#first time being put to sleep too i wasn’t scared for that it

[cheolieji]

unspoken pt 2 - choi seungcheol

wc: 4,534

idol au

14th member fic

angst angst angst and angst, did I mention angst?

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unspoken pt1

A/N: is it bad that I cried while writing this? oopsie lol

A/N2 : sorry this took a bit I dislocated my shoulder a while ago and after that I was too lazy to write hehe

The next morning, he tries again.

You’re in the kitchen, minding your own business, trying to act like you’re not shaking just holding a stupid glass of water. Everyone else is keeping their distance. Probably heard the fight. Probably heard the silence after. But not him. Of course not him.

He stands by the counter, arms crossed, but his face is softer than you’ve seen in days.

“Hey,” he says, like you’re not avoiding him on purpose. “Look, about yesterday…”

You don’t even blink.

“I’m sorry,” he says. “Really. I was an idiot. More than usual.”

You turn away. Start rinsing your glass even though it’s already clean.

“I was pissed off. And I took it out on you. I said stuff I didn’t mean. Stuff I knew would hurt. And I’m sorry. That’s not… that’s not who I want to be. Especially not with you.”

He follows when you move to put the glass away. He keeps going.

“I heard what you said to Jeonghan. I shouldn’t have. But I did. And it messed me up. Not because I don’t feel the same but because I do. I do, and it scared the hell out of me.”

You walk past him toward your room. He follows. Again.

“You think I didn’t notice you pulling away first? You think I didn’t see how you stopped looking at me when you thought I wasn’t watching? It killed me. And instead of being honest, I picked a fight. Like a dumbass.”

You reach your door, hand on the knob. He stops right behind you.

“You’re not selfish,” he says, voice lower now. “You’re not. I am. I’ve always been so focused on keeping everything together, I forgot about you. About us. That’s on me. I get it.”

You say nothing. The silence is so loud it drowns him out.

“I know you’re mad. You should be. You should hate me right now. I hate me right now. But I’m not giving up on you.”

He exhales, frustrated, running a hand through his hair.

“I’m not good at this. I’m not good at talking when it actually matters. But I’m trying. For you.”

Still nothing.

“I’m sorry. For every single word. For being a coward. For making you feel like you don’t belong here. You do. You always have.”

You open the door. About to step inside.

“I like you,” he says quickly. “A lot. More than I know how to handle sometimes. And I don’t want to lose you like this. Not like this.”

Your hand tightens on the handle.

“I’ll say it as many times as it takes,” he says. “I’ll say it until you believe me. Until you let me fix this. Please.”

But you step inside anyway. Quiet. Done.

He doesn’t follow this time.

But his voice comes soft through the door.

“I’m not going anywhere.”

He keeps trying.

That same night, your phone lights up.

cheol [22:42]: are you okay?

You ignore it.

cheol [22:58]: i know you’re not

cheol [23:05]: i’m sorry

cheol [23:10]: please talk to me

You mute the notifications.

The next day, he’s already waiting in the kitchen when you get up. He’s sitting there like he didn’t sleep, like maybe he’s been there all night. His eyes go to you the second you step in. You pretend not to see him.

“Morning,” he says quietly.

You don’t answer.

“Did you sleep at all?” he tries again. “You need to eat.”

You walk past him like he’s air.

When you leave, you hear him sigh. Not annoyed. Just tired. Just sad.

Later that day, another message.

cheol [15:26]: you left your jacket in the practice room

cheol [15:27]: i’ll bring it to your door

cheol [15:28]: i won’t bother you. just thought you’d want it back

You open the door five minutes later. The jacket is folded neatly on the floor. He’s nowhere in sight.

That night, you hear a knock.

“Hey,” his voice comes through, soft. “I’m not here to force you to talk. Just… I was thinking. About how much I miss hearing you laugh. How much I miss you sitting next to me even when we’re not saying anything.”

You close your eyes, leaning back against the door. His words feel like they sink straight through you.

“I hate that I made you feel like this,” he says. “I hate that I’m the reason you’re shutting me out. You didn’t deserve any of it.”

You hear him sit down. Right there, on the other side of the door.

“I’ll sit here as long as it takes,” he mumbles. “I’m stubborn. You know that.”

He stays for a while. Talking quietly. Just him and the wall between you.

When you finally open the door, long after he’s gone, there’s a little post-it stuck to it.

I’ll be here tomorrow too.

The days keep passing like that.

He texts you every morning.

cheol [08:12]: hope today feels a little less heavy

cheol [08:13]: even if you don’t wanna talk to me yet

cheol [08:14]: i’ll wait

You keep ignoring him. But he keeps showing up.

In the practice room, he’s careful. Never raises his voice. Never gets too close. But his eyes find you. Every time. Always that same look. Full of regret. Full of something he can’t say out loud anymore.

When you stay late to practice alone, you hear the door open. You don’t look, but you know it’s him.

“I’m not here to get in your way,” he says. “Just making sure you get home safe.”

You leave without a word. When you check your phone later, there’s a message.

cheol [23:02]: text me when you’re back safe?

cheol [23:20]: or don’t. just. please be careful.

You don’t reply.

But you know he waited for you to come back. You saw his shoes by the door. Still there. Still waiting.

The worst part is he never gets angry. Not anymore. Not when you ignore him. Not when you leave rooms just because he walked in. He takes all of it. Quiet. Patient. Like he thinks this is what he deserves.

And maybe it is.

But it still hurts to see him like that.

It hurts more to admit you want to forgive him. That a part of you misses him so much it physically aches. But you can’t forget what he said. Not yet. Maybe not ever.

You go to bed thinking about the way he said your name. Like it broke him to even say it.

The next morning, another text.

cheol [07:58]: it’s okay if you hate me right now

cheol [07:59]: i’m still not going anywhere

--

It happens after practice.

You’re already exhausted. The weight of pretending is suffocating. And then there he is again. Waiting outside the room like always. Watching you. Following you. Keeping his distance but never really leaving.

You snap.

“What do you want from me?” you spit, whirling around to face him. Your voice is sharp. Loud. It startles him.

He freezes. “I… I just wanted to—”

“To what, Seungcheol? Apologise again? Say sorry for the hundredth time? You already said it. Over and over. What do you want me to do with that?”

He takes a step closer. You take one back.

“I’m trying,” he says quietly.

“Yeah? You’re trying? You should have tried before you said all that shit to me. You should have thought about how it would feel to be treated like I was nothing to you.”

His face twists. He opens his mouth. Closes it again. You don’t let him speak.

“You made me feel like garbage, Seungcheol. Like I wasn’t even part of this team. Like I was a burden. Like I was disposable. And now you’re standing here acting like sorry is going to erase that?”

Your voice cracks. You hate that it does. You hate that he sees it.

“I know I messed up,” he says, desperate. “I know. You don’t have to remind me. I’ve been thinking about it every second since.”

“You should feel bad!” you shout. “Because I can’t stop hearing your voice in my head, repeating every awful thing you said. And it hurts. It hurts so much and you’re the one who put that there.”

Tears spill over. You wipe them away harshly, frustrated with yourself, frustrated with him, with everything.

“I hate you for this,” you choke out. “I hate you for knowing exactly how to break me. And still doing it anyway.”

His face falls. Completely. He looks wrecked.

“I’m sorry,” he says again, voice shaking. “I’m so sorry. I never wanted to hurt you like this. I was angry and I was scared and I handled it the worst way possible.”

“You think that changes anything?” you snap. “You think that fixes it?”

“I know it doesn’t,” he says. “But I’m still going to keep apologising. Because you deserve that. Because I was wrong.”

He steps closer.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” His voice gets softer with every word. “I’m sorry for the fight. I’m sorry for not saying how I felt sooner. I’m sorry for being a coward. I’m sorry for every single time I made you doubt yourself.”

You shake your head, but he keeps going.

“I’m sorry for not protecting you. For not choosing you when it mattered. For saying things I didn’t mean. For not stopping when I should have. For hurting you when all I ever wanted was to be close to you.”

Your chest feels tight. Your hands are clenched so hard they hurt.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

He reaches for you like you’re made of glass.

“I’m so sorry. Please. Please let me fix this. Please let me try.”

Your breath comes out in a sob.

“I don’t know how to forgive you,” you admit, broken.

“That’s okay,” he says right away. “That’s okay. Take your time. Take all the time you need. I’ll be here. I’m not going anywhere.”

He says it again.

“I’m sorry.”

He repeats it until his voice goes hoarse.

And for the first time, you don’t walk away.

[schlattschlut]

Do I have to do everything for you? Schlatt x charlie x reader smut

-

Schlatt catches you staring at Charlie gives you an opening, when you’re too scared to take it, Schlatt does it for you.

aka Schlatt showing Charlie how to treat you right

Cw: smut, threesome f/m/m, degradation, Schlatt is over your bullshit tbh

Wc: 2,882

-

Schlatt and I were monogamous, or so I thought. I never looked at another man once we got together; But then he introduced me to Charlie and as much as I loved my boyfriend, it was hard not to look at Charlie.

I didn’t think it was possible to find another person who could treat me as well as Schlatt does until I met Charlie and he started holding doors for me, making my favorite drink when I don’t feel well, letting me complain to him about my issues that were definitely superficial but he always made me feel valid in my drama. Not to mention that he was just gorgeous, even before he took off his glasses and changed his hair, I would catch myself eyeing him up in discord calls.

This being the first time I’d been near Charlie in person, I didn’t realize how obvious my staring was until Schlatt called it out.

“Enough.” Schlatt’s voice pulls me from my daydreams. He slams his notebook down in front of him, the two of us had been sitting at the kitchen table, working on our own things in silence; Schlatt stands from his spot, rounding the table to stand next to me.

“What?” I ask sheepishly, my cheeks heating up as he towers over me.

“You know what.” Schlatt bites back, shoving his hands in his pockets and leaning down to speak lowly into my ear, “You’ve been staring at Charlie for 20 minutes.”

My eyes widen at his words, shocked he had caught me and equally shocked he didn’t seem that mad.

“I wasn’t- I don’t think-“ I stumble over my words, trying to find the right excuse to get me out of this.

Schlatt remains silent for a moment, his head now next to mine, looking in the direction I was facing. In my line of view was Charlie, standing at the sink washing dishes after we had all eaten, oblivious to anything around him as he focused intently. I couldn’t help it, seeing Charlie wearing an apron he insisted on putting on, caught up in his own world. Schlatt had caught me red handed, watching the man in front of me do a simple task, while half paying attention to the book in front of me.

Schlatt huffs, standing up straight and crossing his arms. “You can fuck him.” He says confidently, causing me to whip my head around to look at him.

“Excuse me?” I ask, standing from my chair to face him.

“You heard me.” He grumbles, “You can fuck him, but you have to be the one to tell him.” Schlatt smirks proudly, knowing just how difficult initiating those conversations was for me.

I scoff, crossing my arms and glaring at him. “That is a wild way to make an accusation.”

Schlatt laughs, genuinely finding it funny I thought he thought I was cheating, “It’s not an accusation, toots… honestly it’s more of an order.” He shrugs.

I feel my brain shut down as he continues to speak, it was rare for him to speak in such a serious tone for so long without breaking character; I was starting to believe him.

“I can fuck him, because you’ll let me?” I clarify, raising an eyebrow in disbelief.

Schlatt shakes his head, his laugh becoming even dryer as time went on. “No, sweetheart. I know you want to fuck him, so I’m letting you.”

Though he explains it, I still don’t understand. He wanted me to fuck Charlie? Was this some sick way of breaking up with me?

The worry in my eyes must’ve been visible to Schlatt as he spoke up again, “Listen, if you can manage to tell Charlie your feelings… You can sleep with him, no strings attached or whatever.”

I breathe deeply, making sure to think over my next words before saying them, in case I say the wrong thing and this all goes south. “Why does my boyfriend want me to fuck one of his best friends so bad?” I tilt my head to look at him.

Schlatt huffs again, clearly annoyed I wasn’t just accepting what he was saying. “You and Charlie have been ogling each other for how long? And I don’t feel threatened by him so…” He shrugs, “Fuck him, if you want.”

-

I dropped the conversation there, knowing we’d be going in circles for hours if it continued.

But the thought never left my mind as a few days pass, I spend the pondering Schlatts offer, wondering how I could possibly ever bring that up to Charlie. I watched Charlie every day as he moved around the rented air bnb, slapping Schlatt on the arm every time he catches me and makes kissy noises.

After at least 36 hours of deep thought, I came to the conclusion that I should at least talk to Charlie, it couldn’t possibly hurt to casually mention it, right?

So one night, after everyone else had gone to bed or home while Schlatt and I snuggled into a corner of the couch and Charlie puttered around in the kitchen, loading the dishwasher and putting things away.

I lean away from Schlatt, looking between him and the open door to the kitchen. I bite my cheek anxiously before I stand from his lap, kissing him quickly and slipping off towards the kitchen where Charlie was standing over the sink, humming to a song in his head as he scrubbed a plate.

“Hey.” I said softly, making Charlie jump and almost drop the plate in his hand. He sets the plate down safely and turns to look at me, his chest rising heavily as he worked to catch his breath.

“Jesus, you always do that.” Charlie states, splashing me with some of the soapy water.

I gasp, dodging as much of the water as I can. “I can’t help that you’re jumpy!” I laugh, finally looking up at him. My cheeks blush as I realize he’s wearing my favorite sweater of his, the black and white one that fit him so well.

He rolls his eyes, leaning against the counter and crossing his arms. “Did you need something?” He asks.

I nod, gulping nervously as he unknowingly put his biceps on display, reminding me how strong he was.

“Yeah, I…” I start to speak, fully ready to admit my feelings to him, having a speech planned and everything. Yet now it seemed like I couldn’t talk at all, no words coming out as I panicked.

Charlie looks at me with concern but before he can ask if i’m okay, I turn around and exit the kitchen, ignoring Schlatt who stands from the couch to try and comfort me as I make my way to our shared room and flop down on the bed, my face burning up with embarrassment.

I had figured someone would follow me, likely Schlatt, to either confront or comfort me. I secretly prayed no one did and they allowed me to sulk in peace.

Thankfully, my wishes are granted as no one even knocks on the door, though I can hear them all bustling around the house as I lay in bed. I keep my face flat against the mattress, replaying the conversation in my head a thousand times. Realizing all the cool things I could’ve said, instead of choking and running away.

At least an hour, maybe two, passes before I hear from anyone. I sit by myself, debating if I should be brave and leave the room or stay inside with my own thoughts.

Though it seems Schlatt decides for me, as I nervously fiddle with the edge of the blanket, I hear a knock at the door and the sound of the knob turning slowly. Schlatt sticks his head in, seeing me sat on the bed, he opens the door fully and invites himself in.

He stands at the foot of the bed, his hands behind his back as he rocked back and forth lightly, “Hi.” He states.

“Hi.” I reply, “What can I do for you?” I ask, tilting my head in question.

Schlatt clears his throat, running his hand through his hair as he stares at the wall behind me. “So,” He starts, which is usually a bad sign, meaning he had formed an idea.

“Oh god.” I mutter. Schlatt sticks his hands out in defense.

“Hear me out, would you? Just give me a chance.” He pauses, waiting to see if I’ll interrupt him again before continuing. “Okay, so… I know that whole conversation with Charlie kind of crashed and burned.”

I wince as he brings it up, the memory still too fresh in my mind.

“However!” He continues, “I might have talked to him about it…” He almost mumbles the last part.

My jaw drops, “Schlatt!” I scold, my cheeks heating up with a new found embarrassment.

“I’m sorry, okay, but you’re really bad at talking to people.” He replies. I cross my arms and huff, knowing he’s right. I allow him to continue, “He’s down if you are.”

He said it so quickly I almost missed it, but I didn’t and my heart fell to my stomach as I processed his words.

“He is?” I ask in slight disbelief, not entirely trusting Schlatt to not be pulling my leg.

He only nods, stepping away from the bed and back towards the door, opening it and ushering someone in; revealing Charlie who had clearly been waiting close by.

My blush gets stronger as everything starts to unfold, realizing that Charlie was in fact interested in this and my boyfriend had been the one to tell him. I wasn’t sure if I should be angry or grateful because I would’ve never talked to him on my own.

I shift to sit on my knees, watching them both closely. Schlatt had his eyes focused on Charlie, who was staring at me.

“Well?” Schlatt asks expectantly, waiting for Charlie to make a move.

Charlie head snaps from me to Schlatt, he blinks repeatedly as he processes what to say and do. “I- Uh-“ Charlie stumbles over his own words, his heart beating against his chest and his pants starting to strain were making it hard to focus.

Schlatts expression drops from expectant to annoyed. He and Charlie had discussed this prior and Charlie swore not to chicken out, that if I was in so was he. But now he stood next to the bed, nervously shifting his weight back and forth. Schlatt waits another moment before groaning. “Do I have to do everything for you two?” He questions, grabbing my ankle and yanking me down the bed towards him.

I squeak as he does, now laying on my back with Schlatt between my legs. He holds both my knees in his hands, pressing them into his sides. He looks up at Charlie again, pointing to the ground next to him. “Stand here.” He commands and Charlie immediately follows the order, standing where Schlatt told him.

My heart races, I swear it’s going to burst out of my chest. They’re both looking down at me, making me feel incredibly small. I shift uncomfortably as they stare me down, Schlatt chuckling.

“Well, since you seem to be struggling, I’ll fuck her first.” Schlatt says to Charlie, unfazed by the way Charlie’s eyes widened and he swallowed nervously. Schlatt then looks at me, slapping my thigh roughly to get my attention on him. “That alright with you, sweetheart?” He asks.

I nod frantically, growing more impatient by the second. Schlatt knew I would be okay with it, but he just had to play it up for Charlie just a bit.

Schlatt grows even more impatient as Charlie and I stay quiet. He slips his fingers under the waistband of my shorts, pulling them down and off my legs. His pants go next, pooling around his ankles as he pulled me even closer to him.

I catch Schlatt looking at Charlie, tracking his movements and ensuring he had his full attention on us. My eyes are locked on Schlatt as my hands grip the sides of his shirt nervously.

He leans forward, shushing me softly and pushing his hips into mine, stretching me out slowly as I whine softly. Once he’s fully seated, he leans back and smiles at Charlie, grabbing the back of his neck and bringing him closer, “See.” Schlatt says, “This is what you’re supposed to do.”

Charlie laughs awkwardly, his palm pressing against the front of his jeans as Schlatt holds him close to us.

I whine at Schlatt, tugging on his shirt. “Don’t be mean.” I mumble, trying to defend Charlie. Schlatt just scoffs, pulling almost all the way out before slamming his hips into mine again, effectively shutting off my brain for a moment.

He turns to Charlie again, “You watching?” He asked lowly. Charlie keeps his eyes trained on us nervously, unsure exactly where to look.

Schlatt grunts and his hips start to move quicker, his length stretching me further each time, his head falling back as he tried to remind Charlie to keep his eyes on us. I reach forward, grabbing the front of Charlie’s shirt and pulling him closer until he was kneeling on the bed next to me.

Schlatts hands are roaming the expanse of my legs, his fingers brushing lightly over the skin; a stark contrast to the way his hips slam against mine. He’s groaning softly, losing control more and more with each thrust.

