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#the comfort drabbles
btsrunmylife · 2 years
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Hi there,…I got in my first car wreck today and it was very scary, I’m still shaking as I type .. Couuld I maybe have a comfort drabble with one of the guys? Doesn’t matter which member..Thanks you
fkasdljflksa anon!!! I hope you're okay!! I mean, logically, I know you probably are because you wouldn't be typing this if you weren't, but I'm sending you so much love and many hugs!! 
Ahhh, okay, I couldn't choose a member....so have all of them!!! (Except this did turn out to be a bit more Jimin centered, mainly because I think he’d be the one clinging to you the most after something like this...anyway, I hope this helps!) I’ve been in a bit of a writing rut the past few days, but I did my best 😭💜
P.S. I almost got into an accident the other day and would have if it weren’t for the break assist in my car. I was trembling from head to toe for a good hour afterwards, so I know how that part feels. Ugh, it must have been so scary! *cuddles you*
I used “they” as the pronoun because I didn’t want to assume 🥺👉👈
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The Comfort Drabbles – About | Masterlist
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The chorus of your name can be heard before you even hear your front door being opened. You cringe at the cacophony of noise, only to have the breath knocked out of you as a body collides solidly with yours.
A pair of arms coil around you like a vice, squeezing you as if afraid to let you go.
“Jimin, let _____ breathe,” Namjoon sighs, but that doesn’t stop him from getting a good look at you as soon as Jimin sheepishly steps away. His eyes roam over you. “Are you okay?”
“Of course not!” Jimin yelps, hands now roaming as if in search of an injury you don’t actually have. “They were in a car accident.”
“How’s the car?” Yoongi’s grumbling question comes from somewhere behind all of the men trying to get a good look at you.
“How’s the car?” Seokjin laughs incredulously. “They were in a car accident and all you can think to ask is how’s the car?”
“Well, clearly they’re okay,” Yoongi argues defensively.
Taehyung rolls his eyes. “How would you even know that? Did you ask?”
“Guys,” you say, trying and failing to get their attention. You’ve pretty much resigned yourself to getting surveyed by Jimin’s hands patting over your arms, shoulders, and back, but you know he won’t find anything. Physically, you’re okay. Mentally, though, you’re still there. Still sitting in the driver’s seat with your fingers clutched to the steering wheel, knuckles turning white and heart threatening to beat out of your chest.
As you’d pulled your hands away from the wheel, your hands had begun to tremble. Then your arms and legs were soon to follow. By the time you had stumbled out of the car, you were shaking like a leaf.
It was your adrenaline, a responding officer had reassured you, but still…even an hour later you couldn’t shake the tremors.
Jimin seems to notice and grips your hands with a frown, peering into your eyes with newfound concern. “____? Hey, hey, you’re okay.”
Your bottom lip starts to wobble before you can stop it and he’s quick to pull you back into his arms, spinning you around so he can shoot a glare in Yoongi’s direction.
“Does this look okay to you?”
Yoongi sighs, shoulders drooping as he waves a hand and makes his way into the kitchen. He’s not being dismissive, you know better than that. He just hates when Jimin gets like this. Hates when too many people are making a fuss at once. He doesn’t want to overwhelm you.
“What do you need?” Jungkook whispers, fingers tugging idly at the back of your shirt before they drift across your back.
You sniff and shrug, annoyed with yourself for being emotional about something that already happened. But the truth was, it was scary. You’d been terrified, angry, and upset all at once. You’d felt like screaming and crying and punching the steering wheel and curling into a ball and--
“I’ve got the kettle going,” Yoongi mutters from the doorway. He nods toward the couch. “How about a movie?”
“I’ll make food,” Seokjin offers, happy to have something to do.
“I’ll pick the movie,” Jungkook agrees, lips pouted in thought. “Something soft and easy to watch.”
“I’ll…clean something,” Hoseok mutters quietly, disappearing into the kitchen.
“I’ll get the blankets,” Namjoon offers.
“Be careful,” you mutter, having at least a little presence of mind to tease him about the time he accidentally knocked an entire shelf down in your closet when looking for those very blankets.
His cheeks tint pink at the reminder and he huffs, muttering, “You knock down one shelf…”
“Come cuddle,” Jimin coaxes you, guiding you toward the couch and pulling you into his side. He wraps his arms around you like a baby monkey, clinging to you and nosing at your hairline. Taehyung takes a seat beside you, pulling your hands into his lap and running soothing circles over your palm.
“You must have been so scared,” Jimin sighs, eyeing the way your hands still shake in Taehyung’s.
You don’t have the energy, nor are you in the mood, to voice it, so you nod instead.
Jimin kisses your head. “I’m sorry we weren’t there with you.”
You make a noise in the back of your throat. “Don’t be. You might’ve gotten hurt.”
“You could have been hurt,” he points out, fingers drifting over your arm. Between his gentle caress and the way Taehyung’s fingers massage into your palm, you feel yourself starting to relax.
“I know,” your voice comes out a mere whisper and Jimin’s grip tightens around you.
“But you weren’t,” he whispers back just as quietly, burying his face in your shoulder and planting a gentle kiss there. “I’m so glad you’re okay.”
You pout. “The car–”
“We’ll worry about that later,” Jimin pulls you further into him, leaning you backwards so you’re both lying back on the arm of the couch.
“I chose a Disney movie,” Jungkook mutters as he sits down on the floor in front of you, close enough that his back presses against your knee.
“Relax with us,” Jimin mutters warmly in your ear. “You’re here. You’re okay. That’s all that matters to me.”
“To us,” Taehyung interjects, gaze still fixed firmly on your hands, even as he listens to the two of you.
You muster a weak smile, cuddling further into Jimin. “Thank you.”
“I didn’t break the shelf!” Namjoon cheers, lugging the heavy quilt from your room.
Jimin snorts. “See? He didn’t break the shelf. The day’s turning around already.”
Your smile turns more genuine and you nod, comforted by the thought that even though they hadn’t been there with you, they still want you to be okay. Even though it’d been scary, you’d made it out without getting hurt. Are you still shaken up? Yes. Would you think of it the next time you got into a vehicle? Probably.
But right here, right now, you’re okay. And that’s what matters.
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nezuscribe · 7 months
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gojo fucks you so well because he's so terrified that any time might be his last. he holds you close to his chest, your sweaty bodies writhing against each other as you can't get any closer, and he pounds into you like there's no tomorrow.
his brows are furrowed, his lips as curled tightly as if to contain any of his moans.
"'toru, fuck, wait..." your nails are scratching deep red lines on his back, your brows furrowed in pleasure, but confused as to why he's like this. normally he's slow, teasing.
he doesn't answer, his eyes connected to where the two of you meet, your essence dripping down his balls. his hair is falling into his face, his breath hot against your neck as he buries his face in it, sucking on the column of your skin, his tongue soothing over where his teeth would nip.
he wants to mark you. he wants you to carry him on your skin because a part of him deeply worries that some night might be the last time he could do this.
he angled his hips to reach into you deeper, your back arching as your tits pressed against his solid chest, his lips finding yours as he hungrily made out with you, his grip on your waist tightening.
"love you," he'd mutter against your swollen lips, his eyes finding yours as he picked up his pace, "love you s'fuckin much."
and he fucks you to show you how he means it.
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dmitriene · 7 days
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simon riley loves himself a chubby girl — being a big man he is simon addicted to the feel of weight against him, as well as the softness, plushness of the supple flesh, and he isn't small by himself at all.
he's got a lot of muscle mass, a wide body with a small belly and wide palms that will fit perfectly on your body, he's ready to swear he's just going crazy when he sees the chubby girls, and you've come to him at the best time to knock a man to his knees before you.
simon is gentle and caring — all the best for his girl, he can't keep his hands to himself, he can't stop carrying you in his arms like a princess and moving mountains for you alone, he even learned to cook, no matter how difficult it is, just to please you with your favorite treats.
and he especially loves you in the bed, with passion and tenderness, stroking the supple skin and every fold and your pudgy belly as if you were about to shatter like a marble sculpture.
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simon treats you like one, too — calloused and rough, wide palms caress every hollow and stretch mark that forms on your skin like tiger stripes with a tenderness that makes you shudder, fingers greedily, almost possessively gripping your rounded ass and digging in before moving to your waist.
he caresses, kisses, whispers sweet words of affection that slip past his thin lips with rumbling purrs like — “fricking hell you pretty, my beautiful girl with such a perfect, mind blowing body„ and you can't even muster anything harsh against yourself, tell him he's not right, because he is, you're a goddess to him.
a goddess with a sweet, fat pussy that he likes to devour with you sitting on his face, your body is literally limp and occasionally trembling with small convulsions of pleasure while simon's crooked nose fidgets and rubs against your clit, his wide tongue flattens against your weeping, fluttering cunt.
you drown his face in your honey like sweet slick and creamy cum, letting it dribble past your folds against his lapping tongue that already curls deeper again — simon won't let you off till he pulled at least couple of orgasms out of you.
because he likes to see how you look when he folds you in missionary, to see your glossy and half lidded delirious gaze, your body feels even softer, limp after all that he's done with his tongue, emptying you completely and leaving only mess and pulsing need in your puffy, clenching pussy.
so simon will fuck you nicely, stuffing you full of his meaty cock as you'll cunt grip him tightly, sucking him balls deep and he wouldn't even mind — harsh rolls of his hips leaving you gasping and mewling into the thick air, skin glistening with sweat as he toys with your pretty, rounded tits and cups them as gently, while rearranging your insides.
he'll make you cum again and again, fill you with his potent, creamy loads just to see how it dribbles out of your gooey cunny, making simon's every new thrust squelch.
and he won't stop fucking his pretty girl into the mattress, with his slightly pudgy stomach rubbing against your belly — until you squirt all over the sheets and shake against the sheets, vision whitening out as your cunt clamp and pulse around his fat length, with simon grinning smugly.
✎ 𝘮𝘢𝘪𝘯 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵. 𝘲𝘶𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘴. 𝘢𝘰3.
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mariespen · 3 months
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Never Alone ₊✩ˎˊ˗
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rafe x reader angst/comfort ⊹˚.⋆ Summary: Rafe goes to sleep alone after reader doesn't listen to him, but something's missing. Warnings: arguing/yelling, reader being in the wrong, insults and some stronger language
⊹˚.⋆︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵⊹˚.⋆
“I can’t believe this.. I can’t believe you.” Rafe said, pointing an accusatory finger and shaking his head in disappointment.
You stood there, any bit of attitude that you walked in with had left your body the moment you saw the look in his eyes.
“Rafe, I just lost track of time!” You protested, unintentionally sounding whiny.
“You don’t fucking listen!” His voice raised and you stood smaller as he continued his rant, “Everything I say is in and out with you.” His eyes narrowed at your face.
There was only one thing that pushed Rafe off the edge; not listening to what he tells you. Months ago he had told you not to hang out with the pogues. Since then, you’d been sneaking around with them to not piss off your short-tempered boyfriend. 
It’s proving to be true that you also should’ve listened to him when he told you to be ready for a gala by 6pm sharp tonight. The Cameron family was being honored at the country club for being generous contributors after a particularly large donation made by Rafe’s father.  Of course, you found yourself adventuring with the pogues, stained with dirt and very far from home at 6pm. 
