#and we don’t even text often like we talk for two hours or less every week ) and he’s like 25/26 so they’re definitely not gonna spend the

[milo-is-rambling]

Once again thinking about having a pen pal or a person to write letters to and send physical mail like ugh I want that so bad

[upon-a-starry-night]

Number Neighbors Pt.25

Natasha Romanoff x Fem! Reader

Natasha Masterlist Series Masterlist

Word Count: 1.7k

Summary:  When you catch sight of the newest trend going around you know you’re all but bound to at least try it, it was harmless anyway. What could possibly stem from something so little?

----

Nat doesn’t respond to any of your texts, she doesn’t explain why she was sorry, nor does she show up on Friday. You waited at the cafe for 3 hours before you finally accepted that she wasn’t coming. You had been too anxious to order coffee so you ordered a tea but it had long gotten cold. The barista would glance at you every so often with pity and embarrassment burned your cheeks. 

You threw the cold tea in the trash and left the cafe vowing to avoid this part of town for a while. You were hurt and angry but more than anything you were confused. She had seemed thrilled to meet you and it was her idea in the end so why was she bailing on you? The thought that she wasn’t who she claimed to be quietly crept up on you throughout the day but you’d heard her voice, at the very least she wasn’t a 60-year-old man. At least she didn’t sound like one.

You’re looping through the five stages of grief throughout the week and by the end of it, you're a sobbing mess in your friend's arms. There’s copious amounts of ice cream in your freezer and a bottle of wine has already been emptied as the two of you find yourself back on your couch but this time the circumstances are less enjoyable.

“I don't understand what I did wrong” Your friend gently caresses your hair as you stain her shirt with salty tears. She’d known the second she saw you that something was wrong and you’d nearly broken down on your lunch break in front of her when she asked if you were alright. 

Even your mother seemed to notice something was off just by the sound of your voice. She’d threatened to come down and maim the person that hurt you and you didn’t have the heart to tell her that neither of you would know where to find her.

“Maybe she’s just scared?” Your friend tried to reason. You don’t know how long she’s been comforting you but it’s the only thing keeping you from texting Nat again. You’ve ranged from screaming at her through texts to sending her sob-ridden voicemails and you hoped to keep at least a small part of your dignity intact.

“But it was her idea!” You argue “and she knows I wouldn’t be mad if she wasn’t ready. I just don’t understand why she won’t respond” A fresh wave of anger washes over you as you get up from the couch, your hands waving wildly as you make your way to the fridge “And what was with that cryptic text?! Why couldn’t she just say why she was sorry? What’s an apology without an explanation?”

You angrily grab a carton of ice cream and two spoons, huffing as you plop down on the couch and handing the spare spoon to your companion. You instinctively reach out for your phone, checking to see if Nat’s at least read your messages. She hasn’t.

You go to text her again, fueled by frustration despite your thread of unanswered messages. They stare tauntingly at you as the blue light assaults your tired teary eyes.

        Nat🔪:

Y/n🍦: 

Are you okay? We don’t have to meet but I’m getting worried about you

Y/n🍦:

Nat? I’m going to call.

Y/n🍦:

I never realized you don’t have a voicemail tone

I was hoping I’d get to hear your voice one last time

Y/n🍦:

You know what? Screw you, I don't deserve this!

Y/n🍦:

I didn’t mean it. I miss you.

I’m calling again.

You make a move to text her again but your friend slips the phone from your hands before you get the chance. She deletes whatever jumbled mess you had started typing and sets your phone behind her so you can’t reach it. You simultaneously want to scream at her and thank her. 

“Maybe we should give her some time?” You pick up on what she’s saying immediately. Realizing she might not be talking about Nat. You only manage a small nod as you slump further into the couch and start eating your ice cream.

“Can we put something on?” Your friend nods and turns the TV on and you’re grateful for the temporary distraction but you know the second she leaves you’ll probably send Nat another voicemail.

The silence allows you ample time to give in to your anxiety, realizing you don’t know as much as you probably should about Nat. You don’t know her last name, if she has any siblings, what she does for a living. For all you know, she could be a contract assassin, it would make sense why she disappeared all the time. 

 You had no idea who you’d been talking to and now that you’d grown an attachment to her she ghosted you. Had that been her plan the whole time? Was this some kind of game to her? Did she even really care about you? Your thoughts swirl and grow into a ball of anxiety and paranoia and you stare blankly at the TV as the cold of the metal spoon presses into your tongue.

~~

Nat lays on the cold pullout couch of her trailer and stares at the ceiling for what feels like days. It’s all she can bring herself to do when she’s not busying herself with other distractions. When she doesn’t distract herself her mind wanders to you. 

She promised she’d never make you cry. Her heart squeezes at the thoughts that must be running through your head. She’d had to leave her phone behind at the tower but she’d gotten a glimpse of your worried messages while she was packing. She felt horrible to leave you without an explanation but how would you believe her if she told you over text? 

She planned to tell you everything when you met but now she wouldn’t get the chance. And all because of the stupid government treaty Stark wanted them to sign. It made her impossibly angry just thinking about Thursday evening.

*The Avengers had all gathered in the meeting room, except Peter who was taking tests at school that he didn’t want to miss. The room was tense as Tony flipped through pictures and videos of the destruction their fights often led to, only stopping when Steve told him to. Nat could understand where Tony was coming from, she understood that the wreck that became the city was distressing but if it meant lives were saved wasn’t it worth it? 

She refused to be under anyone’s control ever again now that she had her freedom. She wasn’t going to be put on a leash. They already complied with all of the publicity stunts and interviews the government made them do but now they wanted to control their lives? What were they going to do next tell her how to breathe? 

Not to mention she didn’t want them getting involved in her relationships. She couldn’t have them knowing about you- controlling you. She wouldn’t let them take you from her. She smiled at the thought of you, glancing at her phone to see your good luck message.

“Well you can tell them your opinions face to face” Natasha’s head snaps up at Tony’s words and Bucky fixes him with a suspicious glare

“You better not be saying what I think you are Stark” He seeths out and Tony just shrugs, checking his watch

“They’ll be here in a few hours, I already agreed to sign it” The room erupts in a flurry of outrage. Wanda is the first to leave, scoffing as she pushes out of her chair and makes her way to the meeting room door. Vision follows after her, worry evident on his features.

Steve is still arguing with Tony trying to reason with him but it seems like it’s falling on deaf ears and Nat watches as her family begins crumbling in front of her eyes. She stays stoically silent, unsure of what to say to stop the fighting that's only getting worse. Bucky looks half ready to sock Tony in the face and she wouldn’t fault him for it but she doesn’t want violence to break out nonetheless.

“They backed me into a corner! We don’t have any other options! We don’t know what they’ll do to us if we don’t agree!” She can hear the desperation in Stark’s voice; the fear. A man who was always trying to prevent what could happen so much that he became oblivious to what was happening.

“We don’t know what they’ll do to us if we do!” It’s the last thing Bucky says before he storms out of the room, Steve following not soon after. Tony looks to Bruce but he only solemnly shakes his head, sitting quietly in his chair as he tries to think of another solution. 

Stark tries to reason with Nat but she just sighs. She doesn’t know how to solve this yet but she’ll figure out a solution. For now, she needs to do what she assumes the rest of her family is doing: Pack and find a place to hide out for a while. She’d seen what the government does to powerful people they don’t trust- she’d been part of some of those missions. She knows it’s in their best interest not to stick around unless they want to be thrown onto The Raft until they agree to sign their lives away.*

That’s how she ended up here, in the middle of nowhere, cold and alone. She’d had to leave her phone behind so that she couldn’t be tracked and that meant she couldn’t text you. She briefly considered texting you from a burner phone, she had your number memorized but she didn’t want to freak you out and she was worried about how you’d react. 

She didn’t want to have to tell you the truth over the phone, and what were the chances of you believing it was her? Most of all she was terrified that you’d be angry, that you’d tell her you never wanted to hear from her again. You would be justified in that response but she wasn’t ready to face that just yet. So she busied herself with concocting any possible ways to get her family safe and back together again. 

Pt.26

A/n: Sorry for the late chapters I've been rewriting them until they feel good enough to put out. (Also yes this is based on Civil War but it doesn't follow the same outcome)~ Starry

---Taglist--

@marvelwomen-simp @cd-4848 @wandanatlov3r @rebeltombraider @ctrlamira @fxckmiup @aliherreraaa @natsxwife @la-douler-ne-finite-jamais @romanoffsgal @moistblobfish @natashaswife4125 @elenimoris @how-to-disappearrr @screechcat @toouncreativeforausername @ordelixx @autorasexy @blacklightsposts @vmpnano @jono723 @sylencr @saraaahsstuff @autorasexy @gay4hotmilfs @tofu9162 @dyslexic-dreamer @graniairish @colettehope @kosmichs1 @nmhlver @natblidaclexa @skittlebum @dorabledewdroop @nothanksbye07 @mrsrushman @midastouch013

[ryuichirou]

You’re probably tired of so much KaliJami but headcanons for RSA!Kalim x NRC!Jamil?

Also, how do you feel about genderbent? Like one of them is female or both are female? I’m sorry if you answered this before.