“Your turn.” He grunts to Charlie, gesturing for him to take his pants off. Charlie stutters for a moment, losing his confidence as both of us watched him. Schlatt glares at him, looping his fingers into Charlie’s belt loop and tugging him even closer. His hands leave my body momentarily as he unzips Charlie’s jeans for him; pushing them down his thighs. “Fuck my girlfriend, bro.” Schlatt says, almost casually as he slips out of me, stepping aside for Charlie to take his place. He grabs Charlie’s shoulder, tugging him to stand in the position he was just in.

Charlie stares down at me nervously; I smile softly at him, leaning on my elbows and running my hands down his chest. “C’mon, Charlie…” I murmur teasingly. “I want you to fuck me.”

I see Charlie’s eyes darken at the words, as if he’s suddenly come to terms with the situation and is finally ready to play. “I’ll fuck you, princess.” Charlie mutters, grabbing himself by the base, nudging his tip against my clit a few times before pushing in slowly. I can’t help but mewl at the feeling of him. He didn’t have the length that Schlatt did, but he matched him in girth and my body couldn’t seem to get enough.

My head lolls to the side as Charlie takes a second to catch his breath, I watch Schlatt as he takes his own length in his hand, pumping it slowly; running his thumb over the tip and using the precum as lubricant. Schlatts free hand runs along my calf, down to my thigh as his eyes focus on where Charlie and I connect. “Move.” Schlatt commands Charlie.

Charlie’s head turns to look at Schlatt, his daze clearing again as his starts to move his hips, whimpers and moans fall past his lips quietly. “So tight…” Charlie whines, “God you feel good…” He groans out.

Schlatt chuckles, sliding his hand over my thigh to press his thumb against my clit. I gasp, squeezing around Charlie; causing his hips to stutter as he falls forward slightly.

I know Schlatt is enjoying this just as much as Charlie, if not more. His thumb moved over my clit quickly, clearly trying to bring me closer to the edge as Charlie’s moans only got more frequent.

“Shit, Charlie.” Schlatt laughs, his hand pumping over his cock faster, “You might actually make her come.”

I nod frantically in agreement, my eyes closing as my climax approached quickly, “Please Charlie,” I whine, opening my eyes just enough to see him panting over me. “Wanna come for you…” I beg.

His hips speed up, his hands pressing my hips into the mattress to keep me from moving as he seems to chase his own pleasure at the same time.

“Come, you slut.” Schlatt orders, taking his hand off himself long enough to slap my inner thigh. The feeling of both men against me starts to make my brain feel fuzzy, my release slowly building until I couldn’t stop myself from coming; my vision turning white and my breathing heavy as it washes over me.

I squeeze around Charlie again, hearing him gasp and his hips stuttering as his own release spills into me, slowly leaking down onto the sheets below. The sight alone is enough for Schlatt, he grunts and I feel his come dripping down the side of my leg as he whispers praises towards us both.

Schlatts free hand steadies him against the mattress before he gives in and falls down next to me, still catching his breath. Charlie follows suit, pulling out of me with a whine before climbing into bed next to me, wrapping his arm around my waist.

“Was that so fucking hard?” Schlatt grunts out, “I’m not doing it for you next time.”

[caffeinewitchcraft]

AITA for telling my boyfriend’s coworkers that he’s lying about his body count?

I (35f) have been dating my boyfriend (32m) for four years. It’s honestly been the best relationship until last Friday when it all went down. I feel like I’m in the right, but now I’m wondering if I overstepped.

For context, my boyfriend has been a professional Slasher for about eight months now. He’s always really admired Cryptids, Monsters, and Nightmares so when his application was finally accepted, he was over the moon even if he was starting in a lower position than he initially applied for.

At his company, being a Slasher requires a lot of travel which we knew when he accepted the position. The end goal is for him to get a promotion to at least regional Nightmare (he wants Cryptid, but that position doesn’t have a lot of turnover) but to get that he needs to be in role for at least 12 months OR meet his goals for three months in a row. Once he promotes, we plan to relocate to his new region and “start talking about our future.”

(Side note: no this isn’t about him not popping the question yet. We are both in agreement that marriage comes after financial stability. I run a small business doing scare consults and, while it’s been growing, I wouldn’t call it stable yet. So neither of us are ready.)

I told him it’s completely normal for it to take a whole year before he’s ready to promote and he really should focus on adjusting to the company before thinking about next steps. I used to work for a competitor (I’ve been retired for five years now) and I know it can be hard to go from only taking the occasional human life to having to take over half a dozen a week. It’s not a light workload, no matter how easy it looks in the movies. One of my best friends Slashes part-time and she still only averages about five lives a week despite having done it for years. Especially these days, it can be really hard to meet quota. Humans are getting smarter, no matter what the Council wants us to think.

Anyway, boyfriend didn’t do as well as he thought he would in his first couple months. Totally understandable, of course, which I told him. I suggested he ask his boss if he could be put on a couple team assignments or even a duo until he got the hang of it. That was our first real fight. He thought I was doubting his ability to kill. He brought up how I told him it would take over a year to promote and how I said that this job wasn’t for everyone (His first assignment ended with a 0% kill rate, but that’s a different story). He said it felt like I didn’t believe in him and he said that if that was the case then maybe we shouldn’t be thinking about marriage so soon.

It got pretty messy after that. I felt like he was forgetting that I’d worked in the same field and, arguably, had a lot more experience (not to brag, but I averaged a 98% kill rate). Also, four years is NOT too soon to talk about marriage. He said I didn’t understand how he needed to focus on his career right now. I told him I thought he was taking Slasher too lightly just because it wasn’t Cryptid. He accused me of not respecting him and then things spiraled from there.

We both said a lot of things we didn’t mean and I’m embarrassed that it turned into a bit of a fang measuring contest. I ended up sleeping under the bed for a few nights until he coaxed me out to apologize.

It was a rough patch, but we talked it out. We agreed that, going forward, I wouldn’t offer advice unless he asked and he would try not to take so much of his frustration home with him. He took a weekend off and we went on a recreational haunting trip in the Montana woods.

Things did get better after that. I tried not to give him consults every time he came back from a work trip. He started bringing me souvenirs like roses and cursed puzzle boxes his work said he could have. It became easier just to hang out with each other and it felt like we were back to normal.

But then, four months ago, he came home super pissed because his boss put him on a PIP. (A performance improvement plan.) Apparently, boyfriend had not been doing better at work, he had just stopped telling me when he had a bad assignment. I saw the paperwork he got (he left it in the dungeon under the house, I didn’t go through his stuff) and he’s been missing quota by a LOT. As a junior Slasher, he was supposed to be executing at least 6 people a week, but he’d been lucky to be maiming half that.

Obviously, I had to talk to him about that. We rent our house and, even though I could have afforded the rent on my own, I didn’t want to jeopardize the investments I was making in my business (I was in the process of hiring an assistant to handle my scheduling). Plus, we agreed from day one that we would be 50/50 on rent and I would take care of the rest of the bills because I earned more. I felt that if his financial situation was in jeopardy, he needed to talk to me about it.

I tried to approach him a bit differently than last time. I asked him if there was anything I could do to help. I told him about my slasher friend and how maybe she could give him advice if he didn’t want any from me. But he said he needed to figure stuff out on his own and that if he couldn’t get himself off the PIP then he would go back to work for his dad’s janitorial company.

I let it go. I was worried but I didn’t want to fight again just after patching the holes from the last blow out. It really bugged me that he thought I didn’t believe in him so I committed to giving him the benefit of the doubt. I said okay and asked him if he needed me to meal prep for both of us that week. He offered me grocery money, but I said it was fine since I’d had to deal with a lot of humans breaking in lately and I still had some leftover in the dungeon.

Fast forward a month. Boyfriend got off the PIP super fast. He worked his way off of it over Spring Break and started taking on a lot of extra assignments. In just four weeks he went to Miami Beach twice, New York City twice, and to three separate summer camps. I missed him and it was hard not having him around but I remembered how he said he needed to focus on his career and I tried not to nag.

It was hard not to nag though. With him gone, all the housework fell on me. We rent a 19th century manor, and its upkeep really does need two people. Doing all the chores plus running my business started to really drain me. Even when he was home, he forgot to banish the ghosts (my chore is to kill all invading humans, and his chore is to banish their ghosts) and he never took out the trash. I think he cleaned blood off the dungeon walls once, but then I had to basically redo it because he missed a lot of spots.

But still, I didn’t say anything because he was doing really well at work and I didn’t want to ruin that for him. Even when Humans started breaking in every week, I didn’t complain even though it interrupted my work day.

Last month though, I did ask him if we could move somewhere that needed less maintenance. There were just way too many Humans breaking in and I didn’t have the time to deal with them anymore. Even if I don’t do all the theatrics I used to as a Cryptid, killing humans through fear still takes a lot of time. He asked me if I didn’t appreciate the free meat, and I said I would appreciate it more if I wasn’t the only butchering it.

He said he didn’t want to move because he was really close to getting promoted to regional Nightmare and he didn’t want to take time off work to move. I was so surprised that I couldn’t hide how surprised I was. He saw and got offended. He asked if I still didn’t believe in him. I said that I did, but it was a huge jump to go from an 8% kill rate to getting promoted.

He got even more mad at me for bringing up his stats and he said that he had nearly 80% kill rate since being put on the PIP. I asked how many humans a week he was slashing and he told me I was being too nosy and that was proof that I didn’t believe in him.

I asked him if we could at least hire a ghoul then to keep the humans out of my office and he said he didn’t want to waste the money that we should be saving for our new house. I asked him what he wanted me to do then? I had to take phone calls for my consulting business and it was really hard to stalk humans all around the house while trying to sound like a professional to my clients.

He asked me to be patient for one more month. He said if he met quota for one more month, his boss said he’d get promoted. So I said fine and let it go.

Fast forward to now, almost a full month later.

Last Friday, I attended the Eldritch Conference. For those not in the scare field, the Eldritch Conference is the most prestigious event in our industry. It’s invitation only and is a chance to network with all the big players in the field. Mothman, the Jersey Devil, Bloody Mary and Bigfoot all spoke this year and both my former company, Grudge Industries, and my boyfriend’s current company, Forgotten Summer Solutions, were invited.

I was surprised to get an invite as a solo contributor to the field. However, my consulting firm has really been doing well and I did land a seasonal contract with the Yeti Co-op which I guess is how they heard about me. Plus, I’ve been a speaker before so I think the organizers knew I would behave myself.

I was planning on telling my boyfriend that I was going, but he was out of town on a co-ed sleepover assignment. He usually doesn’t have his phone on during his assignments, so I didn’t bother calling him. I just figured it’d be nice if we ran into each other at the conference if he made it back in time.

Which brings me to what actually happened (apologies for the long post).

So everything went great for my part of the day. I got to network with a lot of individual businesses and even got to reconnect with Blood Mary who I knew back in my Cryptid days. I told her I was dating a Slasher from Forgotten Summer Solutions and invited her to come with me to check out their booth. I thought it would be fun to grab dinner with her after since I assumed if my boyfriend was there, he’d be going out with coworkers which he often does. Plus, I admit, I was showing off a little. I don’t often get the chance to brag about my Cryptid days.

She agreed and we went over to see if my boyfriend was there.

I introduced myself to the people manning the booth. My boyfriend wasn’t there, but a few Slashers recognized my name and greeted me. They were definitely in awe of Bloody Mary (she came in full uniform) and invited us to look at their displays. They had portfolios for each Slasher on the desk as a sort of preview of what their services looked like.

While Bloody Mary looked through the portfolios, I chatted with my boyfriend’s coworkers. They said they were thrilled to work with him and that, even though he had a really rough start, it was impressive how quickly he started meeting his goals. Something about how they talked about his work kind of didn’t make sense. They were talking like he was killing a dozen humans a week, but he’d told me that he was at 80% on his assignments which typically only offer about ten humans each.

I asked them about it and they said that he’d been Slashing during After Hours which is a new goal supplement program his company launched a few months ago. Basically, anyone can sign up for After Hours and the company counts human kills done in uniform as part of their quota. I asked them if this was available to them while they were on assignment and they said no, it had to be done when they had down time. I asked them how my boyfriend was part of that when he was traveling all the time and they looked confused. One of them said that my boyfriend is still getting one assignment per week and is then supplementing his kill rate with After Hours.

At that point, I was even more confused. It sounded like my boyfriend had been lying to me then, because he told me that he was getting at least two assignments a week. If he was only getting one, then where was he going when he said he was traveling?

Bloody Mary interrupted before I could say anything and asked how their Slashers did their kills. They said that every Slasher at their company is required to use a standard issue weapon (like a machete or axe) for their kills to count. They said their company doesn’t count accidents as part of their quota (like falling or heart attacks).

Bloody Mary pulled me aside and showed me the portfolio she was holding. She said that she was going to give me a chance to explain without them overhearing and showed me the book. She said that a bunch of kills in it looked Cryptid kills. And she said, specifically, it looked like the kills I made when I was a Cryptid. I took the book from her and flipped through it and she was right, they really did look like Cryptid kills. Worse, I recognized a few of the Humans from the past few weeks. They were actually my kills!

Kill stealing is a major taboo in our industry.

I told her I didn’t know anything about this. She looked really relieved at that and said that even though I wasn’t a Cryptid anymore, it would look really bad for me if I was caught helping a Slasher cheat at their job. It could affect my business which she’d only heard good things about.

I’m embarrassed to say that I tried to defend him. He’s new to our industry so I thought it might be a mistake. He might not be trying to cheat, this could be a misunderstanding.

She said she didn’t think so because a mistake would be one or two of my kills mixed in with his, not the entire book.

I counted up how many photos were in the book and, all told, of the 146 kills, at least 100 were mine. I couldn’t really say it was a mistake at that point and I was just staring at his portfolio like an idiot. Bloody Mary asked me what I was going to do because, mistake or not, this looked really bad and could damage my reputation if it got out.

At that moment, another man walked up to booth and asked us if there was a problem. I knew that if I said anything, I would be jeopardizing my boyfriend’s job, but if I didn’t say something, I was jeopardizing my business.

I told my boyfriend’s coworkers that he was lying about his body count. I said I didn’t think that they knew he was doing it, but over half of the kills in his portfolio weren’t his and I suggested they remove it from their display before another Cryptid came by and realized it.

The other man thanked me for bringing this to his attention and asked how we knew. Bloody Mary said that she knew another Cryptid’s kills and I had to tell them that I was that Cryptid, though I was retired now. He asked me if I knew my boyfriend was doing this, and I told him no.

I told him I really didn’t want to get my boyfriend in trouble and suggested that maybe he didn’t know those kills didn’t belong to him because they happened in our house. I was grasping at straws and Blood Mary even looked sad for me. His coworkers looked skeptical but tentatively agreed. The man – who turned out to my boyfriend’s boss – said that they would investigate this thoroughly and apologized personally for his employee’s misconduct.

I was spiraling at that point so I thanked him and said I wasn’t mad, I was just looking out for both of our reputations. He promised to keep it between us and I agreed.

Then I apologized to Bloody Mary because I didn’t feel like eating dinner anymore. She said she understood and wished me well.

I went home and did a quick perimeter search of the property. Sure enough, there were human summoning stones ALL OVER the yard. Which means my boyfriend was intentionally luring humans to our house to get me to kill them so he could take credit. It wasn’t a mistake at all.

My boyfriend came home later that night in his work clothes. As soon he got inside he started yelling. He said he was suspended without pay and that all his hard work was for nothing.

I said I knew he’d been stealing my kills and he almost ruined my reputation. He said they still counted as his kills because he did all the work of luring the humans to our house.

I told him that wasn’t how it worked and he knew it. He said it was the same as setting a trap and I was taking this too seriously. I told him that, as a Slasher, he has to use a weapon to get his kills, not me. He said I was basically the same thing since I had such a high kill rate. I asked him if he was calling me an object.

(My parents exploited me by selling me as a haunted doll through a lot of my childhood and he knows I’m sensitive to being called an object.)

He backpedaled at that point and asked if I didn’t want to buy a house together. He said he was doing it for us and I should’ve understood and not said anything. I told him that when I was a Cryptid I had my pride and would’ve never done this.

He said I needed to tell his boss that he was the one who made all those kills. I said it wasn’t me who recognized them as Cryptid kills and now his boss knew too. He accused me of thinking I’m better than him because I have telekinetic powers and can move through shadows and can possess people, while he’s basically a human himself. I told him of course not and that I worked hard for those powers unlike him.

He got really mad at that and actually charged at me with his machete raised. I don’t think he was going to actually hit me, but I reacted like he was. It was all instinct. I disarmed him and I swear I heard a crack when I grabbed his wrist. I shoved him into the wall.

 He crumpled to the floor and started crying. He said sorry and sort of curled up around his wrist. He said he didn’t ever feel like he was enough for me and he didn’t even know why I was still with him. He called himself a bunch of names and said I would be better off without him.

I sort of awkwardly stood there for a minute. On one hand I wanted to assure him that he was enough and that I loved him, but, on the other, I wasn’t sure I could forgive him. He nearly ruined my reputation, and he embarrassed me in front of Bloody Mary. Plus, I still didn't know where he’d been going all those times he said he was on a business trip and apparently wasn’t.

So I ended up not saying anything. I went to our room and started packing a bag. He followed me. He was still crying as he begged me not to go. He said he would own up to his kill steals at work and he would make it right. He pleaded for me not to leave him and that he would give up slashing.

I told him I needed space to think. He tried to grab me, but I shadow walked out of the house. I heard him screaming from outside and I hurriedly drove away.

Now I’m at my friend’s house and I told her everything. She agreed I did the right thing walking away from him, but when I asked her what I should do she hesitated. She said that my boyfriend wasn’t right to kill steal but, as a fellow Slasher, she understood what he was going through. She said I wouldn’t understand the pressure to meet quota because I was always surpassing mine when I was in the field. She said that a Cryptid could never understand a Slasher.

She also said that nobody would have found out about his kills if I hadn’t brought them to his boss’ attention. She said the only time kills are on display like that is at the Eldritch Conference and by the next one, he’d have had kills of his own. She thinks that if I’d just confronted him at home, he wouldn’t be on suspension.

So now I’m worried that I overreacted when I told my boyfriend’s coworkers that he was lying about his body count.

AITA?

----

Thanks for reading! Several amazing supernatural citizens (aka my Patrons) gave great advice to our poor OP over on my Patreon! Please go check them out here (X)

(I will definitely be posting some of them here in the near future!)

My next supernatural AITA is already up to my patrons!

It's called "AITA for divorcing my vampire husband because he lied about his human job?"

Patrons get to see many of my stories a week ahead! If that interests you please check me out here (X)!

[daxisyzz]

hiiii i hope you are well !!! i was wondering if you could maybe do a fic where the reader gets kidnapped and tortured by hydra on a mission or something, and after a while bucky and the team find her and save her but she’s so psychologically damaged that she’s scared of everyone? preferably lots and lots of protective and comforting bucky as he looks after her and he becomes the only person she’s comfortable with, all the angst and hurt/comfort with a happy ending would be amazing!!! thanks 🩷

Heyyy!! Hope you're doing well too. Writing this fic made me cry so I hope it's what you expected. Sorry for answering late🙃

Only safe with you

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: Hurt/comfort, angst, trauma recovery, Kidnapping, psychological torture (not graphic), PTSD, panic attacks, emotional vulnerability, mentions of touch aversion, recovery

Word count: 1.1k+

You didn’t scream when they took you.

That came later—when your voice cracked raw from begging the shadows for mercy, for death, for something other than the cold numbness pressing in around you like icewater under your skin. But in the beginning, there was only silence. The kind that hollows you out from the inside.

The kind that makes you forget your own name.