According to him, Rafe had been covering for you all night, saying that you had the flu and wouldn’t be able to make it. Your arrival was heavily anticipated because your grandfather was a big name in the country club. In turn, Rafe needed you there to make conversation and for a good excuse to leave early. He was beyond livid when he stormed into the house at 9pm and realized that you still weren’t home. When you finally tried to sneak into the bedroom thirty minutes later, praying Rafe was still away and racking your brain for believable excuses, he was waiting with an angry red face.
It didn’t help your case at all when Rafe saw JJ Maybank and Kiara Carrera driving away from his house.
“Rafe m’sorry-'' you tried to apologize again, but he cut you off.
“I don’t care!” He stared at you for a moment, taking in your expression before starting again, “Jesus, s’like you’re a child.” he mumbled, ready to end the night angry.
Until you rolled your eyes right as he turned around to face you again.
“Rolling your eyes at me, hm?” He said, the anger coming back into his tone, “y’know what? If you want to hang out with those assholes so bad, go on. S’where you belong.” He said, his tone biting into you as he turned again.
Tears welled in your eyes. You knew Rafe had brought you this kook lifestyle when you were struggling after your mother left the island. You thanked him for two weeks after you moved in with him, then the two of you didn’t speak about it. It’s been a year since then and this was the first time he had brought it up. You didn't think he'd hold it above you.
A sob escaped the confines of your throat when he slammed the door behind him. You let your body crumble, crying into your hands. He had barely let you get a word out and you hated him for it. You knew you were in the wrong, but his words kicked you in the gut.
You picked your own sobbing body up, quieting down and making your way to change from your dirty clothes. You could hear Rafe’s pacing steps and occasional annoyed sighs from downstairs. After wiping the dirt off of your body and getting changed, you laid in the huge bed the two of you shared, trying to distract yourself. You already knew that Rafe planned to sleep in a guest room downstairs and you told yourself it was fine. 
An hour passed and turned into two, the clock ticking as you eventually watched three hours pass. You were restless, just like how you always were without Rafe. You both couldn’t sleep without the other’s company. You were going to lay awake all night until a soft knock on the door sounded around the room and an exhausted Rafe tried to quietly walk in. You sat up, looking at his hooded eyes.
“Rafe, I’m so sorry..” You took in a breath as you prepared to spit all of your reasons out at once.
“No, m’sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.” He breathed out, sitting on the bed next to you.
“No, Rafe. I was irresponsible, baby please.. please forgive me.” You whispered your last words, tears forming again, “I’ll listen. I promise I’ll listen.”
“Shh baby..” He cooed, laying down and holding you to him, “we can talk in the morning. Js need you..” He muttered.
You meekly smiled into him, happy to know that his soft spot for you hadn’t worn thin.
“I love you.” You whispered into his chest, but the only response you got back were his small snores.
⊹˚.⋆︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵⊹˚.⋆
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superbat-love · 2 months
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Barry: Hey Clark, we heard about your recent breakup. Really sorry to hear that, man.
Clark: [gloomily] Yeah...
Bruce: [stares out the window]
Arthur: You will meet someone better suited for you one day—your destined soulmate.
Clark: I hope so.
Bruce:
Hal: I mean, who wouldn't go for you? You're strong, smart and handsome!
Clark: Thanks Hal.
Barry: Yeah! I’m sure you'll meet someone who's just as kind and attentive and knows how to cheer you up whenever you're feeling down.
Clark: Mn.
Hal: Hey, there's this new bar that just opened up in downtown Metropolis! We should go and check it out this weekend! Whaddya say?
Arthur, Hal and Barry stare expectantly at Bruce.
Bruce: [slowly turns to look at Clark] I like the look of your bleeding heart.
Arthur, Hal & Barry: ???
Clark: [visibly cheers up] Thanks Bruce! You know, it took a few attempts to grow those flowers in outer space, but I finally got it right! They look slightly different from those cultivated on Earth, but I find them unique. I'm glad you like them too!
Arthur, Hal & Barry: It worked?!
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ponderingmoonlight · 1 month
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JJK men doing the bicep trend. Their s/o will tie a pink string on their bicep and once they flex it’ll break off!!!
Doing the ribbon around biceps trend with JJK men
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Pairings: Gojo x fem!reader; Nanami x wife!reader; Toji x fem!reader; Sukuna x fem!reader
Word Count: 1,8k
Synopsis: Tying a ribbon around your boo's biceps and watching how they flex it off? Hell yeah.
Notes: not proofread, Sukuna's part is a little short because I wanted to get this out today, I'll have my knee surgery tomorrow so sorry for ignoring your comments and messages, I'll get back to you when life gets a little easier lol, totally love and appreciate your interactions, I hope you have fun with this!
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Gojo Satoru
„Come here babe, I need to show ya something real quick.”
You can’t help but yawn, annoyance dripping from every pore. Oh, your boyfriend is definitely too fit for the fact that it’s still dark outside. What time is it? If he woke you over a strange video he saw on TikTok again…
“Can’t this wait like…4 hours longer?”, you try to resist his urgent wish, shielding your tired eyes from the harsh light of the lamp above.
“I might forget until then. Hey, do you have like a band or something lying around in the bathroom?”
A…band? Your eyes dart towards him, nothing but sheer excitement written on his face. What on earth is Satoru up to now?
“My pink dress has a satin band around the waist I guess”, you mutter.
Maybe this is all he wants. Yes, he just grabs the satin band and goes straight back to sleep-
“Thank you babe!”, he shouts over his shoulder while opening your wardrobe with so much enthusiasm that the door almost falls out of it.
You flinch, rubbing your temple in a desperate attempt to keep yourself together. You love your boyfriend with all your heart, appreciate this childish side of him more than anyone else. But not when you have an important mission tomorrow and had maybe 2 hours of sleep…
“This better be something important, Satoru”, you mumble through your fingers, a sigh escaping your lips.
“Okay babe, ready to see something really big?”
“I swear if you slap your d-“
“Look at me!”
His insisting tone forces you to remove your hand from your face. There he stands, wearing nothing but a pair of boxers paired with a tight black shirt.
And a pink ribbon wrapped around his biceps tightly.
“Now watch.”
With one flex of his veiny biceps, the ribbon opens itself, your pink satin band falling to the floor while he looks at you expectant.
“I have one question”, you begin, eyes still resting on his delicious arm.
“Go ahead babe.”
“How on earth did you tie that ribbon yourself?”
He opens his mouth, nothing but pure outrage written on his face.
“Is this really everything you’re thinking about!? I just gifted you my strong arm!”, he barks overdramatically at you.
“You’re the best present ever”, you purr at your fuming boyfriend, gently stroking his arm when he finally gets back into bed.
“But if you wake me over something like that ever again, I’ll murder you.”
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Nanami Kento
“Why are you looking at me with those eyes, darling?”
You blush immediately, the day dream of that trend you saw earlier on your beloved husband not leaving your mind. Kento with a bow around his strong arm. Kento flexing his arm in front of you, causing the ribbon to open up.
…Just like your legs.
“You’re daydreaming again.”
You force yourself to look up at him only to find out that he’s already looking at you, soft eyes lightened by a spark of curiosity.
“It’s just…I saw that trend online and it kinda…reminded me of you…”, you mutter, embarrassment crawling up your veins.
You’re acting like a horny teenager over a man you call your husband for several years by now. Kento is the epitome of a gentleman, the most elegant male being walking on this earth. How stupid to even consider wrapping a ribbon around his biceps…
“Don’t be embarrassed, (y/n). Tell me what’s on your mind. What exactly is this trend about?”
He puts the paper he was reading aside and wraps his fingers gently around your chin, slowly but surely making you lose your mind. It should be forbidden for a single man to be this captivating. Should you…Just tell him? Your imagination runs wild, breath getting stuck in your throat by the simple thought of him actually doing this…
“Tying a ribbon around your biceps and opening it by tensing your arm��, you blurt out.
His eyes widen just the slightest. Oh no, does he think you’re weird, desperate, pathetic? You should really stop roaming around social media late at night-
“Why not trying it, then? Even though I don’t think I’m strong enough to untie a ribbon with my muscles.”
Wait…Did he really say yes? You blink over and over to make sure he’s not messing with you until he gets up and grabs a roll of ribbon from your cabinet before cutting off more than enough of the black band. Before you fully realize what just happened he takes off his dark blue shirt, naked skin getting exposed to the dim light of the room.
And your merciless gaze.
“Would you mind helping me out? I can’t tie a bow on my own with just one hand, darling.”
You force your mouth to stay closed, keep your palms from getting sweaty. This is your husband, goddamn.
Your husband, wearing nothing but his work pants. Your husband, holding up a black band, waiting for you to wrap it around his strong arm only because you couldn’t stop imagine him doing a stupid internet trend. Out of instinct, you follow the invitation of his stretched-out hand, fingertips pulsating against his firm muscles while you tie a perfect little bow.
Until he flexes his muscles, forcing the band to untie itself in slow motion. His beefy arm, veins threaten to pop open any given minute. How is it possible for a man to be in this shape when relaxed? Your gaze is fixated on his delicious sight in front of you – so focused that you don’t notice his other hand grabbing your chin before it’s too late.
“It seems like you’re enjoying the view”, he comments softly.
“Just because you are the view, Kento”, you clarify with a small smile, allowing him to drag you into his strong arms.
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Toji Fushiguro
“You want me to do what?”
You grab his arm tightly, doe eyes making it hard for none other than Toji Fushiguro to focus. What did you see on the internet again? “Ribbon around bicep”…What the hell?
“I want you to tie a pink ribbon around your bicep and pop it open with your beefy muscles”, you explain briefly.
“Come on babe. Why can’t I just wrap my hand around ya neck instead?”
“Tempting”, you purr, finger gliding over his firm chest delicately slow.
“But you’re the perfect match for that trend. Now sit your ass down and gimme your arm.”
Just before Toji is even able to press his longing lips against yours, you shove him onto the couch and position yourself on top of him, pink ribbon dangling from your fingertips.
“C’mon (y/n)”, he groans, pouting like a little child when you slap the hand that tried to dig into your butt away.
“Hold still. I need to concentrate”, you instruct him.
“Promise we’ll fu-“
“DONE!”, you scream out, the sheer excitement radiating from your voice making him stop mid-sentence.
His eyes follow your gaze, revealing a wonky-looking bow tied around his biceps so firmly that it might burst any minute.
“And now you want me to do what?”, he questions.
It’s hard to keep himself from smiling when you sit in front of him grinning like an idiot. Is that really all it takes? A fucking ribbon wrapped around his biceps? What a strange thing you are.
But still…
You look so breathtakingly gorgeous that he can’t keep up his annoyed façade.
“Flex your muscles babe!”, you instruct him, index finger poking into his biceps.
Fine, he’ll do you the favour. Slowly, he lifts up his arm before popping open the bow with ease, watching the shocked expression on your face.
“That trend was totally made for you, Toji!”, you shriek, your eyes still fixated on his arm.
“Let’s do that again.”
“I know something better.”
All it takes is a swift motion for you to lay underneath him, your hot breath escaping your lips in shock.
“I’m next, babe”, he breathes out.
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Bonus: Sukuna
“Why did I even agree to do this…”, the king of curses mumbles while you’re busy tying another ribbon around his arm.
“Hold still, I’m not done yet.”