Not at all! We’re not tired of KaliJami, we actually like them very much, so please don’t worry and keep asking if you want to. It just takes a while to get to them with all the other ships, as you must’ve noticed...

Ohh, RSA!Kalim and NRC!Jamil!.. Sounds fun, we’ve actually discussed a little bit the fact that before Kalim was transferred to NRC, he could’ve been in RSA – because where else would he be? I mean, we just don’t really know other schools, and RSA is known for its over the top goody two shoes. But before I list a couple of headcanons, I’ll answer your other question.

In general, we love genderswap, I draw genderbent characters from shows we’re into from time to time. But it doesn’t work as well for us with twst for some reason? It’s hard to explain, and we’re not opposed to it: there is some really pretty art out there with genderbent characters from twst. But I guess it’s just unlikely that we’ll draw or post anything, although you can never know for certain with us lol

We also tend to genderbend both characters because this world needs more girl+girl couples with interesting and messed up dynamics. A lot of times this is our main motivation.

 Alright, so headcanons…

Kalim misses Jamil a lot. For the first time in their lives they’re separated like this, and it affects Kalim on a much deeper level than he anticipated. He has a lot of friends in RSA, he has a bunch of servants that went to live with him since Jamil isn’t around, but it’s not the same without Jamil. Simply because of that Kalim is actually having a hard time at RSA, even though he spends his days laughing and hanging out with Che’nya, the gnomes, Neige and pretty much any other RSA guy.

Kalim messages Jamil every day, writes him letters, calls him, he is actually quite obnoxious about it. Jamil is very annoyed by it and doesn’t always reply, but if Kalim were to stop texting him for like 5 hours, Jamil would probably get concerned about his well-being and call him. The codependence is strong.

Jamil visits Kalim at RSA more often that he would like to admit; sometimes Kalim asks him to help, sometimes Jamil feels that he needs to check on Kalim because something was weird about him the last time they talked. He also sends him food regularly and even helps with his homework… he does a lot of things he does in canon, but now he also has to travel back and forth for it. Jamil really hates it, and it’s not like he absolutely has to do it, Kalim isn’t forcing him to, but he just can’t help it. When he thinks about Kalim being there alone (even with a team of servants), he starts feeling anxious and loses his sleep over this. Which kinda makes him hate Kalim even more… because Jamil really thought that he would be free from all of this for once in his life.

Jamil asked Kalim not to come to NRC several times, but Kalim is very stubborn and excited about the idea of visiting Jamil, checking out his dorm, meeting his new friends, etc. Deep inside, Kalim feels this unusual (to him) and strong jealousy and frustration, because he doesn’t get to hang out with Jamil as much as people from Scarabia do. His first instinct is to befriend them, to get to know them better, in hope that it will make him less jealous and hurt, but this probably won’t work. Although he’ll definitely become a star at NRC rather quickly, because he is loud, charismatic, sweet, and people love him. Jamil, on the other hand, feels absolutely exhausted every time Kalim visits him…

One day Kalim decided to completely ignore Jamil’s pleads not to visit him at NRC (at least because it’s dangerous for Kalim to travel alone) and arrived on his magic carpet. His excuse? “But I really wanted to see you, Jamil! And no one got hurt, so it’s good, it’s good!” I’m sure they unintentionally recreated the balcony scene from Aladdin, granted Jamil was much more tired and done than Jasmin. But they still went on a magic carpet ride, because the alternative option was to let Kalim stay in Scarabia until morning.

[no1frogfan]

Desire lines, part 2

Kuroo x afab reader

Series synopsis: Against his wishes, Kuroo must hire a personal assistant. You’re not exactly the right person for the job, but it’s a job, and you need the money. Inspired by Robert Macfarlane’s definition of desire lines in landscapes: “paths and tracks made over time by the wishes and feet of walkers, especially those paths that run contrary to design or planning.”

Chapter word count: ~2.4k

Chapter tags & warnings: none afaik

Note: I said this was going to come out on Sunday, but I became obsessed and couldn’t help finishing early. So you get it early.

Series masterlist part 1 | part 3

2. A foot in the door

“OH! OH! What about Takata?” Bokuto yells excitedly, “He’s responsible!”

Akaashi immediately shoots him down. “I don’t think Takata would want to quit his stable accounting job to do something like this, Kou.”

“Hmm…” Bokuto knocks his head with his fist. “OH! What about Iwasaki? She just quit as one of the MSBY managers recently and she’s really pretty.”

Akaashi shoots him down again. “Iwasaki quit the manager position because she’s 7 months pregnant and wants to stay at home with the baby after it’s born.”

Bokuto pouts into his drink. “You think of someone then Keiji.”

Akaashi wracks his brain, but, “Sorry Kuroo, I don’t think we know anyone that fits the bill.” He smiles apologetically, “But if we do come up with someone, we’ll definitely let you know.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Kuroo waves him off, “Tell me what you two have been up to?”

And that’s how ten days fly by with no solution in sight.

Two weeks hadn’t felt quite so urgent when he’d asked for suggestions from Akaashi and Bokuto on day one, but now he’d asked everyone around him for help — Kenma, Yaku, Kai, Daichi…even Lev and Tsukishima — and still nobody fitting had materialized.

You’d think it’d be an easy task to find someone who is 1) trustworthy, and 2) looking for an easy job. There must be thousands of people in Tokyo who meet both those criteria, but strangely, none of his friends knew any of them.

Trustworthiness was actually the easier requirement. Pretty much every potential candidate his friends came up with could be trusted to keep the deal secret from Nishida and the office gossips. Surprisingly, the more difficult requirement has been the job itself. Kuroo didn’t understand at first. After all, this would be perfect for someone just out of college, for example, hoping to save up some money while they search for a more permanent position. But, as Daichi reminded him, most of those bright, young college graduates are looking to break into a new field, and that means meeting and working with people in that field, not spending all day at a dead-end position, even if it’s an easy job with a great salary.

With less than four days left until Nishida’s deadline, the panic is starting to bubble up.

Kuroo dunks his head under the water one last time and steps out of the shower. Wrapping a towel loosely around his waist, he pads to the kitchen for his morning coffee — well, noon coffee at this point.

As if on cue, the phone buzzes on the counter as he walks by. He answers without glancing at the screen, using his shoulder to hold the phone against the side of his face. “Hello?”

“Hey, it’s Iwaizumi.”

Kuroo breaks out in a smile. “Hey man, what’s up?”

“I’m in town for a few days. Want to grab coffee?”

Kuroo might be short on time to resolve this whole assistant issue, but then again, tackling the problem head-on hasn’t been working, so maybe some time away to rethink his approach is just what he needs. Anyway, Iwaizumi doesn’t come back to Japan too often these days. “Of course! Where should I meet you?”

“I’ll text you the address. I’m already here talking to a friend so drop by whenever,” Iwaizumi tells him before hanging up.

An hour later, Kuroo steps through the front door of the cafe. He immediately spots a hulking Iwaizumi facing away and talking with someone he doesn’t recognize. Like Iwaizumi, they’re dressed comfortably in blue jeans and a tank top, soaking up the sun spilling in from the huge windows.

Kuroo grins as he walks up behind Iwaizumi, clapping a hand to his shoulder. “Didn’t think you were the type to pick someone up at a cafe, Iwaizumi.”

Iwaizumi whips around, stammering, “I- no- it’s not like that!” Until he registers who it is. “Oh, Kuroo,” he grumbles, thoroughly unamused.

You giggle at the dozen expressions that flitted across Iwa’s face in that split second. Turning to the stranger, you introduce yourself. “I’m pretty sure his partner would have a few things to say about that. Iwa and I are friends from college.”

Kuroo shakes your outstretched hand. “Kuroo Tetsurou. Iwaizumi and I were volleyball rivals in high school.”

You nod to him as you stand up. “Well, volleyball rival Kuroo-san, it’s nice to meet you. And Iwa, I’m glad we got to catch up a little. Let’s chat again soon?”

Iwaizumi’s arm flies out to block your way. “You’re leaving already?”

“Yeah, I don’t want to impose…”

“You’re not imposing. I’m sure Kuroo doesn’t mind.” Iwaizumi doesn’t bother looking to him for confirmation.

Kuroo shrugs, “Up to you.”

“Such enthusiasm,” you deadpan, but sit back down. “You two go on and order then, I’ll guard our table.”

Iwaizumi gets up to keep Kuroo company and you take the chance to look Kuroo over. Standing next to Iwa, Kuroo looks a touch taller than him (even accounting for the messy hair) and less broad, but still clearly athletic. In the warmth of the cafe, he takes off his bomber jacket, revealing the simple long-sleeve shirt he’s wearing over a pair of black jeans. He definitely knows how to highlight his lean frame, well-built arms, and…you should probably stop ogling his ass.

You quickly tear your eyes away when they spin around. (There was a small tussle at the register as they each clamored to pay. Predictably, Iwa won out.) They’re both engrossed in conversation as they walk back to the table, allowing you to bury your face in your coffee with minimal embarrassment.

