Tumgik
#i really hope it helps though baby has been dealing with this for ages
kyunzin · 2 months
Text
𝐈’𝐦 𝐬𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲
Tumblr media
character; 𝐁. 𝐊𝐨𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐮
cw; he’s so desperate to be inside of you that he humps your backside like a bitch in heat (gn!reader)
tags; somnophilia, dry humping, raw sex, cum eating, mating press, use of baby/ love (to reader)
a/n; I like my new layout it’s kinda cute but it takes ages to do
Tumblr media
it’s not his fault that he wakes up and his cock if full in his underwear. he really tries to wait it out hoping it will go down with no attention needed but to his misfortune his need to relieve himself only grows stronger with every passing second.
he knows not awake you as its too early for you to be up and from the steady raise of your chest next to him he can tell you’re in a deep sleep. he doesn’t want to get up and deal with it himself but he also doesn’t want to stay like this and he knows you won’t mind if he uses you to ease himself.
it’s an easy task rolling you over to your side as you sleep unaware of his problems, propping himself directly behind you. the sigh of slight relief he lets out when his cock presses against the groove of your ass is enough to cause you to stir but not enough for you to wake up.
his arm wraps around you and you instinctively lean back into his touch pressing his cock further into your ass the pressure creating a pleasurable sensation to him almost making him moan out loud but he catches himself quickly.
with the both of you in a steady position he starts to grind his cock into the groove of you’re ass at a slow pace, pressing his head into the back of your inhaling you’re scent as he rocks his hips into you. the stimulation to his cock has precum spilling out the tip of his dick which is sure to stain the fabric of his underwear creating a wet patch.
at first the slow drag of his hips is enough to satisfy him but it soon isnt enough for him and he reaches for his underwear pulling it down to rest under his balls letting it hang free between the two of you before resuming his previous actions. the feel of your soft underwear rubbing against he raw cock has him shuddering in pleasure a low moan “shit, feels so fucking good” falling from his mouth his hips rutting into you quicker than before.
with the way his hips rut against yours, the fabric of your underwear is enough to have him lose control of himself letting out a string of “oh f-fuck, fuck, fuck!” into the back of your neck, pressing kisses to your shoulder and neck while he roughly ruts into your backside, causing the bed to subtly shake with him.
it’s only now that you start to wake up due to the volume of his moans though you’re barely awake to register what’s happening and by the time you catch on to what he’s doing he’s already cumming hard body shaking, his grip on you tightening but not enough to bruise as ropes of his cum spill onto your lower back and underwear. you can hear him letting out apologetic chants of “m’ sorry, couldn’t help it. m’ so sorry fuck, I’ll clean you up baby, I promise”
having been together for so long means you know that cumming once won’t be enough for him. so when he rolls you over onto your stomach and pulls down your underwear, it’s no surprise when he easily slips his cock into you with a sharp thrust accompanied with an apology of “I’m sorry. promise I’ll be done after this baby, you don’t have to do anything, please can I?”. he ask as if he isn’t already sinking into you.
the only reason he’s able to slip in with ease is because he had spent the night before fucking you raw for hours. after coming home from his match with a lot of unreleased energy. usually he would be worn out after a match but today was different because his team had won the match quicker than expected.
he had spent his time fucking you in multiple positions but ended with you in a mating press, your legs held behind your ears with him pumping you full of his cum alongside the other loads he had shot into earlier watching as your stomach inflated.
when he was done with that he spent some time eating out your cum and kissing it back into your mouth for you to swallow, repeating the process until he was sure that he had cleaned you out watching as your hole gaped at him smiling stupidly at his work.
he wastes no time in pushing bulldozing his cock into your stretched heat watching the way you swallow him all the way to the hilt as he hits your sweet spot with every hard drive of his hips. you find it endearing how he lets out little rambles of “m’ so fucking sorry, didn’t want to wake you, oh god. does it feel good for you baby? fuck it feels real f-fucking good, keep sucking in my cock like this and I won’t last long”
the feel of your walls pulsating around him as well the sound of your voice as you cum sending him over edge, one of his hands griping the headboard in front of you catching himself as he lean over you his hips lower half resting on you as he shoots his thick load into you once again.
once he knows he finished he pulls out first licking the drying cum of your back then quickly and flips you over with care looking at your inflated stomach and fucked out face bending your legs down to your ears so that he can suck the cum out of your puffy hole swallowing it himself instead of feeding it to you.
when he’s sure that he’s cleaned you out properly he finds a clean pair of underwear and slips it on you effortlessly, tucking you back into bed watching as you seamlessly fall back asleep. finally feeling satisfied he changes his underwear for a clean pair as well and makes his way into the kitchen to start breakfast for the two of you with a stupid smile on his face.
Tumblr media
𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
@tyunixia @riowmie
576 notes · View notes
ariachaos · 23 days
Note
can you do single girl dad headcanons with baji who's daughter is js like him but she's really really smart like honor role since elementary school smart
oh, the irony....
reader is fem! reader
ᵍᵉⁿⁱᵘˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵈᵘᵐᵇᵉˢᵗ !!
Tumblr media
being baji's daughter includes...
everyone and their grandmother knows how much of an idiot this man is.
he can't even spell tiger to save his life, please help him.
how he's raising you without accidentally neglecting you, no one knows. i guess he has good instincts on keeping something alive?
considering how he's a cat magnet, i guess he has a good sense of what a living being needs to survive, but i don't know how he managed changing diapers and managing your hygiene. (definitely panicked a few times and called chifuyu and tora to help him.)
hates it when people think he's a creep for being a single dad because there's plenty of single moms out there, his own mother was a single mom, what the hell is wrong with being a single dad?
resists the urge to punt someone the moon when they ask if your dad is scary to you, but nearly hollers in laughter when you start looking at the stranger all weird.
you literally look up and down at them, side-eye them, look at your dad as if he's hearing what you're hearing, and answer that your dad is literally the least scary man you've seen in your life.
he's the most unserious person in your life, even with his resting face because you've been dealing with that face since day 1.
it's funny how people think babies think their dad is scary just by appearance, when the man himself is probably the biggest sweetheart on earth.
dwayne the rock johnson is one buff man built like a mountain, but i'm pretty sure his kids love him to the sun and back, like wym scary? these kids lived with that face their entire life????
gordon ramsay is scary, too, but his kids love him to the point they pull the most ridiculous pranks on him without regret, so what makes people think baji is scary to you???? i dunno.
anyway, this is baji we're talking about, so he probably forgets that people looked at him weird the next minute and spends the rest of the day spoiling you instead.
contrary to what people may think, he's actually a very quiet dad. doesn't really talk a whole lot and prefers raising you in peace and quiet with a few cats around the house. however, it's quite obvious how much he loves you from the countless framed photos of you he decorated the house with.
the entire house is a shrine dedicated to you, and honestly, no one can blame him.
though his friends have definitely questioned whether baji is really your dad because you're really smart for your age compared to what baji was...
he fumbles so much when he's trying to help you with homework because he never thought he would have to look at a math equation ever again after graduating high school. had to send you to cram school so you could get proper help with homework, and he kinda feels bad about it.
let's you teach him instead when you get home, but half the things you say fly over his head.
the only time he's actively loud is when he's sleeping. because he snores.
i hope you grow up to be a deep sleeper because he's not going to stop sounding a bulldozer going to war with a thousand other bulldozers any time soon.
the worst part is that he coddles you in his sleep. will bear hug you and not let go. so you've just grown up with the sound of a warzone as a lullaby since you didn't have much of a choice.
it's very touching that baji doesn't get mad at you very easily.
people might think he'd lash out at you if you even look at him wrong, but no. you could kill a man, and he'll help you hide the body.
you could make a mess in the house, and he'll just teach you how to clean up after playing because he doesn't see the point in yelling. what are you going to learn from him if he just yells at you? anger issues? yeah, no thanks.
has taken you to the petshop many times and carries you around in the baby backpack thing. he prefers to have you on his chest and facing him though, since it's safer for you that way. sure, it might get in the way of working, but he doesn't care.
chifuyu and tora does help him take care of you a lot, though. if he's dealing with customers, they're often the ones carrying you around and making sure you're a happy baby.
they experienced many baby fevers because of you, it's not even funny.
never thought someone with baji's genetics would be so cute, but it happened.
all the toman captains know about you simply because baji brings you everywhere, talks about you all the time, shoves photos of you whenever he has the chance, and so on.
they're all collectively your uncles, but tora is your godfather bc of course he is.
mitsuya is your most common babysitter, though, since he has experience taking care of kids.
baji was so heartbroken when you said your first words when spending the day with mitsuya. you were saying "baba" and looking around the house for him while mitsuya was slightly cackling in the background.
got petty and didn't let mitsuya see you for a month after that.
Tumblr media
166 notes · View notes
munsonfamilyband · 1 year
Text
I’ve had a Different Meeting AU stuck in my head for ages and I’ve decided to share it
After Starcourt Steve can’t sleep. The nightmares and panic keeps him from getting sleep; if he’s lucky he gets an hour. After a week he’s falling apart and he suddenly remembers a piece of his past - he remembers smoking weed with Tommy H and sleeping like a baby. So he starts digging, ends up having to talk to people he never wanted to speak to again, but he finds out who to call.
Eddie Munson. The name is familiar, but the number isn’t. Steve calls Eddie and sets up a meeting the next day to buy some weed. When he drives to the meeting spot he walks through how he’s going to apologize for who he was. Steve is pretty sure he never did anything to Eddie but he wants to be safe rather than sorry. He gets out of his car and ambles through the woods to meet Eddie at a picnic table. Eddie Munson is sitting on the table, legs kicked out in front of him and leaning back on his elbows. Steve quickly averts his eyes from the tattoo he can see on Eddie’s stomach where his shirt has ridden up. He’s aware that he finds men attractive, has been since Jonathan beat him up in ‘83, but now is not the time. Eddie looks up when Steve steps into the clearing and smirks.
“You’re late, I was starting to think you were going to stand me up.”
“Uh, sorry, I got a little side tracked. But um, before we do this I wanted to say sorry…I guess? I’m not sure if I ever did anything to you in school, I’m pretty sure I didn’t but I wanted to apologize for being a dick anyway.” Eddie just blinks at him, grin gone, as he sits up fully while still sitting on the table.
“You’re….. sorry?”
“Yeah, man. I’m trying to be a better person, throw the whole ‘King Steve’ shit out, and I figured that apologizing to the guy I’m hoping will sell me weed is a good place to start, y’know?” Steve knows that there’s a flush crawling up his neck from the embarrassment, can feel it heating up his ears, but he can’t focus on that with Eddie Munson staring at him with his big eyes and wild, curly hair- nope, stopping that right now.
“Oh. Well, you didn’t do anything, I mean, your buddy, Tommy H, used to fuck with me until he started buying my shit. The guy’s almost feral but he isn’t stupid enough to piss off his dealer. So, I guess we’re good then?” Steve breathes out a sigh of relief, moving closer to the table to sit while Eddie climbs down to sit on the opposite side. “So, how do you want to do this?”
Steve clears his throat, glancing around a bit. Eddie probably assumes it’s from nerves around the deal, which is fine with Steve. He doesn’t need to know that Steve is still looking over his shoulder for Russians and flesh monsters. “Uh, look, man. I know you’re wondering about my face, and it has to do with why I’m looking to buy. I was at the mall when it…burned down.” Steve hears Eddie mumble something like ‘holy shit’ under his breath. “I got knocked over during the panic and got trampled,” Steve easily lies. The cover story had been repeated to him until he knew it just as well as the real events. “Ever since, I’ve been having a hard time sleeping and I know weed can help so I was looking to get some to help.” He can feel Eddie’s eyes on him, studying his face in a way that reminds him eerily of Nancy.
“I can totally get why you would need weed after that. But, no offense or anything, you seem way more nervous about this than normal.” Steve can’t help but sigh, of course the drug dealer can read him like a book.
“Yeah, I uh, I got drugged when I was at a club a little while ago. I guess I’m nervous about being high again, even though I need to sleep.” Steve meets Eddie’s eyes and watches a complicated series of emotions flash across the other man’s face before seeming to decide on something.
“Okay, I normally wouldn’t do this, but you really do seem to be trying to be better, and you’ve clearly been through a lot lately, so I’m going to make an offer and you can decline if you want, but I figured I would try.” Eddie takes a deep breath, Steve narrowly avoiding watching his cheat expand with it. “Because you’re nervous about this, I can waive the fee this time and bring the pot to smoke with you. So that you don’t have a bad trip, or whatever.” Steve freezes, thrown aback by the offer. After a moment he is able to voice a response.
“You would do that for me?”
“I mean, just because I deal drugs doesn’t mean I have no morals. It feels weird to sell you shit and then let you go off on your own knowing you had a traumatic experience.”
Steve, despite being stunned, manages a smile. “That- thank you, Eddie. That is- I appreciate it a lot.”
The quickly make a plan to meet up the next day at Steve’s house, and Steve offers to get food as payment.
This pattern continues for a month before Eddie’s friends convince him to try a move on Steve - who has been maybe flirting since they met - and the night ends with them making out on Eddie’s couch. They date happily for 6 months, laughing as they pretend to not know each other in front of the kids, until the first day of Spring Break Steve sees a trailer he spends more time at than his own house on the news. As soon of Dustin and Max show up, Steve is grabbing his keys and running to his car, knowing exactly where Eddie is hiding.
Steve never wanted his boyfriend to get involved with this part of his life, but there is no way he will leave him alone now that he is.
2K notes · View notes
floreads · 8 months
Text
baby blues • carmen berzatto x reader
Tumblr media
pair: carmen berzatto x fem!reader
synopsis: sugar's childhood best friend throws her baby shower, and is reintroduced to carmy.
a/n: while researching the character ages for this piece i discovered that nothing really makes sense timeline wise for the siblings’ ages, so just for the sake of this fic i decided that carmy is 28, reader is 29, and sugar is 31 <3 also i did not proof read this lmao so sry for any mistakes !
warnings: anxiety/panic attack, lots of swearing lmao, mentions of hooking up but nothing explicit, lmk if i missed anything else <3
word count: 3.2k
Tumblr media
"Okay - yo, be careful with the cake!" You run - or wobble, as quickly as your heels will let you - over to the dessert table, pulling your dress down as you go. Running the show in this outfit wasn’t the most comfortable, but you don’t have time to go home and change before the event is set to start. The venue staff wouldn’t let you come in any earlier than 1:00 PM to get everything ready, despite your numerous pleas. 
The two-tiered dessert wobbles slightly, as Richie and his colleague from the yet-unopened The Bear restaurant make the short but dangerous trek from the venue door to the row of long tables. 
"Relax, Y/N, we got it," Richie waves you away. "Marcus here is a professional." They place the cake slowly, but precisely, onto its display stand.  
"It's not him I'm worried about," you give him a playful squint. "Everything has to be perfect for Sugar. She deals with enough, having to see your ugly ol' mug every day." 
You turn away from him before he can fire back, and greet Marcus with a quick nod. "It's nice to finally meet you, Marcus. Beautiful work on the cake." 
He smiles back at you. "Of course, only the best for Sugar's baby."
That's all you wanted - the best for Sugar's baby. That's why you took it upon yourself to plan Sugar's baby shower. It's something you'd been planning basically your entire lives - ever since you two were old enough to steal your moms’ magazines during sleepovers. You two had planned your entire lives out together, and though the details have shifted over the years, there was one constant through it all: you’d always have each other.
Growing up, you and Sugar were virtually inseparable despite her being a few years older than you. Wherever one went, the other was soon to follow, like a shadow. You never really got along with your own parents, and as the only girl in her family, Natalie welcomed additional the feminine energy. Gone were the days of Mikey and Carmy ganging up on her when you were around. It was, and still is, you and Natalie against the world. 
You glance at your watch with an impatient sigh. 2:36 PM. You have less than half an hour before all of the guests arrive, and 54 minutes until Pete arrives with Sugar. You've been there for the last hour and a half getting everything ready for Sugar and her unborn baby, and yet there was one thing missing. Carmen Berzatto hasn't come with the food yet. 
"Does anyone know where the fuck Carmen is?" you ask, not to anyone in particular.
As if he was waiting for his cue, Carmy barrels through the door right then, breathing as if he’d just run the mile in gym class. Two women you have yet to meet, presumably from his restaurant that you’ve heard so much about, are right on his heels, helping him wheel in a cart full of food trays and serving utensils. 
“Fuckin’ finally. It’s nice of you to join us, Carmen.” You exaggeratedly throw your hands up, walking over to him. This was not the reunion you’d hoped for after not seeing Carmy in years, after what you’d dubbed the incident - one that not even Nat knows about. 
“Finally? We’re only,” he checks his watch, “ten minutes late.”
“Ten minutes?! Try an hour and ten minutes,” you scoff, looking at him incredulously. 
His eyes widen, and you are slightly taken aback by just how blue they are, though you don’t know how you could’ve forgotten. His face reddens and you aren’t sure if it’s because of the intensity of your gaze or his embarrassment at being late. Before you can think too much into it, he’s turning to look at Richie.
“What the fuck, Cousin, you told me she said 2:30.” 
Richie turns to you. “I thought that’s what you told me to say!”
The biggest sigh, possibly of all time, leaves your body and you cover your face. “No, Richie, I told you to tell him to be here by 1:30.” 
“You know, I seriously fuckin’ doubt you said that, but maybe next time you should just call him yourself.” Richie counters. 
“God fuckin’ forbid I accept help when you offer it! But don’t worry, I’ve learned my lesson, ya fuckin’ jagoff,” your teenage accent comes out for a second, as always ends up happening when you argue with Richie. 
Carmy, who knows the way you and Richie fight all too well after witnessing it through your teenage years, steps in between you two. “Alright, alright, it doesn’t fuckin’ matter who said what anymore. What matters is we’re here now and I need to set up this food ASAP.” He turns, giving you his full attention. “Y/N, where can we put this food?” 
You send Richie one final glare before turning and leading Carmy to two long tables at the front of the room. “You’ve got these tables right over here. The venue gave us some food warmers, I’m sure you can figure out how to set those up better than I can. Be fast, Berzatto, we’ve got less than an hour before Sugar gets here and if anything is out of place, I’ll kick your fuckin’ ass.”
“Heard, Red.” He gives you a curt nod and moves to grab one of the trays of food before pausing so slightly that you know no one noticed - no one but you. He recovers quickly though, and it’s as if nothing happened. 
Your pause, however, is much more notable. No one has called you Red since Mikey died. Though the nickname was just the result of an unfortunate at home, box hair dye job at 15 (you were experimenting with your look - they can’t all be winners, okay?), it solidified you as an unofficial member of the Berzatto clan. 
“U-um, I guess I’ll just leave you to it then,” you stammer out, busying your hands with your phone to hide their trembles. As if she can feel your discomfort, the girl with the long braids tucked into a scarf walks forward, between you and Carmy, and offers you her hand to shake.
“I’m Sydney, by the way, Carmy’s CDC at The Bear,” she smiles. “And this is Tina, my sous,” she gestures to the smaller, but older woman next to her. 
You take her hand and introduce yourself, mentally berating yourself for not introducing yourself earlier. It’s not like you to be so rude - the stress of planning and executing a surprise baby shower for your best friend paired with the unnerving feeling of seeing Carmy for the first time since Natalie’s wedding must be getting to you. It may not be your place, but you’re still a little mad at him for skipping out on Mikey’s funeral and dropping contact with you altogether.
“I’m sorry! I swear, I’m usually not this all over the place. This whole thing’s got me goin’ a little crazy,” you gesture around the room. “Y’know, I’ve been meanin’ to get over to The Bear - it’s all Sugar’s been able to talk about lately. Besides the baby, of course. I was outta town for friends and family night - visiting my grandparents.” This was a lie - if Carmy was going to ignore you, then you were going to ignore him. Though, you know you’ll end up in the establishment one of these days now that Sugar is so involved. 
“Well, I’m sure Carmy and Natalie would love to have you in one of these days.” 
Your eyes flit to Carmen while you give Sydney a tightlipped smile and nod. You try not to let the awkwardness between you and Carmy show when your eyes meet. While you’d normally make some snide remark about how Carmy doesn’t have room for you in his life anymore, you remind yourself that today is about Sugar - not whatever problems you have with her younger brother. 
You take a deep breath and clap your hands together, wearing the kind of artificial smile that only the cheerleading protagonist of an early aughts teen drama would give. “Maybe someday!” 
Sydney and Tina exchange a look that you pretend not to notice.
“Well, I’ll just leave you guys to it then! The guests will be here any minute, so I’m gonna do one last walkthrough. Everything’s gotta be perfect,” you mumble the last part to yourself.
Tumblr media
3:27
You’re chewing on your bottom lip, eyes bouncing between the venue’s big analog clock and the party’s guests, consisting of The Bear’s staff and the entire Berzatto clan (besides Donna - while Pete was in charge of the invites, you’d made sure that he didn’t invite her) when your phone vibrates in your hand.
Pete: The eagle is flying.
Your eyebrows furrow.
You: wtf are you talking about dude???
You: can u text me like a normal person rn, im about to have an anxiety attack
Pete: Me and Nat are outside!
You look up, eyes wide.
“Everyone, shut the fuck up! Hey, shut the fuck up! She’s here!” You shout, gesturing around wildly. It’s a little hard to get the attention of the loudest family of all time. Thankfully, Carmy sees you struggling and steps up to the front of the room with you.
“Yo! Sugar’s here!” His voice fills the venue, and everyone gets into place in front of the overflowing gifts table. “C’mon,” he motions you over to the front of the group with him. You can hear Sugar before you see her.
“Seriously Pete, where the fuck are you taking me? I’m way too pregnant to be blindfolded right now. Plus, there’s shit I gotta do at The Bear.”
“We’re almost there, relax,” Pete says with a clear smile in his voice as he opens the door and guides Sugar into the room.
The room erupts with an out of sync “Surprise!” and Sugar rips her blindfold off immediately, looking around the room in disbelief. 
She turns to Pete and hits him lightly on the chest, “What the fuck, Pete? Is this my fuckin’ baby shower?” 
He leans in to give her a kiss with his hand resting on her baby bump, and the moment is so sweet you have to look away. 
“Yeah, Nat. As much as I’d like to take the credit, Y/N was the mastermind here.” He gestures over to you and Sugar runs over to you, squealing.
The two of you hug as tightly as you can with the baby between you as she thanks you repeatedly. “I can’t believe you did all this!” You give her one last squeeze before letting her go.
“You know I’d do anything for you, Sugar. Plus, I gotta make sure baby Berzatto knows how much I love them already. I’m campaigning hard for that Godmother spot.”
“Psh,” she waves you off. “You already know you’re a shoo-in. Who else am I supposed to have as the Godparents for my first born if not you and Carmy?” She scoffs and moves on to greet her brother. 
The relief you feel as Sugar gets smothered with love by her family and friends is visible on your face as you make your way to the small bar and pour yourself a generous glass of wine. Now that Sugar was here and having a good time, your job micromanaging was done. You see Richie make his way over to you, pouring a drink of his own. 
“Ya did good, kid,” he gives you a pat on the back as he watches Sugar and Tiff animatedly talking. 
“Yeah, no thanks to your attempts at sabotage,” you joke. What was that with you tellin’ Carmy the wrong time?”
“I refuse to accept that, there’s no fuckin’ way I gave Carmy the wrong time. Anyway, if you two would just grow the fuck up and talk to each other-”
“Okay, don’t even fuckin’ go there, Richie,” you cut him off, shaking your head. “You know damn well I’ve tried to talk to him. If there’s anyone you should be lecturin’’ about this, it’s him, not me.” You pause to finish your drink. “Believe me, I’ve fuckin’ tried.” You pour yourself a new drink, smaller than the first. No matter how much you want to be drunk right now, you need to keep a clear head in case anything goes wrong. 
“I don’t know what that kid’s problem is,” he gestures to Carmy, slightly shaking his head. “It’s like tradition for the maid of honor and best man to hook up at a wedding. Who fuckin’ cares?”
Your eyes widen and you aggressively shush him. “Wha- keep your fuckin’ voice down, asshole! How the fuck do you even know about that?!” You whisper-scream at him, positioning yourself in front of him instead of beside him. 
“Chill out, Cousin, Carmy told Mikey, and Mikey told me,” he shrugged. 
“Mikey told you- so you’ve known this whole fuckin’ ti-” your sentence tapers off at the sight behind Richie. You can feel your heartbeat speed up and your hands begin to shake. “What the fuck is she doing here?” You march off towards the entrance, on a mission.
Richie’s eyebrows pinch together as you stomp away. “Who the fuck are you talkin’ about?” He turns, watching you approach the one party crasher that could ruin this day: the Berzatto family matriarch. “Fuckin’ Donna,” he mutters to himself.
Before you can reach Donna, she’s already shouting into the room. “Oh my God, look at this beautiful Berzatto family event. Oh - everyone’s here!” You can practically hear the incoming drama in the tone of her voice. “Too bad it seems like you motherfuckers forgot to invite me,” she laughs humorlessly. “It’s a good thing Jimmy let it slip to me that Sugar’s baby shower was today. It’s a grandmother’s right to attend her first grandbaby’s baby shower.”
You hold your hands out to her as if she was a wild animal, waiting to strike. “Listen, Donna, you cannot be here right now.” She grabs your arms.
“Oh, Little Red, you used to love coming over to my house. I fed you, housed you when your own parents didn’t want to. You’re so ungrateful… that’s probably where my kids get it from,” she stumbles closer to you, and you can smell the alcohol on her lips. Before you can reply, Carmy is stepping between you guys, taking her hands off of your arms.
“Hey, Ma, that’s enough. Don’t talk to her like that.” His voice is stern, but you can see the tremble in his hands. 
She grabs his face, gently. “Oh, Carmy. I don’t even know you anymore. When was the last time I saw you, huh? You never come to see me.” The tears are flowing freely on her face now. 
You glance behind you, looking at Sugar just in time to see Pete whisking her away to the kitchen, and out of Donna’s line of fire. At the same time, Richie is walking up to Donna. He puts his arm around her and leads her out the door. “C’mon, D, I’ll call you a cab. You should go home and go to sleep.” 
She pushes him off. “Y’know what? Fuck you Richie. Fuck all of you people, you don’t care about me at all. I’ll fuckin’ leave. None of you will miss me anyway.”
You take a step towards them, but Richie holds out a hand in protest. “I got this, Red, don’t worry about it.”
As Donna turns to the door with Richie hot on her heels, you gingerly place your hand on Carmy’s shoulder. “Hey, Carmy, come outside with me,” you slide your hand down his arm, take his hand, and lead the way towards the back door. He doesn’t look up, but follows you closely without saying a word. 
The stark winter air is refreshing, though you’re sure that you’ll regret the decision to come outside without a coat. You pull Carmy down to sit on the cool steps with you, and place your hands on either side of his face. You can feel him hyperventilating as your eyes meet his, his eyes wet with unshed tears. You resist the urge to look away. It’s been years since you’ve helped Carmen through a panic attack, and the memories are almost strong enough to cause your own tears. “Carmy, you have to breathe for me, okay? Here, try to match me.” You begin with the box breathing technique that you learned when you were teenagers. You take a deep breath in. One, two, three, four. Deep breath out. One, two, three, four.
In. One, two, three, four. 
Out. One, two, three, four. 
Carmy’s hands grip yours, hard, as he tries to match your breathing. “Just look at me, Carmy. It’s just you and me here, okay?” He nods and then closes his eyes, feeling the movement of your breath. 
You can’t tell whether it’s just a few moments, or ten minutes before you feel Carmy calm down, but he eventually opens his eyes and his grip on you loosens. You let go abruptly, as if his skin was a hot stove. 