You had been captured by Hydra. A mission gone wrong. A corner turned too fast. A shot fired too late. And then it all disappeared beneath the haze of a needle and the slam of a steel door.

No one found you. Not for weeks.

And in that time, you stopped existing.

You curled in on yourself, starved and shaking, while voices you didn't recognize whispered in the dark, breaking you down with every calculated word. They told you you were abandoned. That no one was coming. That you were alone because you were unworthy of being loved.

They never needed to touch you.

They just watched you rot from the inside out.

When the team finally found you, you didn’t recognize them.

You heard the explosion first—the thunder of boots, the sharp bark of Bucky’s voice, the sound of someone screaming your name like it meant something.

But all you saw were more shadows.

You tried to crawl into the wall when they burst into your cell. Your fingernails broke against the concrete, your body instinctively folding into itself, your mouth whispering pleas in a language you didn’t know you remembered.

You didn’t know Bucky was crying until his tears hit your hands.

"Hey," he choked, dropping to his knees, blood on his knuckles and desperation in his eyes. "It’s me. It’s Bucky. I’m here, okay? I’ve got you. You’re safe."

But safety was a concept that no longer made sense to you.

When his hand brushed yours, you screamed.

You screamed like you were dying. Like you were on fire.

And something in Bucky broke that day.

The jet ride back was too bright. Too loud. You were swaddled in a blanket like a child, staring through people who whispered your name with eyes full of quiet sorrow. Natasha sat across from you, tense and silent, her hand clenched in her lap.

Steve paced quietly in the back, eyes heavy with guilt.

Tony said nothing, choosing instead to sit beside you in stillness.

They all felt the ache, but none knew how to hold it.

Because they saw the pieces of you, scattered and bloody, and none of them knew how to put you back together.

Except for Bucky.

He didn’t leave your side. Not once.

You wouldn’t let anyone else near you. The first time Bruce tried to assess your wounds, you had a panic attack so violent your lips turned blue.

But Bucky?

You let him stay.

You didn’t speak. You didn’t sleep. You didn’t see him. But he was there. Sitting on the floor, silent and patient, like he was trying to absorb your pain with every breath.

"You don’t have to talk," he whispered once, voice so low it made your ribs ache. "I’ll just be here. I’m not going anywhere."

And he wasn’t.

Not when you curled into corners, sobbing so hard you threw up.

Not when you tore your own skin in your sleep.

Not when you started to disappear into yourself again.

He stayed.

And the others watched, hurting in their own quiet ways.

Natasha lingered by your door some nights, pacing like she wanted to knock but couldn’t.

Steve brought books you didn’t read.

Tony made sure the lights never flickered in your room again.

They didn’t say much. They didn’t force anything. But they were there.

And Bucky? He just was.

Weeks passed.

You started whispering again. Small things. Words like "water" or "blanket" or "stay."

Always to Bucky.

Only to him.

He was the first person you let touch you again.

A pinky finger. Brushing yours. Barely there.

You sobbed when it happened. Clutched your chest like it hurt. Like it burned to feel something again.

Bucky didn’t cry. Not then.

But that night, Steve found him in the hallway outside your door, fists bruised and bloodied against the wall.

"I can’t lose her again," Bucky whispered, voice shattering. "I can’t."

Recovery wasn’t linear.

Some days you smiled.

Some days you screamed.

Some nights you let Bucky hold your hand.

Some nights you clawed at your own skin, begging him to make it stop.

And he did.

Not with force.

Not with words.

Just with presence.

He’d pull you into his lap, wrap his arms around your shaking body, press his lips to your temple and whisper, "You’re safe. You’re not alone. I’ve got you."

Until you believed him.

Even if only for a moment.

One night, you whispered, "Why did you stay?"

Bucky looked at you, moonlight catching the cracks in him that matched your own.

"Because you matter. Because you didn’t give up. Because you let me find you."

You blinked, tears spilling freely. "I don’t feel like a person anymore."

His voice broke. "Then let me remind you how to be one."

They say healing is like a mosaic, broken pieces coming together to form something beautiful.

You were still cracked. Still healing. Still learning how to exist in a body that had been turned into a prison.

But Bucky loved you through all of it.

With hands that never rushed.

With words that never demanded.

With a heart that only ever whispered, You are safe here.

And for the first time in months, maybe years—You believed him.

One Year Later

The morning sun slipped in through the curtains, painting your room in pale gold. The shadows that once clung to the walls had long since faded, replaced by quiet warmth and slow, steady breaths.

You sat curled on the couch, a book in your lap, half-forgotten, as Bucky entered with two steaming mugs in hand. He paused in the doorway, watching you with that soft look he reserved only for you—a kind of awe, like he still couldn’t believe you were real.

"You’re staring," you said, voice lighter, steadier now.

He grinned. "Can you blame me?"

You set the book aside and took the mug he offered, your fingers brushing his without flinching. That tiny act still felt like magic sometimes.

You leaned into him when he sat beside you, and he wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you in without a word.

There were no more nightmares that week.

You’d started laughing again. Dancing in the kitchen. Humming in the shower.

You still had days where the world felt fragile, like it could crack open beneath your feet—but you no longer fell alone.

You looked up at Bucky, your eyes soft. "Thank you for not giving up on me."

His thumb brushed your cheek. "You saved yourself. I just got to love you through it."

And you did. Slowly, then all at once. Day by day, moment by moment, you let the light back in through him.

[partiallysame]

Okay okay, I LOVEE your writing. & I was wondering if you could work your magic for a little idea I had. Hear me out fem nanny x John price .

Price divorced dad of an infant hires a nanny to watch over sweet little baby thing while he's overseas but comes home early in the middle of the night without notice, ☀️ nanny hears footsteps in the house and in a frantic rush grabs a weapon and hides the baby & herself 😭 idk why I need this but I need to know how John reacts

I hope you like it!!!

John Price x Nanny!reader

The last thing Captain John Price ever expected was a week old infant being dropped in his hands from a one night stand but here he was. The only thing that got him through it was you, his new nanny. You came highly recommended from a few different higher ups who had hired you to help their wives while they were away for long periods of time. Years of experience and too many references to count, John didn’t think twice about hiring you, especially after he saw how good you were with his tiny newborn daughter. He was scared to even touch the poor thing but you walked him through step by step how to care for his daughter. He had turned down a few different missions but this one he wasn’t allowed to say no to. Leaving his 6 week old daughter for two months was not what he wanted to do but he trusted you, and was overjoyed when he was able to return home a week early.

The first sign that panicked you was the neighbor’s dogs barking. You’ve been living in this house for almost 4 months now and have never once heard them bark. Then the security lights in the front of the house lit up and you could hear the doorknob rattling. Fuck. You could feel the pit in your stomach growing, something’s wrong. Reaching under the bed to pull out a hunting knife you had found one day putting away laundry. You really shouldn’t have been surprised when you kept finding hidden weapons in a military captain’s house. Knife in hand you made your way to the room next to you, to grab the baby. The creak of the front door opening sent you into full fight or flight. Hearing the heavy steps at the bottom of the stairs, you quickly grabbed the sleeping infant. “We’re gonna play a lil game of hide and seek ok?” you quietly whispered to her, placing a soft kiss on her forehead as you peaked out her bedroom door to make sure the hallway was clear before making your way to the large closet in the master bedroom. The only closet with a lock on it. You could hear the footsteps get closer, your heartrate picking up as you locked the two of you in the closet. Holding the sweet baby tight to your chest.  

Now John began to panic when he went to check on his daughter and she wasn’t there. His feet started moving faster to find your room empty too, a glass of water spilled on the floor, one you hadn’t even realized you had knocked over in your rush out of the room. But what really sent him into a frenzy was the small stuffed bear on the floor in the hallway. The one his baby girl never let go of and would not sleep without. The Captain pulled his gun out and began clearing rooms looking for you two.

As you heard doors begin slamming and the noises of the intruder growing louder you placed the sleeping infant behind a few boxes, out of sight, before standing in front of her and facing the door. The doorknob twisted a few times, the intruder trying to get in, one hand covered your mouth to keep from screaming while the other had a white knuckle grip on the large knife. Suddenly the door flew open, Price kicking it down. You twisted the knife around in your hand, bringing both hands up ready to fight for yours and the child’s life. All you could see was the silhouette of a large man with a gun. The light on in the room behind him, keeping his face dark and identity hidden. Price began to lower his gun, seeing it was you and you started to lunge towards him, knife swinging. He easily dodged and removed the knife from your hands.

“Hey hey y/n. It's me. It's John. You're safe.” You almost didn’t hear him from how hard you had been breathing. His hand went to turn the light in the closet on so he was visible to you. He stood there watching you for a moment, chest heaving and hands still in fists as the adrenaline started to wear off.

“What the fuck John?” He didn’t answer.

“Where’s my daughter?” 

“She’s safe” You stepped to the side and moved the boxes you had hidden her behind. John watched you amazed as you revealed his still sleeping daughter all wrapped up in a blanket, safe and sound. Reaching down to hold his tiny girl in his big hands he couldn’t help but look at you. Your hands shaking, eyes full of fear starting to return to normal. He knew he trusted you with his daughter but now? He’d never let anyone else near her. You were ready to fight a fucking home invader and honestly if it wasn’t him who opened the door, he was pretty sure you would have been successful with the knife in your hand. He’s looking at you, standing in your pajamas, hair messy from sleeping and he’s thinking he doesn’t ever want to be without you.

[itostea]

the strongest (gojo x wife! reader)

gojo can't help but feel annoyed that he feels concern for the wife he swears he doesn't care for.

warnings: arranged marriage au, gojo refers to you as his wife, enemies to lovers (?), gojo tells you to lift up your top, slight angst, he's really bad at feelings okay, image from loving yamada-kun at lv999 (part of gojo’s wife series)

The lines of intrigue and fear are often blurred. It explains why we admire fire from afar, careful not to get too close in hopes of not getting burned. It explains why we find peace in parts of the ocean and tense up in deeper parts. It also explains why Gojo Satoru seeks your presence yet pushes you away the moment he finds himself feeling something other than indifference or vexation–it’s never hatred though. The strongest can’t envision himself ever hating his wife and it scares him. 

He’s not sure that can be said about you. Gojo wouldn’t be surprised if you grew to hate him after the treatment you put up with. 

Your marriage is what you call a “marriage of convenience” and Gojo made sure you remembered that. He wasn’t always so distant with you. Back then, you might’ve considered him a friend but time did its bidding and you two drifted apart, your time together merely a memory. Now fast forward a few years and you were wedded to him, taking up his surname and sleeping in the same house as him–in separate rooms of course. 

Your steps on the wooden floors were silent as you intended not to make a single noise at such a late hour. You sighed, feeling the weight of your heavy shoulders drag you down. 

Gojo might be considered cruel to you but the elders were on a different level. They knew this mission would be too much for you yet they sent you on it as punishment for speaking your mind the last time everyone gathered. 

At that time, your husband had an unfamiliar gleam in your eyes as you voiced your thoughts on the matter of Itadori. He’s a nice kid, you thought when you first saw the pink-haired boy. 

Taking away his youth wouldn’t be fair. After all, he didn’t choose to have the Ryomen Sukuna use him as a vessel. Yet, sentiment doesn’t do well with the higher ups and they made sure you knew your place with the mission they sent you on. 

You inhaled sharply, wincing as you felt the bruise on your rib with your palm. There was blood soaking your tights, little cuts littering your legs. You’re so tired you can’t find it in yourself to even eat. Then again, you needed to be in your best condition tomorrow since another mission was sent out of you and specifically you. Those in power always make sure it’s clear that they are in power. Your voice of opinion meant nothing to their beliefs in tradition or what you liked to call, “backward thinking.” That’s one thing you and your husband could agree on. 

“Ow,” you wince for the nth time as you open the fridge, scanning the items. Mochi. Ice-cream. Leftover cake. Perhaps it would’ve been wiser to go grocery shopping a day prior so you could have a proper meal. This was the kind of stuff Gojo could live on but you couldn’t. Closing the fridge, you opt for instant ramen instead. Not the best choice in regards to healthiness but cracking an egg in there meant more protein and it also minimized the spice levels. 

You’re halfway in between preparing the noodles when you feel a presence right beside you and soft breathing besides your ears. “You’re home,” your ‘husband’ mumbles, his eyes half-lidded from just having woken up. 

“God! Satoru!” You gasp, flinching away from and only realizing how close he was. For someone who claimed he wasn’t interested in you, he didn’t know what personal space was. “How did you know I was home?”

“Your cursed energy leaked in,” he shrugs his shoulders, peering down at you without the constraints of his blindfold or shades. You gulp as his eyes flit up and down your appearance, causing your insides to tense up in a sudden wave of self-consciousness. Being scrutinized by the six-eyes himself wasn’t much fun and you’re suddenly aware of the fact that your hair is disheveled and your face is sweaty from just having come home from a grueling mission. 

You don’t even notice the glint of rage that crosses his hues before he masks it. “Who did this to you?”

“Huh?” You blink, coming to your senses that your body was bloodied up and battered from having fought a curse. “Oh it was just a mission. It’s normal to be hurt on missions.” 

Gojo’s been living with you for nearly half a year now and he knows you’re more than competent when it comes to shaman duties (not that he’d ever tell you). He knows you return home by 7 p.m.., and never at hours well past midnight. He knows that you usually only get injuries on your back because you get careless at times. But now, he sees cuts everywhere and he’s not sure if you’re running on adrenaline or if you’re too tired to notice. 

His eyes glance at the way you press a palm on your rib, subconsciously squeezing the area as if hiding it from him. “Let me see.”

Your surprise is immediate and he would’ve felt a strange fluttering in his stomach if not for this concern he was experiencing for you. You smile. “See what?”

“Your injury. Let me see it,” he says again, pressing on the hand you hold close to your ribs, narrowing his eyes as you hiss in pain. “Don’t be stubborn (Name).” 

His voice is different from the cheery one he often uses and you’re left leaning further into the kitchen counter, acutely aware of the fact that his taller frame wasn’t allowing you to escape. His eyes widen the slightest once he gets a glimpse of your flustered expression as you peer up at him and he only realizes what he was asking from you. Part of him tells him to ignore this and pretend his concern for you was brief. Yet, part of him screams at him that he was your husband, so he should feel the right to be worried–even if he was months late. 

He sighs, tilting his head. “I’m just going to look. I promise I won’t do anything else,” his voice is oddly tender as he speaks to you, a contrast to the usual nonchalance you’re used to. 

You gulp and let out a shaky sigh, giving in when your fingers reach to pull your top up for him to see the bare skin that you can’t even say is spotless or void of marks. Multiple wounds litter your skin–some faded, some new. You’re scared his gaze would show some signs of judgment or disgust but you’re left bemused when you see how his eyebrows furrow and his lips purse. For a second, you allow yourself to be deluded by the fact that he might be worried but you quickly abandon that thought, averting your eyes from him.

You can see how he pieces everything together. From the way you rebelled against the elders and how they saw it as a means to punish you. He does it so quickly that you can only blink when his blank expression morphs into something different. You almost feel relieved from the fact that his expression of pure anger wasn’t directed at you and rather those who sent you on the mission.

It’s almost natural how he slides the top further up, mapping the extent of the bruise with his eyes. His hands are warm and calloused. They’re also gentle, tracing the bruise carefully to not hurt you. “I’ll kill those old bastards,” he chuckles with a sneer. “They have some nerve letting my wife take this mission without me.”

You frown as you see his anger first-hand. “Satoru–”

“Why didn’t you go to Shoko?” He interrupts, gently holding on your waist to prop you on the counter while he stands in between your legs. He watches you intently, in search of answers.

You feel somewhat embarrassed as his hand still lifts your top up to see the bare skin but don’t comment on it. “I didn’t want to bother her so late at night…”

For the first time since today, you see him flash a genuine smile, as if exasperated by your reasoning. “But you’re fine with bothering me?” 

“That’s different!” You say, a pout slowly forming on your lips and he can’t help but feel drawn to you even if he doesn’t want to. 

He laughs as you pull your top down with a huff, finding it cute that you were so bashful. “Because I’m your husband?” 

You go silent and for a second, Gojo thinks he’s messed up for mentioning that. Despite being your husband, he’s not the greatest at doing his job. He’s not callous or spiteful towards you, instead taking on more of a cold and aloof attitude towards you. Even so, he thinks that hurts just as much as a few insults. 

He’s about to pull back but your voice draws him back to you. “Yeah. It’s because you’re my husband.”

Gojo can’t stop himself from glancing at your lips at that single statement. He was today years old when he realized he was a man of simple tastes. All you had to do was tell him that he was your husband and he’d want to kiss you until your lips turned red. He considers himself lucky that you didn’t see that slip-up of his–though he wouldn’t have minded if you did.

He breathes out a sigh, propping his chin atop your head while his fingers draw circles around your hips. “I won’t let them hurt you.”

It’s a vow he swears to keep. 

“I know,” you whisper quietly enough for him to hear. “You’re the strongest after all.”

He thinks it’s funny that even as the strongest, he feels weak when he feels your fingers play with his sleeves. No words are said after that and a comfortable silence drifts between you two. It’s like the barrier between the two of you is cracking once you feel his lips press gently against your forehead and you think it's his way of sealing the promise. 

Gojo Satoru thinks–or rather he knows that he wouldn’t mind living the rest of his life with you. And he knows that he should fix his behavior around you and stop running away. That way, instead of a kiss to the forehead, he can finally give you one on your lips. 

[moonstruckme]

Inspired by this adorable fic by @inkdrinkerworld <3

cw: hospital, mention of surgery, reader has a fear of anesthesia/being unconscious

emt!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 940 words

You wish that stupid heart monitor would stop exposing you to everyone in the hospital wing. 

“You’re fine.” James rubs his palm over your heart consolingly. “Deep breaths.” 

You inhale, and he does it with you, you feel his chest expand against your back. James got into bed with you soon after you got here, when you wouldn’t stop trying to get up and pace the room. After your IV was put in, Sirius threatened to sit on you if you tried to get out of bed again. James is a nicer compromise. 

“This is so stupid.” Your exhale comes out in a disbelieving huff. “I don’t even have to do this.” 

“Dove, you’re already here,” Remus reasons. “You’ve come this far, let’s just see it through. You’ll be alright.” 

Truly, you’re not sure how you wound up here. When your doctor recommended you for surgery, you said you’d think about it, but you were lying. You knew it, your boyfriends knew it, your doctor probably knew it too. Going under was something you had no intention of ever, ever doing. You didn’t know if the problems you were having would persist without the recommended procedure. You almost didn’t care. The one thing you knew for absolutely sure was that you did not want it to happen. 

And yet, it began to. All it took was one evening of lovingly made hot cocoa and sweet-talking from James to get you to set up the appointment. From there, the date marched continually closer, and all your boyfriends had to do was keep you from backing out. To their credit, they’ve had extraordinary follow through. Suddenly you find yourself in a hospital bed waiting for a surgery you could swear wasn’t going to happen. 

“You don’t even have to stay the night,” Sirius says. He’s sitting cross-legged in one of the chairs against the wall, undeterred by the plastic arm digging into his thigh. “We’ll have you home by dinnertime. Focus on that, doll.” 

“I want to be home now,” you mumble. You know you’re acting childish, but you’d rather gripe than cry, and the way you’re feeling those are your only two options. “Are we sure I can’t be awake?” 

“You don’t want to be awake.” James kisses behind your ear. “It’s quite bloody. You’d think it was gross.” 

“Don’t scare her,” Remus cautions quietly. 