You watch amused as the two sit down. You’ve only ever seen Hajime like this with Tooru. Perhaps it’s because Kuroo and Tooru have a similar impish energy. You listen to Kuroo push and prod at Iwa playfully, asking after him and tormenting him in the span of a single phrase. Iwa meanwhile endures the teasing like a veteran, snapping back a few of his own gruff retorts that make Kuroo cackle like a madman.

All the while, the conversation weaves in and out of business.

“Well, work has really kept me busy, but I’m doing fine! How long are you in Tokyo this time?”

“Only a week,” Hajime complains, “but I should be back again soon for a few months to set up the new training regimen.”

Kuroo hums into his coffee. “Think I could get you to help with a JVA promotion?”

“You ask me that every time. But sure. How’s Kenma?” Iwaizumi grunts.

Kuroo wipes some condensation off his glass. “Kenma’s fine. He’s had his nose stuck in a new game for a while now.”

Hajime nods. “And your grandparents?”

“Ah, yea, they’re also doing fine.” His voice sounds lighter than before, but you’re probably just imagining it. You look over at Iwaizumi. Or maybe not, because a soft crease forms on Iwa’s brow.

But as you expect, Iwa doesn’t push him. He lets Kuroo lead the conversation back to work and to his current predicament. “After today, I’ve still got three more days to find someone, so my luck’s not entirely run out yet.”

A thoughtful look crosses Iwaizumi's face.

Oh no, he’s not—

“Weren’t you just telling me you were looking for something temporary?” Iwa asks you.

“Uh, well, this isn’t exactly what I had in mind…”

Iwaizumi leans forward, gesturing toward you but addressing Kuroo, “They would be a great asset to the JVA, you know.” Kuroo’s attention swivels to you. “They moved to Japan to get into more literature translation, you know poems, novels, stuff like that, but they’ve got experience with all kinds of Japanese-English translation. We’ve worked together before at post-game interviews and conferences and I’ve always been impressed by their competence and professionalism. Gets along well with the players too. That kind of expertise must be in high demand for an organization like the JVA.”

Turning back to you, Iwa adds, “It sounds like the position doesn’t include many responsibilities, and since you just moved here, this would be a great opportunity to earn some money while you work on getting your foot in the door with the publishers.”

You frown, eyes locked on the empty mug in your hands as if the foamy dregs might form an answer. He’s not wrong, but…

Kuroo eyes you appraisingly. If Iwaizumi is vouching for you, then you’re definitely trustworthy. And he can’t deny that having interpretation experience will come in very handy for the upcoming FIVB meetings, not to mention you definitely sound competent enough to type up some meeting notes. Plus, unlike his other prospects so far, it seems like working as his assistant for now might actually be perfect for your long-term goals…

“Sounds like a great idea!” Kuroo declares.

“…At least give me some time to think about it,” you mutter, intensely aware of their expectant gazes.

“Ok, but let me know by tomorrow night,” Kuroo replies confidently.

You shove another spoonful of cereal into your mouth, ignoring the milk that sloshes off the spoon and splashes back into the bowl. The texture is awful. The flakes are almost completely soggy and spongy after sitting untouched for the past few minutes.

Your mind is elsewhere.

You’d woken up way too early for a Sunday, mind plagued by Kuroo’s offer since the three of you parted ways yesterday afternoon.

You wash the soggy slime off your tongue with a sip of coffee — instant Nescafe, sadly, though you’re wistful for another latte or even an americano.

Maybe writing things out will help you think it through more clearly. You smooth out a piece of used scratch paper and turn it over to draw a simple cross on the page. On the top left, you write PROS and on the top right CONS.

First.

Under PROS, you write easy job. Kuroo made it clear that you wouldn’t have to do much. Aside from showing up every day and sitting at a desk, the only other thing you’d have to do is attend his meetings and type up meeting notes. Like Iwa said, that theoretically leaves you with a lot of time for your own things.

Sighing, you jot too easy? under CONS. An easy job isn’t bad, but it might end up becoming awkward if other people have different expectations of you than Kuroo does. What if his boss gives you extra responsibilities, or wants you to report to him on Kuroo’s schedule? The problem with this arrangement is that it’s vague and hence unpredictable. It may end up turning into a real, full-time job despite your understanding with Kuroo.

Moving on to the thorniest problem.

You add Kuroo under PROS. He’s undeniably attractive, and if Hajime is friends with him, then he’s probably a pretty good guy and a pretty good boss. Under normal circumstances, you’d be thrilled to have some eye candy around and possibly even a hookup at your fingertips, but—

You reluctantly write Kuroo again under CONS. But Kuroo would be your boss. That makes him 10,000% off limits. God forbid you hook up and things go south as they’re wont to do. You’d not only jeopardize your income, you might also jeopardize Kuroo’s job and his friendship with Iwaizumi.

Finally, by far the biggest pro, and you’d saved it for last.

MONEY. You underline it once. The salary is generous, more than generous. (You pull up your bank account balance for what feels like the hundredth time, hoping you might have read the numbers wrong the last 99 times. Nope, still the same.) You haven’t mentioned your dwindling bank account to anyone, but let’s just say you’re not feeling so optimistic now that you’ve been unemployed for four months. So unless you just happen to land a huge project (technically, anything’s possible) like, today (it’s still the morning, so…), with a big advance upfront (ok, that’s never happening), soon you’re not even going to be able to afford cereal and instant coffee.

Who are you kidding? You underline MONEY two more times in resignation. The longer you wait, the closer you’ll get to the point where you’ll have to take literally anything. There’s no way in hell you can turn this down.

You text Kuroo before you can change your mind.

His reply comes almost instantly: Perfect! You can start tomorrow. The address is…

Monday morning, you head into the office for the first time, thanking your nerves for setting your alarm too early and leaving the house with time to spare because figuring out the subway transfers during rush hour ended up being more confusing than you anticipated. Even though you left a half hour early, you arrive with only a minute to collect your thoughts as you ride the elevator up to the 38th floor.

A passing employee directs you to Kuroo’s office door. You smooth down your clothes before knocking quietly and waiting for a “come in.”

“You’re here!”

Kuroo steps out from behind his desk with a relieved smile and you thank the gods you spent the rest of yesterday and one full month’s rent investing in nicer officewear as your eyes travel up from his brown leather oxfords, up along his slim navy suit pants, to the matching navy vest cinching his waist, up the rolled-up sleeves of the white-button down shirt, up the gold polka-dot tie topped with a perfect windsor knot, all the way up to his golden eyes. His hair is still an absolute disaster, but it somehow works together, giving him an aura of charm rather than vanity. Yeah, your old, cheap, ill-fitting tops and suit pants would have been an embarrassment.

“Just in time, too. My first meeting today is in 15 minutes.”

He walks toward you, stopping to stand a little ways away as he continues. (Now that he’s closer, you realize the pattern on his tie isn’t polka dots, but tiny paw prints.) He holds out a hand toward toward the empty desk you passed on your way in. “Why don’t you get set up at the desk and I’ll grab you on my way there? After the meeting, I’ll introduce you to Nishida-san and a few other people around the office.”

He's just close enough that the spicy musk of his cologne tickles the edge of your senses. You’ve been here less than a minute and already you’re tempted to pull him in for a deeper lungful.

[but-ur-beautiful-to-me]

tonight i am thinking about my parents and how i often don’t believe they are right for each other. they fight. argue. a lot. too much. as long as i can remember, multiple times every day of my life, there’s always something, and as soon as it’s resolved, there’s always more somethings. they get annoyed with each other constantly, my mother more than my father. my father never wanted my sister and i to grow up while my mother wanted us to mentally mature quickly while slowly shifting from girls to women.

tonight i am thinking about my parents and how i sometimes believe they are right for each other. my father is a hopeless romantic who passed his penchant for lovely gestures onto me. he puts thought into the gifts he gets for my mother. he takes time to write beautiful love letters in her birthday, christmas, and valentine’s day cards. he gets her flowers on each of those holidays as well. he has proposed to her three or more times, simply because he wanted to (although, she has lost a ring or two). he rubs her feet when they ache. he turns the tv volume down when she falls asleep before him, a nightly occurence. my mother, on the other hand, is a little less outwardly affectionate, but she never forgets to tell my father how much she loves him. she logistically explains her feelings in all of his cards, in tiny font he always jokes about needing a microscope to read. she always remembers to phone him if she misses a call, and if he doesn’t pick up she will send him a text message. she knows he doesn’t like onions, so she makes sure none of the chicken thighs she cooks for dinner have pieces of onion on them when she serves his plate. she drove two hours to work and back for forty-eight months so my father, my sister, and i wouldn’t have to move for the third time in as many years.

tonight i am thinking about my parents and how badly i want a love that is so similar, yet so different than theirs. i want someone who buys me flowers for every major holiday, and every once in a while when they feel like it. i don’t want explosive anger. i want someone who knows and accepts that i am not the world’s best vocalist, but smiles when i make attempts to serenade them with song. i don’t want to feel like an annoyance. i want someone who will massage my back when i over-exert myself, and stroke my hair when i’ve had a stressful day. i want someone who will gladly shout their love for me from the highest rooftop in a city. i want someone who would try to sing my favorite song atop a restaurant table before i pull them down, laughing. i don’t want to be shrugged off when obviously upset. i want someone who will sneak out with me during parties to look at the moon and talk about the universe. i want someone who is sure about marrying me before they even ask my friends for help in proposing to me. i want someone willing to raise two beautiful children into kind and good adults with me; some animals are included in there. i want someone to record adventures around the globe with me. i want to know someone’s soul like we came from the same star, and for them to know mine like we were fed the same constellations.

tonight i am thinking about my parents and supernovas and love and calla lilies and relationships and sour candy and a white dress and horror movies and honeymoon phases and rock songs and eight-letter phrases and me and you.