“I- sorry. I’m sorry-” he starts, but you refuse to let him apologize for having a panic attack. 
“Don’t, Carmy. You don’t have anything to be sorry about.”
“I do, though-” he starts again, but you shake your head. 
“C’mon, Carm. I know we haven’t talked in a while, but you know better than to apologize to me for having a panic attack.”
“That’s not- I’m sorry I didn’t call you. I’m sorry I didn’t answer when you called, either. And I’m sorry I didn’t talk to you when Mikey died.” Oh. 
You can’t help but look away, smoothing away the nonexistent wrinkles in your dress. “Carmen…” you trail off, not knowing what to say. “Let’s just leave it in the past. I think we’ve both been through enough today, yeah? It’s not important anymore.” You give him a tightlipped smile and move to get up.
He lets out a frustrated sigh, grabbing your hand. “No, it is important. I was a jackass. To everyone, but especially to you. I don’t want you to think that you were just- that what we did wasn’t-” he breathes out, running his other hand through his disheveled curls. “You’re important to me, okay?” 
You give his hand one last squeeze before letting go and wrapping your arms around yourself. Whether it’s as an emotional shield or because of the cold, you don’t know, but this is all becoming too much for you. “I know, Carmy. It’s okay, really. We don’t have to talk about it. Actually, I would prefer it if we didn’t. It’s been years, we’ve both moved on. I heard about you and Claire, and I’m happy for you,” you give him a smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes, and he can instantly tell it isn’t real. “Let’s just pretend none of it ever happened, and we can go back to who we were before. For Sugar’s sake, okay?” You give him a single nod, as if you were agreeing with yourself on his behalf, and go back inside before he can respond. 
He leans back on the step and pulls out a cigarette, before talking to the air: “Okay.”
Tumblr media
dividers credit ! <3
557 notes · View notes
venusiangguk · 2 years
Text
the art of yearning | jjk (m)
Tumblr media
>>pairing: jungkook x reader / dilf!jk x grocery store clerk!oc
>>genre: friends with benefits, smut, angst
>>word count: 15.7k 
>>warnings: dom jk, sub oc, age gap, taekook heart to heart, a lot of self-directed negative thoughts from nari’s father </3, jaykay being a dumb man 😕, jaykay needing everything spelled out for him 🙄, tae to the rescue <3, hobi for comedic relief bc jfc 😭 the YEARNING, guilty jerk sesh lets goooo, lots of memories n fantasies <3, omg slight hinting at jk’s subby era!!, 1 finish followed by many regrets n thoughts ~~
>>notes: part 1 of 2 <3 this part is the post-fight happenings from jk’s pov! i split it up bc as we can see it’s already quite long 🥲 pls dont be mad at me <3 i hope u guys are able to understand jk’s reasoning n thought process a lil more after this !! 
this is part of my dilf jk series that can be found on my masterlist
>>summary: jungkook wants you as much as he misses you.
It’s a bit colder than the last time he was here. The air a bit chillier, the wind a little sharper. It’s admittedly been a while. A month, maybe a touch less. Jeongguk hasn’t really been keeping track. 
 Circumstances, like the weather, differ from the last time he was here as well. 
 It shouldn’t still feel like it’s as big of a deal as it does. It shouldn’t still be pressing so heavy on him, and it definitely shouldn’t cross his mind as often as it does when he deliberately does his best not to think about it. About you.
 You said you would think about things, but Jeongguk never said the same. So he truly does not understand why he just cannot keep you out of his head.
 When it’s his week with Nari, it’s not as bad– the thought of you isn’t so nonstop. Her terrible two’s, which really aren’t that terrible, keep him busy. 
 Constantly trying to keep up with her, or running around his home trying to find that damn narwhal that she always seems to misplace, even though he feels like she always has it in her tiny hands. She’s taken it with her everywhere since you got it for her. And there you are again. On his mind, clouding his thoughts. 
 Constantly redoing her pigtails that she yanks out. It’s a new, maybe slightly terrible, habit that she’s picked up. And they’re still always lopsided despite the numerous times you tried to show him how to make them symmetrical. You said something about tugging gently on the tiny sprouts until they were where he wanted them so– There he goes.
 Constantly closing and reclosing the baby gate she’s learned to open in the gym whenever he tries to clear his head by getting a workout in. Exercising does help a small amount when he’s not interrupted by his daughter. And when he doesn’t think about how the smudged handprints on the mirror got there. The ones that he has still yet to clean. Those instances are a bit gross but they aren’t exactly his fault. He doesn’t actively think about you then;  he’s reminded.
 A lot of things seem to remind him of you. 
 Work also keeps him occupied for the most part. Until it doesn’t. 
 Visions of you on your front, against his desk, with your hands cuffed behind your back, interrupt him during his video conferences. The metal part of his chair has scratches on it from where the same cuffs rubbed against it, metal on metal, as he struggled against their hold with you on top of him– his suits get caught on the ridges, the material getting snagged on the raised, uneven metal. Just like you get caught on the ridges of his brain, the memory of you getting snagged on his conscience.
 Jeongguk feels so guilty when he lets his mind wander to you like that.
 But that’s not even the worst of it. It’s even harder when Nari is at Dasom’s. 
 That’s when it really hits him– how intertwined you had become in his life. 
 You’re not there anymore, but you’re still everywhere. 
 You’re in the kitchen when he wakes up to make his morning coffee. In his shirt with sleepy eyes and a hopeless smile on your face as you laugh embarrassed. Telling him in your slightly scratchy morning voice that you had wanted to surprise him with his americano, but you couldn’t figure out the ‘fancy, high-tech’ coffee machine. 
 He can’t even remember how many times he showed you how to work it. You were able to figure out the blender eventually, but the Jura he splurged on seemed to have been a lost cause.
 You’re in his closet when he picks out his clothes; you’re picking out some of his to wear as your own, too. You’re in the articles of clothing you left behind, still taking up space in his dresser just as much as you’re still taking up space in his mind. 
 You’re on the couch with him when he settles down after work, fidgeting because you were never able to sit still for very long. Going back and forth between having your feet tucked underneath you, and outstretched on the recliner. Between having your head in your hand, and in his lap. 
 Jeongguk will say that he’s able to get through a series, a movie, a documentary– much faster, and he’s able to remember the premise a lot better now that he doesn’t have you constantly asking him questions about the plot. Questions you would have found the answer to eventually if you would have just watched. An annoying, yet cute and endearing tendency of yours that he misses more than he thought he would and more than he probably should.
 You’re in the garden too. In the flowers, the colors of the petals match the color of your nails that week. You’re in the grass, resting atop a blanket, head pillowed on your arms, just watching him as he tends to the weeds. You’re in the sun that beats down on his back because it feels warm, exactly like you did.
 A brisk breeze blows Jeongguk out of his thoughts and back to the present. He’s met with the familiar door in front of him. He’s apprehensive as he brings his hand up to knock.
 It opens before he even gets a chance to rap his knuckles against the wood, and he’s face to face with an overly excited, loud person.
 “Hello, my good…” Hoseok’s bright smile drops and his brows pinch in confusion, “singular bitch?” His tone is puzzled as he looks at Jeongguk and then over his shoulder like he’s searching for someone. “Where’s __?”
 Jeongguk sighs quietly, knowing that the questions were inevitably going to come. He RSVP’d you coming with him to Friendsgiving a bit prematurely, even before he asked you, just figuring it would be a given that you would agree and want to join. You were supposed to go with him and–
 He feels a teeny, tiny hand squeeze at his pinky, trying to get his attention. Nari’s eyes are big and round as she looks up at him. Her orange, leaf-shaped hair bow is about to fall out as she babbles a mostly decipherable version of your name, and Jeongguk’s heart chips a little in his chest. Her speech is getting better every day, even if she still babbles in broken phrases. Even if a lot of her words are still hard to pick up on and talking is her last resort. After you left, your name became one of the few words she could say clearly.
 He gives her a gentle, sad smile and shakes his head softly. “Not today, boba.”
 Nari seems mostly unbothered, used to that answer by now, her attention going to the rings on her dad’s fingers. She doesn’t ask about you as much anymore. Only when she’s reminded of you, like just now when Hoseok said your name or that time Jeongguk caved and looked through his photos with her tucked into his side while he thought she was preoccupied with her show on the tv. Maybe you’re starting to fade away in her little baby brain.
 Jeongguk’s attention goes back to his friend, who is standing with a tense smile on his face. “Thanks for that,” he says with a pointed look, walking through the threshold with full hands. 
 Hoseok throws his palms up. “Well how was I supposed to know you and __,” he mouths your name silently, “broke up? You don’t ever even reply to the groupchat anymore.”
 “That is because I have the groupchat muted. Also, we didn’t break up. We were never together,” Jeongguk says matter-of-factly, plucking the bow from Nari’s hair and trying to fix it and put it back in with one hand. He taps the little, lop-sided sprout and says, “Go on, say ‘hi’ to Uncle Hobi.”
 Nari smiles, the tulle bottom of her poofy dress bouncing, her teeny mary janes clicking with each step as she toddles over to her uncle. She extends her pudgy arms, one of her hands holding her narwhal.
 Hoseok crouches, picking up the baby. “Oh my goodness! Look at all those 2-year-old teeth!” His eyes drop to the plush she’s holding by the horn, “And what is th-” 
 Jeongguk interrupts him, shaking his head and making a loud, scolding, AH sound. And when their eyes meet, Hoseok’s are wide and confused, and Jeongguk’s are trying to convey ‘do not’.
 “Okay!” Hoseok carries on swiftly, the same stiff smile still on his face, “Let’s get Daddy to drop off that pie he’s holding, and then you can go see all your cousins and aunties and other less important uncles, hmm?” he coos to Nari, turning to walk towards Namjoon’s kitchen.
 “Jes!” she spouts, nodding in a rather professional manner like the plan is exactly perfect and like they should get right to business. She points towards where she knows the kitchen is with 3 of her baby fingers.
 Jeongguk follows suit smiling softly at his daughter while he simultaneously readies himself to face the onslaught of questions. The ones about where you are, what happened, and who did what. Whose fault it is. If he’s reached out;  if you have. If he regrets it; if he misses you. The sooner he gets that over with, the sooner he can have a glass of wine. Or two.
 Hoseok has other plans, sitting Nari’s butt on the marble countertop, next to the pie that Jeongguk sets down. When Jeongguk looks at him ready to take their leave, Hoseok is looking at the dessert.
 “What the hell is that, JK?”
 Jeongguk’s mouth drops open, before he sniffs, offended. “I made it from scratch and I worked very hard on it and you’re very rude.” He glances at the pie that’s under scrutiny, and will admit (to himself) that it’s not particularly… pretty. But it’s still edible. Probably.
 His friend makes a disgusted face that he doesn’t even try to hide. “Why didn’t you just buy one like we normally do?”
 The whole group rotates what they bring every year, and yes, everyone aside from Yoongi and Taehyung’s wife all provided a store-bought pie when it was their turn. Jeongguk shrugs.
  “You can grill. You can’t bake. You know this,” Hoseok reminds.
 When Jeongguk just stays quiet, Hoseok groans, rolling his eyes. Nari mimes him like a little parrot, her groan tinted with laughter like she thinks she’s the funniest thing in the world. Jeongguk agrees.
 “Don’t tell me–” Hoseok starts.
 “I just didn’t want to go to the grocery store,” Jeongguk interrupts, his voice huffy, even though he tries to sound nonchalant. Like it was completely normal for him to avoid the grocery store he’s been going to regularly for years.
 “Jeongguk,” the elder gripes, “what the fuck is going on?”
 Hoseok whispers the swear word as if that will prevent Nari from hearing it when she’s sat right in front of him and Jeongguk scowls, grabbing his toddler. He’s turning to walk away and talking over his shoulder. “She can still hear it even if you whisper it.”
 Quick footsteps catch up to Jeongguk before they fall into step with him. “Have you just been eating takeaway for–” Hoseok pauses, “however long it’s been? Don’t you care about your spawn’s health?”
 “Don’t call her that and of course, I haven’t,” Jeongguk replies, disgruntled. “I’ve been getting groceries delivered… Yoongi left us some food a couple of times too.”
 “Thank god for Yoongi,” Hoseok says with a roll of his eyes. “Have you been getting them from that place with the ridiculous delivery fee?”
 Jeongguk stays silent once again, adjusting Nari on his hip. Only a couple more feet until they reach the backyard and he can be free from Hoseok’s pestering. 
 “You know just because you have a lot of money and can spend it on stupid things, doesn’t mean you should,” Hoseok says in a rather bored tone before adding, “Also you could have literally gotten a pie delivered.” 
 Jeongguk pauses when they reach the sliding glass door, turning to look at the other. “First of all I tried, they’ve been sold out since Tuesday. Second of all, can we please just drop it? At least for right now?” he asks, a bit quieter. “I’ll tell you later, I just–” He tapers off at the end, his lips pursing.
 Hoseok softens, as he reads Jeongguk. He notes how tired he looks, his eyes dark underneath. The kind of sad twinge the younger’s voice has taken. How his shoulders sag a bit like something’s been weighing him down. And then Hoseok simply gives a nod and a small, slightly apologetic smile. 
 His hand comes to Jeongguk’s shoulder and he squeezes a few times, hoping the gesture comes off reassuring. “You know I’m just messing with you. And that I only ask because I care. Tell us when you want.”
 It’s then that Jeongguk’s reminded why they all have been friends for so long, and why he’s so grateful for them. 
 Although he’s had the groupchat muted, he’s glanced at it. He saw everyone still including him in the conversations even though he never replied. 
 Saw the individual texts from them too. 
 Jimin’s telling him that Solmi misses Nari and that they should have a playdate. Volunteering to host said playdate, to watch the girls for a little while, to let Jeongguk have a break if he needs it. 
 The ‘just checking in on you’ texts from Joon. Simple yet heartfelt messages that were a little too soft to read without his eyes stinging. 
 The offers from Jin and Hoseok to be his workout partners– the ones given despite the fact that everyone knows the older two have done their best to avoid joining Jeongguk at the gym since he picked up his relatively new and exceedingly intense boxing workouts. 
 Yoongi’s straightforward messages. Merely short notes; just quiet reminders that told Jeongguk a lot more than to remember to bring in the food Yoongi left by the door, to be quick so the bugs don’t get to it. I’ll take care of you, but remember to take care of yourself too.
 Taehyung’s ‘wyd’ texts, followed by a game invite on the Xbox that Jeongguk’s been playing more often than he’d liked to admit. He never pushed when Jeongguk declined, even though he could see him online.
 Hoseok opens the sliding glass door for them, and everyone’s heads turn to look. And it would be funny, the way that everyone’s smiles turn a little confused. If said smiles didn’t precede inquiries.
 “Where’s __?” 
 Jeongguk loves his friends, but it’s going to be a long night.
 ~~~
 The fancy outdoor patio lamps on Namjoon’s deck double as heaters and keep Jeongguk from shivering in the late autumn air as he sips that glass of wine he promised himself. A red that’s a hint more bitter than what he usually likes, but it seems fitting. 
 Maybe he’s a bit dramatic. And maybe he’s wallowing. 
 But he blames it on the alcohol. Doesn’t acknowledge that he’s been down, off, for a while. About a month, maybe a touch less.
 He moves his gaze from the red he’s absently swirling in his glass to the house, peering in from the outside. Sees all the kids playing in the living room, some of the adults on the couch by the fire, some in the kitchen still picking at the leftovers that Namjoon’s fiancée is trying to put away. That’s a recent development that came as no surprise, and Jeongguk’s happy for Namjoon and Hyesoo, but he wishes he could be happier. 
 One of Taehyung’s twins has Nari on their back, her hands gripping tightly in the floppy mop of hair on the boy's head. Jeongguk smiles softly to himself when he sees her mouth open and her eyes turn into tiny, little half-moons as she laughs. He closes his own briefly, tries to hear her baby giggles in his head. When he opens them again, his view is cut off by the twins’ dad.
 The bottle in Taehyung’s hand is full and the same kind that’s in the glass Jeongguk’s been nursing. He's holding another for himself as well. He stays quiet for a while as he stands behind the seat across from Jeongguk.
 “We’re gonna pull names for Secret Santa soon,” Taehyung eventually states.
 Jeongguk inhales deeply before blowing out like he’s readying himself to be around the rest of the gang again. His breath makes the few out-of-place strands of hair that have fallen across his forehead flutter, his hairstyle now messy from his hands running through it one too many times. Then he nods. “Alright. Should probably head inside then.”
 Taehyung mirrors his nod with a contemplative look. “Or we could just chat for a while. Make the kids practice patience for once.”
 “We could,” Jeongguk agrees easily, a barely-there grin on his lips. Maybe because he doesn’t want to go inside. Maybe because he knows his friend will quote-unquote, make him talk about what happened. He’d be lying to himself if he said he didn’t think talking through everything would help alleviate some of the ache.
 The older boy looks like he gets himself comfortable, taking a seat and pulling the cork from the bottle. He tops off Jeongguk’s glass and while he’s filling his own he says, “Why’d you end things with her?”
 Jeongguk falters briefly, the wine glass pausing right before it reaches his lips. “You don’t know it was me that cut it off.”
 He gets a shrug in response. “I suppose. But if we’re going off track records, it’s you that has a bad one.” Taehyung snickers when Jeongguk scowls at him.
 Jeongguk clicks his tongue as he takes another, bigger sip. “Fair, I guess…” he amends, but doesn’t elaborate. Instead, he just sighs. “I don’t know. She’s too young. Or maybe I’m too old. Maybe the places that we’re at in life are just too different.” He doesn’t say it, but he thinks that he may be too far ahead and that he’s not sure if you would have been able to catch up because that’s just the way that time works. “Either way, it doesn’t matter.”
 “Did she somehow get younger since the barbeque? Because it didn’t seem like it bothered you then?” Taehyung asks with a chuckle before adding, “Also, 7 years isn’t even that big of an age difference. I think the thing that might make you feel like it’s a bigger deal than it is, is the fact that there is such a drastic difference in your careers… ” 
 He ponders quietly for a second before he decides to tack on, “Which is okay, you’re allowed to be cautious about that kind of stuff. If I made as much as you, I would too,” Taehyung puts a humble hand to his chest, a soft laugh falling from his lips. The hand he raises is modest because he does very well for himself, right on par with Jeongguk and they both know it. “But I also hope you know that it’s normal for her to not know what she wants to do at her age. Not everyone is like you and Dasom were.”
 The way Jeongguk’s cheeks turn to a faint hue of pink at the mention of the barbeque is an involuntary reaction, and he presses his eyes shut to try and fight off the wave of embarrassment. But little snapshot memories of you play against his lids like a montage– you in the water talking with Jin’s wife, at the edge of the pool with aioli on your bottom lip. In the chair next to him with Nari sleeping in your lap, in the bathroom with flushed cheeks, and him between legs. In his hands, in his arms, in his heart. 
 He revels in it, lets himself miss you for just a moment. 
 “___ met her by the way. Dasom, I mean. That was the– catalyst? The thing that got the ball rolling, I guess?” Jeongguk states softly, like he’s not sure if he chose the right words. He’s trying for an air of nonchalance, his eyes flicking downcast as his tattooed fingers toy with the stem of his glass. 
 “And that never really bothered me surprisingly. Like her job…” he adds with a half-hearted shrug. “But you’re right. It’s okay that she doesn’t know what she wants to do career-wise yet…” He watches a droplet of condensation run down the curve of the glass until it drops, the moisture making the wood of the table a few shades darker.
 “But that was just another factor. The not knowing that came with her being so much younger. I think she thought that she knew what she wanted. Thought that she wanted to be with me.” He shrugs again, a small, slightly sad smile on his face. 
 “I’m not sure she knew what being with a divorced father would actually entail, or that she would have still wanted it if she did. I couldn’t let her trap herself, no matter how much I wanted her to stay. It would have just led to resentment and regret. And I wouldn’t have been able to handle her hating me.” He glances at Taehyung briefly before he looks away. “We just had a wake-up call, I guess. A bit of a reality check.” 
 Taehyung winces sympathetically. “I can see how your current girlfriend meeting your baby mama could make things a smidge tense, and cause you to really think things over, maybe take a break… But enough for you to completely end things?”
 Jeongguk doesn’t bother correcting Taehyung. Just shakes his head. “It was always going to…” He pauses, thinks to himself quietly. End doesn’t feel like the right word because you and him never really began. “Stop…” he settles on saying. “If it wasn’t Nari’s mom, it would have been something else, you know? The wake-up call would have come eventually. And sooner is better than later.”
 “Wait back up…” Taehyung’s eyes roam like he’s trying to make sense of what Jeongguk is saying and his previous statement is just now registering. “But she said she wanted to be with you?” he clarifies.
 Jeongguk nods, takes a sip of wine.
 “And you wanted to be with her?”
 Jeongguk gives another, more stilted nod. “I mean, yeah…? But like I said, it just wouldn’t have worked –for a number of reasons– and we had a wake-up call.”
 “Okay,” Taehyung shuts his eyes and shakes his head along with his hands, trying to shush his friend. “Forget about this alleged wake-up call and your reasons for like two seconds,” he says.
 Jeongguk sits quietly across from him.
 “So you’re telling me she blatantly said she wanted to be with you–” He places one hand on the table, palm up before continuing. “–and that you wanted to be with her–” He places his other hand on top of his first, interlocking his fingers as if he’s putting two and two together. “–but you ended things, basically made her decision for her–” He jerks his hands apart dramatically, with an explosive gesture. “–because you think she doesn’t know what she wants?”
 A brief lull in the conversation ensues. 
 “Among other things,” Jeongguk quips eventually with pinched brows. He feels a bit small like he’s being scolded.
 Taehyung’s head tilts back, and he takes a deep breath before speaking in a very parent-esque tone like he’s trying to explain something to a child. “Jeongguk, you cannot do that. You have got to let people make their own decisions.”
 Jeongguk does not appreciate the intonation and he shows as much by narrowing his eyes. 
 “So ___ met your ex, who probably manipulated the situation to her liking,” Jeongguk opens his mouth to defend the mother of his child –it’s a habit at this point– but Taehyung cuts him off with a raised hand and a roll of his eyes. “The woman literally twists and manhandles situations for a living, please save your ‘Dasom’s not a bad person, she’s not a bad mom’ lecture.” 
 Taehyung’s known Dasom for a long time and while he’s never really been her biggest fan, even he will acknowledge that part of her, the part that’s calculating and crafty with words, is a skill just as much as it’s a flaw. It always instilled an unsettled, almost disturbed, awe in him when he caught glimpses of how she was able to spin things to get her way and gain control over situations. It made her an incredible lawyer; it allowed her to excel in her field and advance her career incredibly fast. 
 And he’s well aware that Dasom has a right, to some extent as Nari’s mother, to question who Jeongguk brings around their daughter. But he also knows she can be dramatic, calculative, and quite cruel at times. He doesn’t doubt that seeing someone new in her old home with her ex-husband put her on the defensive… Made her lash out, blow things out of proportion, and use that skill of hers to put thoughts into Jeongguk’s head, and potentially yours too, to attain the upper hand again. 
 In all honesty, when Taehyung looks at it from an unbiased, objective point of view… He’s not sure he can even blame Jeongguk’s ex. Even if he is harsh for the simple fact that he’s Jeongguk’s best friend and does think that Dasom likely exaggerated the points of whatever she said– it’s not hard to gather that the entire situation was shit all around, and everyone involved was caught off guard. 
 The natural tension that comes with unexpected and unfamiliar situations probably caused everyone to act in ways they typically wouldn’t. Words harsher, actions meaner, outcomes more drastic. The damage done to all parties by all parties was most likely unintentional, albeit extreme. 
 But he says what he says, and promptly carries on with his point. “So she met your lawyer ex, and you told her she doesn’t know what she wants…” Taehyung finishes as if he’s keeping a mental tab of everything that went wrong. “And then ___ just… left?”
 “It was slightly more intense and painful and complicated than that,” Jeongguk replies in a defensive tone, “but essentially I guess? I mean I told her I wasn’t going to let her stay so what else was she going to do? I didn’t really give her much of a choice.”
 Taehyung’s face falls, and he chooses to ignore how easily the words fall from Jeongguk’s lips; almost like they don’t fully register.  “Please tell me you didn’t actually say that to her. That you ‘wouldn’t let her stay’.” 
 Jeongguk stays silent once more, a miffed expression overtaking his features this time.
 “Jesus, Gguk.” Taehyung pinches the bridge of his nose, looks like he’s in actual pain because of Jeongguk’s actions. “Have you talked to her since?” 
 The younger one deflates, his irritation transitions quickly and smoothly to dejection. “Kinda. She left in the middle of the night really upset… like crying. And we– she was probably tired… Then add the stress of Dasom showing up–” 
 He winces to himself, remembering the state you were in. He wasn’t much better off, but still, he feels bad because– “I knew all of that and I still let her leave. Obviously? Right? Because I was the one that told her to go?” He looks confused, like he’s trying to make sense of his past actions and what he was feeling at that moment because it doesn't quite make sense now. 
 “Anyway, I got really worried and I impulsively texted her, asking if she made it home safe…” After a tense pause, he tacks on: “She didn’t reply.” Like it’s an afterthought.
 “And neither would I if someone said the things you said to her, to me,” Taehyung says with a flat stare.
 “Who’s side are you on?” The questioned reply sounds whiny, maybe slightly begging.
 “Yours!” Taehyung exclaims, “We are all Team Jeongguk except Jeongguk.”
 The notes of the conversation have been a bit melancholic for obvious reasons, but it’s more or less remained easy to manage. However, as Jeongguk holds Taehyung’s stare for a few long moments he feels a wonted, recognizable ache begin to stop up his voice. He looks away with a shake of his head. “You don’t get it. You don’t know everything that happened, or how it felt to get rid of her when she was–”
 Cutting himself off is a consequence of the lump in his throat. That familiar, ordinarily tender ache growing until he can’t get around it anymore. 
 “Then tell me,” Taehyung stresses, adding a pleading edge to his words. “Explain to me what happened, describe how it felt to cut her out. When she was what? Spell it out for me,” he requests. 
 Sure he wants to know, but he’s mainly trying to keep Jeongguk talking. Trying to get him to work through the false narratives he has in his head for why he ended things with you, while he explains them to him.
 Jeongguk’s brooding; ruminating as he tries to sort his thoughts. Surface level– they're easy, simple questions when he thinks about them easily and simply. When he contemplates them in superficial ways. 
 What happened? He cut you out.  
 How did it feel to cut you out? It hurt. 
 What were you to him that made it hurt when he cut you out? The basic, most elementary explanation would be that you were someone he cared about and someone he wanted to keep. 
 It's simple enough to explain, easy enough to understand when he describes it superficially.
 But when he digs deeper, thoroughly reflects– it’s not as easy. It’s quite the contrary. 
 Because with depth comes intricacies that are so weighted and hold so much gravity that it makes them too difficult and complex to explain. They are too personal and intimate and special to describe to someone who just isn’t privy. 
 Jeongguk couldn’t even figure it out. Even he wasn’t able to grasp, couldn’t comprehend, wasn’t able to figure out a way to make you and him simple; him and you easy enough to just work. 
 And if he couldn’t understand it– he’s not convinced he’ll be able to break it down and simplify it enough to elucidate it to someone who doesn’t know you as he did, someone who didn’t get to experience you the way he got to. 
 Because it’s all so much bigger than ‘cutting’ and ‘hurting’ and ‘caring’ and ‘wanting’.
 Jeongguk gives Taehyung the plainest, most straightforward explanation that he can muster. “It hurt to cut her out because I cared about her and I wanted her. But I had to.”