“You already tied this one three times, (y/n). I’m getting impatient.”
“Oh, I know you don’t. Deep down you enjoy me caressing your arm”, you reply with a cheeky grin, carefully forming another bow around his fourth arm.
Tying a bow around a single arm already sounding inviting, but the stinging fact that your lover has not only two but four arms to offer for this delicious trend…There was no way in hell for you to resist this opportunity.
“Really deep down”, he grumbles.
“I’m done. Now stand still and don’t move until I say so”, you bark at him while taking a few steps back.
“Watch how you talk to me or I’ll-“
“Shut up Sukuna, your threats don’t work for me. Okay, flex your muscles in three, two, one…”
Out of instinct, he lifts up his four arms and pops open every ribbon you tied so laborious these pasts minutes. Damn, he really feels like an idiot, standing in front of you shirtless with pink ribbons falling from his arms. But that look on your face, the way you clap your hands in sheer excitement, that phone…Wait.
“Did you film this, brat?”
You blink a few times, the smile on your face disappearing as fast as it came.
“Maybe I did”, you reply, quickly turning on your heels and sprinting away.
“Delete that right now!”
“I will watch this every time I go to bed!”
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Tags: @arehzhera @ploylulla @tzubaki @beatrexworld @kenstarsworld @dazaisdick @hellkaiserinphoenix  @lauv4chuuya @shadowfoxey @starlightanyaaa @sindela @kayleegomez @sunshine7queen @magalimachete @mokoartpost @gatitam @idontknow1123 @creative1writings @sanicsmut  @mynahx3 @sad-darksoul @chilichopsticks @hellkaiserinphoenix @chuyasthighs0 @ynackerman9499 @keepghostly @wxwieeee @lovelyluna1 @froufrousnowman @hidazinie @tomiokathedepresso  @gojosrealwife  @coffeeluvr96 @mahi-tamashi @weebotaku21 @chaoticwinnercupcake @lees-chaotic-brain  @risuola  @sugurulefttesticle @wordskeeper @baku2345 @polarbvnny @ruixrei @bam-bam-bam-bame-blog @lavenderdrxp @localhehecat @alicerhr @kayleegomez @belovedvamp @wifenanami @chilichopsticks @dlwlrmas-world @oikawarz @darkstarlight82 @satoreo @luwumii @tachiharazsstuff @kentocalls @cheesemachine44 @ryva @kenjakusconcubine @baku2345 @komelrebi-san @deezy12299@busyreader17 @4pgletter @okay-it-is-ivy @iluvtoru @starlightanyaaa
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tojipie · 6 months
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what would it be like if toji had a needy cry baby gf 😣😣😣
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this is such a cute ask omg :(( had so much fun writing this! enjoy
content: anxiety, hurt/comfort, fluff
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the telltale sound of a buzzing phone wakes you from your catnap. you shift on the couch, lifting your head from toji’s lap to gather yourself.
“what is it?” he mumbles, pulling your blanket back over your shoulders to keep you warm. the hum of the TV almost lulls you back asleep, eyes fluttering shut.
“mm y’r phone is ringing.” you whisper groggily, rubbing your eye with the back of your hand.
“you wanna go get it for me?” toji asks, pressing a kiss to your hairline as you stand up from the couch, blanket still wrapped tight around your shoulders.
“it’s probably on the bathroom counter.” he notes, kissing you again as a thank you. he was always tender with you when you were sleepy. your heart soars as you make your way upstairs and into your shared room.
you can practically feel the ringing as you cross the threshold of the bedroom door, padding past the bed and into the connected bathroom with a hum.
he must’ve forgotten it here when the two of you had showered earlier you reason, shading your eyes from the lights the two of you left on.
you head towards the counter, grabbing the device and immediately dropping it onto the solid tile.
WHACK
… shit
“shitshitshit.” you curse, toji’s ringtone coming to a stop as soon as the phone had hit the floor.
your heart sinks to your feet all the way through the marbled tile and into the dirt as you approach the device, praying the sound it’d made on impact wasn’t as serious as you remembered.
“no.. nonono oh my god.” you whisper, immediately crouching down to pick his phone up off the floor, eyes filling with tears as you try to gauge the damage.
just as you feared, a massive crack running down one corner to another. the bottom left corner of the screen was completely blacked out save for a few blinking pixels around the edge, it’s touch screen barely responsive as your thumb runs along the electronic gash
hot tears run down your face as you realize the seriousness of what you’d done. toji needed this phone for work, practically had it on him at all times except for when he was at home.
he’d be mad at you, right? this was serious damage, something neither of you could brush off. his kindness only went so far you gathered.
and since when was bathroom tile that destructive? god, you were going to throw up.
“you ok?” your boyfriend yells from downstairs, turning your blood cold.
“yup!” you respond, voice shaking a little more than you intended. your wrap your blanket tighter around your quivering body, quickly wiping your tears with the soft fabric.
“who was calling?”
you curse again, tapping the shattered screen to try and look at the caller ID. you can barely make out shiu’s name with all the damage.
“it’s shiu.” you yell back, trying to soothe the redness around your eyes and nose in the mirror.
the stairs creak as you wobble downstairs, cheeks still wet with fresh tears. what were you even going to tell him? that you dropped his phone once and now it was practically unusable?
“hey thank you sweet gi—”
Toji’s face falls at the sight of you, immediately standing up to wrap you in his arms. your quiet sniffles turn into full blown sobbing as you clutch the phone to your chest, trying your best to hide it from him.
“what’s wrong pretty?” your boyfriend whispers, rubbing your back with a huge hand. the older man presses soft kisses to your cheeks and forehead, leading you over to the couch and pulling you into his warm lap.
“i dropped your phone.” you whimper, shaky hands fiddling with the device as you prepare to disappoint the love of your life.
“yeah?” toji mumbles understandingly. “let’s see it baby, don’t worry.” he reassures you, taking his phone from your lap and turning it over.
“it’s just it was still wet cause you were answering a text in the shower and it slipped from my hand and—”
you gauge his face for an inevitable scowl, maybe a scoff. whatever it was, you deserved it.
instead, toji smiles.
“oh my god.” you whimper. was he so mad that he had no choice to smile? was there simply not any other expression to convey how upset he was?
toji surprises you again as he throws the phone to the side, letting it bounce across the couch cushions.
“that’s it?” he laughs, rubbing up and down your sides.
“you sniffle again, wiping your eyes.
“whadduya mean that’s it… i broke it.” you practically sob, turning to get up from his lap.
warm hands circle around your arms, leading your smaller body back to his chest. the older man wipes your cheeks with both thumbs, pressing an impossibly soft kiss to your hairline.
“nothing I can’t get fixed.” he tells you, smoothing your hair away from your face.
“but it’ll be expensive..”
“not for me.” he laughs
“you should be me at me.” you mumble softly, guilt still knawing away at you.
“why would I be mad at you for making a little mistake?” toji’s voice is soft, reassuring. his chest is warm and he smells like a campfire, practically lulling you to sleep with how tenderly he holds you.
“I’ve literally had a bullet go right through my screen baby.” he laughs. “I’ve dropped my phone out of moving cars, I’ve had it run over. you think i don’t replace this thing every month?”
you gasp, head popping up from his shoulder. “a bullet?”
“you can thank shiu for that.” he mumbles, kissing you again.
“what I mean is it’s nothing i can’t fix.” he tells you, reclining onto the couch and pulling you with him. “how could I ever be mad you?” he whispers into your cheek.
you nod, the last of your tears drying up as your body relaxes on top of his. you hated how bad your anxiety got at times, clouding your judgement and effectively convincing you that the world hated you.
“tell you what.” he starts.
“tomorrow how about me and you go pick up a replacement for me, and then get you a new phone too?” he asks tenderly, tracing shapes into your hair with his finger.
“you wanted the new one right? in pink?”
you nod with a giggle, eyes fluttering shut as the sound of your boyfriend’s heartbeat syncs with yours.
“yeah.” you tell him shyly, fiddling with the hem of his shirt. “in pink please.”
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missmatchablossom · 1 month
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summary: you've been helping your neighbor, gojo satoru, out by babysitting megumi. when megumi's catches the flu, gojo relies on you for help.
a.n.: megumi is ~4-5 years old, and is extremely attached to you. a little angsty, mostly fluffy, a sprinkle of smut at the end. cursing, female reader.
~
The first time Megumi got sick, Gojo panicked. Not the frantic, frenzied sort of panic, but the quiet, desperate kind that he did his best to hide. But you noticed it - the way his fingers trembled, the way he barely looked you in the eye, the way he repeatedly ran his hands through his hair.
It was usually you who made the elevator trip up to Gojo’s high-rise loft to babysit Megumi a couple of days a week. That’s why it took you aback to see him at your door at 11:53 at night, looking stricken as he told you Megumi refused to eat all day and started throwing up. 
You followed him to his place immediately, your heart squeezing at the sight of Megumi bundled up in his bed, his little face scrunched up in discomfort.
“Hey sweetie, you’re not feeling so good?” you cooed, kneeling as you placed your cheek against his warm forehead. He shook his head, though his flushed cheeks and labored breathing were enough confirmation that he was sick.
“He’s running a fever. Probably a cold, but you should take him to the ER just in case,” you told Gojo, watching as his shoulders tensed. He was slightly older than you, but still young to have a child; you could imagine how anxious he was feeling about Megumi’s first ER visit.
“I can come with you,” you offered, watching his shoulders relaxed ever so slightly.
“Please,” he said lowly, looking at you like you were his salvation.
You made quick work changing Megumi out of his sweat-soaked clothes and prepared a small bag of his favorite snacks and toys. You caught a glance at Gojo’s awe-stricken face before you scooped Megumi into your arms and followed Gojo to his car. 
The silence in the car ride was heavy, Gojo’s stress was obvious in the way he gripped the steering wheel so hard his fingertips turned white.
“He’ll be okay. I’ll be here until he is,” you said gently.
His eyes flicked to you for a second before he swallowed roughly. He nodded, murmuring his thanks before you lost him to his thoughts.
Megumi was seen within the hour, the perfect patient as he allowed himself to be examined without a fuss (As long as you held his hand the entire time).
“It’s the stomach flu, pretty common for this time of the year. I’ll send you home with some medications, just be sure to keep him hydrated,” the doctor said.
“Let mom and dad take care of you, alright Megumi? You’ll get better in no time,” she said kindly, patting his head as he nodded sleepily. You looked at Gojo, waiting for him to correct her. But he didn’t.
As soon as she left the room, Gojo sank into the chair, exhaling heavily as he placed his head in his hands. It was strange to see a man so proud and confident to look so…tired. So human.
You stood between his legs, gingerly laying your hand on his shoulder.
“See? Megumi will be just fine,” you said, swiping your thumb back and forth over his skin.
“It’s been a long time since I’ve felt scared like that,” he admitted, reaching up to cover your hand with his.
“It’s how you know you’re a parent,” you said, moving your hand to cup his cheek.
He finally looked up at you, a mixture of relief, exhaustion, and something else painted in those eyes of his. You watched him wordlessly as he leaned into your touch, his long lashes fanning across his cheeks. 
After a beat, his eyes snapped open, looking downwards as a sleepy Megumi tugged at his pant leg.
“Home now please?” he asked groggily, barely able to keep himself upright.