~ L.G. | would you say i’m worthy?

[absurdthirst]

Hello, your followers have a lot of wisdom to share and I would like some guidance if that’s okay? If not then I totally understand- delete this no worries.

Here is the whole situation…….

The Issue: BF wants to get a tattoo.

Backstory:

He is enmeshed with his family.

He want's me to be as close with his family as humanly possible.

He withholds stuff they say or do from me because he is afraid I will say 'bad things' to him about them. (I respectfully disagree with their behavior only to him.)

His family indirectly criticizes me often but my BF makes excuses saying they are really just criticizing him. The things they say are (you talk to her too much, you spend too much money on her, you shouldn't sleep over her house she has female roommates, you shouldn't get her flowers again, you should go on vacation with her.)

He calls / texts / them everyday for at least a few hours when he is with me. He also lives with them.

He wanted me to build a relationship with them at the same time we were building ours.

I felt overwhelmed and put up a lot of resistance. I started to feel like his sister not his GF.

This caused a lot of fights. He accused me of hating his family.

He said he wouldn't date me anymore if his family didn't approve. (Fair enough, same with mine but mine is way less needy and doesn't need someone to 'prove themselves' in order to be in the in group.)

I decided to tone down the resistance and go with the flow. Hoping that the closer I was to them the closer he would get to me.

I worked hard putting in the time and effort to build a relationship with them.

After a while I started to enjoy the family functions and feel like I found a new family outside of my own. I thought I made a lot of progress.

My Situation Now:

My BF's life long friend recently passed away. My BF want's to get a tattoo ( his first one) in memory of said friend.

I have no opinion on this either way, if he wants it, I support it. Hard stop. His body is his choice. This was completely his idea. I never mentioned it to him once.

However he looked at me yesterday and said “my parents are going to blame this on you, you know that. They are going to think you’re influencing me.”

And I said “but why?”

He said “that's just the way they think.”

I said “Don’t let them believe it.”

He said “No I'll fight them on it, say it's my idea.”

It shocked and really hurt me. Now I have two choices,

#1. RAT HIM OUT TO HIS MOM BEFORE THE APPT - Be a bad partner, go against everything I agree with in terms of partnership, but not be blamed for this, and preserve the relationship I built with them. Have him not like me short term, but have his family like me, thus have him like me long term.

#2. NOT SAY A WORD - Be the bad guy in his family's eyes (even if he says it was his idea, they wont belive it), but support my BF like a great partner should, through this really challenging time for him. BUT have his family not like me, thus him not like me in the long run.

I don't know what to do. In every situation I am a bad guy. I've never dated anybody with this much family drama that leaked into our relationship. I need help and guidance please. I don't want to bring this up to him at this time since I don't want to add to his stress and grief.

The family is not going to get better. PERIOD.

If anything it will get worse. Imagine planning a wedding, or (if you want them) having kids. Everything will be your fault.

Unless your boyfriend goes no contact with them, you will have this family drama.

You have three choices.

Accept that you are going to be blamed and have a ‘think what you fucking want’ attitude.

Dump him. Because it’s not going to change.

Tell them all to fuck off.

Personally, I think your boyfriend needs to set some boundaries with his family. And not allow them to treat you like this is your fault. Because regardless of what he says….he’s allowing them to continue this behavior.

[wordsofelie]

Chapter 3

🔥Phoenix and Ashes

Suna Rintarou x f!reader

Summary: “It’s funny how nobody believed that we could make it work.” - “Well-maybe they were right.”

Meeting Suna Rintarou wasn’t part of your plan. Dating him, either. Getting your heart smashed into the palms of his hand, even less.

Content Warnings: High School Setting, Fluff, Mention of an Original Character, Osamu and Atsumu being two idiots, Existential Crisis

Words count: 1.9k

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 6 - Chapter 7 - Chapter 8 - Chapter 9

You think dating Suna is a dream. You’re now a freshly second-year and even if Umi is not in the same class as you, you still manage to see her often. Your routine in itself hasn’t changed much; you wake up at the same hour, you go to school, you try to show some interest when the teachers are speaking, you go home, talk with your parents, go to bed (not without a little “goodnight” text from Suna, obviously) and repeat. But you would lie if you said that colours did not appear more bright, the food tasted better and the music sounded richer. So you conclude that dating Suna makes you see a new side of life, one that makes you feel alive.

You can’t help but feel a little bit nostalgic when the cherry blossoms turn pink and remember that if you did not bump into him a year ago you wouldn’t have the marvellous chance - or luck - to go out with him (you still can’t believe why the most handsome boy from school decided to choose you, the most random girl of the whole prefecture but whatever).

Suna and you agreed to have lunch together every Wednesday.

“Why not every day?” Umi asks you. She sounds baffled.

“He’s very busy with volleyball.”

“Mmh.” she answers, unconvinced. “If you were my girlfriend, I’d give you every hour of my day.”

“Umi.” You sigh but the corner of your lips raises in a smile. You have such a supportive friend.

She shakes her hands in defence, “I’m just saying that I don’t think he realises how lucky he is.”

I’m the lucky one, you say to yourself.

(Dating Suna is like a dream, but your best friend doesn’t think so.)

It’s not the first time you have had this type of conversation with her. Ever since she discovered that you only had two dates since the planetarium, she has been saying that your boyfriend should show more dedication to you. The thing is; you’re not waiting for him to give you anything more than he is willing to. You’re not expecting more from him than what you already have. Him having lunch with you on Wednesdays (and Wednesday only), him walking you to your station (and never a meter more), him calling you every night (but not past midnight) is beyond enough. You love what your relationship is based on: mutual respect (affection — you hope) and you want to cherish that.

As Umi is in the same class as Suna and Osamu, you usually get up from your seat as soon as the bell rings (you swear you’re trying not to run but you are too excited) and wait for them.

She gets up with Osamu to go to the cafeteria and she waves at you, “see you, love you” she always says. The outside hitter offers you a smile, a side one that you would describe as kind (and a little bit mischievous). Compared to his brother you think he has that aura that only emanates sweetness. You don’t agree when people say that he is as cocky and as brash as his twin, if he were, why would he take the time to smile at you?

“Enjoy, champion,” he says once his back is facing you.

The nickname takes you back to a few weeks ago when you both competed at the sports festival rally. Your team managed to win and when he high-fived you at the finish line, he decided that from now on, you deserved such a name.

“Osamu-san,” you said flustered, “we only won because of you.”

“And she’s humble.” he crossed his arms and gave you a full grin.

“Well done,” your boyfriend told you. You noticed his confused expression but before you could explain why Osamu started suddenly treating you like a longtime friend, you felt a weight on your shoulder. He had wrapped an arm around you.

“Let’s celebrate your victory,” you were met with Suna’s tender gaze (no trophy could match this view). You simply nodded in response.

You’ve been dating Suna for four months now, but as he calls your name and joins you to the door after Umi and Osamu left, you still can’t believe it.

“Lunch?”

“Yes.” you just answer but there are stars in your eyes.

He may not be as popular as the Miyas but when you both go out of the classroom, you hear the whispers, “How can someone so insignificant date one of the guys from the volleyball team?” Others argue that he is only hanging out with you out of pity, pretending that you’re not even together because they never saw you hold hands or kiss. You’ve gotten used to those gossips and you do a pretty good job at not caring.

His voice covers the whispers when he asks you about your morning.

“It was fine. I only had English and Literature. I actually enjoy those classes.”

“I thought you were more of a science girl.”

You hesitate, not only because he is right but also because a sudden question rushes into your mind: what are you really? Philosophers have spent centuries trying to figure out what is the essence of humankind, they have written massive books and fought over the question and still there you are, a seventeen-year-old high schooler in the middle of lunchtime, grappling with the same existential quest. You don’t think you’ve ever asked yourself that. Why would you? You’re just you, isn’t that enough? Yet, what is you, truly? Are you a science girl like Suna says? You’ve always been good at it, but does that define you? What about the pleasure you take in reading and commenting on English articles? What is it that you love? Can you really be just one thing? And if you had to, what would you choose? Would you choose to be a good student, a good daughter — a good girlfriend? Should the latter surpass everything else?

“My grades have been pretty good in English and Literature and a teacher told me I should think about pursuing a career in communication or something.”

“Communication?” he raises an eyebrow.

Your heart tightens a little bit, you’re not sure why. You feel the urge to explain yourself as if you had just said the stupidest thing in the world.

“It’s just- it’s just what my English teacher suggested,” you chuckle, Suna can hear the embarrassment in it. “I don’t really think I’m suited for it though.”

“Whatever.” He shrugs. “Do what you want.”