 “If you wanted her, why didn’t you let yourself have her?” Taehyung asks, his voice inquisitively puzzled and laced with empathetic pity.  “Why did you have to?” 
 “It was never supposed to be serious,” Jeongguk snaps, his voice vexed and short, like he’s irritated that he has to explain because it should be obvious. “We were never supposed to get as involved or like– as invested as we did. That wasn’t part of the plan–”
 Taehyung retaliates and makes his voice sharp to match. “Oh for fuck’s sake, Jeongguk. Was the divorce not enough for you to realize that plans don’t mean shit? Was that not enough for you to see that even literal years of planning won’t keep something from falling apart?”
 The shift in the atmosphere could be felt even as he was still speaking. Now that he’s done and it's quiet, the tension is palpable and Taehyung knows he’s so incredibly close to overstepping. He can tell Jeongguk is trying to keep himself calm. The younger has his hands curled into tight fists and he does that tick– the one where he subtly jerks his head to the side, jutting his jaw out firmly. But still, Taehyung continues, although he treads a bit more carefully this time. 
 His voice is quiet and he’s talking at a slower pace than normal like he’s trying to ease Jeongguk into his next point. “Was having a baby to save your marriage part of your plan?”
 It’s not a laugh; the sound that leaves his lips can’t be classified as that– but Jeongguk barks out something. Maybe a scoff? A cackle? Taehyung can’t be sure, but it's an irate, sarcastic, scary thing that lets him know that Jeongguk is fuming, just shy of being absolutely done with him and his shit.
 “Tae, I promise you that if you do not think before you open your fucking mouth again–”
 Taehyung winces and raises his hands in both surrender and defense like he’s trying to placate Jeongguk while also trying to protect himself. “Please– just let me finish?”
 Jeongguk says nothing– the lividity coloring his features is telling enough. And Taehyung should probably do the same: Say nothing and heed the verbal and gestural warnings. Should probably read the room. 
 Naturally, he does not. Instead, choosing to tentatively continue.
 “Was having a baby to save your marriage part of your plan? No. It wasn’t. But!” Taehyung rushes the words out, using the conjunction as a way to let Jeongguk know that he still has more to say and a chance to redeem himself.
  “But– it also didn’t ruin anything. Something happening that isn’t part of the original plan, doesn’t automatically mean the new outcome is going to end up bad.” Taehyung watches Jeongguk’s scowl intensify, but he also sees how his clenched fists lose some of the tension, the veins and tendons becoming more subtle under his tattooed skin. 
 “You ended up with the best thing that’s ever happened to you because things didn’t go according to plan,” Taehyung reiterates, his voice soft, yet stern. 
 There’s a decent lull in the flow of the conversation; enough time for Jeongguk to speak up. Taehyung decides to continue when he doesn’t. 
 “Make all the plans you want, Jeongguk. But you will never be able to plan for everything. It’s impossible because there’s no way for you to know what’s going to happen.” He gives him another chance to say something, but Jeongguk’s lips are pressed in a stubborn line and his jaw is clenched. 
 Taehyung begins again, “You can make all the plans you want but most, if not all, of them, aren’t going to go the way you thought they would or the way you thought you wanted. They’re going to deviate in some way or another because you were planning for something uncertain and constantly changing.”
 “There’s a chance that some of the outcomes will be bad, and that they will hurt so fucking bad. It could end up being the worst thing that ever happens to you. And I get being scared of that. I get why you want to plan, and why you have this ‘one or the other/all or nothing/black and white' mindset. I know it feels safer and like you have more control,” Taehyung sympathizes. 
 “But you have to acknowledge that there’s also a chance that an unplanned outcome can be better than an intended one. It could be the best thing that ever happens to you. It could be a ‘Nari’ outcome.” Taehyung tries for an encouraging smile. “___ might be one of those ‘plans’ that don’t go the way you mean for it to but end up resulting in something better. But you won’t ever know if you don’t let go of some of that control and just let things happen.”
 The sentiment Jeongguk is left with is a bruising, taxing one. It’s making his throat tight and swallowing Taehyung’s notions, a chore. He’s blinking back heavy, angry tears, because he knows that what his friend is saying makes sense. He also knows that it doesn’t really change much of anything because he already let you go.
 “I know that I can’t control everything and that I can’t predict every single outcome,” Jeongguk starts, “But I have to think about things long-term. If I can prevent certain things from occurring, or even encourage some, by planning… Then I have to at least make an effort to. For Nari’s sake.”
 “Well obviously you think long-term about the big picture,” Taehyung agrees. He’s a father too, after all. “But you have to be willing to compromise and adapt along the way. It doesn’t have to be completely all or nothing or as extreme as you think it does. You can change your mind as things happen. Choices aren’t contracts. You can have a change of heart and you can change the quote-unquote, plan.”
 Jeongguk feels his stomach drop at the last part of Taehyung’s statement, feels a little sick actually– so he bypasses it completely, acts like he doesn’t hear it. Instead, he says, “I didn’t do that with ___. Looking back, it feels like I didn’t think about anything long term when I was with her.”
 Taehyung looks at him, puzzled. “What do you mean?”
 “It was like everything was only as big as her. I only thought ahead when I was thinking about the next time I would see her. I stopped planning and being responsible and I started overlooking what should have been important and–” Jeongguk’s mouth opens and closes a few times like he’s trying to find the words but he ends up just shaking his head, his voice quiet when he goes with, “It was like I wanted her so badly that I got consumed by her because everything felt so good and I was so happy… I didn’t think about anything else. Didn’t think about Nari, I didn’t think about __… I didn’t even think about my future self.”
 Jeongguk’s elbows find their place on the table and he presses the heels of his palms into his eyes, before scrubbing his hands down his face, tired and defeated looking when he glances up again. “I forgot that I had priorities like–  I have a baby, a tiny person that is directly dependent on me for everything. I– I can’t just do that.” 
 “Also, I was being so selfish the whole time,” he transitions in an almost panicky tone. He’s rambling, ranting perhaps, with a self-directed, humorless laugh, “And it was so easy to be that way and get lost in her because of how she was. She was so good, Tae. Like carefree, and sweet, and so giving. She made everything so–” 
 His words get cut short. Caught on his heart that’s ballooning; swelling so big in his chest. Filling his pleural cavity with this contrite guilt that’s so sharp it cuts through his brain fog and he becomes so miserably aware of the fact that maybe it was so easy for him to be so selfish –so thoughtless– with you was due to you being so ready and so willing to give him everything– without asking for anything in return. 
 He didn’t have to give to get –and he didn’t mean to, he didn’t do it consciously– but he ended up just taking and taking and taking. 
 The epiphanic dawning makes it sound raw, almost choked when he gets out, “–just so much better and easier.”
 “Gguk–” Taehyung tries.
 “God I was so fucking selfish– like so careless with her,” he repeats. Sounds kind of shocked, surprised with himself. “Like– I knew I had no intention of keeping her. Even if I ended up wanting to, I knew. I always knew I wouldn’t let myself have her like that. And still,” He stresses the word and squeezes his eyes shut and just barely shakes his head, “I still intertwined our lives together so seamlessly and I still–” 
 The atmosphere is heavy and there’s an air of disappointment cloaking Jeongguk’s thoughts and admissions. It’s undeniable that the chagrin is self-directed; displeased with himself not only because of how irresponsible he feels he was –with you and his daughter– but also because of how he’s let the whole situation deplete him. How he let himself get so fixated that he’s only just now recognizing, or maybe admitting, his faults. How he allowed the situation to evolve into something so much bigger and heavier than it should have; exhausting him. 
 Taehyung, who finishes off his glass of wine during the pregnant pause, looks across the table and holds Jeongguk’s gaze for a fleeting moment before he’s shrugging. His tone is listless, lackadaisical as he says, “I don’t think you were being selfish. You said it yourself: You were happy with her. She was happy with you.”
 Jeongguk sits there, flabbergasted and at a loss for words. It feels like he’s falling apart, maybe close to dying even– yet across from him his best friend looks almost bored? Maybe not bored, but stoically calm? Aloof? 
 And Jeongguk knows he’s being sensitive and dramatic and he knows it’s not Taehyung that’s becoming hyperconscious of his past mistakes, but aloof isn’t exactly the reaction he expected after more or less having a breakdown. Jeongguk takes a moment, gathers himself just to become confused again when he catches up to Taehyung’s words. 
 He asks his friend if he means what he said about not thinking that Jeongguk was selfish. Can’t fathom how Taehyung couldn’t see the selfishness of his actions, how he can find him blameless in the situation; when he, himself feels his self-interest was blatant.
 “Based on what you told me, I think you portrayed a lot of…” The older one pauses, eyes looking skyward like he’s searching for the right word. It kind of seems like he’s settling, trying to soften the blow, when he says “...unbecoming qualities.” 
 His shoulders slump at Taehyung’s words, but Jeongguk now deems that he doesn’t need to know how his friend can find him blameless because his friend simply doesn’t. 
 Not that Jeongguk can blame him. 
 “But I don’t think selfishness was one of them because I don't think it’s selfish to prioritize happiness,” he states. “It’s the universal pursuit– everyone wants it…” He squints at Jeongguk, his expression mildly captious. “If anything I think you were more selfish when you ended things.”
 A soft, unbelieving scoff leaves Jeongguk's lips before he can stop it. He recovers by shaking his head. His fingers extend, and he waves his hands around a little like he’s frustrated. “I ended it for her. So she could be free–”
 “So you wanted her to be ‘free’,” Taehyung wiggles his fingers, air-quoting. “but not the kind of ‘free’ where she’s ‘free’ to make her own decisions?”
 “I–” Jeongguk’s mouth snaps shut. He flounders a little before he gives up and settles into a malcontent frown.
 “Do you see what I’m getting at?” Taehyung asks, his tone slightly parental again. Sounds mostly patient, if not, just edging on short.
 Jeongguk’s reply is headstrong silence.
 “You completely snubbed her and overlooked what she wanted to do what you wanted because you thought it was selfless and the right thing–”
 “I didn’t want to–”
 “But you must have?” Taehyung says, his palms open and gesturing in front of him like the proof is plain to see, like it’s right there on the empty table between them. He’s tried to stay patient, keep that calm tolerance. But he’s just over how dreadfully dense his friend is being. His tone is no longer just edging on short– Taehyung’s past that. It’s almost malicious and instigative when he snaps, “Because if you didn’t want to, Jeongguk, then why did you do it?” 
 Jeongguk’s nostrils flare slightly as he tries to not lash out as he counters, “I already told you–”
 “Yeah, you told me a whole bunch of bullshit excuses for not trying.”
 An offended, indignant gasp is the only comeback Jeongguk can give before Taehyung is ranting again, talking over him.
 “Okay,” His gestures go from exasperated to pacifying as he bares his palms to Jeongguk, almost like he’s surrendering. He’s not, of course, but he’ll admit that was a bit harsh. “As I said earlier, I get it. Like yeah. I get being hesitant, I get being scared. I get you feeling guilty for the way that things played out. Those are all totally valid feelings; ways to… act?” 
 Taehyung thinks, then grins when he comes up with a better word. “Those are all valid ways to behave in this situation.” He nods to himself as if he’s his audience and he’s encouraging himself because he’s giving the best speech known to man. 
 “But some emotions and behaviors are not valid in this situation. Entitlement, for one. It’s my opinion that you must have been emoting this quite generously considering how you were acting like it was your right to disregard her. Her feelings, her choices, her wants,” Taehyung points to a finger every time he lists something of yours that Jeongguk overlooked, and Jeongguk shirks in on himself a little more each time. In his head, he sniffs, turns his nose up at Taehyung’s opinion.
 “Self-righteousness. You know a lot. You may even know more, and better than her about certain things, but not all things. You don’t know everything. Jeongguk does not know what __ wants. Jeongguk does not know what is best for ___. Jeongguk may have an opinion on it, but only ___ knows that. What you think is right, isn’t always what is right. Consider what you were coming off as. As a pretentious, arrogant, self-righteous ass. And for what?”
 When Jeongguk parts his lips to speak, to at least try and defend himself, because jesus fucking christ, Taehyung interrupts him. 
 “For nothing. You’re not the standard.”
 “Alright–”
 “Pusillanimity.”
 Jeongguk purses his lips and allows himself to be talked over, once again, as he shifts feebly in his seat. Wonders when Taehyung's vocabulary became so extensive and mean.  
 “You’re allowed to feel scared, but you’re not allowed to behave like a pussy about it–”
 “I resent that–”
 “–as you should,” Taehyung says without missing a beat, smoothly transitioning back to what he was saying. “You’re being a coward, Gguk. Like point-blank. Taking the easy way out and pushing her away because you’re too afraid to take a risk. Because you don’t have the courage to choose her and try.” His expression is sad, dressed with muted disappointment, maybe a glimmer of pity. “And I guarantee that when you chose easy instead of choosing her– it hurt her. She’s the one you were trying to take care of, but she’s the one you ended up hurting. And you hurt yourself.”
 Taehyung can see how much self-inflicted pain Jeongguk brought on himself when he hurt you. He’s sure it hurt him in the moment too, but retrospectively, it’s written so transparently on Jeongguk’s face. Brows are pinched, mouth slightly parted, shallow exhales puffing out like Taehyung’s words knocked the wind out of him and he’s trying to catch his breath again.
 He shakes his head helplessly, whispers, “I didn’t mean to.”
 “I know you didn’t, and I think she probably knows that too,” Taehyung consoles. 
 He considers leaving it at that, not wanting to come off more lecture-y than he already has. Feels a little bad about being so hard on the younger, too. But he also feels like Jeongguk has so thoroughly convinced himself that he did the right thing. That Jeongguk has done such a good job of gaslighting himself, that he daftly believes ending things with you was for the best. That ending wasn’t just the only conclusion, but it was an unavoidable conclusion. 
 Taehyung wonders if maybe Jeongguk is the one that needs things broken down and spelled out for him to get that he could have done things differently. That if he made alternate choices, there could have been an alternate ending where he didn’t break his own heart. 
 “Jeongguk, you’re a such great dad to Nari. She’s never going to doubt how much you care or how important she is to you because loving her is the thing you're best at,” Taehyung waits just a second before he adds in a gentle voice, “But you’re not just a really great dad, and you’re allowed to prioritize and love other things… other people.”
 Jeongguk starts to shake his head, an argument on the tip of his tongue. Ready to tell Taehyung that of course he’s allowed to love other things and other people. He knows this.
 That wasn’t the issue with you. He knew that with time the desire he had for you likely would have blossomed into something more. If he chose to– he probably could have loved you. Could have kept you for himself, selfishly, just as he wanted to. He could have indulged in you, could have let himself be smothered in everything that came with you. He could have loved you eagerly, and he knows he could have loved you so perfectly. 
 Maybe. 
 With time, probably.
 If he was just a touch more greedy than he is, he might have allowed himself.
 The issue with you was that he got so immersed in and preoccupied with you that he lost sight of everything else. Let himself get distracted and act in ways that, as a father, he just couldn’t. So while he could have allowed himself to love you, he couldn’t allow himself to become irresponsible. He tells Taehyung as much. 
 “Gguk, that’s just what happens when you find something new to care about. It’s exciting and it feels good,” Taehyung explains gently, “You fuck up and end up making a few mistakes because you’re a little caught up and preoccupied. Your priorities get skewed because there’s something else that’s becoming important to you too, and you haven’t learned how to manage it.” 
 “And yeah, you might get selfish and a little consumed. Immersed. But that’s normal, not irresponsible, and you have to cut yourself some slack while you figure out how to make time for it and work it into your life.”
 There’s a glassiness gleaming in Jeongguk’s eyes, heavy tears welling until there’s just too many. The drops trek freely despite his efforts to keep them in, his cheeks sticky and salty, his nose runny and red, and his shoulders shaking as he attempts to stay collected. 
 It’s quiet and he stutters a little as he gets out, “I-it didn’t feel like this with D–” A deep, guilty shame makes it hard to get her name out.
 Jeongguk doesn’t even try to finish, persisting with, “I’m just s-scared I’m gonna fuck up again, like I did w-” A watery, frustrated groan cuts him off and he puts his hands over his face when he can’t finish his sentence again because of his cries. Like I did with Dasom. Like I’ve already done, and am still doing with you. 
 “Gguk,” Taehyung laughs, trying to lighten the mood, “There’s an adjustment period and it’ll take a bit of trial and error, but you’ll find a new balance.”
 “___ can be important to you at the same time that Nari is important to you at the same time that Dasom is important to you at the same time that you’re important to you. Caring about one thing doesn’t mean that you suddenly begin caring about another thing less. You just care about them in different ways.”
 Jeongguk is trying to compose himself, keeps taking those deep, slightly hiccupy, self-soothing breaths. Holding them in, before blowing them out harshly. Taehyung knows Jeongguk’s almost at his breaking point but he only has a bit left to say.
 “Maybe ___ didn’t know all of the stuff that comes with being with someone who has a kid, and an ex, and a past. Maybe she didn’t fully know what she wanted because of that. But you know what you should have done instead of pushing her away?” he asks gently, “You should have explained it to her. Told her the bad and the good. Because of course, it’s a lot; it’s really, really tough. But it’s also so rewarding, and a privilege.”
 Jeongguk is growing weepier with each passing minute, but he gives a sorry, sapped nod just to show Taehyung he’s listening. 
 “After explaining it to her, you should have given her time to think about it, weigh the pros and cons. You should have waited for her to make her own choice. Then you should have considered what would’ve been best for both of you, what would make you both happiest. From there, you should have decided on the next step together. And then you should have tried.”
 His leg is bouncing under the table and he twists one of the few rings on his fingers. He’s trying to keep his composure but the more Taehyung explains things to him, the more regretfully obtuse Jeongguk feels. 
 Because he very well might be all the things Taehyung said he was– but he is a good version of them. He swears it. And he knows it doesn’t really make sense; that it’s almost impossible to be a good type of entitled and self-righteous. That it’s not believable that his cowardly and pusillanimous actions came from a good place. But to him– they did. He knows what his intentions were, and he knows that they were so pure. That he did what he did because he cared about you. 
 Admitting he was scared, acknowledging that the fear he felt was pure cowardice, is the least he can do. 
 But in his defense, he just didn’t want to learn what it was to have you, just to end up losing you. He didn’t want to discover how it felt to be loved by you, only for that feeling to get replaced with your resentment. He didn’t want to wholly understand the bliss of you being with him when you were there and present, only to forget it once he came to understand the ache of you leaving; when you were gone. 
 Now, however, he sees that he fucked up. Can see how narrow-minded he was. How his actions, no matter the intent, didn’t come across the way he wanted. That the outcome didn’t go as he planned. 
 He’s able to recognize that if a plan can stray and an outcome can change– there can be infinite endings. Good ones, bad ones. Realizes that if pain is possible, so is bliss. Understands that sadness and happiness go hand in hand and that if there’s a chance for one, there’s a chance for the other. 
 It’s kind of black and white, all or nothing, one or the other in its own way. In a way that Jeongguk hasn’t fully grasped yet, but in a way that he wants to try and learn.
 The consequences of his actions and mistakes can be felt physically. It’s a visceral ache, an apologetic longing, an emptiness within him– and it seems like it never goes away. Like there’s this void inside of him that can’t be filled. Like an essential piece of him is lost and has gone missing, leaving a hollow vacancy behind his ribs until he finds it again. 
 He knows it’s melodramatic; that things end between people that care about each other, that they get over it, and that they move on. It happens all the time. Every single day. He knows– because he cared about Dasom, wanted her– and still, he watched his marriage fall apart right in front of him. 
 Jeongguk’s never compared you to her or her to you, and he doesn’t start now. But, he does liken the want; tries to differentiate between the way he wanted her and the way he wants you. 
 Because it’s the same feeling. Want. 
 But it’s distressing; so confusing because he can’t wrap his head around the same fucking feeling not feeling the fucking same. 
 It almost instills an anxious uncertainty within him; causes him to question himself a little because he believed he had a good understanding of what it is to want, of how it feels to desire. An understanding of what comes with all the feelings that are akin, too.​​ What it feels like to lust after, to crave, to yearn for, to long for, to wish for.
 But apparently, he doesn’t.
 Maybe never did.
 Because it seems that the only thing he’s sure of now, when it comes to want, is that wanting Dasom didn’t feel like wanting you does. With you –the want, the desire, the yearning– it’s so different.
 Come to think of it, Jeongguk wouldn’t be surprised if that novel distinction played a part in his hesitance; that it had something to do with why he pushed you away, why he chose to never let himself have you. 
 Somehow, you turned feelings he thought he truly understood into feelings that had a sense of ambiguity to them. Feelings that he was suddenly so unaccustomed to that they seemed almost alien –in that anxiety-riddled self-doubting way– because it felt like he had no experience with them, had no idea how to even begin to approach the different that was you. 
 Taehyung told him he was being a coward. And Jeongguk admitted that yes; he was being a coward. Internally confessed that he was scared to lose you. But as things are falling into place, finally clicking for him, he thinks that the cowardice might have also stemmed from a fear of having you because he didn’t know how to. 
 Because while you were fresh and exciting –making Jeongguk so brash and so eager– that newness subsequently made you so unlike what he was comfortable with and sure about –simultaneously making Jeongguk so reluctant and so scared. 
 Only because different is new and it’s strange and it can seem alienating. Different is simply unfamiliar and anything unfamiliar is always a little, maybe a lot scary. Naturally intimidating and unnerving. 
 He comes to the conclusion that it’s not a comparison. The want. It can’t be, really, because he has nothing to compare it to. He’s never known an appetency as unique as the one he has for you. 
 The varying wants he’s come across during his life and relationships can’t be compared, but they can be different. And they so clearly are, that Jeongguk’s inability to make sense of it is almost embarrassing. His friend telling him that it’s possible for him to care about things in different ways comes to the forefront of his mind. 
 “You can… want things… differently?” 
 Jeongguk feels stupid, so thickheaded because he’s asking for assurance and clarification about concepts that are supposed to be common sense. He wonders when he let his way of thinking get so off-kilter and how many preventable fuck-ups he’s made because of it.
 “Obviously and most definitely.”
 The sheer amount of thinking he’s had to do, and the inordinate number of thoughts he’s had to comb through are taunting him with a headache. Dull pounding edging at his psyche; his mental and emotional capacity almost running on empty. Yet, he’s not sure he could shut his mind off even if he wanted to. 
 He’s on the cusp of it. So close to putting the pieces together. On the brink of figuring out the riddle of you and him that seemed cruelly unsolvable; like a sick joke with no punchline.
 Jeongguk knows that he wanted Dasom. He knows what they had was good, fulfilling, and comfortable in its own way. But in that same breath, he knows that while it may have been good, it was never blissful; that it may have been fulfilling, but it never made him feel full; that even though it may have been comfortable, it never felt warm. He doesn’t regret it, but he doesn’t miss it either. He doesn’t want it anymore; hasn’t for what seems like ages.
 When it came to wanting you– Jeongguk didn’t know until he learned. 
 Of course, he knew that what you had was good. What he didn’t know was the extent of how good. Only when he determined that it was so good that it was sublime and unlike any mirth he’d known before, to a degree that he’d never felt before– only then did he learn that what he had with you was bliss. 
 He knew it was fulfilling. That being with you gave him what he needed. Scratched the itch, fed the hunger, served the purpose that a ‘fun and casual’ fling was meant to. But he didn’t know being with someone could be so abundantly and satisfyingly rewarding; until he learned that the fulfillment could reach excess; that he could become so full of you that he was overflowing. 
 He knew it was comfortable– what you had with him. But he didn’t know being with someone could be so serenely content, dreamily domestic– that it could make the comfort become something he could physically feel. Not until he learned that you were the embodiment of comfort; that when he touched you, what he was looking for became tangible. That when he touched you, he was touching the warmth that lived inside of you. 
 He didn’t know humans could be homes until he learned that sensations could be envied. 
 He didn’t know he would regret it; didn’t know he would miss you so much. He didn’t know that the different, unfamiliar, scary want would turn into this habitual, heartsick, delicate yearning.
 Jeongguk didn’t know anything until he learned.
 And he’s learned that he wants to try.
 ~~~
 A rough, choked sound sputters from his throat when he feels a few heavy thumps on his back.
 “There, there,” a voice consoles lazily.
 Jeongguk promptly breaking down and melting into a puddle of tears after admitting he fucked up and wants to try and get you back is enough for a tipsy Taehyung to move from his place across the table to the unoccupied one to the right of the younger. 
 He’s able to peer inside now, his back no longer to the house, and he sees Jimin. He looks a little worried, a wrinkle between his brows as his eyes flit between Taehyung and Jeongguk, who’s got his head down as he cries into his folded arms atop the table. 
 He shoos Jimin, and now Yoongi with a knocked out Solmi on his hip, away with a dismissive flick of his wrist, giving them a look that says: I’ve got this.
 With fingers digging into the sides of Jeongguk’s neck, in a supposed to be soothing way, Taehyung asks, “So what’s the plan, Gguk? Whatcha gonna do to get her back?”
 Another weeping sob is the response he gets.
 He nods to himself. “Right.”
 It’s quiet for a small blip of time before Jeongguk whines, “She never answered my text. She could be dead for all I know, like she could have gotten into a crash or something and it would be all my fault and–”
 “Have you seriously not looked her up to check on her?”
 “–she doesn’t have Facebook– and I would just have to live with that. And I would deserve to live with it. The guilt–”
 “Of course, she doesn’t have Facebook. She’s not ancient,” Taehyung explains with a roll of his eyes as he pulls out his phone from his pocket, “She probably uses Instagram or something. How do you spell her name?”
 Jeongguk’s perked up, his red eyes and splotchy face now curiously peeking over Taehyung’s arm. He quietly spells your name out loud and watches as the letters appear one by one in the search bar. A few profiles get tapped through before Jeongguk’s small, sharp inhale lets Taehyung know he found the right one. He willingly hands over the mobile.
 The account is public, but Jeongguk’s not sure if that’s better or worse as he takes in what your feed consists of. There’s an assortment of things; pictures of yourself, some with your roommates, a few scenery ones to break up the monotony. One or two of the small succulent he gave you.
 There are also some of him. Of Nari.
 He finds his thumb moving on its own, tapping on a photo of tiny hands with tiny painted nails.
 “Don’t accidentally double-tap; that likes the pic and we’re using Iseul’s account.”
 Jeongguk chuckles. “Why do you let your 8-year-olds have phones and social media?” he asks, turning to look at Taehyung, who is still looking at your account. “What happened to playing outside and reading books?”
 “Times are changing Ggukkie,” Taehyung muses, “Landlines hardly exist and I want to be sure that they can reach me, you know? Besides, it has parental controls… If you look at Iseul and Haneul’s followed accounts, it’s all just video game stuff and anime shit…” It’s quiet for just a second before he adds, “They could probably give you some cheat codes and tips since you’ve been spending so much fucking time on the PlayStation lately.”
 Jeongguk’s bony elbow digs into Taehyung’s bony ribs.
 After a small wince, Taehyung asks, “That’s Nari?”
 It’s phrased like a question, but to them, it’s obvious that it’s her. But to anyone else, they would have no clue that the baby is his daughter. The photo was taken from a higher-up angle; besides the baby’s little manicured hands, it’s just her baby-soft, wispy hair pinned back by a teeny pink barrette, and the chub of her rosy cheek visible. He thinks he recalls the day you took it. 
 You had just shown up at his place. No invite, no scheduled plans. 
 When he opened his door, he saw you standing there with your too-small hands holding a too-full make-up bag, and a too-big smile on your too-pleased face declaring that it was the perfect day for a Spa Day. 