The two of you laughed as Gojo lifted him into his arms, Megumi settling his head on Gojo’s shoulder. 
“Let’s go home,” he said, wrapping his jacket around Megumi. You could’ve sworn he was looking at you as he said it, though.
~
Sick Megumi was unexpecedly clingy. The first few times you babysat him, you were taken aback by how quiet and independent he was. Most kids his age demanded constant attention, but he was happy to be left alone with his two dogs. You did find out that shadowpuppets was a surefire way to get him to laugh, though. 
You tried getting Megumi to rest in his bedroom, but as soon as the preschooler realized you weren’t right next to him, he’d get up to wander Gojo’s loft, tearfully calling your name until he found you. That's why you decided to settle down on the leather recliner in the living room, Megumi asleep on your chest with a blanket draped over the two of you. You were immersed in your Kindle before the sound of the front door unlocking dragged you back to reality.
Gojos strolled in, stopping in his tracks when he noticed the two of you. His sharp eyes eyes softened as he approached.
“Welcome home. You’re back early,” you greeted quietly, your heartbeat quickening as Gojo lowered himself to a crouching position so he could sneak a look at Megumi’s face.
His eyes flickered to yours, full of emotion you couldn’t quite place. He swept a few strands out of Megumi’s eyes, studying him like he needed to confirm that he was breathing.
“I may or may not have snuck away,” Gojo mused, eyes full of warmth and mischief.
“Careful, or this one will begin picking up some bad habits,” you teased, rubbing Megumi’s back as he stirred.
“Nah, he’s too much of a goody-two-shoes. Besides, there are more important things than work,” he said fondly, and the way his eyes flowed between the two of you while he talked, it felt like he was talking about you too.
You averted your eyes as you blushed, thankful that Megumi chose that moment to wake up. 
His little fists rubbed against his half-closed eyes, looking between you and Gojo like he was wondering if he was dreaming. 
He reached his hands out towards Gojo, who readily scooped him into his arms.
“Alright, I’ll get going then. I already gave him his meds and a bath so he should be okay for the rest of the night,” you said, gathering your things as you sat up.
You leaned forward to kiss Megumi goodbye, only to be stopped by the tears welling up in his eyes and the grip his hand had on your own.
“Don’t go,” he said, almost making you cry with how sad and adorable he was. 
“Not fair Megumi. You don’t even cry when I leave,” Gojo teased, rubbing his back as you laughed.
“Gojo is home now my love, I’ll see you tomorrow though! I’ll already be here by the time you wake up,” you promised, wiping the tears from his soft cheeks.
Megumi sniffed as he shook his head, reaching his arms out towards you. You took him back into your arms, giggling at Gojo’s feigned hurt expression.
“I’m hurt, Megumi,” he said, making a show of wiping fake tears from his face.
“Oh no, look how sad he is Megumi! Don’t you want to spend some time with him?” you said, inching closer to Gojo, whose arms were outstretched.
Megumi looked at him for a second before shaking his head, burying his face in your neck. 
You laughed even harder at Gojo’s expression, unable to find Megumi anything except utterly adorable. 
“Fine, I get it. I would’ve chosen her too,” Gojo said, throwing you off with the affection in his smile. 
“I can stay untill he falls asleep,” you mouthed to Gojo, hoping he could read your lips. He smiled at you before leaning into your space, his lips brushing against your ear as he spoke.
“Or you could stay for dinner. As a friend, not a babysitter,” he whispered, sending shivers down your spine. 
“I couldn’t impose,” you replied, a bit more breathlessly than you intended.
“Nonsense. I’ve been dying to cook you dinner while you sit prettily in that chair,” Gojo said, seemingly pleased at the blush revisiting your cheeks. 
How could I say no to that?
~
The sun had set long before you were finally able to get Megumi to bed for the night, the moonlight seeping into Gojo’s living room through the enormous windows.
You allowed yourself to sink down onto his couch, the exhaustion from the day wearing on you. Though Megumi’s fever finally broke, he could barely keep his food down today, forcing you to go back and forth bathing him, changing his bedsheets, and cooking different meals to see what he could stomach.
The click of the door being unlocked made you jump, the familiar sight of Gojo making you forget about how tired you were.
He sauntered towards you, looking so enraptured that he didn’t speak a word. 
You froze as you understood why. The usual modest clothes you had on were long forgotten after repeated trips to the bathtub to wash the vomit and sweat off Megumi. The chaos of the day left you in your underclothes -  a thin tank top and cotton shorts - which Gojo seemed to be studying as though he’d never seen them before.
“Welcome home,” you began shyly, sitting up as you attempted to cover yourself with a pillow.
“Sorry about the outfit. Long day,” you continued sheepishly.
Gojo’s eyes finally snapped up to yours, somehow making you feel more naked than ever.
“Don’t worry about it,” he said, something unreadable in his tone. 
He changed out of his work attire - taking off his watch, loosening his tie, and stripping off his jacket. Completely normal things to do when you get home. But he captivated your attention, unable to tear your eyes away from him. 
“I can’t believe I’m jealous of a child,” he said to himself as he sat to join you on the couch, looking sinfully handsome with his hair tousled and the top buttons of his shirt undone.
“What do you mean?” you pressed, feeling your self-control begin to slip as you smelled as his cologne wafting towards you.
“Megumi gets to be with you all day. Gets to hug you, hold you, lay his head on your chest. I’m jealous,” he drawled.
You heard it again. That voice in the back of your head begging you to give in to the pull you constantly felt towards Gojo. 
You dared to inch closer, well aware of his gaze roving up and down your body.
“You can do those things,” you said slowly, never breaking eye contact with him. And just like that, he snapped.
He was on you instantly, pinning you to the back of the couch as his lips moved against yours, desperate and demanding. 
You kissed him back with the same fervor, shamelessly roving your hands over the smooth expanse of his chest, until you reached his hair. His silvery locks were just as silky as you expected, and you couldn’t help yourself as you gave them a light tug.
The deep, guttural sound that came out of him sent a wave of pleasure throughout your body. You felt your breath leave you as Gojo laid you on your back, positioning himself between your legs.
“I’ve wanted you since the day I saw you,” he murmured against your ear. His lips began moving from your jaw down your neck, causing you to gasp and squirm as he smiled against you.
“I kept myself on a tight leash for Megumi’s sake,” he started, trailing kisses across your shoulders.
“But you in that outfit? Fuck, I knew it was over for me,” he said, pulling back to admire how flushed and breathless he made you.
You grabbed the edge of his collar, tugging his lips to yours to return the favor. You wrapped a leg around his waist, pulling him even closer to you, his ragged breathing music to your ears.
“Fucking finally,” you said between kisses.
The sound of a thud coming from Megumi’s room caused you both to freeze. You rushed over to check on him, relieved to see he kicked his water bottle off his bed in his sleep. Sighing, you dragged the blanket back over his sleeping form, walking back to where Gojo sat on the couch.
His pupils were blown out, his lips bruised and swollen. 
“Maybe we should continue another time, I don’t wanna wake him up,” you said, surprised at Gojo’s lack of protest. Instead, he tugged you into his lap, placing a soft kiss on your cheek.
“Free your schedule next week. Megumi’s gonna spend a day with Uncle Nanami, and I’m taking you out on a date. And we’re gonna end the night in my bedroom, where you can be as loud as you want.”
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moonstruckme · 1 month
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hi! i've been stalking your page for literal hours and i love how you write poly marauders so much!! could you write how they would react to the reader coming home from a night out with a black eye or something like that?? <33333
Thank you lovely! And thanks for being so patient while I took literal months to get to this request haha, love you! <3
cw: reader is drunk and has a black eye
poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1.2k words
“Hey, gorgeous,” Sirius says as you come in the door. Remus shushes him, and he lowers his voice. “How’re the girls?” 
“Good,” you reply, cautiously quiet as you kick off your shoes. 
Rounding the couch, you see James asleep on Remus’ shoulder, a small puddle of drool soaking into the material of the taller boy’s pajama shirt. They’re all in pajamas, actually. Envy strikes you through the heart. They look so unbearably cozy, better than you in your scratchy jeans and too-tight top. 
“I hope you didn’t wait up,” you say as Remus flips his book closed, and Sirius chuckles. You’ll learn later that you’d been slurring your words. 
“We don’t mind,” Remus confirms your suspicions. “You didn’t walk home by yourself, did you?” 
You shake your head, flopping into the spot beside James on the couch. Only you hadn’t quite thought that through, and Remus tuts as he starts to rouse. 
“Sorry,” you whisper. “Um, the girls dropped me off out front.” 
Sirius nods his approval. James hums as he picks his head up off Remus’ shoulder, spotting you. 
“Hey, lovie.” He transfers his affections to you, wrapping his arms around your neck and letting himself weigh heavily against your front. You giggle, your favorite monkey. “Did you just get home?” 
“Uh-huh. Oh, Jamie!” You gasp as a memory makes its way out of the fog of your brain. “I saw something you would have loved.” 
“What’s that?” he asks. 
“We came across a dog park, and I didn’t even know those could be open at night but—” 
“No, angel.” He’s stopped hugging you, an unpleasant development, one of his hands leaving your neck to hold your cheek. “What’s that on your face?” 
“Hm?” You don’t remember anything getting on your face. “I dunno. Jamie, I’m trying to tell you about the puppies.” 
“Just hold on, darling, sorry. Is that a bruise?” 
“What?” Sirius is in front of you before you know what’s happened. Vampire-fast, you think fascinatedly, wondering if he’d have been a streak across your vision had you bothered to look. Though, to be fair, your vision is generally streaky at the moment. He takes your chin in his hand, tilting it up and to the side. “Remus, point your light here.” 
There’s a low creaking as Remus adjusts his reading lamp, and then you’re squeezing your eyes shut. 
“Jesus, what the hell?” 
Remus curses softly, and you squint to see him leaning closer to you. Your boyfriends’ faces crowd your vision like a three-headed monster. 
“Baby,” Sirius says, sounding heartbroken, “what happened?” 
“I don’t—can you move the light away?” 
More creaking, and you can see again. You blink, eyes watery, and Sirius lays a painstakingly gentle thumb over the skin beneath your eye. 
“It must be bad if it’s already bruising,” he says. 
Remus stands. “Then we should put ice on it.” 
You pout as he disappears into the kitchen, but Sirius recaptures your attention by turning your face toward his. 
“I need you to think.” He fixes his stare on yours gravely. His eyes are the color of the moon reflecting off water. You try to tell him so, but his frown doesn’t abate. “Listen,” he says, “what happened to hurt your eye? You have to remember.” 
You purse your lips, shaking your head at him. “I feel like I’d know if something happened,” you say self-assuredly. “It’s probably just makeup. Can you get me a wipe?” 
“Angel.” James’ eyebrows have hooked upwards in the middle. He’s looking uncharacteristically serious, too. Your boyfriends are really not being a ton of fun tonight, you think. “It’s all red and purple. You can’t tell me that doesn’t hurt, babydoll.” 
You shrug. That may be so. But if it doesn’t hurt, who really cares? 
Sirius gets up just as Remus comes back with what looks like a balled-up dish towel. He passes it to you with a tender look on his face. 
“Put this on your eye, honey,” he says. Then, “Sirius, love, where are you going?” 
“To call Evans.” 
You touch the cloth to your eye, but it’s freezing cold, and you opt to let it rest in your lap instead.