You desperately want to ask him what he would want you to be. But he stopped looking at you and you’re afraid you might bother him anyway.

How easy it must be to know what you want to do in life when you love something deeply.

You’ve learned in physics that humans are made from the same energy source that has created mountains and seas and stars, however when you look at the world around you (at cherry blossoms; at bonfires; at volleyball games; at those green eyes) you can’t see yourself fitting on the passionate side. Why do stars shine so bright in the sky? Why does Umi study even on sleepless nights? Why does Atsumu play until his fingers hurt and his lungs burst? What do they have that you don’t? You’ve never found something that makes you forget how to breathe, how to talk. And you don’t think you ever will. You don’t have the strength to fight the way a forest does after being destroyed by a storm.

Because you’re not one of them.

The thought lingers.

“What about you, Suna-kun? What do you want to do after high school?”

He takes the time to chew his food before answering, “Don’t know. Maybe sports science or journalism.”

“Umi is probably going for journalism too, she has what it takes to get into one of the top universities.”

“You’re also smart.”

“But not enough to study communication?”

“That’s not what I said.” he defends, “I just don’t see you doing that, you’re not the most talkative person I know.”

Again, he is right. What you are. What you are not. Maybe you should stick to that.

When you stepped outside with Suna after your lunch, you did not expect to be met with a rather funny spectacle. Umi is confronting Atsumu in what appears to be an impromptu game of dodgeball. While Atsumu is taunting Umi with the ball, holding it just out of reach, he’s keeping a careful distance from her. Umi shows no signs of being intimidated by his antics. Her stance is light and confident, and she is on the lookout for any throw, she moves with deliberate, sure steps. Only a second passes before the girl skillfully manoeuvres to hide behind a bench and manages to get the ball past just above her head, without being touched by Atsumu’s toss. Osamu stands nearby, acting as the referee, calling out the plays.

“Tsumu!” He shouts, “ya loose, ya crossed the line.”

Atsumu's face flushes with anger as he whirls around to face his brother. "What the hell, ‘Samu?" he snaps. "Is she even allowed to hide behind that stupid bench? I should be winnin’."

Umi crosses her arms, clearly unimpressed. "Just admit I’m better than you, you idiot. Maybe ball games ain’t made for you."

Atsumu's hands clench into fists at his sides. "Maybe if ya actually played instead of just hiddin’, ya’d understand!"

The younger twin finally notices your presence and explains the situation (ignoring his brother’s distant complaints), “Kita kicked us out of the gym,” he admits. “Said it was our day off and we shouldn't be causin’ trouble.” You picture the captain taking his new role to heart and making sure the boys don’t train on their day off.

"So you decided to start a dodgeball game out here instead?" Suna asks, not without a tinge of judgement.

"Pretty much. But look at Tsumu,” the three of you turn to watch the game unfold. “Thought he'd have the upper hand, but Umi's too quick for him."

Your boyfriend only laughs. “Oh, the mighty setter, defeated by a girl. This is priceless."

"Don't let him hear ya say that. His ego's already bruised enough."

“Sunarin! Come help me.” Atsumu whines, desperate.

Suna chuckles again. “Nah, seeing you being crushed by Chihara is far too pleasing for the eye. Please go on.”

Atsumu grumbles in response and as Umi bursts into laughter, he starts chasing after her, pretending that he’s seeking revenge.

You hear a long sigh from Osamu as he opens his bento box. The poor boy complains that he hasn’t eaten yet due to his brother’s “childish games”. You're genuinely impressed when you see how good it appears. There are perfectly shaped and generously filled onigiri and on the side, small portions of stir-fried vegetables, lightly seasoned with what smells like soy sauce and sesame oil.

"Is that your bento, Osamu-san?"

"Yeah," he replies nonchalantly.

"That looks delicious. Your mum must be a great cook," you compliment.

"Ya can have one onigiri if ya want. And actually, I'm the one who made them," Osamu offers, a rare hint of shyness creeping into his voice. You don’t think you have ever seen that faint redness on his cheeks. Cute.

But before you can respond, Atsumu interjects with a teasing tone (and with one Umi wrapped, or rather prisoned, in his arms), "Hey Samu, don't go hittin’ on other people's girls!"

Osamu's expression darkens, clearly irritated by the comment. “I’m not takin’ any advice from a guy who got dumped by his girlfriend because he cries during horror movies.”

“That was in fifth grade, ya shithead.”

Rin rounds his arms around your waist and whispers into your ear, “It’s true. You’re my girl.”

Your breath hitches in your throat. And you feel it. Love. You don’t recognise the feeling at first. But there it is. A flicker of hope. A ray of sunlight. A kiss on your face.

You forget how to talk.

After that, Umi grabs your wrist and pulls you along, "Hands off Suna Rintarou. She’s too young for that.”

You don’t care that, legally speaking, being three months older than you doesn’t give her the right to decide if you’re too young for something or not; you don’t care that, in the background, Osamu is insulting (rather fiercely) Atsumu for eating his last onigiri; and you care even less that the clouds got dark and let some raindrops fall.

You only care for that new feeling that has invaded your body and already made your brain addicted.

You're his girl now.

And you will always be.

Author notes: this chapter took me soooo long to write even though it's a very short one. I hope you'll like it <3

I was inspired by "Light Filters In Poems" by Caroline Kaufman, don't hesitate to check it, it's beautiful!

Elie

[bigmatrimonial]

Timing is Key: When is the Best Time to Boost on Tinder?

If you're seeking a fast method to increase the numbers of people you meet on Tinder then you're in the right place. If you can pinpoint the ideal time to boost your numbers on Tinder and the best time to begin conversations, you'll be able to boost your number of matches to insane! It is recommended to open an essentially new account (at minimum three months) and not have more than two or three matches per day, as Tinder connects to your account every time you access it to make new matches.

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What is Super Boost on Tinder?

As of 2017, there are a variety of ways to improve your Tinder profile. There are two kinds of Tinder Boosts available: 1. Sign up Boost This service is typically not a cost, but you get various boosts based upon the cost you are paying each month or annually. You will not receive regular boosts as part of this type of offer. That means that if you don't take the boost, there'll be no change to the game's activity. It is very beneficial for subscriptions that are new and for continuing to receive new matches without the need to buy more boosts on a regular basis. 2. Daily Boost This kind of service offers you a daily boost in exchange for only one time payment. If you decide to cancel the service your activity on matches remains the same until the following day, when you'll see all the boosts added to your profile. Any of these options is excellent, it's up to you to choose which one is superior.

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Pro Tips For Using Tinder Boost

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How often should you increase your Boost Your Tinder?

The most effective way to accomplish this is to set the frequency of when you'll be boosting on Tinder. The goal is to increase each day to ensure that you're not attracted to skip some days, and this keeps you engaged with Tinder. Be sure to select the times of day which are not crowded, or times that are better to get matches. The idea of boosting in at the time of day or during rush hour is not a good strategy since everyone else is likely to be using the app during that time. If you are looking to make many more people to join Tinder and you want to increase your chances of getting more matches, the most effective way to achieve this is to use the Tinder booster service. This way, you'll be able to arrange it on an agenda and not skip a day of boosts.

Conclusion

Even though things are getting somewhat more complicated with all the people trying to swipe left and right. Tinder remains a great method to start when seeking dates. The best way to approach it in this scenario is to keep going and remain perseverant. These suggestions are what has worked for us. Hopefully they can help you as well! We hope this article helped you. Thanks for reading! Do not hesitate to leave a comment for any queries. Read the full article

[honeypiehotchner]

Recompense (Hotch x Fem!Reader) -- one shot

My suitemate made me write this /hj

Also talk about returning to Hotch fics with something completely out of left field 🤪🤪

Warnings: 18+ only pleaseeee y’all know the drill, slight sub!Hotch/dom!reader, light bondage, grinding, angst, MAYBE dubcon if you absolutely squint

WC: 2.1k

Hotch had been gone for weeks, which isn’t unusual, but still takes its toll. To combat it, you and Hotch have been planning a dinner for when he gets back.

“Should we go out or stay in?”

“Stay in,” Aaron said, exhaustion laced through his words. “I’m so tired of eating out.”

“I know you are, babe,” you murmured. As much as Hotch loves his junk food, he hates eating out so often. He misses your home cooked meals, homemade lunches. He misses running every morning, coming back to your sleepy eyes as you fix coffee for the both of you. “We’ll stay in. I’ll cook.”

“No, no, I’ll cook, you’ve been cooking a lot.”

“I actually haven’t,” you admitted sheepishly. “Cooking for one is hard and I’ve been too lazy anyway.”

“Honey…” He knows when you say ‘lazy,’ you really mean you’ve been missing him and it’s been getting to you. “I’ll be home soon.”

“I know you will.”

Every night he called, and every night a new facet of the date was planned. The menu, the table setting, the music.

If this hadn’t been the fourth case in a row that the BAU was called on, this feeling of missing him wouldn’t be as bad. But he barely had six hours of sleep before he was called out on the second one, and he didn’t even get to come home before the third. With the fourth one, he was home for a blissful twelve hours, but he was exhausted and slept for eight.