 You were determined, and you left little room to argue. He didn’t, of course. But he wouldn’t have either. Not when you were right there on his doorstep, practically buzzing with how excited you had been. You were almost giddy; just so happy and eager to spend time with not only him but also his baby.  
 Jeongguk remembers sneaking little glances at the both of you while he dutifully cut the cucumbers you had asked him to. You were sat on the floor, criss-cross applesauce, and Nari was on the couch in front of you. She had her chunky, stout legs dangling off the edge and her round, little toes right in your face. 
 Bubble Guppies was on the television, so Nari was occupied and mostly still as you painted her nails a bright shade of corally pink. Messing up only once or twice. Just when the baby giggled and clapped her pudgy hands and when she squealed and kicked her plump feet. 
 By the time Nari was put down for the night and tucked snug as a little bug in her bed, you and she were twinning; your salon-done acrylics repainted in the same polish. He remembers clearly because he helped you with your weaker hand. 
 Also because somehow, he ended up matching as well. Funnily enough, you had managed to get him to agree to a single finger of his being painted as well. The pinky on his left hand. 
 Persuasion might have been a talent of yours. Your charmed kisses convinced him, as well as your rapt, eager touches. The conniving sweet-nothings you recited into his ear, were compelling, too. 
 Yeah, maybe you were persuasive. Or maybe Jeongguk was just easy. Always too weak for you. 
 His heart yanks in his chest at the memory and he forces himself to pause the mental replay before it stops being pure and starts being indecent. 
 Jeongguk’s eyes flicker down to the caption.
 spa day 💁‍♀️💅🏻👶🏻🐛👨🏻‍🍼
 He feels the slight shake of Taehyung’s body when he chuckles next to him, and the corners of his own lips turn up too as he opens the comments.
 flickthebinna: did u have a baby? 
ocstagram: not yet… 🤨🤰
flickthebinna: ?
 Heat crawls beneath his skin and his cheeks flush pink and Jeongguk can’t stop the clumsy, confusedly pleased laugh he lets out as he clicks back to your feed. 
 Despite the next picture he taps on being bleary, it’s evident that you’re in a car and that there is a palm resting on your thigh. 
 The car belongs to him, the familiar interior lights of his Mercedes glowing purple in the photo, the luxury logo on the steering wheel too well-known to be mistaken regardless of the quality– or lack thereof. So naturally, the hand on your leg belongs to him, as well. But like the photo of Nari, no one would know who’s hands are on you or who’s the owner of the car you’re in. Except for the person themself. Even the tattoos on his knuckles are indecipherable due to the poor resolution. The picture looks like it may have been taken on accident or while you were moving– grainy and pixelated and motion-blurred. 
 It’s captioned with a simple, eloquent: SKRRRR
 “What does that mean?” Jeongguk mumbles aloud, moving to the comments again.
 Taehyung hums next to him. “An onomatopoeia for the sound a car makes, I think.”
 He grunts in acknowledgment as he reads.
 jadedjade: that is a sugar daddy car if i ever seen one 🕵️‍♀️🧐
ocstagram: he’s not my sugar daddy 🙄🤚
ocstagram: he’s my best friend 😌👍
flickthebinna: ok but can he fight 
 Jeongguk finds himself smiling again, but this time it’s a little sad too. It was posted just a couple of months ago. Reminds him that regardless of how drawn out it feels like it’s been, in reality, you haven’t actually been away from him for that long at all. Makes him recall how quickly something good can go bad.
 “Alrighty!”
 The cellphone gets plucked from his hands by Taehyung, who’s sensed the change in ambiance. “I think that is enough checking in for tonight,” he says.
 Jeongguk doesn’t put up much of a fight, instead sighing and looking towards Namjoon’s place again. He’s not sure how much time has passed, but inside he sees it’s been long enough for the group to wind down. Almost everyone gathered in the living room, something playing on the tv. Probably one of the many Christmas movies that get played far too soon after Turkey Day. Hoseok’s got Nari on his lap, and one of the twins tucked into his other side.
 “I’m surprised Nari’s still awake,” he muses.
 “You know she’s fighting it, trying to hang with the big kids.”
 “Gonna be very grouchy in the morning,” Jeongguk groans. The annoyance is feigned though, and the smile in his voice gives him away.
 Taehyung laughs lightly for a moment before he’s yawning, his words jumbled and rolled together he tries to get out, “I’ll pull your Secret Santa name; let me take her for the night.”
 Jeongguk is an expert at understanding hard-to-decipher words, so he knows what was said and is quick to say no.
 “C’mon,” Taehyung presses, “Just for tonight. She’ll be fine, and you could use some time by yourself.”
 “I have time by myself every other week.” 
 “Touche…”
 It’s quiet for a couple of beats before Jeongguk is saying, “The answer is still no, but why do you think I could use some alone time?” 
 With shoulders brushing his ears, Taehyung shrugs. “You just worked through a lot of tough stuff. The alone time could be a good opportunity to sort through everything.”
 Jeongguk hums. 
 “You could start thinking about what you’re going to do about ___. What the first step is, what you’re gonna say.” 
 Taehyung takes a second to look at Jeongguk’s profile. It’s quick, and the latter attempts to keep his face neutral, but the tense way the corners of his lips pull down isn’t missed.  Jeongguk can’t mask the hesitant unease, and Taehyung has enough social awareness to pick up on it and know that it probably means that Jeongguk might not be ready for that just yet.
 “Or… Or you could… cry yourself to sleep?” he tries. He thinks for a split second before he decides to run with it. “I know you’ve like– been crying, but if you were alone? You could really let go, you know? Wouldn’t have to hold back like you’ve been trying to.”
 Taehyung is met with an expression that is not only unconvinced but also unamused. 
 He is nothing if not resilient, though. “Or you could even jerk off to that video you have of the both of you! You could moan, Gguk. Loud.”
 “Oh– I don’t– the video um, I haven’t–” Jeongguk sputters, trying to deny the use of said video. His hands waving to and fro a bit, hectic. An uncomfortable tinge to his features.
 It’s true, though. He doesn’t use it. Hasn’t even once since the fight. He figures he might as well delete the video. It makes sense, especially if he doesn’t watch it. Figures it should have already been deleted. That would have been the right thing to do. Figures he’s only human, too.
 “I did not ask, and I do not want to know. Nor do I care,” Taehyung interrupts, “Just think about it, though. A loud, lewd, lascivious, lecherous jer–”
 Almost like he forgets his momentary embarrassment, Jeongguk’s expression veers straight from uncomfortable to unbelievably judgemental. If the look on his face could speak, it would be telling Taehyung that he is stupid. “I can literally jerk off –loudly– 2 weeks out of the month. Are you daft?”  
 “Intelligence is subjective,” Taehyung’s bony fingers flick outward dismissively, “But my insistence is not! C’mon, don’t be selfish,” he pouts for emphasis, “If I take Nari tonight, I can use her to get the boys to sleep early. Can pull the old ‘baby’s bedtime is everyone’s bedtime’ card.” 
 Jeongguk presses his lips firmly together, fighting a smile, but they quirk up at the corners in spite of himself. “You’re a bad dad.”
 Taehyung grins back, mischievous. He makes his voice stern and comically parental. “ ‘We all have to sleep when the baby sleeps. We don’t want to wake her up and ruin her dreams, do we?’ ”
 They laugh softly together before it naturally dies off, the atmosphere back to being more or less mellow and light. 
 “I know you, Gguk,” Taehyung starts, “And I know that you don’t need a break. But I also know that a break wouldn’t hurt. Might even do you some good. Sneak away now while she’s occupied,” he encourages, “You know she’ll cry if you say bye.”
 Jeongguk frowns as he feels himself giving in. Admitting that he is tired. Considering that it might be nice to be able to go home and head straight to bed without the time-consuming dad routine. He loves it, of course, and he’ll miss doing it– but after the night he’s had? He feels a little bad but tries to soften the guilt by thinking about what Taehyung said. The thing about him being important to himself, too. 
 He looks back to the house again, eyes scanning till they land on his baby. She’s slumped, clearly tired and he thinks she may be asleep already but then Nari yawns, a tiny balled-up fist coming up to rub at her eye.
 Jeongguk smiles, soft and wistful. Before his brows are furrowing and he’s turning back to his friend with an appalled, accusatory glare. Taehyung’s previous heartfelt advice coming to mind reminds him of something else his friend said. Something less heartfelt.
  “Wait– the video? How did you–?”
~~~
The feel of his bedding brushing against his skin makes him shiver. Causes frissons– excited little chills blooming all across his body. He kicks, trying to maneuver the sheet down and down until it’s off of him. Repeats the actions once more but with his briefs, now. Down and down until they’re off of him and he’s bare.
 Jeongguk’s home is quiet. A little cold. 
 This time, it’s the brisk, air-conditioned draft in his bedroom that creates those chills. The bumps are small, just barely raised. Could only be seen by someone who looked at him closely enough; felt by someone who touched him aptly enough. 
 His exhales are stuttered and sharp as his body trembles; the constant tremor is faint, almost imperceptible, and caused by the lust simmering just under his skin. His lashes kiss the highs of his cheeks as he blinks his eyes shut; a worthless attempt at grounding himself. His lips grow damp as the pink of his tongue darts over them quickly; something he naturally does when he gets worked up like this.
 His thoughts are running rampant as he thinks about all the unintentional things he’s doing, all of the visceral reactions he’s having. About those bumps on his skin. 
 Jeongguk thinks about how the restless waver of his breathing and the overwhelmed fluttering of his lashes and the antsy way he’s licking over his lips and the minute, barely-there texturing of his skin– how all of those things are just little ways that what’s inside of him is coming out; how it’s becoming. 
 It shows how intense and how keen the arousal stirring within him truly is. So charged and carnal that it’s emerging as actions that are eager and visible; as reactions that are hot and tangible. So real it can be seen; touched.  
 Going straight home and straight to bed– that was Jeongguk’s intention. He swears it; swears he was just so tired. Swears that he almost bypassed doing his skincare and brushing his teeth completely in favor of succumbing to tiredness. Swears was so truly drained from the night and from how much he ended up missing you, thinking about you. And from how, at some point during the night, missing and thinking meshed until they blurred into exhaustion. 
 Sleep was supposed to have been instantaneous. As soon as he laid down in his too-big, too-empty bed inside of his quiet, cold home– he was supposed to have been down for the count. 
 But his home is as lonely as it is quiet.
And lonely people do lonely things.
They think lonely thoughts that are actually just memories of times when they weren’t lonely at all.
Jeongguk doesn’t think he ever felt lonely with you.
And he wants you as much as he misses you.
His fingers shake with it as he finally wraps a hand around himself. Cock laying flat on his tummy, heavy and hot. It’s dark in his room, but he’s flushed probably. Leaking definitely. 
 The tip of his tongue swipes over his lips again before he nibbles on the inside, contemplative as he rubs his index finger on the wet head, teasing. Pulls the plump of his bottom lip between his teeth completely; makes a conscious effort to stay aware enough to not gnaw them raw. But in the back of his head, he knows it’s for naught. When he wakes up tomorrow it will be with red bitten lips and a guilty conscience. 
 Hell, Jeongguk’s guilty now.
 Everything about him depicts it. 
 His mannerisms are already cloaked in shame and it’s only just started.
 From the way he turns his face into his shoulder when he finally completes that first, full stroke. Foreskin dragging when his hand goes from tip to base. The soft thump of the outside of his fist hitting his lower belly sounds so loud– vulgar in the hushed space. 
 To the way he squeezes his eyes shut so tightly that small white spots begin to come and go in the dark– as if he thinks he might be able to block out all of the sordid things he’s imagining if he tries hard enough.
 Twisting on the upstroke has him rolling his lips between his teeth before he ends up parting his mouth and voicing the softest, most sweet-sounding sighs. The lilting breaths are pretty and whiny even to Jeongguk’s own ears and he feels himself grow warm with a flush. 
 When the tip of his cock spits out a few heavy drops of precum so soon, he gets almost flustered. His demure, wanton sighs quickly shift to meek, bashful whimpers.
 Because it’s embarrassing. Just how fast the mere thought of you gets him going; so hot and so bothered. 
 The pace of his palm is fast, pumping up and down the length of his cock. Instinctually chasing that high as slick clicking noises get louder, audibly mixing with his moans, the rustling of his movements. The first hint of that telltale heat flickers in his lower belly faster than he expects and faster than he hopes. 
 He doesn’t want it to end already. Reasons that if he’s going to give in to this again –into getting off with nothing but the thought of you to finish him, into stomaching the consequential regret that comes after he cums– he wants it to at least be worth it. Wants to milk it and make the pleasure last as long as possible. 
 So he clings to his last bit of self-indulgent resolve. Takes his hand off and moves it away. 
 Precum’s just pouring from the slit when his cock snaps back to his tensed belly; leaking enough that the pink head makes a lewd slap when it hits his skin. He’s hard enough that the tip rests just below his belly button. 
 Jeongguk lays still for a few, letting the needy ache in his gut settle as he puffs out soft pants. Trails his nails lazily over his skin; a gesture that taunts him as much as it gets him ready. Warming him up for his own touch again.
 He’s sifting through his memories of you when he gives in and allows himself just a few small squeezes over his length. His grip tight and pulsing. Not quite edging, but… playing. Indulging maybe; sating moreso. 
 Trying to take the edge off just enough to prolong the pleasure and drag it out as he thinks back to the time he got you off with just his hand in your panties, his fingers toying with your clit. 
 It was sleepy and slow, soft in the way that morning playtime always was with you. Him returning the favor; taking care of you after you took care of him. 
 Started with him quietly reminding you of how good you made him feel the night before. Him sweetly kissing praise into your still-warm-with-sleep skin. Finished with you rocking into his touch until you came quietly for him. You remembering to thank him after, your words whispered sweetly in an airy, far-away tone.
 Jeongguk begins to stroke gently then. Just lightly touching with only his fingertips as he thinks some more. Until he ends up lingering on the first time he had you. 
 The memory prompts another shame-riddled rush to surge through him. He recalls how he braced himself on the newly-decorated wall behind him when you pressed your hand against him, his hips rutting and grinding into your small palm. How the wall supported him while he finished so quickly, too quickly. How it held him up while he came, making such a mess in his pants. 
 Recalls how you had to brace yourself on the same wall when he got down on his knees for you and tasted your cunt for the first of many times, his lips sucking and his tongue licking. How the wall supported you, just like it did him, while you squirmed so impatiently, so greedily. How it held you up while you came, just like it did him, making such a mess of him all over again
 The paint on the wall behind you had barely had enough time to dry. Was wet still on the opposite side of the room. 
 The opposite side of his daughter’s room. 
 God, it’s sick. So perverse and deviant and just wrong, but there’s something to say about how badly he must have wanted you. How terribly he must have needed you to take you like that, in that setting. 
 Then Jeongguk’s letting go. Letting his thick, engorged length drop to his abdomen.
 The heavy way his cock flops back down when he eases the tension in his hold– it doesn’t really hurt… it’s not exactly painful when it thumps against his tensed tummy again. It feels more like a muted, dull pang in his cock. Almost pleasant? It feels good if anything– but the general sensation reminds him of a time he ached. A time when his cock actually did hurt. 
 It’s the time he had you at his work, against his desk. After you had him in his office chair. 
 Jeongguk can’t stop his cock from kicking and twitching when shivers run down his body– it’s a natural reaction, mostly. Kind of like how his hands going up to tweak his nipples is mostly a natural reaction, too.
 You had asked him before– if there had ever been a time when he was too worked up, if he’d ever felt so good that it became too good, if you could be the one to make him that way. It was an offhand, spur-of-the-moment comment; he figured it was just dirty talk. Nothing more than racy words spoken to turn an already heated phone call into one that was even hotter. 
 So he went along with it and told you that no, he hadn’t ever been too worked up or felt too good. Humored you and promised that yes, the first one to ever make him feel so good that it was too good, too much, could be you.
 Then the phone call ended, and he hung up, and he pretty much forgot about it
 Until now, that is. 
 Something’s got him stuck on that conversation and something’s got him linking it back to that time in his office. 
 He wonders if maybe that wasn’t just you ‘getting back at him’ for the work party because you were ‘mad at him’. Wonders if making him ask permission, getting him to beg, riding him till he came, not stopping even after he did… was really you trying to live out the phone call. 
 Was that the first time he felt so good that it was too much? That it hurt?
 But as soon as he entertains the possibility, he has second thoughts. Reconsiders and thinks about how that might have been nothing. Yeah it was too much, and it hurt, but he has no clue what you meant by wanting to ‘take care of him’ or ‘have your way with him’. That time in his office could have just been the beginning, just you going easy on him, barely anything.  
 A soft moan he can’t hold back colors the air.
 What would have happened if he hadn’t been able to break those cuffs and get the upper hand back?
 Would you have kept going? Was that your intention all along? Did he ruin your plan when he got his hand around your neck? What would it have felt like if you had just kept going and going and–
 Jeongguk must have subconsciously moved his hand from toying with his nipples back to stroking his cock because he doesn’t remember choosing to do so. But he doesn’t correct himself and he doesn’t stop either because he’s jerking his cock fast– just as fast as his heart is pounding and it feels so nice. So fucking nice that he thinks it’s gonna make him cum.
 And he wants to cum, but he knows he wants it to last more.
 So he tries to keep himself together with a tight squeeze at the base of his cock before he pulls his hand away. His cock throbs, jumps slightly before pulling tight to his belly.  
 He’s worked up so he’s squirming a little and taking deep breaths that come out a little shaky. His hands are shaky too when he brings them above his head to tug at the pillow underneath him just to keep them off of his body.
 Would it have just kept hurting? If you had kept going? Would it have just kept getting worse until it became too much? Or would it have started to feel good again? Even better maybe? 
 Jeongguk’s fingers dig into the down of the pillow, and he turns his head into his arm trying to muffle his whine. His hips pull down, dipping into the mattress before slowly rolling into the air, into nothing. The breaths he pants against his bicep are hot, and when he sinks his teeth into the meat of it he does it hard enough for it to hurt just a hint.
 Because fuck– he doesn’t think he’s ever been this affected. 
 Sure he’s been horny, worked up, turned on. Whatever. 
 But bucking into nothing? Whining like he’s in heat? Trembling and leaking and entertaining things that had never even crossed his mind before? 
 No, he’s never lost himself in lust enough for that to happen.
 It seems there’s a first time for everything, however. 
 And maybe that’s what it is. Having a first with you. Trying something new for the first time, learning new ways to please, and make each other feel good. You being his only experience, and him being yours. Knowing each other in ways that nobody else does. 
 There’s a newfound urgency to the way he makes a move for his cock again. A flawed clumsiness to the way his fingers stumble when they get caught on his sticky skin due to his haste. An almost inexperienced awkwardness to the way he fumbles when can’t seem to get a good grip on himself due to his eagerness. 
 Because the way his heart starts pounding faster in his chest, and the way he has to grip at the base of his cock and keep himself in check again is so telling and oh, he’s so sure that’s what’s got him like this. Sweaty and wanton, antsy in his too-big, empty bed with one hand pumping his dribbling cock, and the other reaching between his legs to palm at his balls, his fingers reaching down farther to press and rub against his taint. 
 Yeah, he was worked up before; his memories of you enough to get him hard and panting. But they weren’t enough to shake that guilt. 
 When he started to wonder, though? When he got curious enough to flirt with the idea of you being the first one to make him feel so good, that it was too good, till it was too much? When he began to fantasize about it? That’s when he got shameless. 
 As soon as he cums, so will the guilt. That’s a given and he’s well aware. But right now, the want is making him feel almost feverish, depraved and he’s touching himself with hands that are so greedy, so self-serving. Unblushingly selfish for his pleasure as he imagines it’s you touching him.  
 “Ah– nngghhh, fuck–” he gasps, but it’s soft. His voice breathy and faint.
 In his head, you’re being a little mean. Your hand on his cock is loose, teasing, and lazy. Giving him just enough to feel like he needs to cum, but not enough to make him cum. 
 “It’s okay,” you tell him, “you can use me, make yourself cum…”
 It sounds sweet because it’s you, but even that is laced with something snide. It’s almost mocking. And his head is spinning because it mirrors so many of the times he’s had you, but it’s so different because right now, in his head, you’re the one that’s deciding, controlling. Telling him when its okay to cum, how to cum, letting him cum. 
 His fist is loose, just like yours is in his head, and he fucks up into it, his foreskin dragging with every push and pull. The fingers of his other hand are still toying with his hole, grazing the cinched muscle every time his hips rock into his hand, but he’s trying to mimic the way he thinks you would play with him; his touch deliberately gentle, a little curious. 
 When he’s just rocking his hips, the rhythmic brushing over his taint and his hole is teasing. But when he starts to get eager and needy and begins fucking his hand faster, the sensation is almost constant– feels so good paired with his thrusts, his thoughts.
 And Jeongguk’s gonna fucking cum. So close after all the teasing and edging and playing with himself that he’s done– its inevitable, now. His balls pulled tight and his cock rock hard in his hand. Wet and drippy and swollen and so sensitive.  
 His body is so tense that he’s shaking, his sweaty chest flushed and heaving stuttery inhales as he works for it. 
 “Oh my god– please–” Jeongguk pleads softly with himself, his body. You. His voice is laced with a desperation he’s never heard before. 
 The burst of precum that shoots from the head is enough to know that he’s there, that he couldn’t stop it now, even if he wanted to. He feels that pull in his lower belly, and his cock fattens up even more, gets even harder and Jeongguk knows its flushed such an angry shade of pink. And fuck it’s such a steady build-up. When he thinks it feels good it just gets better. 
 “Yes, yeah–” he pants.
 Jeongguk’s mouth parts in a small ‘o’, and his brows knit together and his eyes are squeezed shut so tight and if he concentrates he can picture you– can visualize your tiny hand wrapped around him bringing him closer and closer. Can imagine how focused you are as you go between looking at his face and his cock. Can almost hear your voice in his ear when you tell him that he was so good, that he can cum.
 He’s able to get out a choked, “Cumming, I’m cumming–” before finishes. His body convulses, curling in on himself a little more each time his cock jerks, shooting hot, thick stripes of white up his abs. His orgasm gives him that spacey high, makes him almost lightheaded from how satisfying it is. 
 But lately, getting off is nothing if not a routine. 
 Jeongguk feels a very specific and familiar type of heaviness as he pats around to find his briefs, does a half-assed job of cleaning himself up with them. Then he moves to the other side of his bed where the sheets are cooler and not damp with sweat. Cuts the routine short with a dry-swallowed sleeping pill. 
~~~
hey... long time no see... am i right... anyway yeah im probably knocked out w a sleeping pill too right about neow bc i am sooo scared about posting this :)) gah v nervewracking i must say... ik it was a bit wordy but i just rly wanted to explain why jk did what he did n his thought process for it n yeah </3 hoping to have part 2 (oc pov/reconciliation <3) out in the next couple weeks, am like halfway done w it....  anyway i rly hope u liked it!! pls pls pls like, reblog, comment, send an ask if u did~~ eager to know what u guys thought n would love to hear from u okayyy bye! 
5K notes · View notes
thefishermansharbor · 10 months
Text
The main 6 as parents!
The arcana x GN!Reader (TW: Mentions of pregnancy, reader is GN but hinted at being pregnant in Asra's chapter, light cursing.)
Asra Alnazar:
Again, someone who prefers adoption. A lot like Muriel, his past trauma of being an orphan on their own in  aplace as dangerous as the Vesuvian docks made him want to be an open and safe place for children. 
If you do get pregnant though, he turns to his mother. She’s experienced it - she might know what to do to in order for him to make it easier for you. He’ll research spells to lessen pain and morning sickness, and stuff like that. 
He would love to give them a name dedicated to your love - for example, a combination of your names, or he might name them after some place special to the two of you. 
Asra is a pretty chill parent. He’s not too bothered about what they do, as long as it’s safe and makes them happy. If they do get in trouble, he’ll use non-violent and pretty lenient punishments. Ex : Taking a toy away for a few hours, making them sit in time-out, etc. 
He wants his kids to be free - spirited and do what makes them happy. Even if this makes his kids go for what might not be the safest option, he just wants them to feel empowered.
As a new parent, one can’t help but feel scrambled. Asra is no exception. Dealing with a newborn baby is not for the worried - or faint of heart. It’s especially not for those who don’t do well with little sleep. 
This is what led him to his parents. He knocked on their door, hoping they’d come quickly. He didn’t know how much longer of his son’s screaming he could take. His mother opened the door, surprised. 
“ .. who could it be at this hour.. Asra?” Aisha rubbed at her eyes, trying to rub the sleep away. “ .. what are you doing here, baby? Come in,” 
He sighed, “ Sorry to bother you, mom.” She ushered him inside, “ It’s alright, hunny.” It took her a minute to register everything, she noticed the baby only once he’d gotten inside. 
“ .. How’s ___? Are they keeping alright? How’s–” The realization hit her like a truck. “ oh my god! Did they go into– is that..?” He nods, and she bursts into tears. 
“ Oh, Asra! You’re a father, you’re.. I’M a grandma! Before he could blink, Aisha wipes her tears. “ What’s it’s name?” 
“ His name is Jordan, mom. He’s– a week old,” 
“ why didn’t you tell me sooner, Asra?” She sighed.
“ I’ve been meaning to but things had come up and – well, I need your help.” Asra scratched the back of his neck. 
“ Of course! What is it?” 
“ .. how do you make a baby stop crying? I’ve tried everything.”
She laughs. “ give him to me.” 
Asra hands her the baby, and as if it’s magic – Jordan stops crying full stop. He actually goes to sleep in Aisha’s arms. 
“ H-how’d you do that?” Asra’s face with a mix of impression and surprise. 
“ .. Grandma magic, hunny.” She winked, 
Lucio Morgasson:
He has it rooted in his mind that children have to be biological to be the perfect ‘heir’ to Vesuvia. He’d push for it to be that way – but if you really wanted to adopt, he’d be just as an enthusiastic parent no matter what. 
Lucio wants a larger family but to be honest, he wouldn’t be able to handle more than one kid. 
If you adopt, he’s fine with adopting any age. If you get pregnant, he’d only give the best for you. He always has the finest made for you, but even more so. Although he, personally, isn’t much help - the castle staff are on higher guard and listen to you much more. 
He’s totally a girl dad. His daughter wants him to wear a tutu and tiara? Goddamnit, he’s wearing one. 
He’s a fun parent but he does what he wants - and his kids follow that. He doesn’t feel the need to be patient, or act in benefit of his kids. He’s really chaotic, and doesn’t recognize that he should be nurturing his kids, not partying with them. 
“ Daddy! Daddy!” Lily shouts, grabbing his pant leg. He looks down, and smiles. “ There she is! What is it, silly-lily?” He tickles her face, and she giggles. 
“ Auntie Nadi taught me how to paint my nails!” She confidently shows off some poorly done pink nail polish. He does a mock gasp and claps, “ they look amazing! Anyways, you were saying..” 
“ Can I paint your nails, daddy? Pretty please?” She gives him those puppy dog eyes he can never say no to. He wasn’t too bothered about going to the event on Vesuvian finances, spending time with his daughter sounded a lot more fun. 
“ Sure.” 
That’s was all he needed to say. She flipped open a bag, and took several colors out. “ Which one do you want, daddy?” He surveys them, and chooses a deep blood red. 
She paints carefully.. But a 6 year old can only paint so well. It’s messy, but she tried her best. Even though it’s messy, Lucio seems pretty happy with it. Valerius passes by, and notices it. 
“ My count.. What are you doing?”
“ Getting my nails painted, obviously.”