“She won’t even be home yet,” Remus argues. “And what do you think you’ll accomplish if you do get ahold of her? She can’t tell us anything now that she won’t still know in the morning.” 
“What if somebody did this to her? If Evans saw, I want to know about it tonight.” 
“Don’t you think,” James says, “that if someone hit her, the girls would’ve come in and told us?” You lean against his side, and he wraps an arm around you automatically, rubbing your shoulder. He smells like strawberries and laundry detergent and something ineffably homey. “They wouldn’t have just dropped her off out front.” 
“What if no one saw?” 
“Then what do you think calling will do, love?” 
“I just…I feel like I have to do something. Don’t you?” 
You lean your head on James’ shoulder and snuggle into the familiar sounds of your boyfriends’ voices, overlapping and intermingling. You don’t realize they’ve gone quiet until Remus’ hand wraps around yours, and you open your eyes. 
“You’ve got to actually hold this on your eye,” he chides lovingly, taking the dish towel from you and pressing it to your face. 
The edge of something hard beneath the cloth digs into a tender spot beneath your eye, and you flinch. “Ow.” 
Remus’ forehead creases sympathetically. “Sorry.” 
But the pain brings another memory out of the fog. You pick your head up as you feel your good eye widen in realization, meeting Sirius’. 
He flicks up an eyebrow. “What’re you smiling about?” 
“I remember what happened,” you admit, a touch of embarrassment to your tone. And if you hadn’t had everyone’s attention before, you do now. 
“What was it?” James rubs your shoulder reassuringly. “You can tell us.” 
“It’s…when we were at the dog park, I got distracted.” 
Remus’ eyes narrow. “Go on.” 
You rub your lips together self-consciously. “I may have walked into a sign. About poop bags.” 
James leans away from you to see you better. “Like, a metal sign?” 
You nod, and he winces. 
“Ouch, lovie.” 
“Fucking hell.” Sirius covers his face with both hands, loosing a big breath through the cracks in his palms. Remus reaches back to pats his leg consolingly. “I was ready to go after whoever did that with a tire iron.” 
You shrink into the couch cushions. “Sorry.” 
“You could still take a tire iron to the sign, I suppose,” James says. 
Sirius ignores him, crouching in front of you and taking your face in both hands. Remus lets the cloth drop rather than maneuver around him. “Don’t ever scare me like that again, understand?” 
“Yeah,” James agrees, “if you injure yourself in the future, ask for a pen and make a note on your arm or something. Save us the worry.” 
You lean forward, pressing a lingering, heartfelt kiss to Sirius’ cheek. 
“Thanks for worrying,” you say, and where your lips touched him the skin glows pink. 
“You’re taking years of my life, you know,” he says quietly. 
Remus chuckles. “Don’t worry. It looks good on you.” 
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btsrunmylife · 2 years
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sam dear, i hope you are doing alright and that it's okay to send in a comfort drabble request ♡ i have been struggling a lot with the concept of not being perfect at doing something (almost) right away, especially at my first big girl job (!!!) — that pressure i put on myself has been a lot and it's only week 1 ;_; my mind is gravitating towards hobi here, that quiet yet soft serious side of him? jokes could work but i just know there is that part of him that gets it when someone he cares about is tired and lost in their thoughts ;;;; of course, take your time ♡ and thank you, for everything. i love you ♡
ceeeee!!! hello lovely!!! Let me just say that I can definitely relate to this and it’s why I’ve had to leave it sitting in my inbox for a couple days 🥺 It’s so easy to get impatient with ourselves when we don’t immediately understand something or aren’t able to do something immediately after being shown. But I can assure you it’s normal. There’s a learning period and I hope you find it within you to give yourself that space to learn. You’ll have it all down in no time. You’re smart and capable enough.
Oof, anyway! I’ll stop rambling now and let Hobi do the talking instead 🥴😂 I hope you find comfort in this! Wishing you the best of luck in your big girl job (eeeeek, congratulations!!! I’m so endlessly proud of you!!!!)! 💜✨
I love you to the moon and back, beautiful! Take care of yourself, okay? The world needs your shine and we can’t have that without its source being taken care of. Remember to treat yourself with the same love, compassion, and kindness you give others. 😌 You deserve those things too!
Okay, okay! I’m going! Here’s Hobi  (ノ◕ヮ◕)ノ*:・゚✧
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The Comfort Drabbles — About | Masterlist
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It’s not that you don’t know it’s okay not to be perfect all the time. You know, logically, that you’re human, capable of making mistakes and that you can’t be expected to know everything immediately. Can’t be expected to do things you’ve never done before. 
You know these things. You acknowledge them.
But it’s oh so very hard to remember them when you’re in the midst of a new experience and you just…aren’t picking things up as quickly as you’d hoped.
You sigh tiredly into your afternoon coffee, having just unloaded all of the awful truth of your supposed failures of the week to the man across from you. Having taken one look at you when he brought you your lunch for the day, he’d frowned and invited you out to the park, claiming it would be good to separate yourself from the problem. He claimed that the fresh air would do you some good – especially when the alternative was you taking another lunch break, stewing over all the things you still have to learn.
He sits across from you now, on the other side of the picnic table, and purses his lips, his brows furrowing in contemplation. “I think you’re being too hard on yourself.”
Your gaze flicks back up to him, eyebrows raising slightly. “Eh?”
He hums, nodding to himself as he gives it a little more thought. “Yeah, sure, I’m sure it’s frustrating, not knowing how to do all these things yet. But nobody expects you to. You have to give yourself time to actually learn. Would you expect someone who’s never driven a car before to know how to parallel park?”
You blink. “Well, no…”
“Exactly.”
You huff out a sigh. “But I’m not trying to parallel park–”
“It’s the same concept,” he shrugs. “I just think you’re putting too much pressure on yourself. You can’t expect yourself to do something flawlessly for the first time. Sure, that sort of thing can happen, but more often than not, things take time to master. I didn’t learn to dance the way I do in a single day. Jungkook didn’t learn how to box properly without lessons. Namjoon still can’t drive because he’s never learned how–”
You snort out a quiet laugh at that.
His lips tug up at the edges, but his expression falls serious again when he reaches for your hand, giving your fingers a brief squeeze. “Seriously. You’re doing great. You may not be able to see it, but you’re making more progress than you think. Just give yourself time. You’ll look back at all of this and wonder why you were so worried. You just have to trust yourself.”
You feel a bit of relief wash over you, a few of your burdens lifting from your shoulders, even if in the back of your mind the thoughts still circle. You smile, turning your hand over to capture his fingers. “Thank you, Hobi.”
His smile matches yours. “Of course!” He shrugs. “Besides, I know you’ve got this. You’re more than capable. I believe in you.”
And while his words aren’t a fix-all, don’t immediately erase your doubts and insecurities or make you believe in yourself, it makes you feel better knowing that at least he believes you can do it.
Maybe you can succeed after all.
And maybe, just maybe…his faith in you is a sign that you can believe in yourself too.
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enluv · 4 months
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boyfriend texts – ft. enhypen
pairings: OT7 enhypen x (mostly) gn&fem!reader
genre(s): mostly fluff like 99% of this is, comfort/comedy, established relationships, enha love their partners and it makes me wanna scream at how cute they are with them !!
warnings: maybe cursing/dark humor, possibly angst if you squint hard enough at some of them?
enluv asks that you please do not spam like posts!
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coco’s ♥︎ note: happy new year my tooties!! It’s been a long year for us all, but sincerely hope it was a good one for you and that the next one will be even better if not! thank you for all the support you’ve shown me this year, I hope to continue to bring you new content when the new year rolls around :) I love you all and hope you enjoyed these small texts for enha! as always, feedback and reblogs are always appreciated <3
enhypen taglist — @yeoforce @bloom-bloom-pow @yourlocalhotgf @enhacolor @yoongimooni @gyuuss @eternallyhyucks @junityy @fxckingshame @stealanity @haoreo @chaerybae @bobariki @tytrackfebreze @veryjeongintxtkid @w3bqrl @queen-klarissa @odxrilove @s00buwu @j-wyoung @jiawji @palajae @aishigrey @txtlyn @jakeofalltrades639 @idkwatodoanymore @givemeakith @haechansbbg @mxlly143 (those in bold can’t be tagged 😞)
Want to be tagged? Check out the form here!
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dmitriene · 18 days
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helping simon to dye his hair, dark strands tangled with your fingers as you apply light hair dye evenly, brown eyes watching your every emotion as he squirms slightly on the chair, causing you to deliberately roll your hips and frown at him, his thick fingers flexing at your lush hips.
you cockwarm him, tight little panties pushed to the side so simon would be able to nestle his leaking, erect cock inside your gummy walls, relishing in the softness and content with feeling of your warm pussy gripping him tightly.
it makes him relax, to say the truth, not fidgeting much and letting you peacefully continue your task of dying his slightly overgrown hair, each gentle roll of your hips and small bouncing up and down his length, making his meaty cock all sloppy for you to glide on, makes simon more pliant.
he grunts quietly, brown gaze half lidded with infinite affection as he looks at your every move, light eyelashes fluttering prettily as his calloused fingers knead the plushess of your hips, rubbing up and down to your thighs, as you almost finish with your work.
it's good, to have you this close, with occasional soft kisses pressed either against his forehead or crooked nose, making simon almost purr out of the pure pleasure.
simon's body tingles pleasantly all over when he feels that you continued applying the blonde color on his hair, combing all of his hair back for greater comfort, as he busies himself in stealing couple of slow, long thrusts inside your sloppy cunt.
his cock brushes against your spongy spots messily, fat tip brushing the right place deliciously, and you let simon have his fun with an light mewl slipping past your lips — one that he swallows greedily with his lips on yours.
you both just better not overexpose the hair dye on his hair, or there will be even more work to deal with.
✎ 𝘮𝘢𝘪𝘯 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵. 𝘲𝘶𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘴. 𝘢𝘰3.
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tetsumie · 1 year
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"𝐘𝐎𝐔'𝐑𝐄 𝐒𝐎 𝐂𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐘"
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read part 2 here!
pairing: tsukishima x reader & suna x reader
genre: hurt/comfort
a/n: sorry i got carried away writing these ahh i sort of twisted the prompt of "when they call you clingy" into my own sort of thing idk how to explain but hopefully this turned out well :,) also not proofread so sorry about the mistakes! and as always feel free to send me requests and tell me ur thoughts on my writing!
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tsukishima kei
tsukishima, you, and a few of the former karsuno volleyball players decided to have a small little reunion dinner after not seeing each other for so long.
everyone's embracing each other with hugs and to be frank, it's really nice of him to invite you to meet his friends from high school! you're really looking forward to getting to know them and maybe even getting to know your boyfriend a bit more.
as all of you are sitting at the table debating what to order, there's much chit chat between everyone and you swear you haven't seen kei so carefree in a while. sure, he's still throwing his sarcastic, snarky comments but they don't hit too harshly towards his teammates.
they are most definitely used to this.
the food has arrived and way too much wine has been ordered. with their slurred words and pink cheeks, you can tell all of them are going to blackout the moment they all get home.
"kei, so how'd you pull this gorgeous girl?" tanaka asks out of nowhere "ain't no way she fell for your snarky ass personality."
you and him both let out a chuckle and he replied with, "nah, they're just clingy as fuck and i guess they were fun to keep around."
you go quiet and the laughter has sort of died out. but the drinks keep pouring and nishinoya speaks.