Needless to say, it’s been a while since the two of you have really seen one another.

The day that Hotch texts you that he’s coming home can’t come fast enough.

You haul yourself out of bed immediately, flipping lights on and throwing clothes over your body to get ready for the day. There’s a lot to be done, and you can’t wait to get started.

You have all day because it’s a long flight and they haven’t actually left yet, but still. There’s no time to waste.

+++

Hotch doesn’t know how time got so far away from him.

He texted with you when the jet landed, but you weren’t quite ready for him yet, so he went to the office with the rest of the team. His plan was to do paperwork for a few hours, then check back in with you.

Well, he worked for more than a few hours. And forgot to check in.

By the time he looks up, it’s well past the time when he was supposed to text you. It’s dark outside, for Christ’s sake.

He immediately calls you instead, but you send him straight to voicemail. He forgets all about the work he was doing and grabs his coat and keys.

He makes it home in less than half the normal time, but you’re not there. You’ve left a note on the counter, telling him you’ve gone for a drive to get a milkshake, and you don’t know what time you’ll feel like coming back.

He calls you again. Voicemail again.

This time, he leaves one for you. Telling you to come back -- begging, more like. His only hope is that it works, and that you’ll be walking through that door tonight.

+++

The sight before you makes your mouth water. And you hate it because you’re supposed to be angry, but you can’t be when your partner is sitting in front of you with his hands tied. Literally.

He took one of the chairs from the dining table and placed it in the middle of the living room. He’s out of his tie and has it tightened around his wrists, palms facing each other, fingers curled into fists.

“How did you even do that?” is the first question out of your mouth.

He chuckles. “You think I’d do something to you that I haven’t tried on myself?”

“Oh,” you squeak, but really, you’re thinking, that’s hot. “Right.”

You set your things down and lock the door behind you. You’re not sure exactly what to say. If you weren’t mad at him, you’d be on top of him right now. You’d be all over him. But you’re resisting, and you’re keeping your feet planted firmly here, by the front door.

“I’m sorry,” he says from his place in the living room.

“Is this your apology?” you deadpan, gesturing to his self-made predicament.

“Part of it,” he admits. “Do you want me to get up?”

You’re not sure what happened exactly to flip the switch, but something did.

You shake your head, lifting it to meet his eyes. “No. I’ll tell you when I want you to do something.”

He hears the shift too and he nods. “Yes ma’am.”

You like the sound of that.

With a heavy sigh, you cave.

Slowly, you strip your jacket from your shoulders. “Why weren’t you home on time?”

“I-I got caught up in paperwork--”

“We’ve talked about that, Aaron.”

“I know,” he replies, shameful.

“What should you have done?” you prompt him, hanging your jacket on the hook by the door. You spin around and cross your arms over your chest, waiting.

“I should’ve set an alarm,” he says. “Or three. To check in and keep myself aware of the time.”

“Mhm,” you nod. “Why didn’t you?”

“I forgot.”

You click your tongue. “Not a good enough answer.”

“I know,” he says quietly, hanging his head.

His head remains hung in shame as you walk over toward him, toeing off your shoes by the couch. Aaron registers the noise, but doesn’t lift his head until you tell him to.

“Look at me,” you murmur, standing in front of him, but not touching him. His hands are mere centimeters from your legs where they rest on his knees. You see him tighten his fists and you know he’s fighting the urge to reach out and touch you. “Lift your arms.”

Aaron does as he’s told, albeit confused. Until you sit down on his lap.

You face him, your breath caressing his lips. You reach up and guide his arms back down, looped around your neck.

“I would’ve had you tie them behind your back,” you comment, “but since you’re already like this, we’ll make do.”

He nods, looking into your eyes intently. It’s been so long since he’s kissed you. It’s torture for the both of you to have your faces this close, but not touching. It’s hurting you just as much as it is him, but you are determined to take your time.

You can feel him hardening beneath you, much quicker than you expected, but still it doesn’t surprise you. It’s been a while since the two of you have had sex, too. Not over the phone, at least.

You roll your hips, earning a low groan from the back of his throat. You smirk.

“I’m not sure what I want to do,” you muse, letting your fingers wander to the buttons on his shirt. You begin undoing them, one by one, while you speak. “I could take something that I’ve wanted for weeks. I could refuse to let you cum while I do it. Or,” you finish the last button and snake your cold hands over his warm, toned chest. “Or I could let you cum, on one condition.”

“What is it?” he asks quickly, already breathing hard. Between the way you’re sitting, straddling him, your scent, and your hands, he’s ready to burst. “I’ll do it.”

“You don’t even know what it is,” you chuckle. “It could be something you hate. Or not necessarily hate, but something you prefer not to do.”

At that moment, Aaron knows what you mean. And he doesn’t like it. But he also doesn’t like the alternative.

“Okay,” he says.

You grin. “Someone’s desperate.”

“You have no idea,” he replies.

“Believe me,” you snap. “I do.”

He frowns. “I’m sorry--”

“Be quiet,” you tell him, removing your hands from his chest, to instead work on removing your pants. “Lift your arms.”

He does, and you step back, stripping yourself of your pants and panties, kicking them away. He watches them wistfully, and you have to snap your fingers to bring his attention back to you.

You take your shirt off as well, loving the way his eyes darken when he sees you aren’t wearing a bra. And knowing that he can’t touch you.

You straddle him once more, noticing his bulge has gotten considerably larger.

If there’s one thing Aaron hates, it’s cumming in his pants. Especially when he could be touching your skin.

It makes a mess, sure, but the mess is always the least of his worries. He has them dry cleaned regardless. But it’s the pain. The agony. Being confined when you’re right there, stripped naked for him -- for yourself, really, because you’re angry with him right now. None of this is for him. This is all for you.

You guide his arms back around your neck, wanting to feel them there as you begin rocking your hips. You feel his muscles flex, the physical sign of his internal strife.

You’re sensitive on most days, but it’s especially bad when you haven’t felt him in a while. Just the feel of his dress pants against your core sends sparks through your entire body. Not to mention when you clit brushes against his belt.

You can’t stand it anymore, so you kiss him, hot and heavy, moaning into his mouth. He stretches his arms straight out, desperate for some relief. You pull him toward you by the back of his neck, your nails scraping his scalp.

His tongue easily finds yours and takes control. You let him, at least in this aspect, knowing he’s dying for it. You like it when he does, anyway, so this is an easy concession.

Your first climax comes soon, but it isn’t enough, so you don’t stop.

Without needing to be asked, Aaron goes for your neck, sucking and biting as you ride out your high. You keep his lips there, pressing your hand on the back of his neck. When the pressure is a little too hard, you hear him groan, and that’s enough to make you wild.

His hips jerk every now and again, the movement difficult on its own with the way he’s sitting and the way you’re grinding against him.

“I know you’re fighting it,” you murmur against his ear, sending chills down his arms. “You’re going to give in.”

The truth is, it is harder for him to climax when he’s constrained, but at the same time, he is fighting it right now. He hates that you noticed, that you know him well enough to catch it, but he doesn’t know why he’s surprised. You know him as if he is you. And the same goes for the way he knows you.

“Come on,” you press, lifting his head from your neck to look him in his eyes. Your lips brush against his as you say, “I want to hear you.”

He closes the gap between your lips with a fierce growl. The sound alone sends a wave of heat over your body, like molten lava poured overtop of you. You spread your legs wider, chasing your next climax, noticing for the first time how wet you’ve made the fabric of his pants. Or maybe some of it is from him, too.

“Let go,” you demand, lowering your hands to rake your nails over his chest. He shudders at the movement, his head falling onto your shoulder. His moans are broken, almost sobs. “Let me hear you, baby.”

You reach down and rub your clit, desperate to reach your climax at the same time as Aaron. Your sounds drive him over the edge.

He tenses, cries. His hips jerk in sync with yours, and you feel him twitch beneath you -- a harsh movement for you to be able to feel it through the layers.

You drive your hips down toward his, already cumming when he finally breaks, and climaxes with a shout. It lasts much longer than normal, purely because of how constricted his movements are.

“That’s it,” you murmur, pressing your chest against his, relishing in the sweet pleasure of your simultaneous highs. “That’s it, baby.”

He rests his head on your shoulder, his chest heaving.

“Are you okay?” you ask, chuckling a little when he nods.

“I’m great, I’m— Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” you nod. “Here, let me.”

“No, I got it,” Aaron flexes his wrists and the tie comes off, falling to the ground.

Your eyes widen. “That’s hot.”

“Really?” he laughs, smoothing his hands down your arms.

“Oh yeah,” you nod, holding his face. He’s still hard beneath you. “Continue in the bedroom?”

His only response is standing up, with you in his arms, carrying you down the hall for more ‘apologies’.