Valerius rubbed his temples, “ My count, you cannot be serious. No one will take you seriously with that mess on your hands..” 
Lucio furrows his brow. “ How dare you suggest that this is anything other than pure artwork!? I look absolutely FABULOUS. You are just too incompetent to recognize this pure beauty!” He winks at his daughter, who’s staring at him in awe. Valerius walks off, too tired to deal with Lucio. 
Julian Devorak:
He personally would like to have biological kids. There’s really no reason for it, he just wants it and knows, being a doctor, that he can handle a pregnant partner well. He’d also want to have multiple kids, because his relationship with Portia is really good and he’d want his kids to have that experience too. 
If you prefer to adopt, he would try and convince you to have biological children, but if you really didn’t, he wouldn’t keep pushing it. 
He’d want to name one after Portia. She was what kept him alive at one point, and he knows that she’s special and deserves it - so as long as you’re fine with it, he wants that to happen. 
He would be the authority parent. Definitely the “ just wait until your father gets home,” and he’s fine with that. He’s a very tactile parent otherwise, and is very sweet with his children. 
Once they get to be older, he does try and embarrass them a bit. But it’s all in good fun and he doesn’t mean to really offend them. 
He sighs, happy the long day of work is over for him. He jingles his keys in the door and walks through the entryway of your shared home. “ I’m home!” He shouts. 
Two little kids come instantly running in from the living room. A little girl with bouncy brown curls hugs his leg, and a slightly older boy runs right up in front of him. 
“ papa! You’re back!” The girl says, the boy nods. “ You’ll never guess what we did today!” 
“ oh, really?” He says, taking his coat off. You walk through afterwards, sighing and smiling at the two of them. 
“ Pasha, Ivan! Let your father get in the door.”
“ but ___! He’s been gone for agesss…” Ivan complains, “ yeah! And we have so much to tell him!” Pasha chimes in. Julian ruffles Ivan’s hair, and then tickles Pasha’s chin. “ It’s alright, dear. I love the attention,” You roll your eyes, leaning on the doorway. He walks over and kisses you on the cheek, before his hands travel to your back and he kisses you on the lips. 
Your daughter looks away in horror, and your son boos. “ Ew, you guys! Stop, that’s nasty!” 
Julian chuckles and steps back, you put your head on his shoulder. 
“ – well, tell me about your day then, kids.” 
He ushers them both into the next room, and you can’t help but smile and get that warm and safe feeling in your heart. You love them.
499 notes · View notes
wolfjackle-creates · 11 months
Text
Bring Me Home, Chapter 2 Part 3
A little shorter this week. I had my graduation ceremony over the weekend and the opportunity to hang out with my sister-in-law for the first time in a few months! (She and my brother moved states a few months back.) If you scroll down a bit, you'll be able to see how I decorated my graduation cap! I love how it turned out.
But you don't care about that. It's Wednesday! Time for a WIP Wednesday segment!
Story Summary: Tim and Danny are both neglected by parents who care more about their work than their families. They deal with this by spending too much time online and find each other playing MMORPGs. They keep up their friendship as Tim becomes Robin and Danny becomes Phantom and don't bother keeping secrets from each other.
First, Previous
Word Count: 1k
----------
Unable to get Tim’s attention, Conner asked, “Who’s Technus?”
Danny shrugged. “One of my rogues. Tuck thinks he’s the ghost of Nikolai Tesla. He’s interested in controlling all technology and will make himself a giant mechasuit cannibalized from any electronic he can find in, like, a half mile radius. Super annoying.”
Tim hummed. “You didn’t tell me about him being Nikolai Tesla.”
“It’s a new hypothesis of Tuck’s. He’s been trying to research all the ghosts that come through as part of our profiles on them. That involves trying to figure out who they might’ve been in life. We’re hoping it’ll help me deescalate confrontations to cut back on property damage. Thanks to my parents talking about how evil all ghosts are, no one trusts Phantom and I get blamed for everything.”
Tim reached out and squeezed Danny’s shoulder. Practically everything Danny ever said about his parents made him like them less. To change the subject before he learned something else that’d make him want to attack Jack and Maddie while they were under the same roof, he asked, “So why does ectoplasm harm electronics anyway?”
Danny seemed to lean into his touch. “Well, ectoplasm is complicated. It is generated in this dimension but doesn’t really belong here. It comes about through death and leads the way to the Ghost Zone. At least… that’s the hypothesis I think is the most likely. I’ve only really been studying it for a few months since my own accident, though.” He shook his head. “Anyway! When it interacts with things on Earth that aren’t trying to get to the Zone, things get weird. Especially with non-sentient things that can’t will the ectoplasm to act in a specific way. Even animals can exert some control over ectoplasm. But electronics can’t.”
It was only a few minutes more before Danny had completely disassembled the phone. He then grabbed another pipette and adjusted the volume and added ectoplasm to certain pieces. Then took a third size and did it all over again.
“How on earth did you find out how much to add?” asked Bart. “You’re changing quantities constantly.”
“Trial and error. Long and tedious trial and error. We tried dipping sections in the ectoplasm to start, but that generally fried the tech and mutated its function. Wires do do best with submersion, though. No more than a second or two for small ones. Even after we stopped submersion, we started by adding way too much—spreading it over the entire chip. But that also didn’t work. Realized just half a microliter applied to the connections was best. The camera, speaker, and microphone need more. Those get ten microliters apiece. And we just kept trying different amounts until we had something that worked. We ruined four phones before we started testing each component individually.”
Conner let out a low whistle. “Well we’re glad you have. Thanks for helping with this.”
“Of course. Anything for Tim.”
Tim’s face heated as Cassie laughed. “Yeah, our Tim has a way of winning people over, doesn’t he?”
“I think I won him over, actually.” Danny hung the pipette back up on the holder. “All right, now just to put this baby back together. Who’s hungry?”
“Me!” called Bart. “It’s been ages since we’ve last eaten.”
“You’ve got an accelerated metabolism, right? We’ll stop by a store and get some extra stuff if you need anything overnight or tomorrow.”
“I like you,” said Bart. “You should come with us when we leave. Join our team.”
Tim buried his face in his hands, did none of his teammates know the definition of subtlety? Offering Danny a place with the Teen Titans or Young Justice was the first thing he tried.
“Thanks for the offer, but as I’ve told Tim, I can’t leave Amity. No one else is capable of responding to ghost threats.”
Conner shook his head. “Looks like your parents have it under control.”
Danny laughed. “Oh hell no. They’ve got a lot of inventions and most of them do something. But it’s not always what they expect them to do. And dad’s aim is terrible.” As he spoke, he continued to reassemble Tim’s phone.
Tim couldn’t help but admire how expertly Danny’s fingers moved over the pieces. And before he knew it, Danny was handing the phone back to him.
“Should work now. Turn it on and double check.”
Tim took it and held the power button until the WE logo appeared. Sure enough, once the screen loaded, so did a dozen missed phone calls and even more missed texts.
Bruce, Dick, and Barbara had all attempted contact multiple times. Even Alfred had called once. He winced and immediately called Bruce back.
“Hey, B,” he said as soon as the call connected. “We’re all fine. Just crossed an area that messed with our tech.”
“How did it mess with your tech?” Bruce demanded.
“It’s normal in this area. But I’ve a local friend and he fixed my phone. He’ll take care of Conner’s, Cassie’s, and Bart’s after we grab some dinner. So if anyone else is worried, tell them we’re fine and they can call me in the meantime if they have questions.” Tim made sure to use civilian names so Bruce would know they were no longer in costume.
“Who is this ‘friend’?” asked Bruce.
“God, B, it’s fine. I’ve known him for years. We game online together when we can. Have since we were kids.”
“Hn.” Why was it so much harder to read Bruce over the phone than in person? It was so annoying. “I see. Where are you currently?”
“We’re in Illinois. Will probably stay here a day or two with Danny and his parents. And then we’ll come home and share everything about our trip.” Aka, submit an official report about the outcome of their mission.
“Very well. I expect to know all the details. And I want twice daily check-ins until you’re home.”
“Fine, fine. Will do. Bye, B.” Before Bruce could demand anything else, Tim hung up on him. Next he shot texts to Dick, Alfred, and Barbara assuring them he was fine and his phone was working again. Replies came instantly and he ignored them all. “All right, that’s done. Let’s go eat.”
---------
Next
I think this is the first time I've had an actual scene break to stop the segment at. I usually just go until I see a change in the conversation, but I've got my <hr> marker at this point and there's gonna be a scene change! (So I won't have to repeat a paragraph or two next time I post.)
You get a different explanation for ectoplasm in this fic! Wasn't planning on that, but it happened and I like it.
Hope you enjoyed.
Tag List Part 1
@gremlin-bot, @bonebrokebuddy, @britcision, @lady-time-lord-, @welcometosasakiworld, @akikkobara, @phoenixdemonqueen, @dolfay, @skulld3mort-1fan, @we-ezer, @markus209, @sjrose1216, @onyxlightdragon, @dragonsrequiem, @jesus-camp-the-sequel, @spidey29phangirl, @kyrianclawraith, @evilminji, @introvert-even-on-the-internet, @emergentpanda-blog, @lexdamo, @v-inari, @idontgetpaidenoughforthisshit, @longlivethefallen, @undead-essence, @xye-chan, @liandrin, @seraphinedemort, @kisatamao, @schalensitzbucket, @caelestisdreamer, @runfromthemedic, @nutcase8691, @channajen, @tonicmii, @ambiguouslyominous, @vythika96, @addie-lover-of-stories, @ironicvixen, @violetfox2, @pickleking8, @mysticalcomputerdetective, @ark12, @mygood-bitch99, @squirrel-wolf, @satisfactionbroughtmeback, @sometimesthingsfallapart, @automaticsoulharmony, @d4ydr34min9, @revnantdpxdclover, @midigeria, @raginblastocyst
509 notes · View notes
hundrkottr · 6 months
Text
🌿 Trauma Based Identities 🌿
There are a number of causes for our non-human identities. The most common being spiritual, but also imprinting. So now, what is a trauma based identity? And how could it cause one to have a psychological theriotype?
A trauma based identity is basically an identity that was formed because of, or in relation to, trauma. Especially during childhood/adolescence. At a young age, we are still very much developing mentally and emotionally. Our minds are going through so many changes, and our environment has an incredibly big impact on that. Early life trauma is part of that environment, and therefore, can literally make changes to your beain chemistry and how it develops. So how does this have to do with therianthropy?
Well, if a child experiences trauma or abuse, their minds may unconsciously seek some kind of coping mechanism. And this coping mechanism CAN cause them to develop a non-human identity. Especially if they feel detached from other humans who are the source of said trauma. Often time, the animal they may imprint on will be in their environment. Perhaps a pet, or a wild animal they see on a regular basis. It can be an animal or being they've been exposed to through media, like; movies, tv shows, books, games, etc. It can also even be a toy they have of said animal. Regardless, the trauma can make such a development occur.
//Imprinting can also be in relation to the trauma based identity. As a child experiencing abuse and neglect may imprint on the animal around them, rather than the humans that cause them harm, or hurt them.//
Some may argue that "this isn't a theriotype, its a coping link!". But you are wrong. The definition of therianthropy, is to identify as an animal, or have an involuntary non-human identity. A copinglink is a CHOSEN identity you chose to CONSCIOUSLY cope. If the trauma based identity is NOT chosen, and develops without voluntarily chosing so, it IS a VALID therianthropic identity.
I think it's important for people to be aware that such identities exist and are incredibly valid. They can be tough, but it is part of our development.
🌿 My Trauma-based Identity 🌿
Ever since I was a baby I've gotten a lot of traumatic experiences. I was consistently abused and neglected. I won't go into detail, but it was really hard. And I deal heavily with the affects today.
I never felt loved, or safe. But we did have cats in our household all the time. And I learned love from them. The cats never hurt me, never scared me, never screamed at me. All they did was show me love. They made me feel seen. So, as a toddler, I imprinted heavily on them. I ate their food, bathed like them, crawled around like them, meowed, and even used the litter box on several occasions (i know it sounds extreme but as embarrassing as it is, i did..)
My parents regularly punished me for acting like a cat, but I never stopped. And I continued seeing them as my true family.
I imprinted on them and it became a permanent mental development that would follow me through all of my childhood, my adolescence and early adulthood.
Thinking of why this identity developed makes me sad. But it also makes me grateful, because i dont thing the young, autistic and traumatized lil child I was would have made it otherwise.
I go through periods of questioning and denial. Because this identity makes me feel a lot of repressed emotions. But maybe this time i can accept it again. Ill do it at my own pace though. ♡
Thats all! Hope this helps others with trauma based identities. Know that you are valid. And you are seen. If ever you need to talk about it, im here. My DMs are open. I may not be online all the time, but Ill respond.
Tumblr media
272 notes · View notes
frenchkisstheabyss · 7 months
Text
| ❤️ | The Headless Horseman | ❤️ |
Tumblr media Tumblr media
| Pairing | boyfriend!woozi x fem!reader w/ a cameo by fanboy hoshi
| Summary | Your secret identity as a street racer is exposed when your boyfriend's best friend, a superfan of yours, unknowingly drags him to one of your races.
| Genre | fluff w/ an eyedrop of angst
| Word Count | 2.4k
| Warnings | drinking, kissing, general adult situations
| A/N | @rainisawriter put in a request for this specific storyline and theme ages ago so love you forever for waiting 10 years for me to get my life together and finish it. I know you wanted something fun so I went for it. Hope you like it!
Tumblr media
“Come in. Sit. Sit. Sit” Hoshi insists, gesturing toward the couch he’s had Woozi trapped on for the past five minutes. Grabbing your beer from the coffee table, you flop down on the couch beside Woozi, throwing your legs across his lap. “What’s his deal?” you tilt your head to whisper into your boyfriend’s ear. Woozi wraps an arm around you, bringing you into one of his infamously cozy hugs. “It’s the street racing thing again. Something about a headless houseman.” “Horseman!” Hoshi corrects, pacing the floor in front of you.
This is as excited as you’ve ever seen him and, as amusing as it is, he’ll set fire to your carpet if he keeps pacing like this. “Alright, alright. Take a breath and tell us about this Headless Hou..." "Horse, baby” Woozi whispers, resting his head on your shoulder. “Horseman.” Hoshi stops in his tracks, waiting for one of you to poke fun at him. When neither of you does, he sits down on the edge of the coffee table, leaning in a bit like an older brother about to torture his siblings with a scary story. 
“Okay, so, she’s…” “She?” Woozi interrupts, “I thought it was a man.” “Yes, she!” Hoshi continues, “She was the best street racer in the underground. They called her the Headless Horseman because she always wore a helmet to hide her identity. No one and I mean no one has ever been able to figure out who she is.” For a fleeting moment, the playful expression on your face turns to one of panic. It’s a blink and you miss it kind of panic. The guys blinked. They missed it. But your sweaty palms and racing heart didn’t.
“So...what? You plan on solving the mystery?” The question comes out sharper than you intended. “You’ve always been good at things like that” you add, attempting to soften the impact. “Oh,” he smiles, surprised but flattered, “Thank you but no. I’ve tried though. She was my favorite for a long time. Still is. I’ve never seen anyone drive like that before. It got to the point where most guys hated racing her because she was unbeatable.”
“What happened?” Woozi asks, more invested in the tale than he anticipated. 
“Hmm?”
“You keep saying ‘was’ like something happened.” 
Hoshi’s eyes widen, “Yeah, well, uh, she disappeared.”
“Disappeared like died?” 
“Disappeared like into thin air. Some people thought she died. Others thought she just quit but there’s been talk...” “Of?” you ask, fiddling with the rose quartz ring dangling from the silver chain around your neck. It was a gift from Woozi for your birthday that you never take off for anything. You reach for it whenever you need comfort and it's never failed you even once. “A comeback at tonight's race. That something happened to bring her back and now the Headless Horseman will ride again.”
The way that he tells it, this really is starting to feel like a horror story. Especially for you. The only one here with something to hide. “I was thinking of going to check the race out and I thought...” “No” you and Woozi groan in unison. “No?” “No” Woozi repeats, “I’m not going with you to an illegal street race to chase an urban legend. What if it gets raided? My baby’s too pretty for jail.” You can’t help but blush, kissing him on the cheek, “No, you’re too pretty for jail.” Woozi starts to blush too and the overload of cuteness makes Hoshi want to vomit.
“You guys never wanna do anything fun” he pouts, “It’s one race.” Getting up from the couch, you stretch your limbs, letting out a yawn. “The threat of jail time aside, I’m exhausted so I’m heading to bed. Why don’t you boys go find something safe to do?” You glance back and forth between the two of them, making it clear that your question had, in fact, been an order. “Yes, ma’am” Hoshi mumbles, forcing a smile when you pinch his cheeks.
You lean in to give Woozi a goodnight kiss and his arms are around you again, nearly dragging you back down onto the couch. He’d come crawl into bed with you if he could but he’d feel bad leaving his best friend hanging and you’d never ask him to do that. “Goodnight, my love” you sing, skipping off to the bedroom. “Goodnight!” Woozi shouts down the hall, his eyes lingering where you once were. Hoshi takes your spot on the couch, batting his eyelashes at Woozi, “Goodnight, my love.”
Tumblr media
A part of you, every part of you if you're being honest with yourself, feels bad for keeping this from your boyfriend. He’s your best friend. Your partner in crime. You share everything. Everything but this. There was once a time when racing was the only way that you could feel alive. When you weren’t behind the wheel, burning down the winding roads the local cops were too corrupt to monitor, life felt empty. If the only thrill you could get had to come from risking your life you were willing to do it but falling for Woozi changed all of that.
With him, you felt genuine love for the first time. He made colors brighter, melodies sweeter, and food more flavorful. You finally had something that made you love your life without putting it on the line so you quit and never looked back. At least not until an old friend came asking you for a favor. Keeping your identity a secret was no small feat. Your success relied heavily upon the few women you'd grown close to on the scene.
One in particular, a fellow racer, was as sweet as could be but had a gambling streak that got her into trouble more often than not. Her most recent run-in was with a new racer. One just as good as you were. Some might say better. She put her car up against his and lost it. A man with an ego impossible to satisfy, he would’ve happily raced her again just to see her suffer. There was no way she’d beat him though, she knew that, but you could. You could’ve turned her down. Maybe you should’ve but it's too late for second thoughts now. 
Your opponent’s heavily modified muscle car screeches to a halt beside yours at the starting line. He winks at you, blowing a kiss, “I’ve heard a lot about you sweet thing. You’ve got quite the reputation. Too bad I’m gonna have to ruin it.” The roar of the crowd, hundreds of people gathered around for the return of a legend, drowns out whatever he says next. “Hey!” your friend shouts, tapping the hood of your car. When you turn to her she jiggles your seatbelt, and checks that your helmet’s secure, “Kick his ass.”
The flag girl dips between the cars, taking her position just beyond the starting line. You grasp the ring around your neck for good luck before taking one last look at the smug face of your opponent. Kick his ass? Not a problem. 
Tumblr media
Pushing his way to the back of the crowd, Woozi holds his phone to his head and listens as it rings once, twice, three times. Hoshi sneaks up on him, snatching the phone away. “What are you doing?” Hoshi asks, ending the call and holding the phone up out of Woozi’s reach. He’s tempted to try to grab it but, with this height difference, it’d be a waste of energy. “I told her we were going to Mingyu’s place. I have to let her know there was a change of plans.” “Oh my god, you’re so whipped.” “At least I’m not single” Woozi snaps, “Now give me my phone!”
The tearing of rubber against pavement sends clouds of smoke into the night sky, drawing the immediate attention of everyone around them. “Look, she won’t care that you came with me. She’s not like that but she’ll kill you if you wake her up. So just relax and have fun” Hoshi begs, “I’ll tell her it was all my fault. I promise.” As much as Woozi hates to admit it, Hoshi’s made several valid points, the most important of all that you’d rip his head off if he woke you up. “Fine. Whatever.”
“Yes!” Hoshi yells, dragging him back to the front of the crowd just in time to see the cars disappear down the road. At first, Woozi struggles to get comfortable. Hanging out at the edge of an abandoned highway after midnight wasn’t on his 2023 bucket list for fun things to do. As time goes on though, he finds himself having fun, knocking back drinks, and meeting some of Hoshi’s other friends. The adrenaline that pumps through the drivers during lap after lap bleeds into the audience, into him, and he understands now why Hoshi gets so pumped to come to these things.
As the end of the final lap approaches one car closes in on the other. It’s so close, we’re talking splitting hairs close, and then it’s not at all. The Headless Horseman picks up an unreal amount of speed, flying past the other car and ripping through the finish line. A celebration erupts amongst the masses who bet in favor of the Horseman while the few who didn’t prepare for financial ruin. It doesn’t matter to you either way. You’re so high off the thrill of being behind the wheel again that everything around you exists only as a blur of color.
As you make your way out of the car, smiling faces come to congratulate you. Shaking your hand. Hugging you. Patting you on the back. You rush them along, desperate to find yourself an isolated corner where you can get this helmet off before you suffocate. “Horseman!” Hoshi cheers, cutting in front of you before you have time to escape. It can’t be. You must be hallucinating. It really is too hot under this helmet. “So nice to meet you. You were amazing! This is my friend---” he rambles, pulling Woozi over by the collar, “It’s his first time.”
In the old days, the mafia used to put cement blocks on dead bodies before they threw them in the ocean to make sure they didn’t resurface before they became fish food. The sight of your boyfriend standing in front of you makes you want to run but the invisible cement bricks hardened around your ankles won’t let you. You’re fish food. “Hi” Woozi waves, his cheeks rosy from one too many drinks, “You did really well out there.” “I, uh, thanks,” you say in a high-pitched voice, attempting to conceal your own.
Like magic, the weight lifts from your ankles and you start to make a run for it only you aren’t moving. Something else is holding you back, a hand around your wrist. Woozi’s hand.  “Where’d you get that?” he asks, eyeing the ring dangling from your neck. You pull away again. It’s no use. He won’t let up. Hoshi takes a closer look at you, the gears turning until it clicks, “No way. I can't believe it. This is just like in those spy movies. Are you a spy? Wait, don't tell me! No, tell me!”
Ignoring his best friend's enthusiasm, Woozi digs his phone out of Hoshi’s pocket and dials your number. There’s nothing you can do besides stand by as the ringtone you personalized for him sounds in your jacket pocket. The tightness in your chest is unbearable. This is how you die. You pop your helmet off, tossing it to the ground. Woozi pours his drink out beside it, his brain too scrambled to add another sip of vodka into the mix, “I’m too drunk for this.” 
Tumblr media
Waking up the next morning you find the bed empty and your house quiet enough to hear a pin drop. You’d come home separately last night. You in your car and Woozi in Hoshi’s. Actually, when you stop to think about it, you aren’t sure Woozi came home at all. From the looks of things, he hasn’t. His keys aren’t on the nightstand and his shoes aren’t by the front door. The usual scent of him cooking Saturday morning breakfast doesn’t fill the apartment and… 
“Aah!” you scream, tripping and falling onto something soft. Well, someone. The body of your severely hungover boyfriend is stretched out on the kitchen floor, keys in hand and shoes still on his feet. Carefully rolling off of him, you make no attempt at getting up from the floor. You just lay there, staring at the ceiling, feeling as vulnerable as you ever have. “Where am I?” he mumbles, wiping the drool from his cheek. He lifts his head up, squinting to look around the kitchen before lying back down.
“You okay? You need anything?” you ask, knowing how tough hangovers are on him. “From you or the Horseman?” “Really? Is that how we’re handling this?” “Last I checked I wasn’t the one living a double life.” You can’t even argue with him. He’s right. If you found out he’d hidden something from you, no matter how small, you’d be irritated too. “Why didn’t you tell me?” Sitting up, you bury your face in your hands, letting a symphony of frustration spill out. “It’s a part of me I wanted to bury. I only dug it up to help a friend” you admit, “I was afraid if you knew it might change how you see me.”
Woozi sits up, releasing a few pained groans of his own, “Change how I see you? Nothing could ever change how I see you. I need you to trust me enough to believe that.” “I do. I just…I get in my own head sometimes and I don’t know. I’m so sorry.” Woozi kisses you, the lingering sweetness of some late-night snack he must’ve eaten coating your lips. “It’s okay. Apology accepted…under one condition.” You perk up, prepared to do whatever it takes to make things right, “Whatever you want. Just say the word.”
Leaning back against the refrigerator, he makes space for you to sit between his legs, “Tell me everything from the start.” “Everything?” you ask, sliding over to him, “Well, it all started when…” You lay your head on his chest, gearing up to spill every detail of your origin story, only to be met with the sound of light snoring. You contemplate waking him up but decide he’s in need of some rest and, with Hoshi no doubt on his way to make you tell this same story all over again, you let yourself drift off with him, figuring you do too if you plan to survive that.
Tumblr media
214 notes · View notes
satubby · 4 months
Note
Hei! Thsi is my first time requesting, i hope this is how it goess..?? Can you please do Platonic Yandere Denji + Platonic Yan Aki w/ touchy reader? (hugs,clinging onto arm) etc. ^_^
[I am glad to hear! Of course, although I will make it a bit short because I still need to adapt well to Denji and Aki's personalities, I need to assimilate them to understand them]
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Since you were a child you have been kind and stubborn, having to deal alone with problems beyond your age, it was when you met this child: He was dirty and ragged, he cried when his knee was scraped, from there he was your first of many helps you gave him. Thus began your friendship, you gave him food and love.
❀.°• ─ ─ ─ ─➢When they were children and he met you for the first time, Denji thought you were an angel fallen from heaven. He had never known kindness and affection from another person before. Since then he vowed to protect you from harm, so that you would never lose that warm smile. The one that made him feel so special, even though he sometimes got jealous when you gave the same smile to animals and acquaintances. ❀.°• ─ ─ ─ ─➢You used to feed him a lot, of that he wasn't wrong, you really were kind. Then when the pochita incident happened, he got depressed at first, he didn't know what his purpose was now until he saw you in the middle of the chaos…. You embraced him. ❀.°• ─ ─ ─ ─➢Now that you are both demon hunters, Denji always makes sure to fight by your side on every mission. He couldn't bear to see you hurt. If he ever noticed you were in danger, he would instantly transform into Chainsaw Man to defend you, no matter what price he has to pay (We already saw how crazy he is to the point of enduring the pain of severed limbs or wounds). ❀.°• ─ ─ ─ ─➢He loves the moments when you can rest together. He loves the way you stroke his hair when he is resting on your legs, he feels like a baby in your arms. He is comforted just by your presence. Sometimes he even falls asleep imagining the life they could have if the world wasn't plagued by demons, how Onee-san/Imouto would call you and you would congratulate him on graduating from school…. even though he has never gone. ❀.°• ─ ─ ─ ─➢He always watches you from afar to make sure you're okay. If he notices you're sad or stressed, he'll go out of his way to make you laugh again. He hates to see you suffer. His biggest motivation is to see you happy and protected, even as a small favor for teaching him the basics. Things like reading or writing his name, giving you love….
❀.°• ─ ─ ─ ─➢On nights when he has nightmares of the past (or pochita's death), he seeks refuge in your arms. He knows that with you he is safe and that his inner demons cannot reach him. You are his only home in this world where he is not seen as trash or something usable. ❀.°• ─ ─ ─ ─➢Denji would be very sad and worried if he noticed that you put your safety before his. Like all those times as a kid when you helped him hunt demons because he wanted to return the favor by making you money. ❀.°• ─ ─ ─ ─➢He would flatly refuse to let you participate in any mission that involves risk. He'd rather deal with demons by himself than see you in danger, if it's still mandatory for you to go, then he'll do everything for you. ❀.°• ─ ─ ─ ─➢If you try to protect him by risking your life, he may panic and get out of control. Only the sound of your voice would calm him down. He would spend sleepless nights thinking of ways to make you understand how vital you are to him. He can't bear the thought of losing the most important person. ❀.°• ─ ─ ─ ─➢He may call out to you in agitation, teary-eyed, begging you not to act so recklessly anymore. Seeing you hurt is his worst nightmare. ❀.°• ─ ─ ─ ─➢If the situation were extreme and you were at high risk, he would probably stand between you and danger even if it meant harming himself. He would a thousand times rather suffer himself than see you suffer.