"god, you're a fucking asshole," nishinoya chimes. "she's way too good for you.
although the conversation begins to take a turn in a different direction, you can't seem to get his words out of your mind.
clingy. he thinks i'm clingy.
a ball of insecurity starts to form in your stomach and his comment starts the train of overthinking. you keep telling yourself that he's had too many drinks.
yet a part of you is telling you that drunk thoughts are sober words.
how long has he thought of me as "clingy?"
the small chuckles and laughs that escape your lips have come to a halt and now you're feeling incredibly insecure. you begin to zone out and start chugging down a few glasses of wine to drown out your surroundings.
after a few eventful hours, you and tsukishima decide to grab a taxi and head home for the night. he unlocks the door to your shared apartment and you immediately head into the bedroom to change your clothes, not sparing him a second glance.
tsukishima enters the bed after cleaning up and his arm drapes over your chest. your body goes completely stiff and you're super uncomfortable with his touch, especially after his comment about you being clingy.
the moment you hear his light snores, you slowly remove his arm off your body and turn to face away from him. a feeling of numbness begins to overtake your body and you feel a sense of emptiness within.
the next morning, tsukishima woke up with a horrible headache and he instantly regretted drinking so much last night. he groans and pats your side of the bed and is greeted by just the bedsheets and not you.
grumbling, he got out of bed in search of you and finds you standing by the balcony with a cup of coffee in your hand. in that moment, his heart skips a beat and he's reminded of how much he loves you.
you yelp in surprise when you feel two arms slither around your torso and his chin resting on your shoulder. "good morning baby," he kisses your cheek.
"hi kei," you say curtly.
"what's for breakfast?"
"i just made myself toasted bread with jam. you can just make some cereal or something. i think we still have your lucky charms in the pantry," you tell him.
he pulls away from you and he feels something is off with you. you feel distant.
the feeling is confirmed when the both of you are sitting on the living room sofa while watching the new episode of your favorite reality tv show. kei expects you to come close to him and rest your head on his shoulder like you usually do yet there you are, in his vicinity, but sitting on the other end of the couch, clinging to a throw pillow.
he can't seem to concentrate on the movie when the only thing he can see is you sitting to yourself, gone completely quiet. he doesn't know what's wrong and he can't rack his mind as to what might have happened that made you so distant.
after the movie ends, he kisses your forehead and he feels your body stiffen.
what's going on? i don't know what i did?
he pulls away and looks at you. "y/n, something's wrong," he states.
you refuse to meet his gaze now and your twiddling with your fingers. he seems to have no recollection of what he's said to you last night. although, he might not recall what he said, it's the only thing you can recall in your mind. ever since this morning, whenever, you look at him, the only thing running in your mind is his words, "nah, she's just clingy as fuck and i guess she was fun to keep around."
"we're good," you reply promptly. "don't worry about it."
he grabs your hands and puts them in his which catches you off guard. you love the feeling of his hand in yours but the rational part of your brain wants to pull away, thinking about how he thought you were so clingy.
"listen, i'm not good at this. i'm not good at communicating my feelings but for you, i want to do better. so please, it would mean a lot if you could tell me what's wrong so i can help you and... us."
this is the most genuine you've seen him in a while and although to most, it may have seemed like some half-assed speech but to you, it felt raw and vulnerable.
"ok well," you began. "last night, when we were out with your friends, you were talking with your friends and well, you mentioned something about me. and it made me wonder if you think i'm clingy?"
he was confused. "no, i don't think you're clingy anymore? i don't know what you're talking about?"
the "anymore" in his response to you was something that saddened you a little. he found me clingy yet never told me?
"so you did think i was clingy, right?"
with a deep breath, he began to explain himself, "when we got together, i wasn't really used to... being so close to someone. you would always hold my hand or loop your arm in mine or something. you would always be holding me or touching me and i wasn't sure how i felt it about it at first. i was never one for physical touch so when you began to show that to me, i just... it felt... suffocating."
you're looking into his eyes, swimming with sadness and searching for answers, and he feels a mixture of sadness and guilt as he continues to explain himself.
"but being with you, i've grown to love your touch and honestly, now that i think about it, i don't know what i'd do if you just stopped being yourself and clinging on to me. i would go insane if you stopped."
kei leans in for a hug and you hug him back. you missed holding him like this and well, you just miss him. but now that kei has said all this, you're not sure about anything anymore.
you pull away and tell him, "i'm sorry you couldn't tell me that you were uncomfortable with my touches. i should have asked you how fast or slow you wanted to go and i shouldn't have forced my affection on to you."
"if you want, we can slow down. i understand," you say with a tone of finality in your voice.
"no!" he immediately replied. "it's.. it's not that. you don't force your affection on to me. you never have. i just am awkward with affection and growing up, i've never had it so i'd get super fidgety and that's why i think i felt like you were being clingy. but i love it."
"i love it when you hold my hand when we're walking to the grocery store. i love it when you doodle on my hand with your fingers when we're waiting for the food to come when we eat out. i love it when you tell me about the little stories from work while you're cooking dinner. i love it when you mumble in your sleep and snuggle close to me when it gets cold at night. i love everything about you."
kei was very much out of his comfort zone as he told you all these things and it surprised you that he noticed all these little details. you could tell he was getting embarrassed, considering how his cheeks were turning pink. you couldn't help but let a little smile seep through your facial features.
"you're so sappy," you reply.
"oh shut up."
you both laugh and then he cups your cheek in his hand, rubbing his thumb in circles. "don't ever think you force your affection on me because you never do, okay?"
"okay, kei."
the both of you spend the rest of the day with one another, making comforting memories together that the both of you will fondly remember in the future.
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suna rintaro
you're not even sure how this argument even started. all you can remember is asking suna if he could accompany you to a work party that you were invited to. it was supposed to be a relatively relaxing event with not too much worries yet suna was once again trying to bail out.
"come on rin! it's one party and we never get to go out anymore," you try again for the nth time.
"y/n, jesus, i told you this, i don't want to fucking go! practice is draining me out and the one day i get off, you want me to go to some stupid fucking work party. can't you see that i want to be home?"
"we won't even have to be there that long! i just want you to come with me so you can meet some of my friends and support me. i'm really not asking for much," you counter. "i'm always trying to go to your games to support you from the stands and i'm asking you to do this one thing for me."
"i never fucking asked you to come to my games!" suna's voice began to rise and you felt yourself shrink. you had never seen him so intensely angry before. he was always so nonchalant so seeing this side of him made you nervous. "god, you're just so suffocating with everything. you always wanna do shit together, like jeez, give me a break. you're so fucking clingy sometimes; i just want space."
your mouth snaps shut and you can't find it in yourself to even reply. suna leaves the bedroom and you can head the jangle of his keys and the front door opens and then slams shut. a tear escapes from one eye and then all of a sudden, it's a full blown mental breakdown. you're sitting on the bed, crying off all your makeup.
after your cries turn into sniffles, you call up one of your colleagues, telling them you won't be attending the party. that night, you end up crying yourself to sleep.
suna had come home quite late that night after storming out.
in his head, he admits that the argument had blown up for no reason. but he just really didn't want to see your coworkers. he was cranky, annoyed, and irritated, making him deeply irrational.
as he walks into the bedroom, he sees you fast asleep in your clothes that you were planning to go out in and your makeup smudged all over your face. he felt incredibly guilty.
he messed up big time and he had to fix this. he hoped in the morning, the both of you would wake up together so he could talk it out and apologize.
you wake up the next morning feeling a lot better than last night. you turn to see suna lying in bed and a part of you just wants to run your fingers through your hair. as your fingers hover above his head, you're reminded of his words from last night.
you're so fucking clingy sometimes. i just want space.
your fingers immediately retracted and you decided to get up to start the rest of your day. you didn't want to let his words get to you. he said his opinion and there's nothing much you could do other than give him space. you'd be doing him a favor by giving him that space that he wanted, right?
suna shifts in bed, arm reaching out to your side of the bed, subconsciously. as he pats down your side of the bed, he feels the emptiness and he jolts up out of bed.
he's walking out of the bedroom and he sees you sitting on the couch, watching something on the television.
a sigh of relief escapes his mouth, thanking whatever deity out there that you hadn't left. even if you did, he couldn't blame you for it. he hurt you and there was no denying that.
"hi babe," he casually says alouds and plops on the couch next to you.
"hey."
your tone is cold and to be frank, you could care less than speak to him right now. seeing him is just a constant reminder of how clingy you are and you really don't want to be confronted with the feeling of sadness again.
in an attempt to smooth things over with you, he tries to start conversation in hopes that things will get back to normal naturally and maybe.. just maybe you'll know that he's sorry without him saying it.
"osamu was talking about some new onigiri thing he made and he wanted to drop some off for us to try. should i say yes?" he asked.
"sure."
your responses to his efforts are completely shut down and he's just praying that things get better with time. he reassures himself that things will go back to normal, it's just a matter of time. within a few days, things will be back to normal!
that's what he thought until his first volleyball match of the season came about. as he was standing in the court, his eyes scanned the rest of the stadium for your figure in hopes of finding you wearing his jersey but to no avail, he couldn't find you.
he assumed you were running late or stuck in traffic. no matter what you would be here, right?
but the first set is already over and you're nowhere to be seen. taking a quick break, he texts you:
suna: r u here?
suna: i don't see u in the stands.
it's delivered and suna's back in the court. he's misreading all of the opponent's attacks and his blocks are all being haphazardly done. the only thing on his mind is you.
the EJP coach calls for a timeout and sits him out for the rest of the match. "i don't know what's going on with you but you need to pull it together. your slacking is messing up with the rest of the team," coach berated him and all suna could do was nod his head.
he sat on the bench and immediately grabs his phone to text you.
suna: can you please answer?
suna: or call me? please?
suna: fuck y/n
suna: r u ok?
with no response, concern is etched onto his face. he tells his coach that he has to go and although he's about to suffer hell when he goes to practice tomorrow for dipping, he needs to see you.
you're seeing all of his messages.
you've seen all of them.
and you don't want to respond to a single one of them.
you know he's coming home and he's about to bombard you with questions and you don't want to respond to him. you don't want to come off as clingy again.
you hear the jangle of the keys and prepare yourself.
he opens the door and finds you in the kitchen, making yourself some snacks.
"so where were you today?" he begins.
"at home."
his hands find their way to your waist and he slowly turns you around to look him in the eye. "why didn't you come?"
you sigh in frustration. "i don't know what you want from me. you say i'm clingy and you want some space and on top of that you mentioned how you've never asked me to go to any of your games so here i am respecting your wishes like you asked yet you have the fucking audacity to ask me where i was and why i wasn't with you?"
his hands let go of your waist and he steps back to fully look at you.
"rin, i don't know what you want from me anymore."
suna's mouth opens and then shuts, not sure as to what to say to you. you were more upset about his comment than you let on and now all your anger and frustration was coming out.
"listen, i-"
"no, you listen to me," you interrupt, immediately shutting him up. "all i wanted that night was for you to come to my work party. it's all i wanted. that party was mainly for me because i helped our company reach this new milestone! and i wanted you to come and celebrate with me and my colleagues. is it so much to ask for my boyfriend to come support me?"