You talk over him. “I’d rather be grossed out and know what was happening.” 

Sirius leans forward to grasp your hand, shushing you. “You already know what’s going to happen, baby. We’ve been over the whole thing. Do you want to hear it again?” 

“No.” In truth, hearing about the procedure had grossed you out. But that’s not your main issue. Tears prick your eyes. 

“Hey,” Sirius says softly. His thumb runs over your knuckles. “You’re okay. You’re going to be just fine. Home by dinner, remember?” 

“I just… “ You pull in a wavering breath. “I really don’t like the idea of being unconscious while people poke and prod at me, and I can’t wake up. It freaks me out.”

“No one is going to poke or prod at you.” Remus is leaning his forearms on his knees, eyes honey soft. “It’s a routine procedure. They do it all the time, it’s their job.” 

“I’d just feel better if I could be awake.” 

“It’d be so much scarier if you were awake. This way, you only go to sleep, and the next thing you know it’s done.” 

“That’s the worst part, though. It’s not like I can wake up even if I want to. I’ll be completely helpless.” 

“Sweetheart, no one is going to hurt you.” 

“I know that.” 

“Are you sure?” he asks gently. 

You shut your eyes, tipping your face down as tears start to drip from your nose. 

“Baby,” Sirius coos. His fingers feel cool against your cheek, cupping so he can kiss between your brows. James hugs you tighter. “Oh, shh, shh. I’m sorry you’re so scared, sweet girl. It’s really not so bad as you’re thinking.” 

“Can you come with me?” you whisper. It’s not the first time you’ve asked, but you’re hoping this display of obvious patheticness will sway things in your favor. 

“You know we would if we could, doll. They’re really strict about who’s allowed in the room.” 

You nod, taking in a ragged breath. 

“We’ll be with you until you go in,” James offers, “and as soon as you wake up. You’ll get to meet your anesthesiologist before, too. Her name’s Kara, she’s a sweetheart.” 

That James knows the person trusted with putting you out does comfort you some. He pats your chest with his hand over your heart, gentle and rhythmic. Slowly, it lulls yours into complaisance. Your heart monitor stops its ratcheting. 

“Breathe.” James exhales slowly. “We won’t let anything happen to you. You’re in good hands, angel, I promise.” 

“I’m sorry,” you say, opening your sore eyes. “I know I’m being crazy.” 

Sirius is squatting by your bed now. He tuts, quick to right you. “You don’t have to be sorry. You’re scared, it’s fine. I wish you weren’t because it’d be easier for you, but it’s not your fault.” 

“You’ll feel better once you’re in there,” Remus promises. “Really, lovely, it’s so much less daunting than you’re imagining it to be. It’s going to go by so easily. And then we’ll be with you, yeah?” 

“Yeah,” you sniffle. 

“What do you think?” James presses his cheek to your ear, pleasantly warm. “You think you can go an hour without us? You’ll be okay?” 

You make a low, reluctant sound. “Maybe.” 

“There’s our girl.”

[loserlvrss]

𝐍𝐎 𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐁𝐔𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔 ⟡ Mark Lee

( 六月 ). ─────you got my heartbeat to play to your time.

one thing about your boyfriend is that he would always take care of you 🫐📨 엔시티이민형 &fem!rea. ｡ ｡warn. ment. of being drunk, kiss 1THOU one shot, fluff, 𝑒𝓈𝓉 𝓇𝑒𝓁𝒶.

노트 my bf btw click4more

It’s a good thing the elevator in your apartment hadn’t gone out yet, otherwise the man on your arm would’ve been upset—though he’d never let you know that.

He just loved you too much for that. And, you kept telling him about how much of a good night it was for you. Seeing old friends and getting drinks. He’d never dream of ruining that.

“Baby,” He stated quietly, pulling your arm around his waist higher, as it kept slipping. “Hold on, just a little longer…why’d you have to live on the 10th floor? Thank God the elevator isn’t out. Is the view really worth it though?” He watched the numbers climb, illuminated electronically above the door.

Your eyebrows furrowed, and though you were hunched against him, you willed your head up.

Deadpanning, you replied, “duh.” To which he just laughed at, “You just don’t get it, Mark! Have you seen it? It’s beautiful! Not more than you but, you know.”

“Many times—actually, I helped you move in, baby.”

You giggled, head falling into his side, “Y-yeah, you did…do you remember haechan falling up the stairs? He wasn’t even carrying anything heavy! Oh my god, it was so funny, I swear I peed my pants!”

Mark thought that, for a drunk girl, you were very good at not sounding slurred with your words. However, standing or walking in a straight line were two very different tasks for you to accomplish in this state. But, he thought it was cute that you thought of him to pick you up and make sure you got home safely. He loved that you loved him so much; shared so many memories with him and were still willing to make them.

And truthfully, he loved you more.

The elevator dinged, the voice telling you that the doors were now opening. Mark braced his arm around you tighter, hiking you up to be, at least a little, straighter.

You trudged along, holding back his attempts to keep a steady pace. You knew it was difficult to move on your own accord in your current state but, honestly you could’ve just fallen asleep on the floor if you fell.

“Work—with—me—here, y/n. Please,” He gritted, practically dragging your giggling figure, “Do you even want to sleep in your own bed?”

Your eyes narrowed soberly, “Are you staying?”

“Will that make you walk faster?”

As if possessed, the thought alone was enough to make you straighten your back and begin willing your legs to move—clumsily, of course, but you knew your boyfriend was still a crutch to make sure you didn’t hit the floor.

He laughed in disbelief, then relief once you two finally had made it to your numbered door. Mark put in the passcode and it chimed with satisfaction.

“You scare me sometimes, baby.”

You hopped in place, the door swinging open with the length of his arm. You slumped against the wall, unhooking the strap of your heels and kicking them off.

“Let’s go to bed!” And when you were about take off down the hall, a hand grabbed yours and stopped you—your feet comically still stomping in place. Your eyebrows furrowed, and you looked over your shoulder in confusion.

“First,” he started, leading you down the hall; for a moment you thought he just didn’t want you to run but, he turned off into your bathroom. Mark hit the switch and illuminated the room, your eyes shutting instinctively. “Your makeup.”

As if it was a daunting statement, you whined, trying to get out of his grip. “No.”

“You’ll kill me in the morning, babe,” He grabbed your waist, hoisting you onto the counter and trapping you with his body, “It won’t take long.”

Your pinky swung from the porcelain and into his view, “Promise.” You weren’t asking, and that made him laugh.

His pinky connected with yours, “Promise.” He replied adamantly, mimicking your movement and kissing the end of his balled fist.

He got to work, grabbing the remover and a couple cotton rounds. He gently swiped your skin, and you swear your head kept drifting to the side with tiredness. You couldn’t help that your boyfriend was the sole reason you could get a good-nights sleep.

Instead of trying to keep you up, he grabbed it, huffing out another laugh at your antics but, letting you fully fall asleep in his hand.

Mark admired you as he tried his best to get the mascara off, smudging it and making you look a little foolish. He thought you were cute; the way your lips were parted, small snores leaving them. The slight crease of your brows as he put your moisturizer and serums on. He swears he could feel his heart swell, knowing you were just that comfortable around him—so adamant to have him by your side—to have him love you.

And, he did.

He loved you so fucking much. His future was you. If he was your world, you were his sun. You were his lifeline. You were the one person he knew he could rely on without contest. If he was a producer, you were his muse. Everything revolved around you. Even if his thoughts weren’t originally for you, they’d eventually make their way back to you. He was excited to talk to you about anything and everything. He was blindsided by a love as strong as this mutual one.

He’d die for you, and that’s why he lives.

Honestly, he was so embarrassingly emotional right now for you, he could practically feel the tears welling up.

Mark swallowed the lump in his throat, grabbing the other side of your head and watching as you blinked yourself conscious.

You smiled sleepily, “When’d you get here, baby?”

He could feel your arms climb to be around his neck, pulling him and simultaneously pushing yourself to get body-to-body. You always craved the warmth (even subconscious) like you were cold-blooded.

“I’m always here.” He kissed the side of your mouth, whispering against your lips, “Now, let’s go to bed?”

© loserlvrss 2024 / 25. 𝗿𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁𝘀 𝗿𝗲𝘀𝗲𝗿𝘃𝗲𝗱. reblogs & feedback appreciated networks : @kstrucknet @neocity-net

[regressionschool]

Trigger [an ABDL Hypnosis Story]

The café was comfortably lively, a gentle hum of voices and the occasional clink of silverware against ceramic filling the space. Sunlight streamed through wide windows, glinting off the water glasses, and the air smelled of fresh coffee and warm pastries.

Molly sat across from Dave, stirring cream into her coffee with small, absentminded motions. She had barely touched her croissant, only nibbling at the edges while her thoughts drifted. Dave, on the other hand, was cutting into a stack of pancakes with practiced ease, unfazed by the conversation unfolding between them.

“I just can’t wrap my head around it,” Molly said, shaking her head slightly. “Like—Emma just… lets it happen?”

Dave chewed, swallowed, and lifted his coffee cup. “It’s not really ‘letting,’ though, is it? It’s what she wants.”

Molly made a noise, somewhere between a sigh and a scoff. “Does she? Or is it just what he wants?”

Dave arched a brow but didn’t respond immediately. He took another bite, letting the syrup soak into the pancakes before cutting another neat square. “She seems happy. I mean, she always said she wanted something different, right?”

Molly’s fingers tightened around her cup. “Different isn’t the same as being put back into—into toddlerhood. That’s not just a ‘different lifestyle,’ Dave. It’s… regressive.”

He shrugged. “And?”

“And—” Molly exhaled sharply, setting her spoon down a little too hard. “And I just don’t get how she could want that. Like, really want it. No responsibility? No autonomy? Just being put in—” she stopped, shaking her head. “It freaks me out.”

Dave took a sip of coffee, watching her over the rim of his mug. He didn’t argue, didn’t tell her she was overreacting. That wasn’t his way. Instead, he let the silence sit between them for a beat before saying, “I think it freaks you out because you can’t imagine wanting it. But that doesn’t mean it’s wrong.”

Molly frowned. “I didn’t say it was wrong. I said it was scary.”

Dave tilted his head slightly. “Same thing, in a way.”

Molly opened her mouth, then shut it again, glaring at her croissant like it had personally offended her. She didn’t like that—when Dave did that thing where he made a point without actually making one. It left her feeling unsteady, like she had to defend herself when she wasn’t even sure what she was defending.

She pushed her plate away slightly, leaning back in her chair. “I just keep thinking about it. Like, if that can happen to Emma, could it happen to anyone? What’s the… trigger?”

Dave chuckled, shaking his head. “Molly, you say that like it’s a virus or something.”

“Well, isn’t it?” she shot back. “One day, she was just our friend Emma, and now she’s…” She trailed off, searching for the right words. “She’s in nappies, Dave. Full-time. And not just that, but he makes the choices now. What she eats, what she wears, when she sleeps.”

Dave tapped his fork against his plate thoughtfully. “She let him.”

“That’s what scares me,” Molly admitted. Her voice was quieter now, but no less intense. “That she let him. And she’s fine with it. More than fine. She’s… content.”

“Would it be different if she wasn’t?”

Molly blinked. “What?”

“If she was miserable,” Dave said. “If she hated it. Would you feel better?”

She scowled. “That’s not the point.”

“I think it might be,” he said, and for the first time, there was something pointed in his tone. “If she hated it, you could see it as something being done to her. But she doesn’t. So instead, you have to deal with the fact that she chose it. And that makes you uncomfortable.”

Molly crossed her arms, looking away. “It should make you uncomfortable too.”

Dave sighed and set his fork down. “I don’t know, Mol. Maybe I just don’t care as much as you do. It’s weird, yeah. But people do weird things all the time. If it makes her happy, why should it matter?”

Molly shook her head, staring out the window. Outside, people walked by with shopping bags, strollers, coffee cups in hand. Just… normal people. People who weren’t Emma.

She could almost see her in her mind—Emma, giggling, dressed in something soft and pastel, clutching a stuffed animal. Not a woman anymore. Not in the way she used to be.

Dave studied Molly for a long moment, his fingers idly tracing the rim of his coffee cup. The tension in her shoulders, the hard set of her jaw—it was all so familiar. The same reaction he’d seen before, whenever Emma came up in conversation.

He sighed. “You know, it’s funny.”

Molly frowned. “What is?”

He leaned forward slightly, voice dropping just a fraction. “You keep talking like you don’t understand. But I think, deep down, you do.”

She scoffed, opening her mouth to retort, but Dave cut her off with a single phrase, low and deliberate:

“Little minds don’t worry.”

Molly’s breath caught. For a second, nothing happened—just a flicker in her expression, a slight widening of her eyes. Then, like a ripple spreading across the surface of a pond, something shifted.

Her lips parted, her brow furrowing in confusion. Her fingers, which had been tense around her coffee cup, suddenly slackened, as if the very concept of holding it had become too complex. She blinked rapidly, her gaze unfocused.

“Wh—” Her voice came out small, uncertain. She shook her head, strands of hair falling into her face. “Whazza…?”

Dave sat back, watching as it unfolded.

Molly’s posture sagged, her body language morphing from sharp and guarded to something looser, more instinctual. The weight of her own thoughts—thoughts that had moments ago felt so heavy, so complicated—seemed to vanish.

Her expression flickered through confusion, then something closer to frustration. “S’fuzzy,” she mumbled, bringing her hands up to rub at her temples. “Don’—I don’ get… um…”

Her tongue tripped over her own words. Concepts unraveled like loose threads, slipping through her grasp. Even the sentence she’d just started—what was it supposed to be? What was she even trying to say?

Her eyes darted to Dave, wide and almost pleading.

“Davey,” she whimpered.

He hummed. “Yeah, Mols?”

“F’eels weird,” she murmured, shifting in her seat. “Dunno—s’diff’ent. Ev’rything all… ‘spicy’.”

Dave tilted his head, amused. “Spicy?”

Molly pouted, frustrated by the word she couldn’t quite find. “Mmmm, not spicy, but—y’know! All wiggly ‘n’ tingly ‘n’ funny.”

As if on cue, she let out a sharp gasp, her hands darting down to her lap. A slow warmth spread beneath her, soaking into the fabric of her jeans, pooling against the seat.

Molly let out a breathy little whimper as the last remnants of adult thought crumbled. “Uh-oh…”

A dark patch spread beneath her, creeping outward, the undeniable hiss of her accident filling the air.

Dave chuckled, reaching over to ruffle her hair. “That’s okay, kiddo,” he said lightly. “Little girls don’t worry ‘bout things like that, remember?”

Molly blinked up at him, her bottom lip wobbling, the lingering ghost of something wrong flickering across her features before fading into soft, placid contentment.

She wasn’t an adult anymore.

She wasn’t supposed to worry.

She didn’t worry.

Dave sighed, shaking his head with a good-natured chuckle as he glanced toward the café staff. A few nearby patrons had already started whispering, their eyes darting toward the growing puddle beneath Molly’s chair. He caught the eye of a barista, offering an apologetic smile.

"Sorry about this," he said smoothly, his tone warm but firm, the way a responsible caretaker would explain a toddler's accident. "She’s still getting the hang of things."

The barista, a young woman with tired eyes and a sympathetic expression, only nodded. "Don’t worry about it," she murmured, though her gaze flicked toward Molly, who was now squirming in her seat, fascinated by the way the damp fabric clung to her legs.

Dave turned his attention back to her, brushing a few stray strands of hair from her face. "Alright, Mols," he said gently, slipping into the comforting role she now expected of him. "Let’s get you cleaned up, yeah?"

Molly only giggled, tilting her head up at him with big, unfocused eyes. "Mmmkay, Daddy," she lilted, the title slipping past her lips effortlessly, as if it had always been that way.

Dave’s lips curled into a knowing smirk, but he didn't linger on it. Instead, he rose, moving around the table and helping Molly up. Her legs wobbled slightly, unsteady now that her adult coordination had slipped away.

As she stood, the full extent of her accident became clear. Her jeans were soaked, clinging to her thighs, the damp material darkened almost entirely down to her ankles. She looked down, blinking slowly at the mess, but there was no shame in her expression—only mild curiosity.

She poked a tiny finger against the wet denim. "Squishy," she declared with a giggle.

Dave grinned, ruffling her hair. "Yeah, kiddo. And that’s why we wear proper protection, huh?"

Molly giggled again, her gaze unfocused and dreamy. "Mmhmm!"

Dave led her toward the back of the café, past the staff-only sign. No one stopped them. Maybe it was the way he carried himself, so confident, so sure of his authority over her. Maybe it was the way Molly so clearly wasn’t in charge of herself anymore, her small hand tucked securely into his, her posture loose and trusting.

Inside the staff restroom, a sight that would have mortified Molly just minutes ago now greeted her without a flicker of concern—

An adult-sized changing table.

Dave patted the cushioned surface. "Up you go, kiddo."

Molly obediently reached her arms up, letting him lift her onto the table without a second thought. She kicked her legs idly, her soaked jeans sticking to her skin, a little pout forming on her lips.

"Wan’ dry," she mumbled.

Dave chuckled. "That’s the plan, sweetheart."

With practiced ease, he peeled away her jeans, the damp fabric clinging for a moment before slipping free. He balled them up and set them aside, then made quick work of her sodden panties. Molly didn’t react, other than giggling as the cool air hit her bare skin.

She squirmed as he wiped her down with a warm cloth, but it wasn’t from discomfort—it was the way a toddler would squirm from tickles rather than modesty.

Then, he pulled out the final piece.

A puffy, pastel-colored Pampers—one big enough for her, decorated in soft patterns that made it impossible to mistake for anything grown-up.

Molly’s eyes widened, but not with the resistance she might have once had. No, this time, it was delight.

"Ooooooh!" she cooed, her fingers twitching eagerly.

Dave smirked. "Like it, baby?"

Molly nodded enthusiastically, reaching out to poke at the plastic shell as he unfolded it. "Is crinkly!" she giggled.

He lifted her legs effortlessly, sliding the padding beneath her before securing the tapes snugly at her waist. The thick bulk forced her legs apart slightly, and when he patted the front, she let out a soft, happy hum, wiggling against the plush comfort.

"There we go," Dave murmured, smoothing her shirt down over the top of her new, much more appropriate underwear. "All fresh."

Molly beamed up at him, wiggling her toes as she enthusiastically poked at the front of her new padding, fascinated by the way it crinkled under her touch.

"Dis is way better!" she declared, giggling as she gave the front a few experimental pats.

Dave laughed. "I thought you’d see it that way, princess."

Then, he picked up her jeans, inspecting the soaked fabric with a smirk. "Well, kiddo, looks like you’ll have to go without these for a bit."

Molly didn’t even blink.

If anything, she giggled, swinging her bare legs with delight.

The Molly from before—the one who had argued, who had frowned and questioned—was nowhere to be found.

She was just Mols now. A little girl in nothing but a crinkly diaper and her soft shirt, giggling as she prodded at the thick bulk between her legs.

[caxasy]

but then i’d scare you away

xavier x male reader

cw: established relationship, borderline yandere xavier, turned way more obsessive and possessive than i originally intended, manipulative and controlling xavier, reader lowkey is into it, but kind of ambiguous, possessive xavier, marking (hickies once again)

in xavier’s humble opinion there was nothing worse in life than being rudely woken up, especially when he’s woken up earlier than he actually needed to be up. it just meant that everything after that point would be terrible. until you’d coo and comfort him at his nap time being interuppted, then he feels like he’ll be okay.

unfortunately, this was not one of those times. in fact, it was you that was waking him up from his slumber.