Denji would give anything to ensure your well-being and protection. It is very difficult for him to see you deliberately put in danger for his sake. You are what he loves most.
When Aki passes away in front of his eyes, Denji's heart shatters. It is too much for him to bear so much pain.
But then he remembers that you still have light by his side. He runs to find you, knowing that only you can calm the hurricane inside him.
He finds you crying too for the loss of the friend, so he hugs you tightly as he lets out all his pain in a sea of tears. Gradually, as he feels your comforting caresses on his back, the sobs subside.
"I am no longer alone…you are here with me" Your presence is like a balm to his broken soul. You kiss his forehead repeatedly, Denji still inhaling that scent that means 'home' to him.
"Thank you…for never leaving me. You are my strength, Onee-chan." Denji knows that as long as he has you by his side, he can get through any adversity. You are his grounding cable.
When Power sacrifices herself, Denji returns to seek refuge in your arms. Despite the disgust he feels with himself, you embrace him with a motherly warmth.
"You are not weak…you are only human. And we humans feel, we suffer, and we rise again." Your words heal him inside as if they were balm. With you he feels understood.
Denji would give anything to protect that smile that saves him when he needs it most. You are his safe harbor, his reason to go on.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Since Aki has met you, you have shown nothing but friendship and kindness, even if he is initially reluctant to open up to you… Given his experiences in this bloody world where lives are lost.
❀.°• ─ ─ ─ ─➢Aki always admires you as someone strong and trustworthy. Although he sees Himeno more as a superior, he sees you as a sister due to the proximity of your ages, he admires your leadership skills and your wisdom in difficult situations. After a hard day hunting demons, Aki finds comfort in your kitchen. You make sure he eats well, take care of him and Himeno. Food becomes a way to bond as a makeshift family. ❀.°• ─ ─ ─ ─➢When Aki has nightmares about losing his family, you let him spend the night with you so he doesn't have to be alone. Waking up to your smiling face soothes him. Over time, the nightmares become less frequent. Aki picks up some of your best habits, like taking breaks and not overworking himself, as you warn him. He begins to take better care of himself thanks to your influence. ❀.°• ─ ─ ─ ─➢You help Aki train and improve his sword skills. Fights with you push him to hone his skills, while providing him with a fun outlet for stress. Aki comes to see you as one of his most formidable opponents. On days off, you and Aki enjoy relaxing activities like going to the arcade or having picnics in the park. Simple pleasures help him feel like a normal young man again from time to time. Knowing that he can always count on your support gives Aki the courage to follow his path, even in his darkest hours, to the end. ❀.°• ─ ─ ─ ─➢Aki always feels more comforted and secure wrapped in your warm hugs after a stressful mission. He likes it when you wrap your arms around him protectively, especially if he was injured.
"I'm fine, don't worry," he would say even though deep down he knows it's a lie and can't see your silly face, yet he ignores that pain in favor of being comforted by your presence and care. He affectionately calls you "Imouto/Onee-san" or simply your name in a sigh of gratitude. These moments of tenderness make him feel that there is still goodness left in the world. ❀.°• ─ ─ ─ ─➢Aki tries to repay you for the great favor you do by feeding him and taking good care of him all this time. He gained culinary skills by watching you in the kitchen and now loves to cook for you, just to see your smile when you taste his dishes. "I hope you like it," he would say eager for your opinion. When he manages to surprise you with some special treat, he feels rewarded for hours of practice. He wants the chance to take care of you too, even if it's in the kitchen. ❀.°• ─ ─ ─ ─➢Aki sometimes gets a little jealous when you spend too much time with other people, as if they might steal you away from him. He knows it's ridiculous as he trusts you completely. But he can't help those possessive feelings for the one he considers his family. Try not to be obvious with his jealousy and trust that you will always come back to him, as you have done unconditionally so far. ❀.°• ─ ─ ─ ─➢Aki's greatest fear is losing you too. If you are in danger, desperation overpowers him and he will do anything to save you even if he has to face you. "Don't risk yourself like this, please. I couldn't bear to see another loved one go," he would plead with tears in his eyes. You are too important for you to give your life for his. He will fight by your side but never at your expense.
The noise of the battle around us faded. All Aki could see was your pale face in his arms, your eyes narrowing as you struggled to breathe.
"No… please don't." He whispered through his tears. "Don't leave me too."
You took his hand in yours weakly, trying to smile. "I'm sorry… I made… a promise… to protect… all of you…"
"Don't say that!" shouted Aki, pressing your body against him. "You'll be fine, you'll see! Just… hold on, please"
You shook softly. "Take care… of the others… Ani/Otouto… Keep… fighting"
"Don't you dare die!" He sobbed, leaning down so that their foreheads touched, "You're the only good thing I have left…. I can't lose you to."
Your eyes slowly closed as you caressed his cheek. "I'll always… be… with you… Ani/Otouto"
With your last breath, Aki roared in pain to the sky. You lay motionless in his arms, a faint smile on your lips. From that moment on, a part of Aki died with you.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
111 notes · View notes
melanielocke · 9 months
Text
Book recommendations: queer adult SFF
Tumblr media Tumblr media
It's been a while since I did one of these posts but I'm thinking of doing more regularly. I have read a lot more new books that I hope some of you will pick up and I've made another selection. I'm reading more and more adult SFF lately because lots of YA is getting a little too young for me. But I also find that transitioning to reading more adult can be difficult, and it's not always easy to find what you're looking for. I found YA a far easier market to navigate, so I figured I'd make a post featuring some of my favorite adult SFF books.
The Unbroken & the Faithless I read recently.
This is a trilogy, with book 3 coming out most likely in 2025? Not sure actually. The series focuses on Touraine and Luca. Touraine is a conscript in the Balladaire army, stolen from her homeland and trained to fight from a young age. She is originally from Qazal, a country colonized by Balladaire, but doesn't speak their language or understand their customs. In the first book, she returns home for the first time since she was taken, to stop a Qazali rebellion.
Luca is the princess of Balladaire. Her parents both died when she was young, and her uncle is ruling as regent, refusing to allow her to be crowned Queen until she proves herself. She too is sent to deal with the Qazali rebellion. What makes Luca interesting is that she often means well and is definitely more benevolent towards the Qazali, but she's also very power hungry and wants her throne, and no matter how much she does to help the Qazali she is still the princess of the empire that colonized them, and the author continues to hold her accountable for her role in the empire and some of the choices she makes.
Luca is also disabled, she injured her leg when she was young and uses a cane.
There is a sapphic romance between Luca and Touraine. It is not really the focus on the series but at the same time it is what shapes much of the negotiating between them since Luca has a very obvious soft spot for Touraine and Touraine has to use that to improve things for Qazal.
The world is inspired by North Africa and French colonialism (in Balladaire they speak French so I'm pretty sure they're supposed to be France), and the author themself is Black and North African. The series as a whole is very political.
Next is Notorious Sorcerer by Davinia Evans
This is the first in a duology (I think?) with book 2 coming out this November.
This is set in a world where there are four different planes, and Siyon is a poor man who can delve into the different planes to get ingredients for wealthier alchemists. He wants to be an alchemist himself but can't afford the education. There's also the problem of magic being technically illegal, which means rich people can do alchemy but poor people can't.
Then one day Siyon accidently unleashes wild magic and is thrust into the world of alchemists where he wants to belong but doesn't. And there's also the matter of the four planes being instable and at risk of collapsing, and Siyon might be the only one capable of stopping it.
Siyon is bi/pan and his main love interest is a man, though this is not the main focus of the series.
Then Some Desperate Glory by Emily Tesh
I think I had this one last time too, but not enough people are reading it so I'm going to discuss it again.
Check out the summary, but honestly not sure if that does it justice. Some Desperate Glory is the story of a girl who grew up in a fascist cult and was raised to believe in everything this cult stands for.
The earth was destroyed before she was born, and the Majo, aliens, were responsible. Kyr has been training her entire life for revenge. She wants nothing more than to be the perfect soldier for earth. As a result, she is a terrible person and everyone hates her.
Kyr first starts questioning Gaea station when she is assigned nursery to have babies even though she is the best fighter in her mess. When her brother disappears, she teams up with his friend Avi, a queer genius who works with the station's systems and was always aware of how fucked up Gaea station is. They discover Magnus has been sent on a suicide mission and go after him, and Kyr is confronted with the outside world, including a Majo she grows close to, and has to unlearn everything Gaea station taught her.
This book has a difficult to stomach mc at first, though it is very obvious what she believes is not what you as the reader are supposed to think. But there is some wonderful character development going on in here. It's hard for her to change, and she's thrown into lots of difficult situations before she gets there, but in the end you can see she's nothing like the person she was before.
There's an amazing cast of side characters, though not a very big cast. There's her twin brother Magnus who never wanted to be a soldier and is actually very depressed, which Kyr never noticed. Yiso, the cute non binary alien Kyr develops a weak spot for even before she comes to realize Majo are people. And my personal favorite, Avi, who is an unhinged little guy who is way too smart for his own good. He's a great example of how a cult can affect different people in different ways. He doesn't believe in Gaea station like Kyr does and is aware of how fucked up he is, he experienced that first hand as the only visible queer person on the station. But he did internalize their messages of revenge and violence which plays out in interesting ways.
This edition is the Illumicrate edition of the book from April's box, which has the UK cover.
Witch King by Martha Wells is next
This is a confusing book for people who do not have a lot of experience reading adult fantasy. It has a lot of world building that is explained gradually, the book doesn't really hold your hand, so be prepared for that.
Kai is a body hopping demon. He has been betrayed, killed and entombed under water. When he is freed by a lesser mage hoping to hone his power, he kills them and frees himself and his friend, the witch Ziede.
Together, they have to uncover what happened to them, who betrayed them and what is going on with the Rising World coalition. He's not going to like the answers.
Alternating is a past timeline in which Kai and his band of allies rebel against the tyrannical rule of the Hierophants, which happened decades before the present timeline.
The strenght of this book is really in the characters and how they grow and the bonds they have with each other. I loved the relationship between Kai and Bashasa, who is the rebel leader in the past timeline in particular. It's not quite clear what the nature of their relationship was, though it is implied to be romantic and I do think Kai is supposed to be queer. He is a body hopping demon after all, and spends his early life in the body of a girl. There's also a sapphic side pairing between Zieden and her wife Tahren, who they spent much of the present timeline looking for.
The Dawnhounds by Sascha Stronach
This is a science fantasy set in a world inspired by New Zealand and Maori (I think? The author is Maori and a trans woman herself)
The main character is a police officer from a poor background who believes she's making the world better for people like her. She's already been demoted for being queer but believes she can make the police force better from the inside.
Then she's murdered by fellow officers and thrown into the harbor. Unfortunately for them, she comes back from the dead with new magic powers.
She teams up with a pirate crew with similar powers and has to stop a plague from being unleashed on her city.
This book focuses on how police functions in many modern societies to protect the wealthy and harm and restrict poorer, non white communities. The main character doesn't believe this at first but it's obvious to the reader that they're not helping anyone doing their job. Next book is coming out next year.
Last is the Jasmine Throne by Tasha Suri
Two books are out and book 3 is coming sometime in 2024.
This series is set in a world inspired by India. Priya is a maidservant with a secret. She is one of the few surviving temple children and still has some powers from being once born.
Malini is the princess of Parijatdvipa, the empire that conquered Priya's land. Her religious zealot brother has taken the throne and imprisons Malini because she refuses to be burned alive.
Priya is one of the maidservants sent to take care of Malini in her prison, which is the old temple where Priya grew up. Together, they can change the fate of an empire, but they can never quite trust each other.
This is a sapphic fantasy with magic but also lots of politics and I think if you like this series you'd also like the Unbroken and vice versa. I've talked about this one before but it should definitely be included on a list for adult fantasy.
I hope you can find something you like on here. All these books are not super well known and deserve a bigger audience
@alastaircarstairsdefenselawyer @life-through-the-eyes-of @astriefer @justanormaldemon @ipromiseiwillwrite @a-dream-dirty-and-bruised @amchara @all-for-the-fanfiction @imsoftforthomastair @ddepressedbookworm @queenlilith43 @wagner-fell @cant-think-of-anything @laylax13s @tessherongraystairs @boredfangirl16 @artist-in-soul @aliandtommy @ikissedsmithparker
208 notes · View notes
bloodynereid · 4 months
Note
can you do something with rooster/hangman/phoenix comforting a gender neutral reader after a really bad day?? like reader is freaking out and then they’re calmed down and just like softness and cuddles and care and love after?? it’s been a shitty day and i love my babies. thank you and sorry for a kinda downer request <33 - 🧚🏻
Bundled Up | headcanons
pairings: rooster x gn! reader / phoenix x gn! reader / hangman x gn! reader
tw: mentions of panic attacks, crying, fluff, cuddling, idk what else
description: your favorite people comfort you after a rough day.
a/n: hii 🧚🏻anon! i'm so sorry that i took ages to write this, i hope you're doing better <3 and enjoy this little thing i just whipped up. they are my faves too and this was so fun to write - i have to do more top gun stuff !
Tumblr media
BRADLEY 'ROOSTER' BRADSHAW:
If you had a rough day probably the first thing that he would do is just hug you. And by hug you I mean like full on bearhug you.
You would still be in work clothes, fighting tears as you pushed the door of the house open when he would just engulf you.
He would also stay there for as long as you needed him to. Eventually you would sort of pull away from each other but only for a few minutes as he would help you get settled in.
You would both be wearing the softest and most comfiest clothes imaginable as you settled into the couch.
He probably would have prepared some kind of warm comfort drink or a whole bunch of random comfort food when he heard you were having a bad day.
Bradley also had this kind of sixth sense when it came to you so he already had the perfect movie chosen out and ready to go on the tv.
You would spend the rest of the night chatting in between scenes and also crying a bit more… but you knew that you were safe around him and that he would always be around to help in any way he possibly could.
Also he would probably threaten (playfully) to hurt the person that annoyed you, you knew that he would never do such a thing - he’s just a big softie but it was the thought that counts right?
Tumblr media
NATASHA 'PHOENIX' TRACE:
Ok she would probably not so playfully threaten to murder a few of the people who annoyed you… including anyone that just looked at you wrong.
She’s a sweetheart to you though, after you had texted her to tell her you weren’t doing great she probably would have dropped everything and started to prepare some of your favorite desserts - she’s secretly a really good baker…
You might have arrived home fighting tears and the first thing that she would do is sort of just hold you and tell you to just let it all out.
You had been there through some of her worst moments so you sort of both knew how to deal when this sort of thing happens.
Nat would probably urge you to have a shower or maybe even made up a whole elaborate bath thing so you could relax. After you probably wouldn’t watch anything instead you would sit in bed and read your respective books with bodies entwined in comfort.
Nat was the best at giving cuddles and you would both be covered in mounds of blankets as you exchanged your favorite quotes.
You would fall asleep cuddled up close to each other as soft jazz music played in the background and the fireplace crackled from next to your bed.
Tumblr media
JAKE 'HANGMAN' SERESIN:
He probably would have driven a little too fast to pick you up from work but who cares about speeding rules when he needs to get to you? (please do care about speeding rules DO NOT ACT LIKE JAKE in this situation)
He would find you standing outside of the office fighting off an incoming panic attack and he would quickly know what to do. Jake would probably get you calmed down first before getting you bundled into the seat.
Throughout the whole ride back home he would probably be holding your hand and playing all of your favorite songs on the radio.
Jake doesn’t like other people to see that he actually has a heart sometimes - hence acting like an asshole most of the time but when he’s with you he knows he’s safe to just love you.
When you’re home he probably makes your comfort food for dinner and serves it to you in bed before cuddling in to watch whatever show you’re both loving at the moment.
Also FOREHEAD KISSES.
All that time in bed you would be enclosed in Jake’s arms and he would play with your hair constantly, something that eases you into dreamland quickly after finishing your wonderful dinner.
Tumblr media
love them sm <333
76 notes · View notes
whiskeynwriting · 1 year
Text
MBFD - Chapter Ten: Even When Apart
Dave York x Female Reader
Word Count: 5.9k
Warnings: 18+ (minors DNI)
Mentions of separation/divorce, reader descriptions, dirty talk, sexting, male masturbation, spanking, praise kink, mentions of oral (m and f receiving), unprotected vaginal sex.
A/N: soooo we planned out this chapter a hot minute ago, and expected it to be way longer. But I hope you enjoy it anyway my babies <3 I feel like having 14k chapters and then 6k chapters is a running theme in this series lmao
Also, sorry for the late post lovelies. But if you know me, you should know it’s a regular thing 😂😭
My Best Friend’s Dad Masterlist
Join My Taglist!
Tumblr media
“John,” He nods, walking down the hall. Just barely, the coffee in his to-go cup swishes inside, the contents still boiling. 
His coworker returns the friendly gesture with a smile on his face, asking briefly, “Dave, how’re the kids?” 
All he does is shrug, putting on a brave face. “Can’t complain.” But that’s the end of it. 
As he expected, life’s been shit since you left again. But he understands, he can’t exactly live at your apartment forever. At least, not yet. He has considered it, though. Over the past few days, he’s been researching homes, mainly condos and townhouses. It’s not likely that he’ll be sharing a home with Carol and his daughters for much longer, and maybe you’d be willing to move with him. But Dave’s waiting to bring all of this up. He thinks it will be best to do so toward the end of your trip. Which is in about… shit, three days. He can’t fucking wait. 
David is well aware that he’s living in a fantasy land. The two of you living together? Officially? It blows his mind to even think about it. At that point, Molly would have to know. There’d be no hiding it. But for now, he’s ignoring all of that. He’s choosing to bask in the peace you bring him. 
Settling in at his desk, he releases a heavy breath. Honestly, he doesn’t need to be here this early - he hasn’t needed to stay so late, either. But it gives him time away from the anxiety surrounding his family, and in turn, helps him relax. He’s good at his job and truthfully, figuring out how to quietly and expertly remove people from their own lives is easier than dealing with his current familial stress. It does, however, have one downside. It takes time away from you. 
“Oooh, who misses you?”
Immediately, you’re snatching your phone out of Angela’s hand, staring down at the screen to see the text Dave sent. Eyes widening, you feel a sense of heat run through your cheeks, and Molly notices, too. 
“It’s probably just Anthony.” Rolling her eyes, she moves into her next stretch, preparing for today’s warm-ups. 
“No, it’s not. I told you I’m done talking to him.” Trying to dull your annoyance, you turn back to your screen, smirking ever so slightly. He misses me? 
Frowning, Molly leans upright once again. “Well then who the hell is it?”
The quiet that follows seems to infuriate your closest friend, because she’s immediately trotting over to snatch your phone from your hand.
“Molly!”
“Miss you, princess.” She reads out loud, raising a brow. “How come I don’t know about this?” It’s easy to see now that Molly isn’t angry, she’s sad. She assumed you’d tell her about your next relationship. And all at once, the guilt you’d been pushing down for weeks bubbles into your throat again. 
“I, well, I just… I’m…” 
“That’s funny,” She cuts in, staring at the screen. “My dad’s name is Dave.” 
At first, you feel like an idiot. You really couldn't have changed his name? But as soon as Molly starts giggling, you release all your anxieties in one breath. 
“That’s so weird, is he my dad’s age, too?” She jokes, tossing your phone back to you while returning to her position. 
Chewing on the corner of your lip, you close your phone, shoving it into your backpack. “Maybe.”
“Wait, really?” Spinning on her heels, she darts back over, sitting on the floor in front of you. And a few other girls scooch in, too.
“Of course you’d be the one to go for older men.” Nora chimes in, causing you to turn your head.
“What? Why?” 
“Maybe it is Molly’s dad.” And now, everyone is turning to Lexi. “What? It could be!”
“Yeah, right.” Molly snorts, rolling her eyes. “Like that would ever happen.”
“It’s not her dad!” God damn, this is frustrating. 
“Whatever,” Molly groans, patting her hand on your knee. “Just tell us about him!”
Side-eyeing her, you grin, quickly glancing down at your hands. You almost can’t keep it in, your relationship with him. Not when everyone is so eager to know. Hell, you can do this, you can still keep this a secret. 
“Well… he is older. And, I don’t know… we’re still kind of… new.”
“Have you said I love you?”
“Well, yeah…”
“Awe! Wait, who said it first?” The girls seem ecstatic, but you can tell Molly is still pretty hurt. 
“Um… he did.” Your heart beats a little harder, thinking back to that night. 
“So it’s definitely not new.” Lexi adds with a few of your girls agreeing. 
“So, his name is Dave?” Molly inquires further, trying to ask the important questions. If you’re telling this guy that you love him, she should know more about him. “How did you guys meet?”
“Oh my gosh, what does he look like?!” Angela unexpectedly butts in. 
“We have a… a mutual… friend.” It’s all you could come up with. “And he’s tall, way taller than me. He has light brown hair and dark brown eyes…” Trailing off, you find yourself caught up in the thought of him. “He’s pretty strong…”
“You said he’s older, right?”
“Mhm,” Nodding, you shake yourself out of your thoughts. You just had an overnight trip with him not too long ago, you should be able to focus on your personal life. 
“Does he have a dad bod?” She’s grinning wildly, and now, every head is turned toward you. “Is he big?”
“Angela!” You scoff, still smiling. “Yeah, he has a dad bod…” Replying with a laugh, you turn away. 
“And?”
Raising a brow, you turn to face your teammates. “You think I’d be with him if he wasn’t big?” 
Everyone is giggling like little school girls, but Molly still can’t shake the feeling of being lied to. Why haven’t you told her about this? Are you not as close as she thought? 
“Go stretch!” You demand with a grin, shaking them off. “We have warm-ups in ten.” 
On the other side of town, Dave smiles down at his phone. Once you’d gotten a moment to yourself, you responded to him. I miss you too. 
He hasn’t seen your pretty face in days, not in person, at least. But he’s been thanking the lord for SnapIt. Wait, no… Snapchat? Whatever it is, it’s been his only way of actually seeing you. At home and in the office, he can forget about personal calls and video chats. But cute selfies and quick videos easily make up for all of that. 
“Jesus,” Giving his head a quick shake, he sighs, staring down at the video you just sent. 
You’re in the bathroom, the camera fixed on your reflection in the mirror. That smile lights up his entire life, and prompts his own to form, too. And while the short clip might seem sweet, it’s less than innocent. What you’re wearing immediately sets him off. 
“Remember this, daddy?” Comes your cute, girly little voice. 
With one hand on your phone, the other finds the edge of your skirt, twirling it slightly. Of course he remembers it, how could he not? The last time he saw you in your cheer outfit was when he came on it. 
His response is pretty simple, a picture of his work pants. Well, a specific spot on his work pants. With his hand holding his semi-hard crotch, he captions it with, think I’d ever forget? 
“Hey,”
“Shit!” Nearly jumping out of your skin, you turn, seeing Molly. “Oh, h-hey, hey Goof.”
She smiles sheepishly, “Texting Dave?”
For a split second, your eyes widen. But then you remember, she now knows your boyfriend’s name. How… strange. 
“Um, yeah.” It comes out as an awkward chuckle, quick to close your phone and put it away. 
“I… I was wondering.” Staring at the floor, she swallows, unsure of how to start this conversation. “Why haven’t you told me?”
“About Dave?”
“Yeah.” She nods, finally returning her gaze to you. “Did I, I mean… have I done something wrong?”
“What? No! No, not at all, Molly!”
“It’s just… I don’t know. You’re already saying I love you to each other, and… I just don’t know why you wouldn’t tell me about it.” 
Jesus Christ, what the hell are you going to tell her? Is this when it happens? When everything just comes out? When your insides spill out of your mouth like word vomit? Every single secret you’ve been hiding, now rushing to the surface?
“Honestly,” Laughing away your anxieties, you shrug. “I thought you’d think it was… too fast. After Anthony.” Okay, that was good. That was smooth. 
“Really?” Raising a brow, she shifts her stance. “I hate that guy. You being with literally anyone else is better than you being with him.”
You chuckle, eyes wandering. Not anyone else.
“I don’t want you to feel like you have to hide things from me.” Shrugging, she steps closer to you. “That’s all.”
Offering your best smile, you wrap her in a big hug. “Thanks, Goof.” 
And you want to stay true to your friendship, you don’t want to lie to her. There are days where you’ve thought about the outcome of your secret relationship, and it’s really torn you to pieces. In the end, you figure it’s best if she doesn’t know. Maybe it’s best if she never knows. 
A few buzzes from your phone end your brief moment, with Molly now back away. Pulling out your phone, you glance down, watching the screen light up with Dave’s name. 
“Well… I guess I’ll let you get back to it.” She chuckles, acknowledging the notifications. 
It’s weird, her finally knowing about this. And although she doesn’t know everything about this, her knowing some of it sort of… normalizes it. But you’re not exactly sure that’s a good thing. 
Before you can get a response out, she’s walking away. “Tell Dave I say hi.” She grins, shutting the door behind her. Now that comment, makes your insides twist tight. 
Tumblr media
Doing as he says, you open the app, seeing another notification from him. And inside, you’re already full of butterflies, thinking about what he’s sent. 
This time, it’s a video. It starts out in the same position as the photo he sent, directed at his covered lap. But now, his hand is moving, slowly undoing his belt before pulling it open. Thick fingers then move to his zipper, pulling it down to reveal the pretty periwinkle underneath. But then it abruptly ends. Frowning, you close the app to message him, wondering if he’d intended to send more. But just before you can, another video loads. 
Groaning, David sighs, pulling himself out of his light purple boxers. He’s red, already dripping down the sag of his foreskin. Pulling it back, you can hear him gasp, a quiet noise as he holds himself in hand. 
“I miss you, baby.” His voice is low, but sweet. Gliding his thumb over the tip, he sighs again. “Miss the way you feel around me…” 
Tumblr media
You’ve already spent at least ten minutes in here, so you’ll need to do this quick. And be creative. It’s not like you can just get naked in the middle of the bathroom, and you definitely don’t have the time for that. But Dave isn’t exactly a hard man to please. 
“Fuck me.” 
He thought the two of you were just having fun together, sending these messages back and forth. Sure he’d touched himself in a video for you, but he had no real intention of actually getting himself off. That is, until you sent an upskirt picture of yourself to him.
Your cheer uniform is clearly visible, and with your panties tugged to the side, he can see you perfectly. The smooth pinkness of your skin, just barely glistening for him. Jesus, he misses that, misses how it feels and tastes and smells. Fuck, he’ll have to convince you to give him your panties again, especially if you’re not sure when you’ll next see him.
Making sure to screenshot the image, he pulls it up in his photos, no longer having the Snapchat timer on it. Spitting into his palm, he stares at the screen, at the beautiful picture of your sweet, tiny pussy. It’s his, it’s all his, the entirety of your body. Your gorgeous tits and smooth thighs, the plumpness of your ass. All he wants to do is touch you, feel and grab on your most sensitive places. He loves your hips, loves digging his fingers into the thin skin, especially when he’s fucking you. Jesus Christ, it’s all he can think of, bending you over and taking you from behind, fucking you in his car, in the basement lounge of his home, anywhere secluded enough for him to have you.