[adoringhaikyuu]

when you hang out with their best friend/teammate without them | 2

characters: suna, akaashi, tsukishima

request: can we get the when you hang out with their best friend/teammate without them for suna akaashi and tsuki?

warnings: nothing, just some kissing and a few possessive boys

notes: ahh my first request!! i’m happy that i wrote something that someone wanted more of haha <3

part one | part two

akaashi:

akaashi likes to have his shit together and he often overthinks things

which is why after concluding that if he finished all his work in one go he’d have more time to hangout with you, he decided to do exactly that

you offered to stay with him while he worked but he knew that you’d end up distracting him (not in a bad way or anything) and that he most likely wouldn’t finish his work on time

so you were temporarily banned from his place until he was done

but you were bored and pouty so you complained to bokuto, knowing he would understand your over-exaggerated reaction

he texted you immediately ‘whaaattt ?? i’m coming over right now!!!’

he showed up ten minutes later to your house, snacks in hand, ready to keep you company and playfully complain about your boyfriend and his best friend 

he insisted on sending him snaps of the two of you pouting at the camera, ‘how could you abandon this cute face, akaashi???’

his arm was wrapped around you and his face was smushed against yours but honestly he didn’t mean to make akaashi jealous, he was just being himself, completely playful and dramatic 

akaashi wasn’t planning on opening the messages since bokuto was always spamming him but when he took a five minute break, he opened them just in case they were important today 

when he saw his best friend practically cuddling you, his brows furrowed and a scowl made it’s way onto his face

since you and bokuto weren’t exactly expecting a response from akaashi, you went on to do other things, showing each other tik toks, and just chatting while you waited for him to finish up. 

it was about ten minutes later that you both heard the doorbell ring. you and bokuto both turned to each other, confused.

“did you order food?” you asked.

“no, i was gonna ask if you did? cause i’m starving––”

“well then who’s that...” you muttered to yourself as you got up to answer the door, bokuto cowering behind you, mumbling about if it was a murderer, phone in hand, ready to call the cops. you can imagine your surprise when you opened the door to find your boyfriend standing there, a scary serious look on his face. 

you blinked in shock, but before you could say anything, bokuto stepped in front of you. “hey hey hey! took you long enough buddy! i was keeping y/n company while you banned her from your house. how could you do that by the way––ow!”

your eyes widened as akaashi smacked bokuto’s head. “shut up bokuto. you can go now.”

bokuto pouted dramatically, “aw what?? we were about to order food,” he turned back to you. “right y/n?” 

suddenly the boy was yanked back and out of the house, a yelp jumping from his throat abruptly and akaashi was standing next to you. “you have food at your own house, why don’t you go there.” he shut the door without another word and turned to face you, ignoring the whining on the other side of the door. 

“what––what are you doing here?” you looked up at him, confused and slightly in awe as he placed his hands on your cheeks and tilted your head to look up at him, his thumbs rubbing your skin gently. 

“wanted to be with you.” he gave you a small smile but you responded with an adorable confused pout.

“but what about your work––”

“i’ll just do it tomorrow, it is saturday after all.” 

“hey when i said that you still insisted on working.” you pursed your lips and narrowed your eyes curiously. “was it because bokuto was here?” 

he looked away, “i have no idea what you’re talking about.”

you laughed. “you know you’re a terrible liar when it comes to me.” 

he slid his hands down to your arms and placed them around his neck before gripping your waist under your shirt. you gasped softly at the feeling of his fingertips against your skin and he smirked down at you. he leaned in until his lips were grazing yours. “again, i have no idea what you’re talking about.” 

before you could even think of a response, his hands were pulling you flush against him and his lips were on yours, taking your breath away. you moaned into the kiss and he groaned, his fingertips digging into your skin as he slid his tongue into your mouth expertly.

just as you got lost in his touch, you heard a small voice from outside. “so are you guys gonna let me back in?”

suna:

so suna is a lazy boy, we know that

and he likes to nap a lot

sometimes he’s just so tired that he forgets to text you before he naps

and today you’re supposed to hang out with him but around 3pm he stopped answering, so you knew he was taking his usual afternoon nap and if you went by his place, he wouldn’t be able to answer the door

so you decided to go out and get some snacks on the way to his house, planning to take your sweet time and let your boy rest

by coincidence, you ran into atsumu at the shop and he insisted on staying with you... and eating some of suna’s snacks 

it’s about a little while later that you make your way over to suna’s place, texting him to make sure he’s awake

when suna opened his door, the subtle smile dropped from his face when he realized you’re not alone. he raised a brow and looked over to his friend, “i don’t remember inviting you.” 

you pursed your lips, scolding your boyfriend’s bluntness. “suna–”

atsumu shrugged, a grin on his face. “i was keeping your girl company and thought i’d be a gentleman and walk her over here.” 

suna raked his eyes over atsumu lazily, clearly unamused. “yeah thanks. you can go now.” 

the blonde pouted dramatically. “oh what? come on, you’re not gonna invite me in?” he put his arm around you and gave you puppy dog eyes. “come on y/n, convince him for me?” 

you managed to turn for a split second to realize how close he had gotten to you before you were pulled out of his arms and into the warmth of the house. you blinked and suddenly you were under suna’s arm, facing a wide-eyed atsumu. 

next thing you know, the door was shutting in his face. you turned to suna and he simply shrugged and took the bag from your hands. “you brought snacks,” he smirked. “you’re the best.” he put it down on the table and tilted his head as he looked down at you curiously, trying to seem nonchalant, but his narrowed eyes gave him away. “why were you with him?” 

you tried to hide your smirk as you answered him. “went to get you some snacks while you were asleep and ran into him at the shop.”

his eyes reduced down to slits as he watched the playful look in your eyes. “why?” you smiled. “were you jealous?” 

he walked over to you slowly and slid his hand up to your neck, gripping it softly but firmly as he tilted your head up towards him. he made a show of trailing his eyes down from yours to your lips and keeping them there, making your breath hitch in anticipation. 

“less talking, more moaning.” he pressed his lips against yours possessively and had you melting and giving in immediately. whatever he wants, he gets. you knew that better than anyone.

tsukishima:

if you don’t believe that tsuki is a dry texter or that he would leave your ass on delivered for several days––i have some news for you

so let’s say it’s a saturday afternoon and while normally you hang out with tsuki basically every weekend, you also know that he was in a pissy mood earlier so you let him cool off

you text him after a little while, asking if you could come over in the middle of your usual tik tok spam and he opens the text, only to leave you on read (only seeing the tik toks, not the actual message)

you just brush it off, thinking he’s still in a mood and decide to find someone else to hangout with

that person just so happens to be tadashi

you two had gotten closer ever since you started dating tsuki so it wasn’t out of the ordinary for you to spend time together

it’s just that normally it would you, tadashi and tsuki

so you can imagine your boyfriend’s surprise when he opens snap to see you and his best friend smiling on your story

he frowns but tries not to let it get to him (spoiler, he fails)

when an hour has passed by and you still haven’t texted him or anything he gives in and messages you first, a blunt ‘when are you coming.’ 

you take that as a sign that he finally wants you to come over and since you and tadashi were ready to wrap things up, you make your way over to your boyfriend’s house

almost as soon as you knock on the door, it’s pulled open and you look up to see tsuki looking down at you, his brow raised. it’s silent for a few seconds and you tilt your head in confusion, why did he look annoyed?

before you could say anything he spoke up, “tadashi’s not with you anymore?”

you shook your head. “no––oh i’m sorry should i have invited him?”

he scoffed only confusing you further and without another word, he took your hand and pulled you into the house. still silent, he took your jacket for you and put your shoes away as well. you smiled up at him when he stood up straight and you could see the slight blush he was trying to hide.  

he walked ahead to sit on his couch and you followed, choosing to sit with a little space between the two of you, since he hadn’t seemed to cool off completely yet and you knew how much he valued personal space. little did you know, you were only making things worse. 

he stared at you, brows furrowed and you stared back, eyes curiously wide. “why are you all the way over there?” 

you smiled and got up to sit in his lap, feeling satisfied as he opened his arms up for you to get settled. you kissed his cheek and looked at him. “i know i saw you yesterday, but i missed you today, you know?” 

he rolled his eyes, “yeah sure.” 

“don’t roll your eyes at me,” you laughed. “you’re the one who didn’t wanna hang out with me.” 

he paused. “what are you talking about?”

“i asked you if i could come over and you left me on read.” you played with his hair mindlessly as you spoke. “but it’s okay, i know you get cranky sometimes.” you smiled fondly but he was serious as ever.

“i didn’t leave you on read?”

“yeah you did.” you tilted your head. “i thought you did it on purpose.” he frowned and you took your phone and scrolled through your conversation, before showing him the text you’d sent hours before. he read over the text and blinked a few times before looking away. he tightened his hold around you slightly. 

“i’m sorry... i didn’t see.” 

you put your hand on his cheek and made him look up at you. “aw baby is that why you’ve been so moody since i got here? you thought i didn’t wanna spend time with you?” 

he swallowed as he looked into your eyes, the vulnerability he was trying to hide in his gaze telling you everything you needed to know. “tsuki, you know i always wanna be with you.” you smiled and pressed your lips against his for a gentle kiss which he clearly appreciated. his hand gripped your thigh firmly as his other arm pulled you closer to him to prolong the kiss. 

when you pulled away, he looked up at you. “do you think...you could stay over tonight?”

he tried to keep a nonchalant and unbothered exterior but once you agreed and gave him that precious smile, he couldn’t stop the small smile that spread on his face, even if he tried. 