“baby,” he hears your voice before he sees you, bleary eyes reluctantly opening. then he sees your kind smile leaning down in front of him, “i’m going to head out now, okay? i’ll call you when i’m done,”

“huh? wait, where are you going?” he asks, hand gripping your wrist. despite him just waking up, his hold is tight as he very much did not want to see you leave. so what he was sleeping earlier? his body can tell when you’re not near, subconsciously waiting for you to come back each time you leave.

“remember, i told you, got invited out for a reunion dinner with my classmates,” he looks over your build, pouting when he sees you dressed in a way he can only describe as jaw droppingly sexy. it wasn’t even anything fancy, but it was enough to make xavier wish you’d just stay home with him dressed like that. he didn’t realize he found sleeves rolled up to expose your forearms to be something so attractive, but here he was — practically drooling at the sight. he groans, rubbing his face, hand still gripping yours.

“can’t you reschedule?”

you laugh at his comment, thinking it a poor joke and lean down to kiss him, “i’ll let you know when it’s over? and if you’re feeling up for it, i can just come back,”

“can’t you reschedule?” he repeats, hoping for the answer he wants to hear instead of the realistic one. his pout is prominent now and he’s propping himself up on his elbows to look up at you. “how long will you be gone for?”

“just a couple of hours. sleep and when you wake up i’ll probably be back,” you say, trying to get him to loosen his grip on you.

“i can’t sleep well if you’re not near,” he says, voice softer as he attempts puppy dog eyes. too bad to you he just looked extra cute rather than persuasive.

“i’ll be back before you know it,” you promise, kissing him once more before walking away.

he can only watch your back from the couch, thinking of how handsome you looked and how he wasn’t going to be one admiring your beauty the whole night. instead, it’ll be those classmates. xavier rolls his eyes, grumpily putting his head back down onto the cushions as he tries to think about anything else.

you hadn’t seen these people in years, so why are they suddenly coming back into your life? was there some sort of celebration he was unaware of? he just didn’t like the idea of people he didn’t know coming back into your life. it’s selfish and childish, but he doesn’t like letting people who knew you before you knew him get close to you again. it’s a fear, you’ll miss that time in your life that wasn’t with him and leave him.

you’ve reassured him multiple times that that would never happen, including when you told him about this plan, but he just can’t help but be self-conscious. he just wishes you only needed him in your social life.

xavier tried going back to sleep, but his body and mind wouldn’t let him. he was too busy thinking about you; what you were talking about with your classmates, what you ordered for dinner, wondered if you undid the first couple buttons of your dress shirt like you usually did when the two of you went out…his frown only deepened at the thought of that last one.

your neck and collarbone on display for them to see, the top of your chest exposed. thinking about it now, he should’ve marked you before he watched you leave. these people got to be in your presence while he was wallowing at home. did you really not feel bad for leaving your boyfriend for these people? he figures he should throw a bit of a tantrum when you arrive back. give you the silent treatment. that’ll make it so you never leave again. he almost smiles in triumph at the idea of you apologizing profusely to him.

but the moment you actually return home to him, he’s draped over you and breathing in your scent before he can even remember his original plan.

“you took so long,” he breathes into your neck, frowning when he does see that top couple buttons of your are shirt undone. his hand reaches up and scrunches the fabric together, attempting to glare at you, “why?”

“bun, i texted you updates throughout the night,” you chide, resting your hand on top of his to ease his grip. your words do little to please him though. instead, he’s pulling you along onto the couch, bringing you to rest underneath him as he straddles your waist.

”was it fun? catching up with them while your boyfriend was left to his lonesome?”

you roll your eyes at his exaggeration, but humor him, “my big baby gets lonely without me so easily. perhaps i should never leave this place again, then. wouldn’t you love that?”

he sneers at your tease, lightly jabbing your stomach, “perhaps you should. you don’t think i can’t keep you happy?”

frowning, you sit up, faces centimeters apart. you cup his face, making him instinctively lean into his touch, “i love you, xavier,” you say softly, thumb stroking his sot skin, “i want no one else in this life, only you,”

“only in this life? i see how it is. and that’s why you choose to smell like other men?”

“in all of my lifetimes,” you say with ease, “what else do you want me to do to prove that to you?”

“stop meeting with them,” he shoots back. his usual calm voice turns into one of warning. he leans forward, resting his forehead against yours, “take me with you next time, let me show them you’re mine and i’m yours,”

“show them? how would you have planned doing that?” without responding, falling easily into your teasing and goading, he ducks his head into your neck and immediately gets to work. his teeth are rough against your skin, but you merely suck in a sharp breath and tough out the dull pain. if this is what’ll make xavier content, you’re happy to provide him with this.

he grabs your hands that were resting on his chest and collects them into his one, pinning them above your head with ease.

“you left without letting me mark you,” he breathes out, licking your newly bruised skin, “i think that calls for retribution,”

“i’m all yours, xavier,” you say without missing a beat.

“that’s right,” he trails his nose up your neck, breathing you in and feeling a reawakened anger in him as he smells a man’s cologne that isn’t yours, “so why must you insist on needing others?”

“i don’t need them, it was just a dinner,” you give in to letting him hear what he wants, but also speaking truthfully. you doubt you’ll be reconnecting with them in the future, the dinner was very coincidental thing since they were all back in the area. besides, they didn’t seem like the type of genuine friends you would want.

“you chose them over me,” xavier’s voice is raspy now and it sounds like he’s physically holding back from completely ruining you. the grip on your wrists is tight, the pressure of his body on top of yours feels as if he no longer cares if he puts all of his weight on you.

”i’ll be at your mercy for the rest of my life repenting for that, it seems,” you chuckle, but he just growls in annoyance. “baby,” you call him softly, making him momentarily stop his assault on your neck, “my love, xavier,” his eyes soften, looking up at you expectantly, “i’ll bring you with me wherever i go from now on, consider us glued to the hip now.”

the moment his grip on your wrists loosens even the slightest, you push yourself off of the cushion and hold him in your hands. before even he can process it, your lips are on his, a heated kiss to hopefully relieve him of all his worries.

“i talked about you the whole night, i hope you know that,” you speak in between eager kisses, “showed them pictures of you and me, told them that my boyfriend was waiting for me back home, that i should leave early to keep you company,”

he whines at the information, going limp in your hold. the way you hold him up in a strong embrace only makes his kisses more desperate. he supposes he can partially forgive you for leaving him, since you did come home sooner than originally planned. but, still, xavier’s greed and selfishness when it comes to you cannot be satiated wholly just like that. it’ll take more than that to truly ease his mind.

“xavier, i’m not going anywhere, so you don’t need to worry,” at your words, he settles onto your lap with a much softer, content look on his face. his thumb brushes at your lip, the saliva connecting you two breaking. “i love you,”

“and i think i love you too much,” he confesses, “i love you so much my body can’t be at ease without you near, i can’t focus on anything else, but you. i want to keep you here, only for myself. i wish you wouldn’t have to ever leave this place, i’d provide for you and make sure you’re happy. i’m at your beck and call and i’d do anything you ask — all because i love you.”

he’s no longer the calm, reserved, borderline shy xavier you know, but the xavier with all of his deepest and darkest secret desires, that he used to hide from you, exhibited for you to gaze upon. you’re so deep into your relationship he has long thrown away the mask of normalcy he used to wear. instead, he bares himself to you raw. how desperate he is to be your one and only.

your gaze softens and you’re about to speak, but his hand covers your mouth, “but then i’d scare you away. you’d hate me if i did something like that, keep you chained to this place and restricting you from seeing friends and family, people that aren’t me. so, i’ll settle for this. but just know, i always want more and more. i’m greedy and selfish when it comes to you. so, you must give me all of you in exchange of my lenience. give me your entire being just as you have taken all of me. my reserve, sanity, and existence solely rely on you. it’s only fair if you give me something of equal value, no?”

[81pastrys]

Alone Time

Summary— Mila wants a sibling but leaves no room for said sibling to be made

Warnings— smut ; soft sex ; pregnancy

A/N—I have 13 more in the works 🙂‍↕️

Oscar One Shots

Divider @bernardsbendystraws

Request— Heyy, I remember you saying you wanted more Oscar requests so here’s my idea/request. Do you think you could do Oscar and his wife trying to have some alone time 😏 but their daughter (or kid in general) keeps cockblocking them? And they have to resort to sending their kid to a grandparents or friends house for the night so they can actually be alone?

Oscar and his wife were trying for a second baby, but anytime they would start, little Mila would come in and interrupt them.

The first time was justifiable, there was a thunderstorm and she ran in scared. She was only 2, so the loud thunder probably scared her awake. They put her in the middle of them and she fell asleep, not waking up again until morning.

The second time was reasonable, maybe. She was showing signs of a slight sickness and Oscar could not pry her away, even though he promised his wife that they would go at it once she was in bed. Mila ended up in said bed with them and they just sighed.

The third time was absolutely unnecessary. To keep the toddler happy, they agreed she could sleep with them. No reasoning, just a tantrum at the idea they wouldn’t let her sleep with them in their bed.

Not that they had to have sex every night, but with Mila begging for a sibling and them never being able to get alone for 5 minutes to try, it got frustrating.

So, they planned a getaway and brought her to stay with her aunts and Mimi in Australia, while they went on a date and relaxed in a hotel room. Peace and fucking quiet finally.

“Hopefully one night will be enough?” She joked with him, pouring a glass of wine. “I love Mila so much, but she just never lets up.” She sighed.

“I love her too, but she is in that clingy stage huh?” Oscar agreed. Why were they even talking? They should both be naked by now. “We got a hotel and all we’re doing is complaining about our toddler.” Oscar laughed.

She scoffed and sipped her wine. “Well, if she wants a sibling, we better get to it.” She teased. She set the glass down and they got undressed hastily. Now they were desperate to finally have the alone time they yearned for.

There wasn’t much foreplay involved, considering they wanted to get straight to the point. Oscar sunk into her wet walls and they simultaneously moaned at the feeling. “I missed this.” Oscar whispered on her lips.

“Me too, now put a baby in me.” She whispered back. He smiled with her and began thrusting slowly. They enjoyed the dynamic of slow sex rather than rough sex.

The feeling of every vein, every inch, every thrust- it was perfect. They timed the trip within a fertile window so it would most likely work the way they wanted it to. “I can’t wait to see your pregnant belly again, you’re so beautiful.” He groaned. His hips stuttered at the thought of her pregnant again.

She moaned and he sped up his thrusts, both of them enjoying the steady pleasure. “Right there Osc.” She moaned when he angled perfectly at her g-spot, making her mind dizzy. He continued thrusting steadily into her and she finished first.

Her back arched and her legs shook with the intensity as he continued. He slowed to a pace he knew he could finish with and thrusted as deep as he could to spill all of his cum into her.

He stayed interlocked with her as they calmed down, making sure the one time would do the trick. She played with his hair as he laid on her chest. They cleaned up the mess made and went to sleep, cuddling each other without a toddler in between them.

They picked up Mila the next day and she was super excited to see them again even if it was just 24 hours. Oscar had a good laugh when his wife ended up pregnant again. “You think it’s a boy?” Oscar asked. She wasn’t even close to knowing.

“I don’t know, maybe ask your sisters.” She replied jokingly. They told Mila she was going to be a big sister and she was in shock.

“Mama has baby?” She asked. They nodded and Mila touched her belly. “Small baby.” She mumbled and kissed the skin gently.

Word Count: 667

Big sister Mila, I’m melting

@il0vereadingstuff @angelluv16 @pandabiiissh @kallanfiona @itznotsophia

[kireilien]

obsessed.

pair. bf!seungcheol x fem!reader; wc. 2,737

tw/cw. nsfw content, cursing, intentional lowercase, not proofread, alcohol use; plot heavy story, angst-ish?, dom!seungcheol, sub!reader, race neutral reader, reader is an overthinker, food play, alcohol consumption, wam (wet and messy), slight spit play, kissing, oral (f receiving), cunnilingus, multiple orgasms, nipple play, unprotected sex, doggy style over the counter, hair pulling, use of “cheol,” and “baby” 

synopsis. thinking of how shit your life was, you genuinely thought your boyfriend would break up with you. turns out he never would because he’s way too obsessed with you!

note. please don’t fucking eat people out do anything w alcohol like this, this is fiction THIS IS FAKE anyways rare food item eat this up

you felt like all of your feelings overwhelmed you. work has been terrible. your personal life is as shitty as it could be. you and your boyfriend have been distant more than ever. everything. literally everything in your life was actually horrible. 

day after day. 

afternoon after afternoon. 

night after night.

it just repeats. every single damn time. nothing is new to you anymore. you wake up. get ready for work. step into the office. get yelled off by your coworkers and boss. work over time because you’re the only one who doesn’t have any plans. get home. eat a shitty ass meal. get unready. sleep. then it repeats.

so what could you be doing out of all the days of rest? it's watching movies on your living room couch and just being a complete slob. you’ve never let it got this low. you turned your phone on silent, left your laptop away, and the only thing electronic with you was your tv. 

time passes. your low and hazy-like eyes shift to the clock onto the top left of your tv screen, barely even focusing.

10:30/22:30.

huh. didn’t know being a slob was that much of a waste of time. in a blink of an eye, the day has already passed. 

without much of a thought, you knew that there weren’t going to be any important notifications besides the typical notifications you would get from random apps on your phone that you didn’t bother to turn off. 

but to your surprise, there was something important.

missed calls from your boyfriend, seungcheol.

you regretted seeing those missed calls. you haven’t been the greatest partner these past few months to him. your life came crashing down, what could you do?

reluctantly so, you picked up one of his calls. 

the last call out of all five he sent was approximately two hours ago. surely he’d be active, right? there weren’t any voicemails left by his number anyways. you were slightly scared though when the echoing ring filled your right ear from your phone being flat against it.

you grit your teeth. what if he wanted to break up? it wasn’t gonna be a surprise if he wanted to. like before, being a shitty partner and being absent in all ways isn’t the best partner. yet, a small, painful ping in your heart says you could’ve done better.

it picks up.

“y/n?” seungcheol exhales.

you’ve missed his voice like crazy. you temporarily forgot why he was your boyfriend in the first place. he’s the first man who really made you feel love in your heart rather than your other exes.

“cheol,” you smile behind the phone.

“can i come over?” he sighs.

you immediately felt your smile and heart fall after you hear those four words. he was definitely going to break up with you. you couldn’t believe it. you swore to yourself you could’ve prevented it. you were just too late.

“cheol. i’m so sorry,” your teeth were clenched but, you carried on, “i wish i could’ve been better for you. you don’t need to come over. i’m so, so sorry.”

before you knew it, your water line fills with salty tears; daringly about to fall and roll down your cheeks.

“y/n, what the fuck do you mean?” seungcheol laughs lightly against the phone. you could hear a bag rustle in the background of his call with a few glass bottles getting put into that said bag. “baby, i’m coming over. we’re talking but we are definitely not breaking up.”

you took a moment to recollect what just happened in the last few seconds. seungcheol isn’t mad at you. he isn’t breaking up with you either?

after a quick pause and a quick wiping of your eyes, you continued the conversation, “uhm, sure. what’re you doing?”

“let’s have a drink. we haven’t drank any soju in a while, have we?” he mumbles a bit after hearing him shuffling out the door while exiting his apartment complex.

“oh. yeah, we haven’t. when you coming?” you were glad he wasn’t angry, but you were still confused why he wasn’t.

“like uhh, gonna be there in 10?” seungcheol hums as you hear the dragging of his slippers against the concrete of his complex garage.

“cool, ‘kay see you then, cheol,” you sigh in relief. unconsciously, you were picking at the sides of your couch pillows in nervousness though. 

“yeah, see ‘ya, baby.” he ends the call as he turns on his engine of his car.

your phone drops beside you; lightly bouncing on the fabric of your couch. you were definitely gonna get a small earful of what seungcheol has to say about you worrying. he hates hearing you worry. 

but never mind that. you at least wanted to tidy yourself up before seungcheol arrives. so, you changed out to newer pajamas and headed over to the kitchen to pull out your cute matching shot glasses, remembering how it was still early on into your relationship when you got them.

you still remember your weekly drinking sessions with cheol. they were so giggly. sometimes glum, most times intimate and borderline sexual. nonetheless, you also missed drinking with him. you miss the nights where it was just the two of you alone. no one ever joined in. it was because it was a secret between you and him. just a night. for the two of you.

as you were lost in your romantic thoughts, seungcheol rings the doorbell. lightly skipping over, you swing the door open to your ever-so handsome boyfriend. everything from his tousled deep black hair, white tee, gray loose zip up, some black sweats, and his black slippers that you heard over the phone, was just perfect.

the little thumps in your heart came again. just like a few months back when you still visited him often.

“soju?” he gleefully lifts up the crinkled plastic bag while tilting his head down to place a small kiss against your lips. 

you return this kiss while nodding, “i have our shot glasses out.” 

taking off his slippers, you guide him to your kitchen counter where your glasses are. cheol snickers at them, still remembering those fond memories of the two of you drinking every week.

“shall we?” you grin.

“we shall,” he reciprocates.

opening up a brand new bottle of soju, specifically the blue bottle by jinro, seungcheol pours out some for the both of you. “no tricks this time?” you poke at your boyfriend.

he rolls his eyes. he always used to do those fancy tricks when he drank. cheol sighs and closes the bottle up again. he flips the bottle, making his arms crossed to open it up again and rearranged his hands again to flick some of the alcohol towards you. you flinch away from the splatter, giggling at his attempts to have some fun.

finally, the two of you brought your respective shot glasses up to have a small clink for a cheers and shot it down your mouths in a quick second. the gasp of the cool alcohol leaves your lips, already needing more of the addicting drink.

one shot, down.

half a bottle, down.

one bottle, down.

another half bottle, down.

before you knew it, the both of your brains started to cog a different way than before. you could already tell by the silence in between all the shots the two of you took.

after the moments of silence, cheol speaks up, “y’know. i’ve missed you,” he murmurs with his tired eyes. 

you snicker, “how can you miss me when i’ve been the shittiest girlfriend ever? i never pick up your calls or texts. i never—.” before you could even continue, seungcheol immediately shuts you up by pressing his lips against yours for a quick second.

“you really needa stop doing that. i miss you. that’s it. i’m obsessed with you at this point. not even just now, i’ve been obsessed with you. there’s no other way around it,” he sighs while softly tap-slapping your cheek.

“oh, really?” you twiddle with your shot glass, rolling it between your fingers.

“yes, really.” seungcheol is confused why you’re dragging this out for so long. why couldn’t you just realize it?

“hey,” he breaths out.

“what?” you retort back.

“how about i show you how obsessed i am with you,” cheol simpers.

“sure.” you liked how this was going.

seungcheol immediately attaches your lips with his again, however in a romantic-like gesture. his hands slide onto your body so fluidly he reaches down, all the way to your hips. while yours found their way up and about in his hair. you could both taste the soju dancing along your mouths, loving the way it mixed into your saliva. 

quickly enough, breaths began to get rapid. the two of you were almost animalistic with each other; hands were everywhere. seungcheol’s grunts and your whines were more than enough to understand that the both of you couldn’t get enough of each other. you still didn’t believe the man you thought you lost was making your mouth messy with his.