Tugging on himself, he releases a rough sigh. Even though he has an entire office to himself, he still wants to keep quiet. He has absolutely no idea who could be walking the halls. Truthfully, though, it’s hard to do so when he has a woman half his age sending pictures from between her thighs. 
His head tilts back, resting on the upper portion of his chair as he spreads his legs further. Thrusting up into his palm, he gasps, continuously brushing the flat of his thumb over his leaking head. He just loves how you play with it, how you tug his foreskin back to suck and lick on it. The next time he sees you, he’ll demand it, shove you down onto your knees until you’re gagging on him. It’s what he’s wanted for days, it’s what he needs. 
Spit isn’t enough to be an adequate lubricant, nowhere near as slick as your cunt. It’s amazing to him, just how slippery you get, just how desperately you want for him. And he knows if you were here, you’d be doing this for him. 
Slamming the phone down on his desk, he finds his breaths becoming ragged, using his now free hand to cup his scrotum. He fondles the softness of it, imagining it to be you while he jerks off into his hand. Internally, he’s thinking about your mouth, about the way you swallow him. Even when he cums, you’re sucking it down, urging it to the back of your throat and Christ, just the thought of it is enough for him. 
It’s incredible how sensitive he gets, especially when he cums. He has to bite into his lower lip to keep himself at bay, to keep those whimpers from slipping out. Thrusting up into his own hand, he groans, eyes pitching shut with his brows furrowing just above. His mouth hands agape, unable to think about anything other than your pretty face. He can feel it oozing down the side of his hand, seeping into the cracks between each fingers, leaking over his knuckles. He never used to cum so much before you. 
“F-Fuck,” He grunts out, eyes shooting open to look down. 
Slowing his pace, he takes a breath, staring at his mess. Some of the warm, white goo is on his boxers, even his work pants, too. But he’s not frustrated about that. He’s annoyed about something else entirely. 
“Should’ve filmed that.” 
Tumblr media
It’d be for the best that you accept her offer, you want to reassure her that your friendship is as strong as ever. But you just can’t bring yourself to. Dave’s presence is nowhere in that house, but Carol sure as hell is. She’s always complaining, whether it’s about Dave, or her work, or her friends, it’s always something. It’s never-ending. And you just don’t feel like dealing with that right now.
“I think I’m okay today, but thanks for askin’.” Is your final response, alongside a grateful smile. 
“You sure?” Molly inquires, shifting her bag on her shoulder. “You don’t want to hangout today?”
“Not today, babe. But we will sometime this week, I promise.” 
Honestly, you’d like to get home and eat. It’s been a long day, with an early practice and then another after your classes. You’ve barely had time for a latte and some crackers, and you’re starting to feel woozy from it. 
“I need to get home and eat. Talk to you later!” And with that, you’re hopping in your Jeep. 
Some days, it’s easy to get caught up in the world around you. With school and work and cheer and pom, Dave occasionally falls to the wayside. Even though you’ve been missing some classes and practices lately… But while these days come and go, he always wiggles back in somehow. Today had been busy, you weren’t able to respond to him after your flirty morning messages. But now that you’re driving home, finally on your way to relaxation, your head is full of him again. 
“Hey, baby.”
“Hey!” You’re giddy all over again, just hearing his voice. You’d decided to call instead of text, you missed his voice. “How are you?”
“Tired,” He groans, staring down at the paperwork he’d been tasked with. “How are you?”
“Tired, too. But I'm finally on my way home, think I’ll take a day off tomorrow. This week has been draining me.” 
“Just remember, we’ll get a break soon.” Smirking, he traces an imaginary shape onto his desk, sighing. 
“What do you mean?”
“Our trip, we’re leaving on Thursday.”
“Holy shit, I completely forgot! Fuck, I need a break.”
“You’ll get one soon, princess.”
The way he says it makes you sigh, releasing the stress of your day. His voice is smooth and reassuring, deep and just a little bit gravely. 
“I miss you.” 
“I know, honey. But I’ll see you soon.” 
“Tonight?”
“I don’t know, sweetheart. I’m pretty busy, I’ll probably be home late.” 
Immediately, you have the thought of visiting him. You’ve never gone up to his work, you haven’t really had a reason to. But maybe you could surprise him today. 
“Okay, babe. Just get some rest, okay?”
“Sure, baby.” He chuckles, checking the time on his wrist. “We can talk more later, okay?”
“Okay,” Pouting, you pull into your parking lot, wishing the call didn’t have to end. 
“I love you, sweetheart.” He says it with intention, like he’s apologizing for your time apart. 
“I love you, too.” And while your response isn’t said as sweetly, he accepts it, promising to text you soon. 
As soon as the call ends, you’re scurrying inside to see what food you have. Instead of just visiting him, you figure you’ll bring him some dinner. He did say he was busy, maybe he hasn’t had the chance to eat yet. 
Thinking back to the first time he stayed in your apartment, you remember one of his favorite meals. Easily enough, you find noodles and alfredo sauce in the cupboard, and some frozen chicken in the freezer. 
Tumblr media
“Who?”
“Dave York… does he, does he not work here?” It’s the third time you’ve had to ask for him, and everyone’s been acting super strange. 
“No, he does, he does. I just… are you one of his daughters?” And now, you freeze up. “I haven’t seen you before.”
“I’m… a friend. Can you just tell me where to find him, please?” Did it have to be that big of a deal?
Though, you suppose it should be a big deal. This isn’t just any office, it’s the office for the Central Intelligence Agency. Maybe you should’ve thought this through. 
“Sure… just let me give him a call. What was your name?”
Sighing, you hand your ID to the man at the front desk, watching him eye it while picking up the phone. He dials a quick number, Dave’s voice heard on the other end almost immediately. 
“Yeah, I’ve got a younger woman here that’s asking for you.”
At this, he sounds flustered, though you can’t quite make out what he’s saying. But then this man is repeating your name, and he goes silent. Shit, is he upset that you’re here? Maybe this was a bad idea. Shit, shit. 
“Ma’am?”
“Hm? Yes?” Startled out of your worried haze, the man says, “You can go in. He’s right down that hall, and to your right. Office number twenty-nine.” 
Raising your brows, you feel a surge of adrenaline burst inside. “Oh… okay, thank you.”
You’re very suddenly intimidated by your surroundings. Everything looks so… professional, monochrome colors and sleek lines, engraved name cards and security surveillance at every turn. Regardless, you make your way down, albeit with timid steps. And when you’re at his door, you take in a deep breath. Gulping, you lift your hand, knuckles knocking shyly against the door. 
“Come in.” His voice is deep, loud, demanding that you enter. 
Slowly, you twist the knob, urging the hunk of wood forward. Peaking your head inside, you’re met with an abundance of dark wood and grays. Wooden side tables and shelves, and further in, a dark wooden desk, too. 
“H-Hey, hi.” Grinning sheepishly, you fully make your way in, closing the door behind you. 
“Hey…” Standing from his desk, you’re not quite sure how to read his expression. Both hands fall to his shirt, fiddling with his buttons. “What…” Walking toward you, he exhales a nervous breath. “What’re you doing here?” 
“I, well…” Lifting the tupperware in your hand, you glance down, explaining, “I wanted to bring you dinner.” 
As soon as he sees it, his eyes are wide, lips parting slightly. “You… brought me dinner?”
“Mhm, I made it. It’s chicken alfredo, I… I thought you’d like it.”
“Baby,” And the way he says it prompts your eyes to return to him. “Thank you.” 
He takes the container so gingerly that you’d assume it was glass if you didn’t already know better. Spinning on his heels, he sets it on his desk, just as quickly turning back to you.
“Oh!”
“Thank you, baby.” Reaching out, he pulls you tightly into his arms, heart beating out of his chest. You can feel it against your own, your hands sliding up to wrap around his neck.
“Of course,” You’re flush from his reaction, beyond happy to see him this way. “I’m so glad you’re happy to see me.”
“Why wouldn’t I be?” He asks, loosening his grip to kiss your forehead. And then he’s turning, walking back to his desk.
“I don’t know, I’ve just never been here before and I got… nervous.” 
“You’re cute when you’re nervous.” He’s chuckling, opening up the container and grabbing the silverware you brought with it. 
Slinking into one of the chairs before his desk, you grin, watching him dig in. And in this brief lull, you take a look around his office, having wondered what it’d be like in here. All the lights are warm-toned, his shelves full of novels and his desk incredibly clean. Usually though, it’s quite messy. He’s lucky his secretary called first, it gave him time to hide a few things before you came in. 
“Did you eat?”
“Yeah, I ate at home. Don’t worry about me.” 
All he can do is stop and stare at you, smiling sweetly. No one’s ever been so thoughtful toward him before. In all their years of marriage, Carol never thought to do this. And if she did, she never followed through on it. 
“You’re so sweet, honey.” 
“Yeah well I try.” You respond, rolling your eyes with a grin. 
With an ounce of confidence, you stand, making your way behind his desk. Wrapping your arms around him from behind his chair, you lean down, kissing his cheek. 
“I was a little bit nervous, if I’m being honest.”
“Why?”
“Well, everyone knows I’m married, baby.” He laughs, thinking that was obvious. “And now I have some young girl bringing me food.” 
Shrugging, you grin. “Maybe they’ll be impressed.” 
Setting down his fork, he grins, turning a bit. “C’mere.” Grabbing hold of your hips, he pulls you into his lap, your back pressing against his chest. “I’m impressed.”
“With what?” You giggle, feeling his lips dragging over your neck. 
“How caring you are, baby.” Kissing your neck, he grins, hands unwilling to move from your hips. “I’m lucky to have you.” 
Tilting your head back onto his shoulder, you sigh. “I’ve missed this.”
“I know…” Dave groans, “I can’t wait to take you on this trip, do whatever I want with you for days.” 
“You could do whatever you want with me right now.” You return, eyeing him from the side. 
As if the sound was meant to directly ruin your moment, his work phone rings. And then, a notification pops up on his laptop. A work meeting.
“Yeah, not while talking to my bosses.” 
Frowning, you release a pouty huff. “Could I maybe… stay? I’ll be quiet, I promise!”
At first, he’s inclined to say no. He isn’t sure what this meeting is about, but… he could always take it on his AirPods, too. 
“Sure, baby. Just keep quiet, okay?”
Your face lights up at his words, nodding enthusiastically. Darting to the side, you grab a chair, pulling it up beside him. It takes all but two seconds for him to connect the call, popping in one of the small, white earbuds. 
It’s cute, really, how sweetly you cuddle up to him. But can you help it? Going days without him feels like a fucking crime. And since he’s not on camera, you really can snuggle him, looping an arm around his and nuzzling into his shoulder. 
Smiling, he enters the chat, happy to hear it’s about the upcoming trip. “Yeah, the tickets are set. Resnik checked into the hotel already, I’ll be meeting him early Friday. Yep, leaving Thursday night.” 
He’s going through the facts, just running over the plan, but even though the conversation is mundane, you couldn’t be more entertained. The smooth melody of his voice lulls you into relaxation, that baritone sound rumbling in his throat. 
Something about laying on the sturdiness of him, listening to him converse nonchalantly with his coworkers, it’s healing your inner child. Even though he’s at work, clearly busy, he still wants you here. He still does his best to make sure you know you’re loved. 
Tumblr media
“Come here.”
“Sh!” You giggle, moving with him. “We have to be quiet!”
“I know that.” Dave grunts in response, pulling you into his body again. 
It all happened so quickly, him waking you up before leaving the office. You’re shocked that you fell asleep in the first place. Thinking back, you weren’t even that tired. Maybe he just made you that comfortable. 
“Doesn’t mean I can’t have my fun with you.” He finishes, biting into your neck. 
After he woke you up, he suggested that you come back to his home. Truthfully, it’s become far too easy for this to take place, for you to fuck Molly’s dad just down the hall from her bedroom. Coming home past midnight, he’s certain that his family will be asleep. And as long as you’re out before six the next morning, you’re in the clear. And anyways, he’d missed having you in his bed, beneath his body and hands. There was a point where you’d told him that you wanted a home, a home to share with him. And after that, he kind of lost it. 
At first, it was innocent, the two of you snuggling in your undies together. He locked the door after you were both inside, releasing a contended breath once he finally got to hold you. Dave wrapped the covers around the two of you, settling into his bed. But then you were shifting, trying to get ‘comfortable’, all while grinding back against him. 
“You know what I can’t stop thinking about? Your gorgeous fucking mouth,” Reaching up, he covers it with his palm, hissing into your ear, “And all the sexy sounds it makes.”
He’s holding you from behind, having shoved your panties to the side. Slipping himself out of his boxers, he slides along the slickness of your sex, grunting hot breaths directly into your ear. 
“Jesus, baby, you don’t understand. You can’t do that to me, you can’t grind that perfect ass against me. I just, fuck, I cum so fucking easy with you.”
And while he’s talking, only riling himself up, you’re still doing it, shoving yourself back against him. Both of your hands are clinging to his forearm, lungs doing their best to release quiet breaths. 
“Every time you leave, I think about you, baby. I think about you every goddamn second of the day. Think about your beautiful lips, tapping the head of my dick against them.” And that’s when you release your first, true moan, eyes fluttering just above his hand. “You want it, princess? You want me?”
It’s a smile whine, one accompanied with a nod, that you give in response. And with one small slip, barely adjusting the angle of his hips, he’s sliding in. It feels like it’s been forever since you felt him, the thickness of him splitting you open from behind. 
“Talk to me,” He finally gives in, taking his hand away. “Talk to me, baby.”
“Baby,” You nearly squeal, feeling his hips thrust into you. All at once, he’s forcing you to take him, every inch. And it burns but it feels just right. “Fuck, I need this.”
“C’mon,” Dave grunts, teeth dragging along your neck. Sliding one hand down, he smacks your outer thigh, demanding, “Grind yourself against me.” And like always, you give in. 
“More, daddy.” Already, your breaths have turned heavy, feeling his hips rotate against your ass. The sting of his slap still radiates along your skin, his fingers now pressing into the plump muscles he can’t seem to get enough of. 
“I can’t wait to give you more, I’ll give you everything.” He promises, huffing out a deep moan. “When we’re on our trip, I’ll taste you everyday, every goddamn day.”
“David,” He’s pumping himself into you, meeting the smooth rotation of your hips. 
“Fuck, I can’t wait to have your mouth on my cock again. Shove it down your throat and make you look up at me while you swallow.” He can’t even begin to tell you about the fantasies he’s dreamt up about this trip. “I can’t wait to take you with me.” 
“I…” Sighing, you smile. “I can’t wait, daddy.”
“Daddy’ll give you whatever you want, okay, baby? Whatever you need, it’s yours, it’s yours, princess. Fuck.” Sliding his hand down, he fondles your chest, gripping you in hand. “Maybe I can show you off, take you to some beaches and clubs.”
“R-Really?”
“Fuck yes, you think I’d pass up that opportunity?” You hate to say it, but feeling like a prize to him is making you drip. “Let everyone see the sexy little thing that’s with me… Fuck, you can be so dirty, can’t you, baby? Sending me pictures of your pussy, huh? Letting me see up your cheer skirt?”
“I, I want that. Want you to do that.”
“I already have.”
“No, baby…”
“What?” Pressing his nose into your cheek, he groans. “What do you need?”
“Want you to do that at our next game.” And you almost can’t help the wicked smile that forms on your face. 
“Yeah? At halftime? Just like how we first met?”
“Yes, baby.” The feeling of his cock dragging along your walls is almost too much when coupled with his words. And before you even realize it, your hips are stuttering in their motion.
“Did I tell you to stop?” Another harsh spank, one loud enough for you to worry. 
“Daddy,” 
“You like that?”
“You know I do.”
You can feel his stubble scratching along your jawline and cheek, his lips insistent in their kisses. But then he’s lowering himself, finding and then sucking on your neck.
“Do you like it, daddy? You like being inside me?”
“Fuck,” It’s a growl, one vibrating over your throat. 
At this point, he’s slapping his hips against you, diving deeper every time. 
“I loved sitting in your lap, daddy. Maybe I can do that more often at your office.”
“Maybe you can do a little more than that.”
You’re pulsing around him, trying to quiet your shrill gasps. Molly and Alice are just down the hall, and so is Carol. And to think you’re fucking their dad makes you hot all over again. It’s become so exciting. Hell, who are you kidding? It’s always been exciting. 
“I love you, sweetheart. You were meant for this, you were made for me. Even when apart, I still want you. I still need you.”
“I need you, David.” Clinging to his forearm, you release a soft moan, feeling his tip punch against your most sensitive spot. “I love you.”
“B-Baby,” He suddenly stutters, holding you tighter in his grasp. And you almost can’t breathe from it, can’t think of anything else but him. 
“I know, daddy. Will you cum inside me?” 
“Jesus,” Eyes rolling back, he grunts. “You’re perfect for me.”
The sloppy sound of your meeting sexes makes your face burn, and if it weren’t for the loud fan in David’s room, you’d be worried. It makes you grateful for the times you get at your apartment, where you can be as loud and sloppy as you want. And you’re sure this vacation won’t be any different. 
“I’m gonna take you with me,” He promises breathlessly, eyes pinching shut. His tongue is laving over your neck, lips kissing your jawline and cheek, moaning sweetly, desperately into your ear. “I can’t wait to take you with me.” In less than three sharp thrusts, he’s spilling into you, feeling the hot liquid rush out of his tip. It shoots into your center, the gooiness of it coating your insides white. His muscles turn to jelly, his once steady breaths now faltering, especially when you shove your hips back against him. 
“I love you,” He proclaims through his high, his voice and chest straining as he speaks to you. “I love you, sweetheart. You’re mine.” 
“I know,” You promise in return, nuzzling back into his barely-covered body. “I know, baby. And you’re mine.” Reaching around, your fingers find that soft, light brown hair, finding gentle purchase with it. 
“You’ll always be with me, I promise.” Kissing the shell of your ear, David sighs, basking in the sensation of your fingers in his hair. “Princess, I’ll take you everywhere.” 
224 notes · View notes
buckyalpine · 1 year
Note
Tw
Hi sweet dolcezza (that is Italian and means sweetness so sweet sweetness :) )
Hope you are doing well, I want to thank you again for your beautiful blog and wonderful works.
I am reading the last things you posted, beautiful as always!
Since I live for the drama, the sadness, the darkness...
I was thinking about how a broken boy with traumas, Bucky 🫢, would react about his girlfriend having mental health problem.
Maybe she has been developing them...
She wasn't always like that, she lost her sparkle and he doesn't know her like this, he sees another person, another woman, another human.
He can't understand and is confused, maybe mad.
On one side I think about him being supportive, on the other I think about him being disrespectful and invalidating, like he had lived major traumas but, he says "he is not complaining so much about it or playing the victim" like her.
-I had this hint because my mental health is not good, I have severe OCD, since I was a kid basically I remember being this way since the age of five four. I am struggling with ed and borderline personality disorder.
And I had partners that, even if they lived traumas, still invalidated mine a lot and called me names, so the were basically toxic.-
And i can't picture where Bucky could fall. Toxic? Supportive?
I love him, but sometimes he acts shady and not always I can read him.
I see him dark most of the time.
But they can always repair the relationship and be together or not?
(I am problematic with toxic guys ahahahaha)
Sorry for this and my life story, noone asked about buy still. I just think you are the best person to write something as deep.
I really hope you are doing good and enjoying your day so far.
A lot of kisses and hugs and support.
🌺
18+
Babes we are one in the same with toxic men. I like to think there's the version of Bucky who has so much love and empathy for others going through mental health struggles and then there’s the Bucky who loves you but doesn’t know how to process things and acts impulsively. Here, we look at the second. 
Warnings: Angst, Mental health issues, some toxic behavior, (happy ending, they learn to fix things)
Disclaimer: Some of the stuff in this fic are things I/others have gone though so please refrain from comments about why the reader stayed or what the reader should have done or how the story should have gone. Sometimes I get super sucked into the angsty parts and struggle to undo the damage so don’t read too much into it. 
I imagine it starts off bad because Bucky's still learning to deal with his own mental health and there are times where he can be selfish without meaning to. He's so used to having you comfort and take care of him, he doesn't know what to do when you start to change. He’s been through so much, he can’t imagine someone else feeling his level of anguish.
You’re no longer the same person he fell in love with. Your sparkle is gone. A grey dullness encasing you. He doesn’t know when things changed or why but he just wants you back; the distance between you both gets worse with each passing day. You try your best to still be there for him because you know he needs it; you love him with all your heart even when your own feels heavy. 
"Baby, are you okay?" 
"I’m fine"
Bucky practically scoffs when you ask him how he’s doing because you should know he’s never fine. He’s never okay. He doesn't know why you bother asking him when its the same shit he deals with on a daily basis. 
You can't bring yourself to tell him how you're feeling because you know he doesn't have the capacity to help you when he's struggling himself. He shrugs, not knowing what else to say, letting you wallow in your misery, taking his frustrations out during his workouts instead. Things continue to worsen; you fall deeper in your spiral while Bucky continues to shut you not, realizing it’s you who needs him. 
“Can we talk?”
You’re desperate at this point, hoping maybe he’ll at least listen but he shakes his head instead. Bucky can’t stop the bitterness that starts to rise in his chest; he missed his ma, his sisters. His missed living in a world where he understood the things around him, where he didn’t have to feel like a lost toddler every time he stepped outside. His feelings have nothing to do with you, he really does love you but all the bitterness spills onto the one person who is always there for him. 
“What’s the point y/n” 
“I-I just feel...” You shrug, not knowing how to tell Bucky of all people that you felt empty. 
“What do you feel. I don’t know what you even complain for” 
“I feel like I have no one Bucky” You felt your stomach drop when his eyes bore into you, as if he's challenging your feelings. 
“You still have your cousins, other family, friends. You complain so much but you’re so spoiled. I’m going through shit too, but you don’t see me acting like a victim”
You swallow the anger that tries to rise, trying to understand his point of view. It all comes to a boiling point because you're trying your hardest to hold it together while he doesn’t see your spiral break down.  You felt your heart splinter; after every time you had held him, loved him, cared for him, he looked at you with emptiness. 
“Bucky, I know you’re going through things-
“Things? You think I can just turn this fucking shit off y/n? I’m not fucking normal, and you’ll never fucking get it. Honestly, I don’t know what to tell you, I’ll stay at Steve’s tonight”
He makes his way to the door and you know you can’t be alone tonight, there’s too much going on inside.
“Please don’t” your voice is a plea, your practically begging at this point. You can feel your throat tighten because you feel selfish for struggling when he’s been through so much worse.
“Bucky please stay” you trail behind him, your knees shaking. You try to tug at his wrist but he doesn’t let you. When you finally try to cling onto his arm, his composure breaks. 
“GET OFF ME” he pulls out of your grasp, sending you stumbling back. He’s usually mindful of his strength but he doesn’t think and you lose your balance, ending up on the floor. He freezes in utter disbelief with himself, he’d never in a million years even try to hurt you. 
“Fuck, baby I’m so so-”
“Don’t”
Your eyes are now stone cold, your voice was low. He tries to help you up but you scramble away from him, adding distance between you both.  He takes a step forward again but something isn’t right, he finally sees how broken you look. 
“Y/n….”
“GET OUT”
Your voice tore through the walls and his eyes are wide with fear because he's never seen you so broken. He’s never heard you raise your voice like this; you’d always spoken to him softly. He’s scared because he didn’t mean to push you to your breaking point and he doesn’t know how to take it back. 
"I-"
“GET THE FUCK OUT” 
You pick yourself off the floor, your heart beating through your chest. You practically see red, after everything you had done for him, he called you selfish; you sat through every one of his panic attacks, his depressed days, his nightmares. He couldn't listen to you for one night. 
"You fucking piece of shit"
You angrily tried to wipe your face, moving away from him to pack a bag, not wanting to be near him for a minute longer. You go straight to your room while he runs after you, panic rising, he wants to cry but he can’t, not right now. 
“Doll I’m sorry-
“I don’t care” You rummage through some of your belongings, feeling yourself go numb. You felt like your mind didn’t even belong to you anymore, your body moving in autopilot. Bucky hates the vacant look on your face, he wants to hold you and tell you he’s sorry. He tries to wrap his arms around you, not knowing what else to do but you shove him away, shaking your head.
“Don’t-don’t touch me, don’t ever fucking touch me again”
He watches helplessly when you rip yourself away, shoving a few things into your duffle bag, not meeting his eyes. 
"I-I don't fucking love you, I-I'm d-d-one with you"
“Baby please don’t go” 
“Oh, so when you beg, I have to stay?” You scoff, letting out a humorless laugh “Fuck off”
He’s terrified now because while your movements are robotic, your body is shaking and you don’t even seem to notice. Bucky hates seeing you trembling; you’re about to leave the room and walk out but he stops you. 
“Bucky, move” You suck in a breath, your nails digging into your hands, but he stays rooted in place. 
“No bubba”
“Don’t call me that” Your voice trembles, another surge of anger flowing through you when he tries to reach out for you. “I SAID DON’T TOCUH ME”
He pulls you to his chest and you try to rip yourself free but he doesn’t let you go. 
“LET GO”
Bucky shakes his head, hugging you tighter, his tears dampening your hair. The screams and wails ripping from your chest burn his insides, you desperately try to escape but he cradles you closer. 
“M’sorry”
“L-let me g-o”
“M’sorry baby, I’m sorry, I’m sorry” He doesn’t care that your hitting his chest, he doesn’t care that your hands keep striking him. He can feel your body give way, your breaths uneven, months of pain spilling out all at once. He hugs you tighter like he should have done ages ago, realizing you needed him more than ever. Your body continues to fight but your angry screams turn into pained sobs. 
“I’m so sorry my babygirl” 
He carefully carries you to the bed where he can hold you in his lap. He tries to think of what you do for him, warming your body, rubbing his hands along your back and arms. He feels awful because you always take such good care of him and he was grasping at straws trying to do the same for you. You deserved so much more. 
“Shhhh” His lips brush against your forehead, one hand gently rubbing your chest while the other continues to soothe your back so he can regulate your breathing. “Slowly baby, breathe with me, okay?” 
You say nothing, but you try to follow his breaths, letting him take care of you. He continues to tell you how much he loves and cares for you, how sorry is he for hurting you. Exhaustion takes over and you allow yourself to fall asleep with him. A part of you is still angry but your too weak to move and you need to be held.  
You wake up in the middle of the night feeling his chest tremble against you. His soft sniffles are muffled as he tries to keep his cries down while cuddling you close. 
“Bucky?” You lift your head to see his broken expression. 
“I’m s-sorry” He chokes out, breaking down. He feels selfish again because he should be the one comforting you but he was angry with himself. “I-I can’t believe I hurt you angel” 
You move up so you can wipe some of his tears, his face puffy having cried for hours through the night. 
“I just needed you” You gently your fingers through his hair trying to calm him down. 
“I-I said shit I never should have said baby, I’m sorry. M’sorry sweet girl” 
“Why did you say those things” you whisper, your voice still hoarse.
“I’m so sorry angel, I- there’s not excuse, I’m sorry I was so selfish doll”
You nod, still feeling drained though a part of you feels better. You hadn’t fully forgiven him yet but you knew he meant every word plus there was no one else in the world you loved as much as him. He thinks about the way he mistreated you, realizing he really didn’t deserve your forgiveness at all. Your words replay in his head and his breaths become shallow. 
“Do-do you not love me anymore?” His voice is a broken whisper. You knew you didn’t mean it. The thought nearly kills him. He would have gone through hydra again over ever losing your love. Your thumb brushes over his lips silencing him. 