"and then you go on to say i'm clingy and do you have any idea how much it hurt me when you said that? when you would talk to me about anything, the only thing going through my head would be the fact that you called me clingy and god, i just wanted to vanish in thin air because i hated knowing that you thought that of me which is why i gave you your space. i kept thinking you just didn't want my affection."
you rest your elbows on the kitchen countertop and put your face in your hands. you finally burst out with all the feelings that have been suffocating your mind. it felt good to finally relieve it all but you could only imagine what was going through his mind. was he mad or upset or did he just not care about my feelings?
all of a sudden, you feel two arms wrap around your torso and kisses to the top of your head.
"love, you're not clingy. if anything, i'm the clingy one. i always want you by my side like at my games or when i go out with my friends or even if i'm just lying in bed. i want you."
he strokes your hair and now you're turning around to look at him again. his eyes are wide and a bit glassy. this is probably one of the first times you've seen emotion on his face aside from his regular snarky remarks.
"i wish i could take back what i said that night but i can't. but please know that i don't know what i'd do without you. i was really upset that night and all i wanted to was just sleep it off. but your insistence to go got me aggravated and i lashed out. you don't deserve that. you never deserve that."
"i want to be the one you wake up to in the morning. i want to be the one you take to all your work parties and events. i want to be the one you tell you gossip with. i want to be the one you have your late night talks with. i want to be the one you end your nights with. i want to be the one you spend the rest of your life with. i want to be yours."
tears started to escape your eyes and your heart was swollen. suna was never one to be so open with his emotions yet here he was opening so much to you. you hug his torso and sob into his chest.
"i love you, i'm sorry," you say.
"i love you too, and i'm sorry too," he replies, kissing the top of your forehead.
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© tetsumie 2023 all rights reserved 
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9K notes · View notes
jordanstrophe · 3 months
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Whumpee awakens curled in the backseat in someone's arms.
They look down, their entire torso is drenched with blood.
They start to panic, but someone holds them tightly. "Shhh, shh sh, it's okay, go back to sleep. Close your eyes." Someone grabs a blanket and covers their chest with it.
"You're going to be fine, I got you. Go back to sleep... Please."
A hand brushes over their face and closes their eyes. Whumpee finds themselves doing what the voice tells them to.
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munsonsreputation · 3 months
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i can't talk to you when i'm like this
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steve harrington x fem!reader
word count: [2.1K]
warnings: warnings: no use of y/n, established relationship, reader has a history of shitty ex's, steve accidentally makes reader cry, a lot of angst regarding past relationships (feelings wise), steve's shitty childhood & terrible dad (brief), fluff at the end (yes because i am a softie)
summary: steve never raises his voice at you, but the first time he does, you can’t find it in yourself to tell him what's really bothering you when you’re seconds away from breaking down.
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You hate how the tears coming springing to your eyes the second Steve raises his voice a little too loudly beneath his already apparent annoyance.
Your brain blanks out the second it bellows against the walls and comes hurtling down to your eardrums. It feels like glass shattering in a million different ways, cutting you open and killing you with a thousand cuts.
He’s frozen in front of you, blinking with a look of oblivion on his face because he’s waiting. His arms still held wide open after he asked a question: one that was posed with a tone too sharp for your liking.
“Why are you making it such a big deal?”
His usually sweet and gentle tone was long gone, or at least that’s how you heard it. Instead, it dribbled with irritation and resentment meshed all in one. The kind that sounded like he was fed up and wanted nothing to do with you anymore.
He was just trying to do a sweet thing by picking you both up some coffee and yet here you were starting an argument — you always had to ruin a good thing.
Your teeth dig into your gums, trying to find any way to hold off on the waterworks that you know are about to pour any second now. Cloudy orbs shoot down to your bare feet, trembling against the floorboards while you excuse yourself from the kitchen.
“I’m g-going to the bathroom.”
Your voice is delicate yet not the kind that Steve knows like the back of his hand — the one where you keep it so quiet like an oath when you whisper you love him when you think he’s asleep and no one else is around to hear it.
This time the oath is broken, cracked, just like your voice, torn at the seams between fear and panic. Its edges are frayed and tattered, and its tenderness that is usually formed out of affection is long gone as it cuts through your chest and causes your back to heave as you walk away.
He knows he messed up.
It’s stupid. You shouldn’t be so worked up over the barista leaving her number on Steve’s cup. But you are. You’re worked the hell up and you want him to understand why it is such a big deal to you.
It’s upsetting because you shouldn’t be this wound up and insecure. You know Steve would never even dare to dial the numbers left on the cup, let alone remember the name she left on there. He’s head over heels in love with you the same way you are with him — yet you just don’t get it.
You don’t get the way this makes your insides turn and the thoughts to start whirlwind in your head. At first you were just upset about the number, maybe even just mildly irked — but then the second Steve’s voice came to you like that… that’s when you entirely forgot how to even tell him how you felt.
Now you just felt stupid for making it such a big deal and turning it into this.
“Breathe….” you murmur to yourself jaw trembling as you try not to tense.
The tears finally roll when your back collides with the bathroom door and your shaky fingers lock it shut. Your heart feels like it’s on fire, one that consumes your entire being and engulfs you in the bluest blue instead of the blazing red.
The only thing keeping you from collapsing is the door that’s holding up your weight and it’s not long after that the person you love yet are avoiding is on the other side making it more difficult for you to attempt to make it seem like it’s not a big deal.
“B-baby… I’m so sorry.”
The apology comes in an instant, and you could almost feel his breath hitting your neck from behind the wood. You know it’s genuine…Steve has never ever made you cry. You feel now like you’ve taken everything out of proportion — you should’ve just giggled and said ‘oh that’s cute! too bad you’re my boyfriend!’
All of the things you wished you would have said play in your mind like punishment for the way you’ve acted. How you know you’ve turned the tables on him and made him look like the bad guy when he was far from that.
He was just shocked to come home and hand you your favorite drink only to be asked about the barista he barely gave his attention to. Your accusing voice after he did something nice wasn’t something he was expecting.
Your throat tightened, eyes squeezing shut as you tried to cover it up and make it seem like you weren’t upset. You shuffled from the door, towards the sink, turning it on yet making no move to put your hands under the water.
“I’m fine! I—I just had to wash my face!” You lie, trying to cover your tracks as if Steve doesn’t already know it.
There’s been times when things have upset you, not things that Steve has done, but things that life throws at you and most of the times you hate how wound up you get. Without failure, you sneak away, just wanting a moment by yourself to cry without anyone feeling bad for you or asking questions because they’ll never get it. They don’t understand that the littlest things can trigger something inside of you to completely shut down from the rest of the world.
No one gets it… but Steve does.
“Baby,” His voice is stronger this time, yet tender, “please, can I come in? I’m really sorry, I didn’t mean…”
Your fingers finally come in contact with the frigid water, dabbing the droplets over your eyes attempting to get them to settle instead of looking like you were just crying. There’s a sniffle that comes from you as you clear your airways and a pathetic smile that you press onto your face to try to hide how you’re really feeling.
The water shuts off and you’re opening the door, cutting his apology off altogether.
“I’m fine, Steve!”
Your voice isn’t swaying even with the volume it carries and neither with the faint laugh you give him when you meet face to face. Your lashes still bear the droplets of salt and your cheeks tinted red with the path they’ve traveled down.
He can feel the pain in your voice and see the wobble of your chin as you hold back everything inside. He hates that you feel like you have to mask how you’re really feeling when, in actuality, you should be furious at him for what he did.
“Baby,”
Sadness joins his concern, and he doesn’t bother to hide it — he’s not sure he can when his eyes leak the same emotion, “Baby, you’re not fine…I know you’re not fine.”
You scoff, rolling your eyes unconvincingly. “I literally am, babe… it’s cool. Everything is fine.”
He knows that now you’re trying to reassure yourself rather than him. Trying to play it off and make it seem like everything was okay. Like he’s just supposed to accept it and let you hold everything inside like torture when that’s far from what he wants.
Your attempts to brush past him are futile when his hands come out to hold your shoulders, his fingertips kneading your tense skin. He can feel the blood rushing from under your clothes and it’s not the kind of warmth you usually carry — you are blistering and if he looks hard enough, he can see the way your chest is trying to level itself out as you hold back.
It takes everything in you to not draw your eyes away from his because you don’t want him to know that you’re still feeling it. Feeling stupid and at the same time nothing at all because you don’t know what to feel anymore. There’s a whirlwind of emotions and none of them you can put a finger on because you’re just lost.
You just don’t want him to think you’re crazy… like you reacting to him raising his voice like that was something that would daunt him away.
One of his hands stops its movement on your skin, raising up to your cheek and cradling you gently. There’s a crease between his brows and his eyes seep with regret and guilt. His lips part and the words that leave them come in whispers and fragility — croaks and cracks guiding them.
“Everything isn’t fine… I acted like an idiot and raised my voice at you. I’m sorry baby, I—I never meant to do that on purpose. It just came out, but that isn’t an excuse.” He shakes his head at himself disappointingly because he knows better.
Steve was far from perfect in his own eyes, but he knew better because all his life if there was one person he didn’t want to be like, it was his dad. The dad that used to scream at his mother, and scream at him, and scream at the world when everything went wrong, and didn’t know how to talk if it wasn’t screaming.
He’d never forgive himself if he made you feel that way or even became a smidge of what his father was. But it wasn’t him who he was blaming for this — this was all Steve himself, and he knew that. Accountability needed to be taken from himself because the only person he was hurting was you and it was going to be okay.
Not in the heat of the moment, not ever.
You hadn’t even noticed you had tugged your bottom lip between your teeth, the faint taste of iron trickling onto your tongue when you realized you were biting down on the skin too hard trying to stop yourself from crying.
“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry baby, please just—just tell me how to make it better.” His voice pleads and reasons, wanting to make it right with you anyway he could.
You close your eyes, letting the tears fall as you feel his thumbs wipe them away. He’s done this times before, wiping away your tears that had spewed from another’s doing. Never did he ever think he would be the cause.
“I-it’s nothing… it’s stupid, I’m stupid and dramatic.” You swallow thickly, sniffling and twisting your fingers in your hand to fight off the lingering feelings.
He shakes his head. The obvious look of disapproval for your words covers his face because this was far from your fault. Sure, he was bewildered about the whole incident, considering he didn’t even know the number was left there until you brought it up, but for him to not know how to convey his frustration better was the real issue at hand.
Not the accusation, not the stupid number, not the oblivious girl who left her number: it was him, Steve’s idiotic actions that got you both here.
“Stop, don’t talk to yourself like that.” He insists, staring deeply into your eyes, searching for a reason why you were blaming yourself,
Your jaw shakes roughly before a sob rips through your mouth. Tightening your eyes to try to get the tears to stop, yet they don’t cease no matter how hard you try. Frustration builds inside of you because you should be over it by now. The fact that he apologized and was here trying to comfort you should be enough.
But something inside of you won’t let it die. The silence is filled with the memory of his voice shouting at you and the face that he stared back with.
“I—I don’t want you to think there’s something wrong with me.” You croak, covering your face and turning away from him to save you the embarrassment.