“fuck it,” cheol let’s your plumped lips go and downs the rest of the soju remained in the bottle. but, he leaves half of it still in his mouth, waiting for someone to drink the rest. that someone, is you.

he returns back the kiss, allowing the alcohol slip down your mouth, ingesting it along with the enhancing wetness of his spit from the soju beforehand. you were well dizzy from this point on. not from the drinking though. it was purely from seungcheol. he’s driving you crazy, nothing like ever before.

you couldn’t help yourself. you needed him so, so, bad. you zip off his zip up jacket, throwing it across the kitchen somewhere; as well as his shirt to reveal his bulky figure he’s been building up these past few months. 

cheol was ravenous. you didn’t know if it was from the buzzing from the alcohol or the making out, but he was sure enough it was just from you. 

he slips off your pants and underwear, leaving you bottom naked for him to prop you up on your cold kitchen counter. you lay back on your propped up elbows to give him a wide view of your dripping cunt, out and ready for him to use. 

taking another bottle from his bag, seungcheol twists open another bottle of soju to pour a few drops over cunt for him. “fuck— i need you, cheol. i need you so bad.” you whimper under his touch.

“i got you, baby, lemme make you feel so good,” he mutters a bit before outlining your sopping pussy, kissing a few times over. seungcheol hooks his bulky arms underneath your thighs to have you lie completely down the counter to make sure he has all of you, melting in his hands.

at this point the soju, his saliva, and your juices covered your inner thighs. you couldn’t bare to open your eyes. cheol made you crazy. he knew how to mess with your head. his hands even pulled down to slide his thumbs on the edges of your inner lips to extend his view of your pretty cunt. 

you were melting on the counter. your hands were tangling his hair, legs were hooked were propped on his back, and you didn’t give a single fuck of how loud you were being. moan after whine after whimper was continuously falling with seungcheol’s name. you couldn’t help it.

soon after, the knot in your stomach felt tighter and tighter in seconds. “fuck—! cheol ‘m gonna—!” you groaned out.

“come on my face, baby— lemme taste your sweet cum,” he sighs against your drenched cunt.

in a matter of seconds the knot in you snapped, causing you to release your cum all over seungcheol’s face. he laps your juices to make sure he tasted all of you and comes back up to your face, “god, baby— you see— literally obsessed enough to eat you out with alcohol dripping down your pretty pussy,” he mumbles as he stares into your eyes while taking his hand to dip down and rub small rings around your clit.

“more— i need more, cheol.”

“take off this top, baby, i’ll give you more.”

you discard your shirt to some other place in the kitchen as cheol shoots down the rest of alcohol in the bottle in his mouth. seungcheol then latches his mouth around your right nipple. your mouth shot open with strings of curses leaving your lips, relishing in the coldness from the soju, as well as the warmth of his mouth. 

his lips danced between both of your nipples and down to your stomach, back up to your lips. “slide down, baby. i wanna fuck you— wanna fuck you so bad,” cheol groans in your ear. you nod quickly before pressing your torso down against the semi-cold and semi-hot counter. 

seungcheol strips himself as quickly as he possibly could and lines himself against your cunt; nearly breathless. the vibrations from your whines buzzes against your cheek. you were on overdrive at this point. your brain was mush, and it was about to become every bit more mushed.

with one quick push, cheol bottoms himself out completely in you; gaining two hearty moans from the both of your mouths. 

after a few pauses, cheol whispers against your ear, “you good, baby?”

“mhm, please, fuck me, cheol.”

cheol slides his hands under your hips to slide yourself on and off your cock. the slickness of your cunt and the soju claps between cheol’s cock. although the pace was slow at first, the speed and intensity soon picked up. 

you couldn’t contain your moans of movement. your hands started to become sporadic. your hands gripped onto the edge of the counter to the flat middle of the counter. seungcheol noticed your hands but his eyes eventually trailed to the a few bottles still unopened in his plastic bag.

he stopped his movements and slipped his hands out from your hips to open up another bottle. as one hand holds the bottle cheol’s other hand slides up to your hair and pulls it back, making your back flesh against his chest. “you haven’t drank that much tonight, baby. care for a drink?” seungcheol seductively hums in your ear.

your mouth slacks open for cheol to pour a good amount of the soju for you to gulp down. a sigh of relief exits your mouth from the soju but that was soon interrupted by a sudden snap of cheol’s hips. his tip just grazes your cervix from that snap, causing you to gasp.

“you seem to like the drink more than my dick, baby.” cheol tsked from your reaction. 

“no— i don’t! fuck me, cheol. i love your cock. i’m obsessed with it,” you frantically try to buck your hips back to fuck your self back on his cock.

he chuckles at your weak attempts of fucking yourself back on his cock. “here, drink the rest, will you? lemme make you feel good.” seungcheol passes the bottle off as his hands finds your hips again to sharply snap his hips against yours.

meanwhile, you could barely hold the cold rim against your lips. with each thrust up, you caught a tremble in the glass. you needed to get this over with. you didn’t care that the strong liquid pours over your chin and onto the countertops. with quick gulps, the majority of the soju was gone.

finally, you could focus on cheol’s cock. the glass rings from the sudden hit of your hands to the countertop, literally nothing could phase you past your boyfriends cock. it was too heavenly to focus on anything else.

the thick veins on his dick are pulsing from the friction between him and the slickness of your cunt; just dripping from arousal. your moans and whines intertwined with cheol’s grunts and groans; it was almost too erotic.

eventually, cheol’s thrusts started to become stronger yet, slower. with a few more pumps, the both of you came; coating each other in your sticky fluids. after a few hearty breaths, seungcheol comes close to your face.

“can’t you see i’m obsessed with you?” seungcheol kisses your cheek gently. 

“yeah— can now,” you smile from his kiss.

even then, you were already obsessed with seungcheol from the start.

© KIREILIEN 2025 | please like, repost, and/or comment! ♡︎

[slutoru1207]

First time Invincible!Mark x reader

TW: smau, mature content, 18+ afab MDNI

Invincible!Mark who after a long mission went straight to your house because he just couldn’t stay away from you. Invincible!Mark who kisses you as soon as he sees you laying down in bed with nothing but his shirt and some small tight shorts.

Invincible!Mark who couldn’t help himself seeing you like this and feeling you.

Invincible!Mark who had no experience whatsoever so sweetie this is his first time.

Invincible!Mark who is a virgin and knows nothing about sex. Invincible!Mark who kisses you everywhere, takes your clothes off slowly and makes sure to have his hands everywhere on you but also couldn’t help but he scared.

Mark wasn’t sure if he’d ever known true fear before that night.

Yeah, he’d fought world-ending threats. Yeah, he’d been beaten half to death by people way stronger than him. But nothing—nothing—compared to the absolute terror he felt when he was hovering over you that first time, trying not to break you in half.

His arms were shaking.

Not because he was tired—he could bench press a spaceship if he wanted to—but because he was terrified of hurting you.

You looked so small beneath him. So soft. So human.

He could hear your heartbeat—racing, thudding, loud. He could feel the warmth of your skin against his fingertips, the way your breath hitched every time he moved even a little.

He wanted you so bad.

But he also wanted to stop completely because what if he got too lost in it? What if he lost control? What if he accidentally did something irrevocable?

And so, the entire time, he moved slowly. Carefully. Probably too carefully.

You were saying his name in that voice, the one that made his stomach coil and his mind go hazy, and he was dying.

But he was also thinking too much.

You deserved the best. You deserved more.

And the way he was doing it? He was sure it was the worst.

He could barely move without overthinking it.

His jaw clenched as he held himself up, refusing to let even a fraction of his weight rest on you. He was focused. Too focused. Every tiny noise you made had him pausing.

Every sharp inhale? He stopped.

Every shift in your body? He stopped.

Every time your fingers gripped his shoulders or tangled in his hair? He stopped.

He was sure you were frustrated.

Hell, he was frustrated.

And then, it happened.

He was so caught up in his head, so caught up in holding back, that he didn’t realize the way he was gripping the bed frame—

Until it snapped.

Loud. Violent. The entire mattress lurched.

And Mark froze.

His breath hitched. His eyes widened.

Oh, fuck.

He ruined it.

His stomach dropped so fast he thought he might be sick.

“Shit—shit—are you okay?” His hands were everywhere, checking your arms, your waist, your face. “Did I hurt you? Oh my God, I—”

You?

You just burst into laughter.

Mark blinked.

What.

You were giggling. Breathless, flushed, giddy.

And then—you pulled him down into a kiss.

Mark’s brain short-circuited.

“What—?” His voice came out shaky.

You grinned against his lips, hands sliding into his hair. “I was wondering when you were gonna stop holding back.”

His entire soul left his body.

He pulled back just enough to look at you. “Wait… you weren’t mad?”

Your laugh was pure sin. “Mad? Mark, I thought you were gonna put me to sleep with how careful you were being.”

Mark choked on air.

You smirked.

“You were scared you’d break me, huh?”

Mark opened his mouth—then closed it. He couldn’t deny it.

Your hands slipped down his chest, tracing his muscles. “You can be a little rough, y’know. I can handle it.”

Mark made a distressed noise.

You had no idea what that did to him.

He wanted you. Every instinct in his body was screaming at him to take what was his, to claim, to mark, to devour.

But—

“Are you sure?” His voice came out strained.

You gave him a slow, lazy smile. “Yes, Mark. I’m sure.”

And that was when it all changed.

That was when he finally let himself go.

And he felt it.

The second he stopped thinking, the second he let himself get lost in you, everything felt different.

Better. So much better.

Invincible!Mark who had his knees next to your waste while your legs were up on his shoulders, the little ankle bracelet he bought you with his initial.

Invincible!Mark who couldn’t help but get goosebumps the way you moaned his name.

Invincible!Mark who pins your hands and leaves small bruises on your wrists.

Invincible!Mark who leaves hickeys everywhere on your body.

Invincible!Mark who kisses your ankles, who makes sure to whisperer in your ear on how good you’re taking him, how good you feel.

Invincible!Mark who loves missionary because he gets to see the expressions you make, the way your eyebrows pinch, the way your eyes roll back when he hits that certain spot.

The sounds you made, the way you clung to him, the way you moaned his name—

He was never going back to holding back. Ever.

And when you came undone underneath him?

Yeah.

He was done for.

babe you got this man pussy whipped ☺️

what do you guysss thinkkk

[thebearer]

in your eyes, the man that i could be |carmen berzatto x reader| part two

prompt: after carmen finds out you're staying at pete and sugar's house, he goes to try and talk to you. he's faced with his furious sister and harsh truths instead.

or part two of the devastation fic lol that is based off this ask from the other day <3

contains: angst! angst! this one is very much so more carmen focused bc let's be real... he's the problem in this one lol. still hurt with no comfort but more this one than last one?? mentions to past trauma, family trauma. sugar clears carmen in this one. slight mean carmen still, slight angry carmen still. language. dad!carmen x mom!reader. no resolution but the make up is in the next and final part! still heavy so read at your own discretion! word count- 4.8k+

Fak twisted his hands, nervously watching Carmen pace back and forth furiously. One hand running through his hair, tangled and matted from the continued motion; the other lifting and pulling the cigarette to and from his lips. Fak wasn’t sure how Carmen wasn’t sick yet. He’d never seen him smoke so much, seen anyone smoke so much. 

“Neil, I’m not fuckin’ playin’ anymore, ok? You’re startin’ to really, really fuckin’ piss me off.” Carmen’s jaw ground tight, voice starting to growl with that gravelly warning shake that had Fak flinching. “You better tell me where you put my fuckin’ car keys, alright? I-I’m not sitting here, ok? I’m not gonna sit around wi-with my fuckin’ thumb up my ass like a jagoff while my wife and kid are a-at fuckin’ Sugar and Pete’s!” 

“Carmy,” Fak tried to keep his voice calm and firm, like Sugar and Richie had coached him to, hyping him up before he entered the house. “I can’t give you your keys right now, becaus-” 

“-Oh, fuck you! Fuck you! Who the fuck do you think you are, huh?” Carmen roared, teeth bared and eyes narrowed. 

Fak didn’t think he’d ever say it, but he missed the sad Carmen from before. When he’d been sent to check on Carmen and Richie, to find out where the hell they were before Sydney had a meltdown in the kitchen, only to find a nearly hyperventilating Carmen and an unsure and frantic Richie trying to calm him. Fak had known Carmen a long time, his whole life, really, and never once had he seen him so… so sad. 

That sadness was long gone now. In its wake, an anger, worse than before, than he’d ever seen or could have imagined. Fak had just tried to comfort Carmen, offer up some encouragement that you and Teddy and Anchovy were all ok, taken care of- at Pete and Sugar’s. He didn’t realize how that would flip the switch, how it would infuriate Carmen. 

“I-I’m Fak.” Fak blinked, nervously. “You know me. I’m your friend, Carm, and I-I’m just trying to help you-” 

“-You’re trying to help me? You’re trying to fuckin’ help me by keepin’ me away from my wife?” Carmen’s voice boomed, shaking the walls of the house. 

Even in his loud rage, the house seemed too quiet, too still. There was no baby TV show on, no hum of the diffusers, or Anchovy’s small purrs and chirps. Carmen missed him, missed him jumping on the counters just to piss him off. He missed you defending him, missed how Anchovy would startle and run anytime Teddy would gurgle or whine. 

God, he missed Teddy. He spent the first night in the nursery, sitting in the rocking chair, staring blankly ahead, wishing he had the small screaming bundle to rock to sleep. 

Carmen couldn’t bring himself to go into the bedroom. Not again. Not after he found your ring laying there. He’d scared Richie so badly with his cries that Richie had enforced the ‘Mikey Prevention Plan’, his twisted humor of a way at keeping Carmen from being alone, from hurting himself in his misery. 

“Carm, I-I can’t.” Fak stuttered, looking at the door, begging Richie or anyone, really, to walk through the door. “You know I can’t.” 

“This is fucked up, Neil. You know that? You know how fucked up this is? Keepin’ me from-from Teddy? From my kid?” Carmen took a long drag of the cigarette, smoke blowing out of his nose with his panicked breathing. His hands still shook, everything was still shaky and rattling with uneasiness inside him. 

“Carm, I- Don’t say that.” Fak shook his head, he could feel himself caving. Carmen could too. 

“You’re keepin’ me from her, Fak. You know that? You know you-you’re keepin’ me from my daughter? My baby? Don’t you-you know how fucked up that is?” Carmen shook his head, lips pursing in disgust. “You’re lettin’ Richie boss you around like he always does, an-and you know, you know deep down that this is wrong. Keepin’ me from them is wrong.” 

Fak hesitated, a nervous sweat breaking out on the back of his neck. “Richie said-” 

“-Richie can get fucked. Ric-Richie doesn’t know shit! He doesn’t know shit, you know he doesn’t know shit, a-and you’re lettin’ him tell you what to do? Richie?” Carmen scoffed, throwing his hands out. “The fuck does Richie know, huh? H-He’s divorced, an-an-and barely sees his kid-” 

“-Hey!-” Fak’s eyes widened in shock. “Carmen, you don’t-” 

“-Is that what you want? You want me to end up alone?” Carmen’s eyes are wild, crazed, but he goes still. “Y-You want me to end up like-like Richie? Li-Li-Like that?” 

Fak swallows, both standing in the thick, tension filled silence. “Carmen, I-I can’t.” Fak shook his head slowly. “I don’t… I think you need to, I don’t know, I think you need to calm down before you go see them.” 

“Calm down, you’re tellin’ me to calm down.” Carmen snarled, bitterly scoffing at Fak. “Fuck you. Alright? Fuck you. I will never forgive you for this shit. You hear me? You-You doin’ this to me, keepin’ me from my family. I’ll never fuckin’ forgive you.” 

Fak flinched, Carmen’s words cutting brutally through him with a bitter sting. Carmen stormed off, the front door slamming with a force that sent vibrations through the house. Fak was surprised it didn’t split the wood in two. Walking towards the front window, he saw Carmen storming off, furiously lighting another cigarette, running a hand through his hair, again. Fak assumed he was out of Spirits, that he’d smoked through another pack, walking to the corner store to get more. After thirty minutes, he called Richie, frantic that he’d let Carmen loose. 

“What part of Mikey Prevention Plan don’t you fuckin’ understand?” Richie sneered over the phone, trying to keep his voice low so the new hires didn’t hear. As far as they were concerned, Carmen was on a vacation, only the OGs knew the truth. 

“I-I didn’t mean to! I swear!” Fak’s voice lilted high, a shrill of nerves that had Richie’s eyes pinching in annoyance. “I thought he was going to the corner store to get more cigarettes, an-and then he didn’t come back for a while-” 

“-What’s a while?” Richie muttered, catching Tina’s eye through the glass. She set her rag down quickly, walking towards him. 

“I dunno… Fifteen, thirty minutes?” Fak mumbled. “Maybe closer to an hour now. B-But then I went to look for him, and he wasn’t there, so I asked the guy working and he said he hadn’t seen him, and-and now I’m driving around trying to find him. I-I’m shouting his name out the window and everything!” 

“He’s not a dog, Neil, he won’t-” Richie huffed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I know where he’s at.” 

“You do?” Fak perked up. 

“Yeah, I mean, no, but I-I’m pretty sure I know where he’s at since you fuckin’ told him where they were stayin’.” Richie rolled his eyes bitterly. “Just- Come over here and get me, alright? Let me call Pete- God, you and this fuckin’ kid, got me callin’ Pete. You’re killin’ me Neil Jeff.” 

Richie hung up the phone with a huff, looking up at Tina. “What’s goin’ on? Jeff alright? What’s he doin’?” She pressed. 

“Yeah, Fak-Fak fuckin’ lost him.” Richie rubbed his forehead in exasperation. “But, I think I know where he’s at. Have a pretty good idea, anyways.” 

Tina eyed Richie carefully. “Richie, you know I love that kid, you know I do. But if he’s fuckin’ with Mama,” Tina shook her head, lips pursing in fury. It was no secret how taken she was to you, even before the affectionate nickname that came with the pregnancy. 

“He’s not,” Richie shook his head. “He’s stupid, hot headed, a fuckin’ baby- all that. But… C’mon, T, you and I both know he loves her. He wouldn’t do anything to them. Do somethin’ to himself before that.” 

Tina paused but nodded, face softening. “So, you know where he’s at then? You don’t… You don’t think he’s gonna…” She couldn’t bring herself to say it, looking at the picture of Mikey with Richie, Tina, Ebra, and Marcus only a few months before he passed. Carmen had placed it at the front, a reminder of the legacy that was there before him, of The Beef and his brother. 

“No, I hope not.” Richie muttered, looking at his phone’s screen with dread, Pete’s contact on the screen gleaming back at him nearly mockingly. “I think I know where he is.” He sighed, pressing the button. 

Pete could feel his phone buzzing in his pants, ignoring it as he held the front door in a white knuckled grip. He hadn’t expected to see Carmen there, on his Ring camera, knocking on the door softly, softer than he expected given his manic looking state. 

“H-Hey, Carm,” Pete closed the door as casually as he could, only leaving a sliver open. “What, uh, what’s up, man?” 

“Hey, Pete,” Carmen could barely meet his gaze, suddenly overly aware of how disheveled he must have looked. 

“Uh, what-what brings you by?” Pete stuttered, heart picking up when he heard the soft thump behind him, Anchovy lurking behind his legs curiously. He gripped the door, shuffling his legs together, trying to close it on his frame so Anchovy wouldn’t slip by. 

“C’mon,” Carmen sighed, a tired look in his eye, too exhausted to even be pleading. “You know why I’m here, alright. I-I know they’re here.” 