“Please don’t say you don’t love me”  He nuzzles himself further into your side, hugging you tightly, his voice a whimper. “Please, I’m sorry” 
“I was just angry Bucky. I love you” He calms down slightly but hes still on edge with himself. He wants to do better. He wants to take care of you. You had been there through everything for him and you deserved the same love a thousand times over. 
“I promise I’ll try harder angel” 
He stays true to his word. 
It doesn’t resolve overnight.
But he learns. And so do you.
He’s patient with you. He gives you endless love. He has his own hard days, and so do you but your by each others side through it all. He sees your sparkle return brighter than ever, 
Because he really does love you. 
Tags:
@glxwingrxse  @hungryyeyess  @sebsgirl71479  @beabutterfly987  @teambarnes72  @witchywhore @jamesbuckybarneswify @slutforsexyseabass  @chrisdrysdale @littlemarvelmenfan  @buggy14  @whimsyplaty92  @sergntbarnes @inkedaztec   @pono-pura-vida   @moonlightreader649 @brooklynscherry-z  @elle14-blog1 @justsebstan @littlelightnings @psychomanniac-blog  @happyt0exist   @emmabarnes  @bethyruth @matchat3a  @cjand10   @getwellsoontana  @cherryschaos   @lokisasgardianvampirequeen  @ashenc-blog  @buckybarnessimpp   @potatothots  @goldylions  @high-functioning-lokipath @morganemorganite-blog  @kingfleury   @peaches1958   @spiderman-stilinski   @peaceinourtime82  @gublur   @wintersmelodie @geeky-politics-46   @lolawassad  @almosttoopizza   @a-poor-gryffindork @alternativeprincess   @buckycallsmeaslut    @kamaria-sweet-writes  @charmedbysarge    @xnorthstar3x  @kryoee7 @alina02  @gh0stgurl  @polishprincess999 @jessybarnes   @carrotfantasimp
490 notes · View notes
wint3r-h3art · 1 year
Text
The Beginning | Sugar Daddy Stephen
Tumblr media
synopsis: the beginning of how you and Stephen came into this arrangement.
word count: 4.9K
Warnings: slow burn. Angst turn into smut. age gap (Strange is 40+ and Reader is 21+), sugar daddy/sugar baby relationship, daddy kink, praise kink, vaginal fingering, cunnilingus, hand & fingers kink, protected vaginal sex(always practice safe sex besties 💛), couch sex.
FYI, my sugar daddy Stephen for this au does have tattoos 😘
18+ ONLY | MINOR DNI
A/N: I finally got out of my writing slump and have enough time to write. This is like an intro to the au, so is slow burn before we get to the juicy part. I hope you enjoyed it. I know it has been sometimes that I write anything. If you do like it, please comment and reblog. It is greatly appreciated, and just mean so much to get supported from you 💛
Do not copy, repost, or translate my works anywhere else.
Tumblr media
You couldn’t sleep.
You’ve been tossing and turning all night, staring at the unfamiliar high ceiling. You didn’t know how it came to this, even if it was a one-time thing. The glitz and the glamor–it was enticing and addicting to someone like you who had nothing to begin with. 
You needed money, and striking a deal with the doctor seemed like a good idea for the night. What you didn’t expect were your feelings for him to be mixed into this.
It started off as a joke–merely a suggestion that could potentially remedy his problem, but you didn’t expect him to actually accept the offer. 
He was your regular at a coffee shop you worked at a couple of blocks from the hospital he worked at. You knew his order by heart, and by 2 o’clock sharp, he would stroll in with a newspaper in hand and often sat at a secluded corner of the cafe. You would bring his coffee to him, and he often tipped you a hefty amount. Occasionally, you two exchanged some words. Some days when he was in a good mood enough, he would strike off a conversation with you. It started off with the question about the tattoos on his hands, then it slowly transitioned to be something more than just a comment about the weather.
That was how it had always been, except for a couple of weeks ago, he walked into the shop with a stormy look on his face. He was clearly bothered by something to the point where he didn’t acknowledge your presence there, which was fine. You never had any sort of relationship with him, to begin with, but his attitude that afternoon bothered you, so when you brought his order to him, you couldn’t help but ask him. 
You remembered the conversation well enough because looking back now, you really didn’t know what possessed you that afternoon to be so bold around him. You’re always more friendly to him, and perhaps smiling more at him than your other patrons for sure. But that was because you have a crush on him. It was the only thing that you could do. You never wished for anything more because men like him do go with someone like you, and that was a fact that you often remind yourself of.
He told you that he was invited to the wedding–of his ex-girlfriend, whom he was working with. Ideally, he didn’t want to go, but if he doesn’t show up, everyone in the hospital would think of him as an asshole for being petty.
“Why not go with someone? Y’know, for a moral support?” you suggested, and the doctor looked at you and laughed.
“With whom exactly?” he chuckled before taking a sip of his coffee.
“I’m not sure, doctor. But you look like the type who has a list of women lining up the door for you,” you said to him that afternoon. 
The doctor laughed even more at your implication about his dating status. “That’s very presumptuous of you to even think that.”
“I only speak the truth,” you smiled, though you didn’t realize at that time that your suggestion would turn the tide of your interaction with him. 
“If you need a date for a wedding, I can totally do it. Just pay me by the hour,” you joked with him before leaving him be, but what came out of his mouth that day shook you.
“How much?”
You stopped in your tracks and turned to look at him, thinking that he was joking. 
He clearly wasn’t.
There was a determined look in his eyes, and you swore you felt yourself throbbing. It wasn’t a secret at all how much you wanted him, but you knew you couldn’t. You were merely a coffee shop barista–hell, you were a college dropout. No man of his caliber would even spare a glance at you, but the doctor was often kind to you. 
“Are you serious?” you asked, even if it was evident that he was dead serious on the question.
“I clearly don’t want to go to this wedding by myself, and you clearly need the money. I’m willing to drop whatever you need just to have you there to save me from whatever hell that’s going to be. I think it's a good deal.”
“What if your coworkers noticed who I am?” you asked.
“Then let them think how they want. We can enjoy the wedding together.”
The words left your heart fluttered, and well, the rest was history. He agreed with your rate and the hour. He even offered to buy you dress and shoes too. You had to decline him on the hair and makeup though because it was already feeling a bit too excessive, and you could do it yourself quite easily enough. 
All eyes were on him upon his arrival, and you couldn’t blame the people. He was famous in his own right.
There were whispers of course. You could clearly hear them, but the doctor reassured you, and you and he continued to enjoy the night, which brought you back to now, laying here in this massive California king bed, staring at the high ceiling.
He offered his guest room for you because it would be ungentlemanly of him to let you take the subway home by yourself. You joked with him that you won’t charge him for the after-hours, and he laughed, but knowing him, you could see that money was never an issue.
A heavy sigh left your lips. 
Giving up on trying to sleep, you decided perhaps it was best to make some tea. The doctor did say to make yourself at home after all. You quietly made your way out of the room and into the massive open kitchen. 
All of the appliances were immaculate, though it looked untouched as if he doesn’t cook often. You let your hand graze on the cold, white marble countertop. If only you get to live like this, you thought to yourself. The kitchen alone was far bigger than your dingy little apartment in Brooklyn. 
Everything about this penthouse just seemed so big and so extravagant, yet there was a coldness to it. 
Just like him, you thought as you poured the water into the kettle and turned on the stove. Rummaging through the cabinets, you found a cup and a box of Earl Gray tea, and then you waited. Tapping your fingers on the cool marble counter, staring into space as you waited for the water to boil.
“You know the kettle is not going anywhere, right?” 
You jolted from his voice. You could feel your face warming up as you turned to find him standing there wearing gray sweatpants and what looks like a Columbia alumni shirt. His hand was holding a tablet, while a pair of dark-rim glasses hung low on the bridge of his nose.
“Doctor,” you said, looking more startled than usual. 
Stephen’s eyes softened as he noticed the way you were flustered at his intruding. A small smile spread on his face. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you. I just thought I should make myself known.”
You could only reply with a sheepish smile as you tuck your hands in the pocket of your sweatshirt. Oh, and you were thankful for the sweatshirt because you have only a flimsy tank top on and the shorts that barely covered your asscheeks. 
“It’s alright. This is your place after all. I’m just a guest,” you said softly. “I hope you don’t mind that I have gone ahead and made myself at home.”
“Not at all. I’d rather you do. The kitchen doesn’t get used often enough,” he said as he took off his glasses and placed them on the counter. “Couldn’t sleep?”
You nodded. “I think it’s because I’m in a new environment. I just get too anxious, and overthink too much.”
“Are you saying that I made you nervous then?”
“Oh gosh, no! Not at all. I’m actually super thankful that you let me stay here tonight—and you’re teasing me,” you said as soon as you realized that he was chuckling.
“Sorry. I can’t help it. You just seem so cute when you’re flustered.”
Heat flooded your face once more, warming you to your neck. You opened your mouth to say something, but only the sound of the kettle whistled away, breaking your attention away from his comment.
Quickly, turn off the stove and hastily pour the hot water into your cup with a teabag in there.
“Ah, glad to be the source of your entertainment, doctor,” you said sarcastically, which made the doctor chuckle. “Do you want tea too?” you asked. “There’s enough water to make another one.”
“Sure.”
++++++++
Both of you ended up sitting on a couch that faced the floor-to-ceiling glass windows that overlooked the city. It felt awkward because your shorts were hiking too far up your thighs, and you know damn well that you weren’t wearing any panties under there. 
The quietness that lingered between the two of you didn’t help either. He was clearly in a daze, taken in the view of the city, while you were far too busy living inside your head like a damn nervous fool.
“You never told me why you dropped out of college,” Stephen asked suddenly, his eyes still trained on the view before him. He knew if he didn't break the silence now, you were going to be too damn nervous to do anything else.
“Money problem,” you said almost too quickly. “I had to drop out because we couldn’t afford the tuition anymore. Plus, my grandma was sick, so we need all the money we have to pay the hospital bills,” you said softly, hands holding onto the warm mug as you looked down. “It has always been just me and my gramma, y’know, so when she wasn’t feeling too well, I had to drop everything and go take care of her…”
Stephen could hear the tremor in your voice as you tried to hold it in.
“I was hoping she would get better, but she didn’t, so after she passed, I just left town and came to the city, hoping that I can do something more.”
“I’m sorry about your grandmother, Y/N.”
It was the first time that he had ever said your name, and you couldn’t help but look up. The softness in his gaze only made you yearn for more, but you knew you couldn’t have it. 
“It’s alright. That was seven years ago anyway. I have no hope of going back since I have so little money and time for anything. Juggling two jobs has already taken up too much of my time and energy,” you smiled sadly. “Thank you for paying me for the price I have asked you. That really covered three months of rent for me,” you chuckled. “I mean, if you ever needed me to be your date again, I’ll give you a good discount,” you said as you stretched and got up.
Suddenly his hand was around your wrist, stopping you in place.
Stephen wasn’t sure why he did it, but something in him wanted more–wanted to comfort you more than just a pat on the head. What was more was that the urge to take care of you and protect you was becoming overwhelming to him.
He could feel his heart beat heavily against his ribcage–it was almost deafening against his ears. 
“Doctor?”
He could feel the questioning look on your face, and it only made whatever came out of his mouth sounds even more ludicrous. 
“What if I offer to take care of you financially?” Your eyes went wide, and Stephen knew how it sounded, but he continued anyway. “For a year. I’ll help you financially, and you can do whatever you want with it.”
“And in exchange?” 
Stephen looked up, but he couldn’t read your expression, but he could feel how cold your hand had become. 
“Companionship, if you want to put it that way. You don’t have to pay rent, and you don’t have to do anything else. Whatever you need, I’ll cover it for you.”
“So…you’ll be my sugar daddy?”
“Sex doesn’t have to be involved if you’re not comfortable with it. I just need you to accompany me whenever there’s an event going on,” Stephen said as he realized that he was clenching his fist the whole time. You realized that he didn’t even bother to deny the fact because to be quite frankly that was the relationship he suggested.
“What if it is involved, what then?”
“Like I said, only if you consent to it, and if you’re comfortable with it,” he replied almost as a matter of factly. “I have never been married, nor have any children. There’s no string attached of any sort. I just thought I should help you out since you did come to the rescue at the last minute. Plus, it’s only a year. I don’t think I’d take too much out of your time if you decided to find someone more suitable for your taste–and well, your age.”
You chuckled. “Trust me, doctor, a guy my age is far from wanting me,” you said softly. Stephen looked at you for a long moment before he let go of your hand.
“What do you think they want then?” 
“Someone prettier, and at least have a stable job,” you chuckled nervously, though Stephen didn’t miss your little self-deprecating joke.
“You are pretty, what made you think you’re not?”
“Because that’s how they see me. I’ve only been with one guy in my entire life, and that relationship didn’t last that long.”
Stephen sighed. “You have so much to live and hope for, and I do hope you can see how beautiful you are, Y/N. Perhaps that person wasn’t right for  you, and perhaps you were just looking for someone else that could see past your wall.”
“Oh, perhaps guys my age are trash,” you laughed just to cut out the serious mood that began to settle between the two of you, but Stephen remained as he was.
“So what do you want then?”
You stopped laughing and swallowed hard. You wanted to say that you want him–that you don’t mind the sex part. If anything, it was almost welcoming, but another part of you didn’t want him to judge you. He was already generous enough with his offer, and asking for more seems like you’re overextending his generosity. 
“Stability,” you finally said. “I want a stable life, with enough money to pay rent, and put food on my table. I don't want anything more than I can’t afford. That’s what I want, doctor.”
“I can be that stability that you want. Even if it’s only for a limited time.”
“I know,” you said barely a whisper as you stared longingly at him. It was almost aching to just be so close and not be able to touch him.
Stephen noticed the way you were looking at him, and he couldn’t help but reach up and caress your face in his hand. He expected you to flinch or pull away, but you didn’t. Instead, you were slowly leaning into him, and he found himself doing the same.
Your hands were on his chest, and you could feel his heart drumming heavily. 
“Is this what you want?” he asked almost breathlessly. You could taste the tea on his breath and you wanted closer. His body heat radiated off of him like a furnace, and you wanted more.
“Yes,” you replied, leaning ever closer till your lips touched his.
His arm instinctively wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer till you were straddling him. His mouth moved at a slow, tantalizing pace at first, tasting every part of you. It soon melted into something of a raw hunger when his palm moved down to the swell of your ass and you realized that you didn’t have any underwear on.
“Are we really doing this?” he asked as kissed along your jawline. You couldn’t respond to him at first as you relished the way his lips and beard felt against your skin. Then he asked you again, this time followed by a firm smack on your ass.
You yelped before you nodded. “Yes, doctor. Please, please, please,” you pleaded as your arms were now snaking around his neck.
Stephen grunted as you continued to kiss your neck. His fingers slide underneath your shorts and straight to your throbbing pussy, gliding along your wet folds, teasing it, and propping at it.
“You’re already so wet for me, princess,” he said in a low baritone voice, testing the little pet name he had given you. 
You swore that you almost moan out loud when he calls you that. Some part of you clicked, and the need to be praised and to be called out by him was stronger than ever before.
You drew in a shaky breath when you felt the tip of his finger propping at your entrance, wishing and hoping that he wasn’t teasing you.
“Daddy, please,” you pleaded, and for that small and brief second, Stephen stopped. You could feel his body going rigid, his movement stopped altogether. A small part of you started to panic, perhaps he wasn’t into it.  
Stephen on the other hand felt something inside him click–the most carnal part of him seemed to roar to life like a caged beast ready to unleash. He didn’t know he could get turned on this much by the way you were saying the damn word. His cock was twitching in his sweatpants, while the urge to take you was stronger than ever before. 
Stephen pushed his finger inside, while his lips crushed into yours, swallowing your moan. His tongue grazed and slid against yours, licking and tasting you while his finger pumped in and out of your with ease. 
Any sort of coherent words failed you when he added another finger, pumping in and out of you with determination. Occasionally, he would widen your hole, spreading you out and working you till you were nothing but a sobbing mess. 
“What does the princess want daddy to do, hmm?”
You swore could come by the sound of his voice alone. As if it was impossible for any remnant of your sanity to be intact at this point. His voice was so low and so deep that it reverberated right through you. 
“Fuck me please,” you choked when Stephen plunged his fingers all the way to the knuckle. The lewd squelching sounds almost made you hide your face, but knowing him, he wouldn’t let that fly.
“Hmm, not now, darling. I need to make you nice and wet first,” he said softly before leaning forward, taking you with him until you were laid down on the large, plush couch.
You watched in the dim amber light, as the doctor hastily took off his shirt. You swallowed as your eyes traced his body, admiring every piece of work that was etched on his skin. From his shoulders, down to his fingertips, there were various tattoos decorating his skin, hiding any sort of remnants of his scars and marks. 
You suspected he might have them by the way those roses that were on both of his knuckles and the small line works that were around his fingers. What you didn’t anticipate was that he also had them on the rest of his body too.
Your eyes then trailed down to the hard plane of his chest, then down to his abs, then downward, following the trail of the dark hair that disappeared below the waistband of his gray sweatpants. 
You could feel your pussy throbbed as you eyed his impressive bulge that tented his crotch, and Stephen took notice of it too as he threw his sweatshirt over his soldier and stared down at you.
“I’ll let you touch it when I’m done with you,” he muttered. “Now, be a good girl, and take off your clothes, princess. I won’t ask twice.”
He didn’t have to ask as you quickly discarded your clothes off you. You laid back down with your legs parted, giving him the perfect view. You used your elbows to support yourself, starting and watching what he was planning to do to you while you began to massage your own breasts, kneading them. 
Stephen grabbed you by the ankles and dragged you down till your ass was hanging off the couch. You held your breath as you watched, anticipating what he was going to do next. 
He eyed you first, and then he started licking along the seam of your folds in a long and deliberate swipe. His hands were kneading your ass cheek as he settled into a steady rhythm. Stephen would glide his tongue along your nether lips, then push his tongue inside your dripping wetness in a steady, shallow penetration.
You couldn’t help but clutch at his hair, pulling him closer as if you couldn’t get enough of him while you rocked your hips against his mouth.
Stephen would concentrate on a spot, fucking you with his tongue, while his thumb circled your swollen clit. He would switch his pace to quicken whenever your moaning was getting too loud.
You responded with a slight jolt of your body as your breath caught in your throat. He could feel you were ready to climax by the way your body strained, and the way you fluttered around his tongue. 
Stephen gave you another long lick before he plunged his fingers inside you again, this time, his mouth was on your clit, sucking and licking until you couldn’t take any more of this desirous torment.
Rapture tore through you as a wave clashed against the rock. Your body spasms beneath him all the while that his tongue continues its assault against your sensitive nub.
It felt like ages until he was satisfied, and only then did he withdraw his fingers away from you. You watched Stephen lick them, not caring about the display of his boldness.
“How do you feel, princess?” he asked, his voice rough and coarse as he reached over to open one of the drawers of the side table.
Stephen quickly took off his sweatpants and unwrapped the square packet.
“G-good,” you said shakily as you watched him roll the condom onto his shaft. You couldn’t help but lick your lips. 
Stephen’s hand was on your sensitive pussy once more, rubbing at your clit in a circle as juices dripped out of your folds. “You came so much by just my mouth, princess. Has it been a while?”
The question made your face heat up–as if you weren’t flushed and warmed all over from your orgasm already, but you nodded anyway, not wanting to risk a good lie from him. 
“Yes, daddy,” you said softly.
Stephen then spread your legs apart as he settled himself between them.
“You don’t have to wear a condom if you don’t want to. I’m actually on contraception,” you murmured which quickly turned into a low groan, almost in agony at the way he rubbed his dick in between your folds. 
Your legs twitched whenever the head of his cocked pushed against your clit a bit too much and Stephen smiled.
“As much as I want to fuck you raw, we both need to get tested first. So for now, we just have to deal with these inconveniences,” he said as he grabbed his shaft and lined it at your entrance. He eyed you almost intensely before he pushed himself in.
Your body went rigid at the sheer size of him. It has been a while after all, so your body needs time to stretch and adjust to its girth. It was like swallowing fire while being doused by the warmth of the pleasure at the same time. 
Stephen moved slowly, pushing himself inch by inch. His face twitched and contorted, not anticipated by the way you were choking him so much.
“Princess, you need to relax or you’re going to make me come,” he told you. His teeth bit down onto his lips as he was completely sheathed all the way to the base. You also find yourself exhaling out as your muscles slowly relax and stretch. 
“Please move, daddy,” you murmured, and Stephen was more than willing to comply, withdrawing himself back before pushing himself forward. Each movement gave you a slow and torturous burn. He was bigger than you were used to and every time he moved, you felt like there wasn’t enough air for you to breathe. 
“You feel so good, daddy,” you whined every time he withdrew himself all the way out and plunged his dick all the way inside, hitting your cervix in the process. It was all too much, yet not enough. And if it was possible, his cock felt like it was swelling inside you the more he was moving. 
Stephen then moved and arranged for you to lay on your side before he entered you again. His palm pressed your thighs as he thrust forward. As if it was possible, he felt even deeper than ever before.
The large penthouse was filled with nothing but the sound of your moaning and the sound of the way his hips slapped against yours. Occasionally, you could hear him groaning and grunting from the effort. 
Stephen’s leaned forward all the while that he was fucking you with determination, and cupping your chin with his hand, turning you to face him.
You could barely hold eye contact with him as he was moving at such a rigorous pace. His thump pressed again your lower lips, and instinctively, you opened your mouth, welcoming his fingers.
You were so in a daze and so cockdrunk and at this point that you began sucking on his thumb so needily.
Stephen almost lost his shit then and there as he watched you intensely. He exhaled sharply through his nose when he felt your wall begin to flutter again around his cock. 
He knew you won’t be long and he knew he won’t be long either.
“Baby, do you want to come?” He asked
You nodded. “Please, please I’m so close.”
Stephen grunted as he turned you on your back and began to pick up his speed. His teeth bore as he continued to pound with determination, chasing both yours and his own release.
And then all at once, you strained beneath him as he continued to move. You came so suddenly and so hard that you forgot how to breathe for a second. Stephen climaxed not too long afterward as he stopped his movement altogether. 
His eyes fluttered as his mouth hung agape. His body strained against you as he knelt there for a moment. 
Then there was silence as you were able to breathe again. Stephen pulled himself out and quickly discarded the used condom right into the trash can. 
You were still in a daze, unable to comprehend what had happened–hell, this may have been one of the best sex you had in a while.
The doctor came back with a tall glass of water and he placed it on the coffee table beside you before he settled just behind you on the large couch. 
“How are you feeling?” he asked, his lips brushing lightly against your shoulder.
“Good. Really good.”
Stephen could feel you smiling through your reply and he couldn’t help but feel relief. He knew he was moving too hard and too fast–especially with this arrangement, but you have been nothing but so accommodating and agreeing to it so easily that he didn’t know how to react.
“I’m glad,” he murmured against your skin. “You don’t find it weird, do you? This arrangement, I mean.”
“No. I actually was surprised that you wanted us to be like that. I don’t mind it. Like you said, as long as I consent and am comfortable with it, right? I’m more than comfortable with this–hell, this is more than I would ever have in my lifetime, to be honest with you.”
Stephen smiled against your skin. “Can you live like this for a whole year though? Dealing with me and my…needs–all without love and all that.”
You thought for a moment as you lay there, staring out into the city outside. “It’s better than living off paycheck to paycheck,” you replied back. “I have no problem being with someone much older than me if that is what you meant. I am a consenting adult, and this relationship benefits me as much as it benefits you, so I am not ashamed of it.”
Stephen nodded in understanding before he propped  himself on his elbow and looked at you. “Good, because people will talk, and I won’t hesitate to shut them up. I’m just concerned about you, that is all, so thank you for reassuring me,” he said before leaning in to kiss you. 
“You know I’m not afraid of them,” you smile cheekily, though deep inside you knew that it was you who you were afraid of the most. After all, now that you and he are involved in this relationship, it wouldn’t be hard for that line to cross, and your little crush on him would turn into something more.
565 notes · View notes
aangelichaos · 10 months
Text
Heating Pad
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Summary: Joel helps you feel better while you're on your period
Rating: G
Word count: 0.6K
Warnings: Age gap (Reader is in her early 40s, Joel is in his early 50s), sorta hurt/comfort
A/N: I’m on my period rn and I’ve been ✨suffering✨ and it’s also my bday so I’m writing this little drabble because I deserve it. I just KNOW Joel knows how to deal with this stuff, given he was a single dad raising a girl and then basically became Ellie’s dad. Also I accidentally posted this on my alt initially so it's there too ig. Oops lol
Tumblr media
You can’t remember the last time you’ve been in so much pain.
Period cramps usually aren’t this bad for you. Obviously they still hurt, but it’s never anything that some medicine can’t fix. This, though? This is an entirely new level of pain. Nothing has been able to help so far- not painkillers, not your heating pad, not the tea Ellie so helpfully made for you. You groan, holding your waist and curling further into yourself, hoping that it will somehow ease the pain.
“…Sweetheart?”
You look up to see Joel standing in the doorway. You give him a weak, pained smile that probably looks more like a grimace. “Hey, Joel.”
He walks toward you, sitting on the edge of your bed and running his hand along your back. “That time of the month, huh?”
You nod. “I’ll be okay, don’t worry about it.” As soon as the words leave your mouth, a wave of pain washes over you. You wince, sucking in a breath, and look up at Joel. He looks completely unconvinced, worry evident on his face. “Really, Joel. I’ll be fine. It’s just cramps.”
“Honey, I don’t care if it’s just cramps, I’m not leaving your side until you feel better, okay?” he says, laying down next to you. “Do you honestly think I’m just going to leave you here while you’re clearly in pain? Come on, you know better than that.” He smiles, wrapping an arm around your waist.
You laugh a bit at that, burying your head in his shoulder. “I know.. I just don’t want to make you worry when you don’t need to.”
He kisses your forehead. “I know, baby. But you gotta understand that I want to be there for you when you’re hurtin’. I just wanna help you feel better.” He brings your hand to his mouth, pressing his lips to it. “How can I help?”
You sigh. “I don’t fucking know, Joel. I’ve tried everything I could think of, but they won’t go away.” You pull him closer, holding him against you in hopes that maybe his warmth will help with the pain.
“Oh, honey…” he whispers as he rubs your back soothingly. “You’re gonna be okay, I promise.” He pauses for a moment, and you can practically see the gears turning in his head. “Has anything at least been able to help? Make the pain a bit more bearable?”
“The heating pad, I guess?” You shrug. “Didn’t do much, but it worked better than anything else I tried.” You grimace as pain overcomes you again.
“Well, where is it? Even if it doesn’t do much, you should at least have it with you.” You gesture vaguely to the floor, and he spots it next to the bed. “Here, doll.” He hands it to you. “Lay back, don’t curl up like that. I know you want to, but it won’t help.” He plugs in the heating pad. “Where’s it hurt, your waist?”
You nod. “Joel, you don’t gotta do all this.”
“That’s where you’re wrong. Gotta take care of my favorite lady.” He puts his hand over the heating pad, adding slight pressure. “Oh, you poor thing, can’t imagine how much it hurts.” He leans in and kisses you softly. “Anything else I can do for you, angel?”
You shake your head. “You’ve done more than enough, sweetheart.” You cup his cheek with your hand. “You’re too good to me.”
He smiles, putting his hand over yours. “Just givin’ you what you deserve.”
You pull him towards you, hugging him tightly. “Thank you…”
He hugs you back, squeezing you against him. “No problem, hun.”
Even though cramps are still wracking your body, you’ve never felt so at peace as you lay wrapped in Joel’s arms.
104 notes · View notes