But he strays to where you are, sticking beside you with a comforting hand resting on your back, “Sweetheart, nothing is—”
You sob one more, this time with a grunt that is direct to yourself. Stomping your foot against the cold tiles, your hands come down to grip the edges of the counter tightly. Your reflection in the mirror is only half of what you feel, and when Steve steps behind you, all you can see is guilt, but at the same time patience knowing he’s ready when you are.
You try your very best to at least keep your sobs at bay just enough for you to speak through them and for him to understand.
“You’re not gonna wanna be with me anymore knowing I can’t—I can’t talk to you when I’m like this! I don’t know why, but I can’t… it makes me feel stupid, like I’m crying over something so tiny and now I’ve totally forgotten why we were even arguing in the first place.”
He clicks his tongue, shaking his head and reaching in front of you to bring your hair back and away from your face. His eyes keep yours in the mirror, watching at you with such a gentleness that even now doesn’t falter.
“We weren’t arguing. I was just dumb and raised my voice when you were asking me about it.”
You move your sights from his to the bottom of the sink, shaking your head, “No, b-but I shouldn’t have reacted like that and made you look like the bad guy when yo—”
Your voice is traveling faster than you can think, spewing out words so hastily like you have to make him understand that it’s not his fault, but yours. It takes your breath away, hiccuping and coughing between a sob that leaves your mouth and bobbles in your chest.
Steve’s instantaneously rubbing your back, shushing you and trying to get you to calm down knowing you going on and on like this wouldn’t do you any good. He understands that you feel a lot of things very deeply and sometimes it isn’t an easy task to get them all out at once: he knows it and he’ll spend forever with you until you got it all out.
“Hey, hey, baby, c’mon… breathe,” He coos, his palm never stilling on your back feeling the deep breaths in and out, watching the tears fall down your cheeks and drip onto the counter.
It’s a kind of scene he hates to see, the one he wishes he could take from you and shoulder instead because watching you in such a state breaks his heart more than he could imagine. And this time it stings a little more knowing that he not only cannot shoulder your pain, but was the one creating it this time.
“Talk to me, please. What’s going on? Why’re so you upset at yourself and not at me?” He begs, trying to get a glimpse of what you’re feeling so he knows where the root is.
“B-because… I made it such a b-big deal.” You hiccup.
When you swipe angrily at your eyes with a ferociousness, that’s enough to make Steve step in and take it from here now that he knows where you’re coming from. A warm hand comes down onto your shoulder, pulling at you just enough for you to face him completely, weakly hanging your head low not knowing if you were strong enough to see him just yet.
“You didn’t make anything a big deal. I promise, we’re okay.” He whispers quietly, cupping your face in his hands, and bringing you face to face, “You’re not stupid and I could never think that you were. You’re human honey. It’s normal for you to be upset by things.”
“B-but I…I don’t want you to think you did something wrong—“
He stops you with a shake of his head. “But I did. I did something so wrong. I yelled when I shouldn’t have, and I made you feel like shit.”
Steve desperately needs you to know it. That this was his fault and no one else’s. That him making you feel like crap was the worst thing he could have ever done, but he was willing to man up to it and try to make things better, and at the same time he would understand if you wanted nothing to do with him after this.
Still, even after his words, you’re somehow even angrier at yourself, mind blaring at you for being such a dramatic person for making him go out of this way with all of this. That this was surely your fault and yours only, and if you didn’t take it off his plate, it was just something he would use against you one day to realize that he didn’t want to be with you anymore.
It’s what they all did — held it over your head and made you feel like you were wrong for feeling how you felt, so instead it was best not to feel anything at all. To hide it away and hope that being noncombative meant that everything was going to be okay and it wouldn’t give them a reason to run.
“I-it’s my fault—” You pinch your eyes, gulping back a cry as you shake your head in his hands.
His brows pull together, eyes squinting at you, not completely understanding why you’re doing this.
“Hey, stop, it’s not your fault. Don’t do that. Don’t take the fall for me,” Steve assures you with a sternness to his soft voice, continuing to wipe the seeping tears.
Somehow you can’t let it go, “But—”
“But nothing.” He starts, his voice composed yet unyielding in his tone.
He can’t stand it, clutching your face a little firmer, hoping that you would peek your eyes open to see him because he desperately needs you to. The second you do, your face twists again with heartache, praying that he would just let you go and walk out already, because by now, he probably thinks you’re insane — there’s no way he’s not thinking it.
His lips part, trying to find the right words to say, needing the perfect ones to get through you because he hates how you won’t let him take the fall, the one he so rightfully deserves to come crashing down on. You are everything to him and in some ways the feelings that you feel hit him right in the heart, and right now is no different, but there’s a wall between you both and his only goal is to knock it down completely.
“I—I don’t know why you feel like you have to protect me, but I promise you don’t.” He whispers, watching as you try to calm yourself, little sniffles going in and out and broken cries leaving your mouth.
His thumbs rub back and forth across your cheeks, soothing your withering skin. Slowly but surely your cries die little by little, eyes fixed on his, trusting that he means everything that he says, because Steve isn’t like the others — something that you should’ve known judging from his character alone.
“If I do something that makes you upset or sad, you should be able to voice that, not keep it in. I don’t ever want you to feel like you can’t tell me when I’ve done something wrong. I—I want you to feel safe and okay around me, enough to know that my love for you isn’t gonna change, just because you bring something up. You have every right to be upset, and angry, and disappointed, everything.”
He says it like he means it and you know it’s because he does. He lets every word hang from the stars as if he put them up there, and points them out just for you to know that they are there and true, because that’s all he ever wanted. For you to know that every word he speaks comes from his heart, and no matter how many times he needs to repeat it, he’ll do it over and over again, just so you know it’s real and until you believe them and know he won’t ever break them.
“Don’t ever blame yourself for me, please? I-I don’t want you to do that to yourself because I’m here and…and every time I fuck up or make a mistake, I swear I’m gonna own up to it and try to fix it. But I’m not gonna let you take the blame, okay?”
Being with Steve for so long still feels so new, especially when you know he isn’t like the rest of the boys from your past. He’s patient and kind with a big heap of understanding. Like everyone else in the world, he’s guilty of his own poor moments, but he’ll be damned if he takes that out on you or makes you feel like it’s your responsibility.
“I’m so sorry, baby.” He murmurs, letting his hands fall away from your face, letting you decide what the next move is.
The tears that escape are more so in between the remains of the sadness being washed away with tears of love and gratitude. Your arms wrap around his torso, pulling yourself into him and burying your face into his chest where the tears soak through his chest. Without a second thought, his arms envelop you, rocking you both back and forth as he presses kisses on the top of your head.
It mends your heart not merely because he’s just sorry, but because you didn’t get plenty of sorries before. Left only with sweeping things under the rug and pretending like nothing ever happened — it never solved anything and never gave you much.
But Steve gives you everything and so much more.
A big chunk of you feels like you don’t deserve him because he seriously is the best person with an even better soul wrapped up into one and yet he chooses you — every day. He sees you through all the good and the bad and never makes you feel like you’re alone even when you could be a distance away when you’re right beside him.
When you talk too much, say too little, or sometimes say nothing at all — he’s there giving you a listening ear and comforting shoulder to lean on whoever you need it. And on the days when you can’t talk to him when you’re like this… he’ll wait until you’re ready and show you that he’s always going to be there every step of the way.
He’s everything you could have asked for and more.
You pull your face away from hiding, resting your chin up on his chest as you stared up at him.
“I’m sorry too. I—I shouldn’t have been so indifferent earlier and just told you what I was feeling from the get-go.” You sniffled, rubbing your hands over his back, smiling faintly when he nodded understandingly.
He knows that sometimes he might not quite get it, might not see things in the same light as you, but he would never try to dismiss your feelings. He would sit beside you through the storms and sunshines, knowing that he was learning more about himself and you with you in his life.
That because of you, the younger version of himself got to heal his deepest wounds and open himself up to a love he only through he could dream up. You were here making him a better version of himself, all while he was doing the same for you. Showing you that the scars and fears of your past didn’t have to live in the next person you met — that you could let it go and open yourself up to the love you deserved.
His love.
“I forgive you only if you forgive me,” Steve grinned, swiping away at the dampness on your cheeks.
You grinned, nodding up at him. “Of course, I forgive you.”
“I love you so much… nothings ever gonna change that.” He hummed, cupping your face, taking you all in for the person he loved so dearly.
You closed your eyes blissfully before a kiss was placed on your lips.
“I know, I love you too.”
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💌 reblogs, tags, comments, + likes are greatly appreciated! leave a comment and let me know if want to be added to my taglist!! 💌
a/n: hi all, I hoped you like this little one-shot/imagine... i had this one sitting in my wips for awhile and it was nearly finished but I didn't have the inspiration to finish it until now. I don't usually write angst bcs i am a fluff girl, but this concept just came to me bcs like a lot of people when someone raises their voice at me...i just freeze and i don't know what to make of it and i just start crying. i think steve would be super apologetic and i wanted to write this bcs i needed some stevie!comfort so yeah... i hope you all enjoyed!!!
taglist: @translatemunson @kennedy-brooke @manda-panda-monium @tvserie-s-world @givemeth @steveharringtonswife @astolenkiss @loving-and-dreaming @awkotaco24 @engenelxver @elfiaaaa @pbs-theundeadmaggot @johnricharddeacy @gaysludge @keerysfolklore @micheledawn1975 @ihatepeanutss @bakugouswh0r3
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tojipie · 4 months
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Thoughts on Toji being mean to his gf after a bad day at work and immediately regretting it.. pls pls pls pls
content: major angst, hurt/comfort, fluff if you squint, blue collar toji
a/n: y’all have rly been devouring the hurt/comfort stuff up lately is everything ok guys :((
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the added weight in toji’s steps as he makes his way into the house doesn’t go unnoticed by you, even from the other side of the house.
you knew your boyfriend well enough to tell when he’d had a bad day. toji wasn’t the type to express himself, his body language did that for him.
“bad day?” you yell from the kitchen, wiping your damp hands off before making your way into the living room.
“something like that,” he mumbles, pulling you into a side hug and pressing a firm kiss to the crown of your head.
long days spent in the blistering cold had taken its toll on his body and mind. soft, warm palms had morphed into plains of cracked, bleeding skin. the tip of his nose permanently red from the icy wind.
blue-collar work was no joke.
“i made pasta if you’re hungry,” you offer sweetly, taking his thick welding jacket from his hands.
“not hungry doll,” he mumbles, kicking his snow boots off and onto the plush carpet with a grunt. gross.
“can you at least put your shoes on the ra—”
“you don’t ever shut the fuck up do you?” toji cuts in, rubbing the butt of his hand into his temple boredly.
you’d think he’d just asked you the time with how casually he says it. cold, calculated, and solely intended to hurt your feelings in as little time as possible.
toji opens his mouth before closing it a couple times, “i’m sorry,” he starts, turning to face your shivering form with his eyes blown wide.
“i don’t know where that came from—fuck,”
you step back as he makes his way over to you, furiously wiping tears before they have the chance to fall.
“can you just put your fucking shoes away,” you whimper, wanting to change the subject out of sheer embarrassment.
“sweet girl,” he whispers, grunting when you throw his jacket in his face.
“it’s fine,” you tell him, letting your arms hang limp by your sides when he pulls you into a hug.
“it’s not,” he mumbles quietly, pressing soft kisses to your hairline. “it’s not and i’m sorry.”
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