“W-Who is? Sugar? Yeah, she-she’s off today.” Pete stiffened at the claim, swallowing nervously, trying to play it cool. Anchovy meowed loudly behind him, cringing when he was  given away by the cat. 

“Pete, don’t-” Carmen pinched the bridge of his nose, breathing in slowly, trying to calm the tears that threatened to fall. He could hear Anchovy, hear the sounds of the house- the home. Soft child shows, the hum of the dryer, all the things that made the house feel alive. Carmen would give anything to have his home sound like that again, the silence was beginning to drive him crazy. 

“Where is she?” Carmen looks up, his gaze much harder than before, a frantic look beginning to take over his sadness. 

“I, uh, I-I don’t-” Pete stutters, fingers tapping on the wood of the door anxiously. 

“-Pete, I really don’t want you to fuck with me right now, alright?” Carmen takes a deep breath, trying to swallow back his emotions that were already beginning to climb in his throat again. “I need to- I-I need to see her, Pete.” Carmen couldn’t bring himself to say your name, sure even the first syllable would have him in tears, breaking down on the front porch. 

Another meow, louder than before, came before Pete could answer. The soft scratching of Anchovy’s paws on the door, a demanding meow that Carmen knew all too well. He’d learned to drown it out, or try to. It became nearly a soundtrack to your sex life when you’d first gotten the cat, locking him out of the room so you two could fuck, only for him to yowl and scratch and demand to be let in. Carmen could remember how you’d giggle, pouting at him exaggeratedly to let him in. His heart fell with an ache that was warm yet still made him feel sick. 

Pete looked down at the cat, then back at Carmen, a hesitant grimace on his face. “Carm… You-You know I would,” He started. Carmen’s heart soared with hope, eyes wide, a near adrenaline rush of excitement shooting through his system. “But…You know I can’t.” 

Carmen’s heart crashed, shattered with the hope he’d finally begun to find, to feel again. “What the fuc- Pete, that’s… Pete, c’mon. C’mon. Yo-You gotta let me in. Let me in.” Anger surged through Carmen’s chest. He closed his eyes tight and tried to swallow it down. All he’d been is angry. For weeks now, it had been a never ending cycle of anger and sickness and distraught, all amplified to new heights the second you left. 

Carmen could feel himself spiraling, ears starting to ring again, rushing and roaring flashbacks flooding into his mind. Your face when you left, Teddy’s cries, the critic’s pursed lips, Sydney’s disappointed face when he forgot something again, Tina’s eyes cutting. Carmen turned, shaking his hand lightly, trying to do a breathing exercise he saw on YouTube, years ago when he’d moved to New York. 

His breaths were deep, shaky, but deep enough that it cleared his head, dulled the ringing. His mind wandered back, Richie’s voice ringing in his head. “You wanna get her back? Quit actin’ like a goddam baby. Quit actin’ like this isn’t your own fuckin’ fault. Like you didn’t do this shit to yourself, Cousin. Take some fuckin’ accountability, grow the fuck up, and get your motherfuckin’ shit together, alright? And maybe-maybe you’ll get your family back.” Richie’s voice rang clear through his mind from a few nights ago, when Carmen was especially mean and awful. 

“Hey, uh, you alright?” Pete hesitated, leaning towards Carmen, his grip on the door loosening. 

Carmen took a deep breath, running a hand over his face before he turned back towards Pete, eyes shining with tears that threatened to fall. “Pete, please? Please?” Carmen begged, voice soft, cracking at the end. “Please, jus-just let me see her? L-Let me talk to her? Just- Let me tell her tha-that I’m sorry. Please… I need to tell her I-I’m sorry. Don’t-” 

“-Carmen?” Sugar gaped, her voice coming from behind Pete. She pulled the door open, shocked gaze dropping into furious, jaw setting in a near snarl. “What the fuck are you doing here?” She hissed. 

“Why do you think I’m here, Natalie? Huh?” Carmen snapped in anger, rolling his eyes in annoyance. 

“Oh, you’ve got a lot of fucking nerve showing up here.” Natalie snapped back, pulling the door open and stepping out on the porch. She stood in front of her younger brother, arms crossed in a standoff. 

“Pete, go inside.” Sugar sneered, her gaze not moving from Carmen’s. She felt like they were children again, having a staring contest to see who got the last piece of gum from Donna’s purse, only this time, it was for worse. 

“Nat, I-” 

“-I got it.” Natalie said firmly. Pete didn’t argue with her, simply nodding, shutting the door softly behind them. Her eyes held Carmen’s gaze, both of them intense, furious at the other for other reasons. 

“You should be ashamed of yourself-” 

“-I am-” 

“-Mortified.” Sugar sneered, giving him a disgusted shake of her head. Carmen shifted, biting his own tongue to keep it from lashing out at her. “Do you know what I came home to the other night? You want me to tell you?-” 

“-No, I know-” 

“-No, I’m going to tell you.” Natalie snapped. “I came home after a very long shift because our head chef decided to, oh, I don’t know- disappear and go on a psychotic rampage apparently.” Natalie scoffed sarcastically. 

“And I walk through the door, ready for bed. Maybe a glass of wine, maybe a bath, maybe to finally catch up on my shows with my husband; and you know what I found instead?” Sugar took a step towards Carmen, intimidating him with her harsh glare. “I find my husband taking care of your baby because your wife is sobbing-” 

“-Don’t-” 

“-No, no. I mean, sobbing. A total broken mess on my kitchen table, because she said you,” Sugar jabbed a finger at Carmen. “Decided to come home and scream at her. Not only scream, but say some of the most volatile, disgusting things I’ve ever fucking heard in my life to your wife, the mother of your very much so still a newborn baby.” 

Carmen felt the familiar wave of nausea wash over him, swallowing back spit that pooled in his mouth with a cry that threatened to fall from his chest. He couldn’t bring himself to speak, to look at her gaze anymore. It felt too judgemental, left him feeling too vulnerable and sick of himself under it. 

“So let me ask first; What the fuck is the matter with you?” Natalie sneered. 

“I don’t know.” Carmen’s voice was tight, jaw tighter, fighting a tremble that was threatening to break. “I-I don’t… I don’t fuckin’ know. I-I didn’t- I didn’t mean it-” A single tear fell, slipping out of the corner of his eyes, sliding down his cheek- the final crack in his demeanor. 

Carmen tried to fight it, deep breaths that burned his lungs and nose to control the tears, keep him from breaking here on his sister’s porch, but they wouldn’t stop. Carmen wasn’t sure how he had any tears left, after crying for days on end, how he hadn’t shriveled up his tear ducts. Yet here he was, broken sobs slipping out again. 

Sugar didn’t move. Arms still crossed over her chest, lips still fixed in a hard line, watching Carmen with intensity as he broke down, tears flowing in front of her. She didn’t comfort him, not that he expected her to. She didn’t try to give him words of encouragement, advice on how to right the wrongs like the others did. Instead, she kept a furious gaze on him, unmoved by the tears. 

“Please,” Carmen sniffed hard, running the back of his hand over his nose. “Please, Sugar, please. Ju-Just let me see Teddy. Let me se-ee her. Don’t-Don’t do this to me. Don’t ke-ep my kid away from me-” 

“-Me?” Sugar scoffed, pushing her hand into her chest. “Oh, no. No, no, no, no. Don’t you even start that shit, Carm. I’m not keeping your kid away from you, let’s make that clear.” 

Carmen’s breath hitched when she stepped towards him, toe to toe with him, teeth bared in a grit of anger. “I didn’t take your kid away. You know who did? Hm? You.” Natalie snapped, Carmen flinched at the cruelty of her words. “You did this, Carmen. You did every last bit of this. This is on you. No one else but you.” 

Carmen held in a cry that threatened to break out, face crumbling with tears. He rubbed his hand over his face, trying to soothe the burn and hide his distraught. “And you know something else? I know you don’t remember dad very well, but I do, ok? And lately, you’ve been acting just like him.” Sugar’s tone clipped, leaving a burning sting in Carmen’s chest at her words. 

“Yelling just because shit didn’t go your way? Do you know part of the reason mom’s so fucked up? Why everyone takes her side all the time and babies her? Uncle Jimmy and Uncle Lee? It’s because dad used to berate her, scream at her so badly- say some of the worst shit in the world because he was stressed out, that those guys would feel bad for her.” Sugar ranted. “And I promise you- promise you if I told Uncle Jimmy right now what you said, how I found your wife, he’d agree with me. Maybe even worse.” 

Carmen shifted, his heart squeezing in fear now. Jimmy loved you, always had. He held a special soft spot in his heart for you. Worse was probably right, and truthfully, Carmen would accept it- he deserved it. It wouldn’t be as bad as how he felt right now. 

Natalie held Carmen’s gaze, letting her words sink in. She lifted his hand when he started to talk. “I don’t-I really don’t want to hear it, ok?” Natalie shook her head. “And before you start trying to come up with some excuse-” 

“-I-I’m not-” 

“- I want you to know something. To hear it and really listen to it.” Natalie paused, waiting until his eyes met hers to continue. “I know you’ve been through a lot- We’ve been through a lot. But that doesn’t mean you get to just treat people like shit. That you can act like this and it’s ok.” 

“I know that.” Carmen’s jaw was tight, strangled words croaking out. 

“Then act like it.” Natalie snapped. “It’s not easy, none of this is easy, Carm. I mean… Do you know that every day- every single day, I wake up and something happens that’s shitty or rough, and I think about how easy it would be just to grab a bottle of wine or two. Drink myself unconscious like mom does. Just how easy that would be, how nice it would be just to drown myself out instead of face the issues.” 

“There’s days when MJ or Maggie or-or Pete just drive me fuckin’ nuts, and I want to pull my hair out, or scream, or Pete will do something that just pushes me right over the edge and I just want to rage.” Natalie continued, arms waving dramatically. “I want to throw in the towel, take the easy way out, rage, drink myself silly, scream at all of them until I feel better, but you know what? You know what I don’t do? I don’t do that.” 

Natalie crossed her arms, taking a breath to steady herself. “I don’t do that to them because I know how that feels.” Her voice cracked, just barely, enough to show the emotion that was hiding underneath. “I know how that felt. I know how that made me feel.” 

Carmen could feel his eyes brimming with tears again, too emotional to be embarrassed. Donna’s many red faced, slurred screaming tyrades came back to his mind. How he’d hide, try and stay quiet and invisible to avoid them. Even as he got older. 

“I know how that fucked me up. How it fucked them up. How it fucked you up, an-and Mikey up. I mean- how it…it fucked our whole life up!” Sugar laughed humorlessly, throwing her hands up in mock defeat. “I just… When I think about that, and about how it just ruined all of us. That’s the last thing, the very last thing, I’d ever want to do to my kids, to Pete, t-to anyone, really.” 

Carmen nodded, too overwhelmed with emotions to speak. His throat burned, scratchy and sore from screaming and crying. His chest was tight, constricting his lungs, stealing his breath. He was on the verge of an anxiety attack, maybe something worse, yet, he felt eerily calm in the moment. Still even under the shame and hurt her words brought. He sat on the porch, sure his knees would give out soon, head spinning and dizzy with this damning realization. 

 “You need to make up your mind. Make a decision, right here, right now.” Sugar continued behind him. Though he couldn’t see her, he knew her face was stoic to hide the hurt, hide the emotions. A classic Berzatto deflection trait. “You need to decide what you’re going to do to be better for your family. If you’re going to continue to be a selfish, piece of shit, or if you’re going to change; be better.” 

Carmen’s shoulders shuddered with his next breath, deep but not intentional; like he didn’t even know he did it. Too dazed and deep in thought, staring blankly ahead. “I can tell you,” Sugar stepped towards the door. “It’s not comfortable. It’s not easy. It is so hard some days. You have to fight for it every day, fight to break shit that was drilled into you, fight to recognize that some things you do, you don’t even mean to. It takes a lot of work, but… I’d rather fight every single day to be better, to be kinder and softer and more understanding for my family, than to not have them at all.” 

Carmen couldn’t stop thinking of you. How you were so naturally nurturing and sweet. You’d always been like that. You were loving and gentle freely. You’d always been so patient with him. It almost made him feel insecure, inferior, when he thought of it before, but now, he just wanted to return the favor. 

“You decide what you want to do, and then maybe- maybe you’ll get to see them again.” Sugar turned the door knob, pushing it open. “But today? Not a chance. Go get yourself together before you try and do this again.” Carmen flinched at the door slamming behind her, harder than he thought it would. Still, he didn’t move from his spot on the porch, head in his hands, deep in thought about his future, his past, everything. 

“There he is!” Fak’s voice was muffled through the car window, slowly pulling to a stop in Sugar and Pete’s driveway. 

Carmen looked up slowly, taking a slow, grounding exhale in, just as Richie and Fak climbed out of the car. “Cousin, thank fuckin’- You better be glad he’s here.” Richie glared at Fak. 

“I am!” Fak chirped defensively. 

Carmen stood slowly, turning one last time to look at the front door. He couldn’t see through the small privacy glass on the door, but he swore he could hear you- hear your voice. Soft and hushed, a little cautious mixing with Sugar’s reassuring one. It took everything in him not to turn and bust the door down, run inside and throw himself at your feet, begging for forgiveness. 

He knew that time would come. 

Instead, he walked to the car, sliding in the backseat, ignoring the confused looks Richie and Fak gave each other. “So, uh, did you-” 

“-Don’t ask that.” Richie cut off Fak with a bark of annoyance. “What’s the matter with you?” 

“Nothing! I just- I thought we all wanted to know-” 

“-Hey, Cousin,” Carmen muttered, staring blankly at the house. Richie hummed, turning to Carmen carefully. “What’s, uh… You-You said you had someone for me to talk to?” 

“Yeah,” Richie nodded slowly. “The therapist?” 

Carmen paused, swallowing slowly. “You…You think she’d see me now?” 

“Right now?” Richie lifted a brow. Carmen nodded slowly, still looking past him, eyes glued on the house. He swore he could see a figure move- your figure, peeking through the blinds before ducking back into the shadows. “Yeah, I’m sure she will. I can… I can call her. See what I can do.” 

“Thanks.” Carmen twisted his wedding band gently, the car jolting gently as Fak started to back out. 

Fak turned around, looking from the back window to Carmen with a hesitant grimace. “You ok?” He asked, his voice dropped to a low hush with Richie on the phone beside him. 

“No,” Carmen admitted, shoulders slumping in defeat. “No, I-I’m not, but… I wanna be.” Carmen looked at Fak, eyes glassy with emotion. “I gotta get my shit together. Gotta do better f-for my family.” 

Fak nodded slowly, pulling out onto the road, slowly shifting the gears back into place. The car began to roll, Carmen watching Sugar and Pete’s house disappear in the rearview. His heart tore, ripped right down the middle and split at the seams knowing he was leaving you, Teddy- his family behind. It took everything, every ounce of strength not to turn around, not to run back. It hurt, but he realized, this is what Sugar was talking about. 

So, Carmen went to the other side of town, to the small building where Richie’s therapist was. His counselor he’d started seeing a while back, when he was on his purpose journey. 

It was weird, weirder than Al-Anon. Carmen felt entirely too vulnerable sitting in that chair, having her stare at him and only him, nodding as he told his ‘story’- it felt weird to call it that. He didn’t want it to be his story, his defining qualities. No, Carmen wanted a new story, a better one with you and Teddy and his family. He’d told Dr. Mullins that. 

“I think that’s a great start, Carmen.” She nodded, giving him a soft smile. “So, tell me how you’d do that.” 

Carmen scoffed lightly, looking down at his hands. “I, uh, I don’t really know.” He admitted. “Kinda thought that’s what you were for.” 

“You’re right. I’m here to help you reach that goal, maintain it.” She nodded. “But in order to do that, I need to know a little more.” 

“Like what?” Carmen muttered. “I don’t really remember my dad and all the bad shi-stuff he’d do.” 

“You said you didn’t want that to define you, so let’s not talk about that.” She shook her head softly. “Let’s focus on what you want. What kind of life you’d want to live with your family.” 

Carmen’s knee bounced, taking a shaky breath. “I… I don’t want to lose control.” He admitted. “I don’t want t-to scream, and say shit I don’t mean, and-and to take it out on people who don’t deserve it.” He looked up at her. “I don’t want to do that again.” 

“Good.” Dr. Mullins nodded slowly. “Let’s start there.” 

[ikeuki]

is riki in the room with us . . . ? / 니키

( pairing ) nishimura riki x fem!reader ✶ grumpy x sunshine ; fluff/crack, light cursing + idiot-icy — ( wordcount ) 1.1k

ᯓ★ ikueki’s note. he’s sooooo ‘smh’ it hurts ; riki trying to act cool & failing + making a fool out of himself pt.1 !

synopsis. introducing riki’s new seatpartner: you! this is either the best or worst decision you’ve ever made.

“oh ms. y/l/n! i thought you were transferring next week?” the teacher spoke.

“oh i apologize, my counselor decided to move me today, so i would not miss any more material than necessary.” you replied with such sweetness. you were apologizing for a ‘mistake’ that wasn’t even your fault.

all of the students, girls and boys, stared in awe at your almost gleaming presence. “well no worries—for the better if anything! why don’t you go sit down in any empty seat,” the teacher continued, gesturing to the class.

you bowed and scanned the room for an empty seat. there was one by the front of the class, but felt uncomfortable with feeling pressured to raise your hand for every question. especially when there was an obviously smart looking kid sitting in the seat beside it—meaning you would be constantly competing with him for #1.

so you settled for the other one in the back, next to some sleeping kid. all the students’ eyes fell upon you as you made your way to the back row. they all knew your name, your face, everything!

not only were you ranked second of the entire school (first being yang jungwon), you were known to be the school sweetheart. always helping other students study, participating in volunteer work, a member of student council, and on both the tennis and volleyball team.

your résumé was quite impressive. not to mention in the social surroundings as well. every boy wanted to go out with you and every girl wanted to be your friend. there was just a special bubble you seemed to be in that everyone wanted to join!

click. clack. click.

riki’s mind was playing tricks on him, replaying the little clicks your heels made in that gym last friday. but just then the prominent vanilla scent flooded his senses.

he lifted his head, taking a deep breath and losing his head for possible scare methods. until he was met with a familiar yet unfamiliar face.

you didn’t even notice that your unknown seat partner had woken up, too focused on taking notes. riki observed your neatly arranged desk. your pastel colored pencil case at the top, with two notebooks laid out in front of you. the math textbook was next to those and you were writing at the speed of light. in the most neatest handwriting riki had ever seen!

to be fair, he’s only ever seen heeseung and jake’s writing which were not much to compare to.

his eyes slowly wandered from your organized desk to your sparkly gel pen writing formula after formula. he soon found himself admiring looking directly into your eyes, realizing he was caught staring.

“can i help you?” you whispered, staring straight back at the frozen boy.

riki was speechless for the first time ever. no snarky comments or insults. no eye rolls or scoffs.

he was star-struck.

you titled your head to the side, smiling. you noticed a faint rosy blush on his cheeks as he looked at you with wide eyes. the tension could’ve been cut with a knife, so you took the chance to do it first.

“oh! actually i wanted to thank you!” you exclaimed and bent down to your backpack, rummaging through the bag.

“thank me?” riki finally spoke, narrowing his eyebrows. he sat up straight, facing you with his entire body and completely disregarding the teacher’s lecture in the front of the class.

you popped back up and turned to him with your school id in hand. “i listened to your advice and smiled ‘like i always do’” you put air quotes around riki’s words from the gym.

riki leaned in slightly to look at the little plastic card on your shared desk. you had such a natural yet cheery smile that almost put one on his face from just looking at it. but he stopped himself.

instead he looked up to see your face, inches away from his.

your attractive scent filled his senses and he could see the little sparkles decorating your eyelids. his eyes naturally trailed from your brightly-lit eyes to your rosy cheeks and down to your freshly glossed lips. as if on cue, your lips curled into a small smile and he found himself entranced.

flustered, he quickly cleared his throat and pulled back. he acted like there was something terribly wrong with his throat. just then, he did actually start choking a bit. enough for the entire class to go silent and turn back to yours and riki’s desks.

“mr. nishimura? are you alright back there?” the teacher asked, clearly unamused at the boy who always sleeps in class.

“are you okay? do you want some water?” you subconsciously put a hand on his arm in order to get his attention.

which you certainly did…!

riki froze and looked down at your hand.

your hand. on his arm.

he immediately stopped “choking” and awkwardly realized the entire class watching him. “oh…n-no i’m okay.” smooth.

“good.” the teacher replied coldly and returned to the lesson.

“are you sure?” you inquired yet again, your hand remaining in place.

what the hell was wrong with him? why did he feel sweaty and weird? why couldn’t he think? why was he stuttering like an idiot in front of you, trying to think of an answer?

more importantly, why did he care?

he blinked back his honest thoughts and shielded them with his cool-guy persona once again.

“yeah. i’m fine.” he brushed off, a little colder than he wanted.

you withdrew your hand. the corners of your lips faltering a little at his harsh tone. if there was one thing you knew, it was to know when you were not wanted. riki noticed the slight change in your face though, you didn’t want to show your hurt expression but he could tell from your eyes that you didn’t expect his reaction.

however, riki continued with his tough-guy act. he folded his arms and slumped back in his chair, acting as if he didn’t have a care in the world. when in all honesty, he did care. he cared a lot—about what you thought for some weird reason.

you took his response as a sign to cut the conversation short “anyways, i owe you one with the whole picture thing,” you whispered and retracted the school id. riki’s eyes betrayed his actions though, following your adorable id picture all the way to your pencil pouch and you zipping it up in there.

you simply returned to your note-taking as if your interaction didn’t just completely obliterate riki’s world. your eyes stayed on the blackboard ahead the rest of class, not even sparing a little glance to your seat partner. riki peeled his eyes off you and forced himself to stare out the window.

what was he looking at? nothing. absolutely nothing.

he just tried to think about something. anything!

but the clouds began floating together to form mushy hearts. birds flew by, four pairs of two all resting on a tree branch by couple. and what was that now? a rainbow?!

god, it must be the sleep deprivation kicking in, riki thought.

riki thought wrong.

[yueying-notyingyue]

waking up with seventeen

Seungcheol

obv the person who wakes up later than you

His hand rests gently across your waist all night, in a way that connects both your bodies until people that witness both of you would think you two are connected

His ass definitely has the energy to pull you back to bed if he finds out that you’re getting out of bed

Demands a morning kiss from you (with his stinky breath, he’s going to sulk if you don’t)

Such a clingy guy 

The first lights of the day seeped into your shared bedroom anchoring themselves onto your lover’s face, with each ray caressing his well-defined cheekbones. After acknowledging debating to get out of the current situation you’re in, you struggled out of his grasp (for at least 15 minutes) before throwing the fluffy blankets off. Sleepy eyelids fluttering open, his mouth tumbled out a few incoherent words before ultimately deciding it was more effective to tug you back into the embrace of his arms. Eyes big and lips pouting, you knew what he meant, his morning kisses. Breath stinky and all, he knew how to use his face to his advantage. Leaning down from the awkward position he put you in, you quickly placed a quick peck on his cheek before demanding him to get up for your morning walk. 

“But princess! It’s too early!” >:(

Jeonghan

Someone who would probably wakes up the same time as you

You see hannie’s a light sleeper I feel that the moment he feels you attempting to sit up he’s already looking up at you, eyes begging you to lie back down with him

Definitely lays down near to your chest listening to your heartbeat when you both get ready to sleep

 when you guys wake up his head is still firmly attached to your chest, looking up at you with hazy eyes clouded with sleep

“Hannie we’ve got to wake up!” Although you’ve been whining for the umpteenth time, you didn’t dare to move an inch. Scared to shock him awake from his constant drifting in and out of sleep state, you resorted to slowly stroking his hair, that’ll surely wake him up right? Wrong. You both fell back asleep until midday. The blazing sun rays glared across the room, the burning sun rays making his hair seem ever so elegant. The tranquil quietness that hung in the atmosphere was broken once a call reverberated across the room. This was the fifth time this month that he was late to his dance practice. As he reluctantly pulls away, his sleepy ass has to hear your nagging about how half your day is gone while chiding him about being late. Smug grin plastered across his face; he doesn’t mind at all. After all, he had a restful sleep and much of your attention. 

“But angel,” he whined indignantly while burying his face into his shoulder “it was so comfy getting to cuddle with you!”

Joshua

Someone who makes it a point to wake up early to go jogging and ensure half his day isn’t wasted

You see shua’s presence is like the early morning’s sun that shines through the window

I bet his embrace is so warm like going for a swim early in the morning and when you get out of the pool, the temperature is just right, not too cold not too scalding hot

I need someone like shua to hug me, i bet it’ll solve all my problems :(

Morning kisses are a habit you developed early in your relationship with him. So, whenever you guys have the chance to cuddle throughout the night, shua wakes you up by pecking your face. 

Ticklish, I know.

 But he’s someone who would love to disturb you for fun (in a loving way ofc). 

This sweet baby would wake up early to train his body and to make breakfast for the two of you. 

Nuzzling your face into his chest, his arms instinctively wrapped around your lower back, rubbing slow circles. A loose white t-shirt hanging off his body with a towel wrapped around his neck, he had just come back from his morning run and showered. The slow hum of the coffee machine added to the comfortable silence enveloping the two of you as he made breakfast. The slow morning coupled with the constant assurance that he wasn’t going anywhere made you ease up. It was so long since you last spent time together, you were not budging a single bit from his side so he resorted to lifting you up onto the kitchen counter (cliche ik) while pecking your face and see it scrunch up in pure delight, it had to be one of his favourite sights of you. The warm morning sun doing glory to your face. 

“Darling calm down!” He giggled exasperatedly while pecking your face in between his speech “I’m not going anywhere calm down!”

Jun

Oh this sweet boy :(

He would be so eepy in the morning because both of you would take ages to get into a comfortable position to sleep

Furthermore, he is a member of the performance team, their dance practices diving deep into the night when everyone is asleep

You would have to wait for him to come home and do your night routine before finally tucking in and drifting off

The next day both of you would wake up real late past midday while practically clinging onto each other for dear life 

I feel that he would wake up later than you due to exhaustion, hence you would have to make breakfast (or lunch) before he wakes up

Clingy baby pt2 

“Umphhh” a sudden weight collapsed onto your shoulder, two long arms finding home by latching themselves onto your waist. A mess of hair tickling your neck as he nuzzled his face into your neck and pressed loving kisses against your shoulder blade. The height distance was gigantic, making him bend down awkwardly all the while trying to make himself feel comfortable. Giggling quietly, you nudged him to go sit down at the dining table so that he would feel more at rest. However, this sleepyhead would absolutely refuse to do so, insisting that the awkward position feels comfortable even though his neck aches really bad :( He insists that staying beside you was worth the ache in his neck. When he comes back from another taxing day, you would have to make it up to him by massaging his neck and back before repeating the same routine before the weekend finally comes around.

“Baby it's worth it I promise!” He whined while looking down at you, not listening to whatever you have to say as he makes his way back to your shoulder in refuge.

Hoshi

I’m pretty sure Hoshi jolts bolts of energy 24/7

Except on the days he comes back looking for refuge after a particularly draining day of never-ending dance practices

However, after a good night’s rest, he seems to have almost recharged completely

Waking up once the day’s first sun rays hit his eyelids, he practically bounces onto you while pecking your face in an attempt to wake you up

You would practically beg him for another 5 minutes of rest even though he would be bugging you throughout your well-deserved rest.

Clingy baby pt3

“Soonyoung you’ve got to stop waking me up!” you whined in your sleep, attempting to cover your ears with a pillow. However, Soonyoung being much much (MUCH) muscular than you, you’d find your pillow getting aggressively launched to the other side of the room while Soonyoung practically dives onto your body, nuzzling his cheek against your own. Seeing your boyfriend being in such peace and happiness made you realise. Oh, how much he loves you. Anyways, who are you to reject his cuddles when he looks this cute. Blankets tossed aside and some pillows getting absolutely thrashed onto the cold and hard floor, you shivered as the cold air caresses your skin, goosebumps instantly forming all over your skin. The warmth radiating for Soonyoung’s body was enough to warm you up enough though. Or was it? “Cutie.” The pet name rolls off his tongue like it was ever so casual, “it’s already seven in the morning! I’ve let you sleep in for an hour today!” Whining while trying to elbow him, he managed to tickle you awake. Your eyelids instantly opened up, shooting a menacing glare at him, Soonyoung teased, “Oh there she is, my baby tiger!”

Wonwoo

Both of you definitely wake up at 3pm

If he didn’t have any dance practices the previous day, he would have been gaming until the wee hours of the morning.

You would either be situated in bed, at your desk, or on his lap waiting for him to grow tired so that the both of you can fall asleep together

Sometimes, when you get too tired, you would practically try and drag him to bed, begging him to cuddle you

I think wonu wakes up later than you cause he sleeps so damn late 

you would have to cook lunch for him

You wouldn’t want your baby to become hungry, would you?

Voice laced with thickness, it was another morning afternoon where you tried not to burn down the house by cooking a simple dish that hopefully wouldn’t be too overwhelming to eat. Wonwoo was sitting down at the dining table, arms supporting his head by leaning his elbows on the table, his gaze following your every movement. As you opened the cupboard overhead, you realised one of the sauces you needed to make your food with was too high up. Jumping up and trying to grab it, Wonwoo laughed at your miserable attempt to reach it. Chuckling deeply, he walked towards your direction while wrapping his hand around your waist. Pressing a peck to the crown of your head, he rubbed the pad of his thumb on your bare skin, his other hand shooting up to grab the sauce bottle. Gently placing it down on the counter, he trapped you in between his body and the counter while kissing you firmly on your lips. Hands gripping your waist tightly, he was about to press another kiss to your temple when you smelt burnt food. Turning your attention to the food which has been on high heat for the past few minutes, you quickly reached over to turn off the stove. Glaring playfully at him, he could only chuckle in guilt. “The food’s burnt Wonwoo.” >:(

“It’s ok I can make us some cup noodles.”

Woozi

I feel that woozi goes to bed late at night

Or just pulls an all nighter in his studio

You would have like late night dates in his studio (it’s canon)

So once both of you return home and go to sleep it’ll be so late

I feel that woozi will wake up earlier than you

He would definitely go to the gym to work out early in the morning

When he comes back you would already be awake, lazing in bed

Both of you would have a playlist playing in the background while enjoying each other’s presence

The fan overhead circulated the air around the bedroom. Windows and curtains closed, the only sound you could hear in the room was the quiet humming of the ceiling fan. Whistling a tune, Jihoon pulled the curtains open, the bright rays of light seeping into the bedroom. Your boyfriend standing in the bright gaze of the sun, shirtless with a towel hanging across shoulders, made him seem much more ethereal than usual. Turning around with a cup of coffee in hand, he catches you staring shamelessly at him. Scoffing a bit, he sits on the edge of the bed beside you while handing you the cup. Accepting the cup of coffee, you place the cup on your cheek, soaking the warmth of it. Reaching out for his phone, he connects your speaker and opens spotify before playing your morning playlist. Leaning against him for support and warmth, the both of you enjoy your slow morning with songs playing one after the other. Jihoon thinks that it was a good investment to get spotify premium, enjoying your quiet presence beside him made him realise. Oh he wants this for the rest of his life. Experiencing each morning with you by his side.

“Darling,” he hums out, turning his face to face yours. The lovesick look that hung in his eyes made butterflies erupt in your stomach. “Yea?” “I just wanted to let you know you look ever so beautiful.” (SOMEONE GET ME A JIHOON RN 👹)

Minghao

wakes up once the sun comes out

Probably in another room drinking tea and shit

(maybe) meditating 

Growing up in an chinese household i’ve seen my neighbours and relatives do 太極拳 (tai ji quan) like before the sun comes out

(Doing it in school during morning assembly makes me shiver in my microscopic boots frfr)

Bro would probably play the routine songs while doing it since he’s a dancer yk

So when you wake up, Minghao probably waits for you at the living room, two cups of hot steaming tea in the ceramic pot while he does his morning stretches

Forces you into doing it with him tho

The artificial birds chirping and the creek flowing sound blasted through the speakers. It resounded across the whole house, lifting you out of your sleep. Swinging your legs off the side of the bed, you opened the windows, basking in the morning air before packing up the bed. Making your way out of your shared bedroom, you caught sight of your lover doing his routine of stretching and tai ji. Sitting in front of the coffee table, you reached out to the teapot before pouring yourself a cup of green tea. Your presence made Minghao turn his gaze to you before whispering a small “good morning”. You returned the gesture by nodding your head. 

“So darling, what would you like for breakfast?”

Mingyu

Another big baby :(

Clingy baby alert! (pt4 i think)

Has both his hands wrapped around your waist and refuses to let go even when you want to visit the washroom

Clingy baby wakes up later than you

I think he said in an interview (with jaeseok and seokjin) that he usually wakes up at 3 to 4 pm

Clings onto you when you’re doing your morning routine 

If he is still tired and feeling incredibly clingy that day he would be like cheol and pull you back to bed and trap you in his embrace

“Gyu you’ve got to let go.” Shooting him a nasty look, he finally obeys before releasing you to go to the toilet. He would lay down on your side of the bed (as if he isn’t situated there the whole night) and act like a sick Victorian child. He would repeatedly call out your name and ask you where you are to which you would reply “Kim Mingyu are you going to let me pee in peace?” TT. Once you finally make your way back to the bed, you would refuse to talk to him (as a joke) and ignore his persistent questions of “What took you so long :(“ Please protect this big baby at all costs. He’s so whiny and clingy, it’s so adorable. You reached out to the bedside table to grab your phone from the charger but before you could even reach it, your boyfriend already reached out to your arm and pulled you back to the bed where he would keep you in his embrace for the next hour.

“Baby are you going to leave me like this, cold, loney..” He rambles on and on about how you’ve left him alone :( “But Mingyu I need to pee!” (sobbing sounds continue)

Dokyeom

Another baby who would wake up earlier than you

So so so energetic (I can’t stress this enough)

He would probably pounce on you to wake you up

Peppering your face with numerous kisses

He would tickle you awake

If you don’t wake up by his tickles you would wake up by his singing at 8 am in the morning 

Broski is probably having a 1 hour session singing in the bathroom

You’d probably have noise complaints from the neighbours lmao

I bet 100% that he’s going to sing the symphony dolphin meme just to annoy you 

No but this baby wouldn’t want to disturb your sleep 

He’s such a softie :(

Waking up to the sound of water splashing (100% real not creek flowing music) you hear your boyfriend singing his heart out to his spotify playlist in the bathroom. Not that you’re complaining though. The voice of his makes your heart melt at his sincerity of being an idol. The music comes to an end and a few seconds later, you hear the water stop flowing before the bathroom door creaks open. You make eye contact with your boyfriend who is currently drying his hair with a small towel. He grins at you before continuing with his next song while choosing what to wear. Seriously, is this sunshine ever going to stop singing?

“Baby~” Dokyeom sing-songs before holding up an outfit he chose. “Should I wear this today?”

Seungkwan

Oh this dramatic diva >:D

He would wake up once his alarm clock rings

He would then spend like the next hour in the bathroom doing his thing before going to the kitchen and grabbing a cooling face mask

By the time you wake up, he must have come back from his morning run

You would find him in the kitchen drinking his iced americano and taking his health supplements

Would probably side eye you and nag you on why you shouldn’t sleep in for too long

“I’ve told you so many times!” Seungkwan whined while clinging onto your shoulder. “It’s not good to sleep in! You should have gone to bed earlier!” Ignoring the poor boy’s constant nagging, you tried to go back to sleep on the bed. You would see him pick up his karaoke machine’s mic and start pouring out his heart and soul into a wonder girl’s song. That should wake you up enough before you pounce on him and ask him to shut up for your sanity. He’s going to dodge all your attacks before trapping you in his embrace and shooing you away to take your supplements.

“I want nobody, nobody but you” (obnoxious clapping sounds) “I want nobody, nobody but you” “Boo Seungkwan if you don’t shut up in the next one minute, I’m going to throw you outside the house.” (你给我滚出去 reference)

Vernon

Oh this guy and his sleeping habits

He has such a laid back vibe and i’m here for it

You guys probably watch those funny cat videos compilation series on youtube in the morning

Or maybe both of you would be on twitter or tiktok and you would send each other funny videos or memes

Both of you too lazy to get up

The only time both of you get up is when either one of you need to use the washroom

I feel that vernon would wake up slightly later than you

both of you guys taking your morning slow

“Nonie?” You tugged the sleeve of his shirt trying to gain his attention. Turning around to meet your gaze, he instinctively raised an eyebrow before you showed him the funny video you found on TikTok. Gently grabbing the phone out of your hand, he looked at the video with mild amusement before returning it to you. “Too late, I've already seen it.” He smirks before laughing his heart out. You can only smack him out of playful annoyance and irritation, trying to get that stupid grin out of his face. “But it is funny!” You whined, bottom lip jutting out as you bury your face into the crook of his neck.

“I’m sorry babe, it’s just so amusing to see you getting worked up!”

Chan

Oh my precious baby :(

He’s so so so so so pocket sized and tiny D:

Since he is also part of the performance team (4/4) 

I can totally see him sleeping until after midday

When he does wake up, you would be in the kitchen preparing food for him to eat and regain his energy

Most likely cause he didn’t have much energy to eat dinner last night

He would wake up and make his way to you, back hugging you as you focus your attention on not burning the food

He would insist that he wants to help you cook the food but you would refuse bc how can you let your baby work when he is so tired

Shooing him away to the dining table but he wouldn’t budge since he is also another clingy baby (pt5 if i remember correctly)

Arms wrapped around your torso and head buried in your neck, he would just stay there, basking happily in the moment

“Channie, go and sit at the dining table. The food is almost done!” You nudged him, giving him the assurance that you weren’t going anywhere. However, this clingy baby would not leave your side even for a second. You guessed that his training last night must have taken a toll on his body as you noticed him burying his head even deeper into your shoulder, sniffling your neck as his grip on your torso got even tighter. “Why move to the dining table if you aren’t there with me!” He whined gripping you even tighter, you weren’t sure if you were able to breathe anymore due to the fact that he had been working out a lot more recently. You could only chuckle in amusement as you plated the food and walked towards the dining table to put the plates down. Sitting down on the long bench. Chan refused to sit at the opposite side, deciding that sitting beside you (or lying half of his body on you) was the better option. You had no choice but to baby him, feeding him his bread and letting him sip on his water. Chan could only look up at you with his half opened droopy eyes, looking at you with the most lovesick gaze.

“I love you so much you know, right?” :( 

“I know Channie, this has been the fifth time you have said it in the last 5 minutes.” You state while brushing his fringe back, wiping the beads of sweat off his forehead.