[kookiesbuckethat]

you sleep on the couch because of an argument

Namjoon x f!reader

Genre: angst to fluff, hurt/comfort

WC: 1.5k

<series masterlist>

tag list: @yzkyzkuniverse

You sigh as you roll over for the tenth time in the past hour, unable to find a comfortable position alone in your bed that was meant for two. It was the fourth night in a row that Namjoon wasn’t coming home at all, and the hole in your heart was growing every day. 

Even on the nights that he did come home, he would have to carry your sleeping body from the couch to the bedroom because it was so late that you had already fallen asleep, no matter how hard you tried to stay awake for him. You never got to spend more than a few minutes awake with him before you both were falling asleep or he was leaving for work again the next morning.

It wasn’t always like this. Even with his busy schedule, he used to manage coming home five times a week, and he often had time to squeeze in at least one date on the weekends. But as he started to work on more songs for other artists or groups like TXT, you started to see less and less of him. You knew it was his job, but you thought he was spreading himself too thin. But despite his heavy workload, Namjoon still managed to send you daily text messages, wishing you good morning, asking if you’ve eaten or how you’re day is going. 

But today you didn’t respond, the short messages just reminding you of what your relationship has become. Turning your phone on silent, you bury yourself back into the blankets, hugging his pillow tight to your chest. Lately, he’s been sleeping in his studio or his shared dorm with the boys because it was closer and more convenient, but when you stop responding to his messages, he starts to get worried about you.

“Y/n?” Namjoon calls out as he walks in through the front door. He asked to leave early today to check up on you and came home as soon as possible. Even though that ended up being 11 pm, it was still earlier than usual and it was better than not coming home at all. When he’s met with nothing but silence, the worry in his chest only grows. He checks the living room and the kitchen and still no sign of you. 

It’s only when he pops into the bedroom that he finds you, curled up in bed with your back turned to him. He lets out a sigh of relief, wiping away the sweat on his forehead caused by worrying about you and running all around the house. “Y/n? What’s wrong?” he asks when he sees your phone lying next to you on the nightstand. You only confirm his suspicions that something is wrong when you ignore him.

When you refuse to answer him, he walks around to your side of the bed, crouching in front of you. “Hey,” he says gently, reaching out to cradle your face with one hand. “Why didn’t you answer my calls?” he asks, concern lacing his voice. You only glare at him as you ask coldly, “You’ve actually come home today?” Namjoon frowns at your cold response, but he should have known this was what you were upset about. 

“Listen y/n,” he says with a sigh. “You know I love you but my work is important. You can’t just expect me to drop everything for you,” he tells you as if he’s explaining something to a child. “I don’t expect you to drop everything for me Joon!” you try to tell him. “I just want to see my boyfriend for more than a few minutes a week, is that too much to ask?” you ask frustratedly. 

“Yes, it is!” he yells back equally as frustrated. “You don’t understand how busy my schedule is,” he says lowly. “Yeah, well you did that to yourself,” you mumble under your breath. Namjoon furrows his brows at you but he decides against asking you what you mean. “I’m going to go take a quick shower. When I come back, we can talk, okay?” he tells you. You just scoff at him, rolling over on the bed and turning your back to him. Standing from his crouched position, he sighs in defeat. Yes, you were still mad at him, but at least he knows you’re okay.

Once you hear the bathroom door close and the shower start running, you finally let out the tears you’ve been holding in. You missed him so much and the one time he comes home, you two are upset at each other. You weren’t asking for much. You two didn’t even have to do anything but sleep and maybe eat dinner together when he comes home, you just wanted to see him more.

Crawling out of the bed, you grab an extra blanket and pillow from the closet before heading into the living room and getting comfortable on the couch. You couldn’t bear seeing him right now as it only reminded you of the fact that you would always come second because work and music come first.

As the hot water runs down his back, Namjoon replays your words in his head. He did this to himself? What did you mean? It wasn’t like he was trying to overwork himself, but music was his passion and if others asked for his contribution in their songs, why wouldn’t he? But maybe it wasn’t the smartest idea to start working on a new song while they were in the middle of their own comeback.

He starts to see what you meant when you say he did this to himself and he asks himself, When was the last time he came home? And when was the last time you two really spent time together? The more he thinks about it, the more he starts to understand why you were so upset and you had every reason to be. He hasn’t seen you in so long and it was no one’s fault but his own. But he got mad at you for asking your own boyfriend to come home just a little more often.

While drying himself off and getting dressed, he tries to think of how to make it up to you. But when he exits the bathroom and walks into the bedroom, you’re gone. The ruffled blankets were the only sign that you had been there at all, and the fear of you leaving suddenly seems too real. 

All his apologies and ideas are suddenly lost to the thought of losing you, fear and panic start pumping through his veins as he frantically searches the whole house for you. When he finds you in the living room he lets out a breath of relief, but he knows he still has a lot to fix. Taking a seat on the couch, Namjoon settles in next to you, taking a moment to organize his thoughts into words. You don’t move away, knowing you have nowhere to run.

If you really wanted to leave, you could have slipped out while he was in the shower, but a part of you wanted to sort everything out so you stayed. “I’m sorry y/n,” he starts off with a sigh, “I got carried away and I didn’t realize how much work I’ve taken on until it became too much to handle,” he admits. “And I know I’ve been a pretty shitty boyfriend lately but please,” he begs, voice breaking slightly with emotion, “Let’s not go to sleep angry at each other.” 

Your heart aches at the guilt and sadness in his voice, and your resolve slowly crumbles when you see how upset he was too. You thought you were the only one hurting because Namjoon seemed so unaffected, but he had just been too busy to realize his own feelings. Being apart has taken a toll on both of you, but at the end of the day, you still loved each other very much.

Moving closer to him on the couch, you lean your head on his shoulder as you take one of his hands in yours. “It’s okay Joon, I know you’re trying you’re best and I shouldn’t have ignored you,” you murmur. Namjoon just shakes his head at your unnecessary apology because he was never mad at you in the first place. He simply wraps his arms around your figure, pulling you into his lap.

“You must be tired, let’s go to bed?” you ask as you run a hand through his damp hair. He nods and the two of you head to the bedroom hand in hand. “I guess I have a lot of missed cuddles to make up for huh?” he chuckles as he holds you close under the blankets. “Yeah, you do,” you agree with a laugh as you cuddle further into his arms. “I love you y/n,” he whispers into your hair, “More than anything in the world.” Your lips curl into a small smile as you whisper back, “I love you too Joon.”

[silv3rswirls]

Comforting their s/o when they cry (Ateez)

Note: Some of the members came out short than others based on the scenarios I picked for them

Tike taken: about 30 minutes/unedited

♡Seonghwa♡

Crying over an argument

You and Seonghwa were busy people. You worked part-time and went to school, while Seonghwa could often get caught up with KQ and Ateez. So, spending time together could be hard to find at times. But you made it work, mainly by trying to plan things the best you could around Seonghwa’s schedules. Most of the time it worked out, but lately, it hasn't. You just couldn’t cancel and reschedule all the important events coming up and unfortunately, your dates with Seonghwa had suffered.

That’s why both of you were standing around in the dorm bickering at the moment. Seonghwa wanted to go out with you tomorrow afternoon, but you were swamped. “Can’t you reschedule it?” He asked again, “I want to take you out.”

“I can’t” you pressed, “I really can’t miss this, I’m sorry.”

“But you keep saying that, we haven’t spent time together in weeks.” He frowned, frustration building in his voice. “Can’t you cancel? Do you just not want to spend time with him?”

“I always cancel!” You snapped, “I always reschedule so we can be together, so don’t say I don’t want to spend time with you!”

A thick silence fell between the two of you and you hadn’t even noticed your tears until Seonghwa came to brush them away. “I try really hard to accommodate you, and I don’t mind, but sometimes I just can’t, okay?”

Seonghwa wore a guilty expression as he took in your glassy eyes and stressed demeanor. “I’m sorry...do you really plan everything around me?”

You nodded, “I want nothing more than to go out with you all the time, but sometimes things are just too much, okay? I’m sorry I can’t go tomorrow-”

He hushed you, “don’t apologize, I shouldn’t be so persistent in your rescheduling.” He rubbed comforting circles on your hand as he held it, “just forget about tomorrow, let’s just enjoy the time we have together right now.”

♡Hongjoong♡

He's late for a date

Seeing you slowly descend into tears as he tried to explain why he was late hurt. He hadn’t meant to get caught up at work, but he had and your evening date had momentarily slipped his mind. Hence why he was nearly thirty minutes late. He had found you, bored on your phone as you kept up the waiting. He had swopped in with apologies and excuses, but hearing them only made you sadder than you already were. It wasn’t the first time he had forgotten, in fact, you almost expected it. It didn’t make things sting any less, so as you listened to him explain how he had gotten so caught up in work you felt the sting of tears building in your eyes, unable to hold them in as you choked back a sob.

“Don’t cry!” Hongjoong had pressed himself closer to you. It truly took him off guard, seeing as you were also so understanding of these kinds of things. “Don’t cry, I’m sorry.” It tore him up to see you crying because of him, but his heart broke when he heard you mutter than it was to be expected of him as you tried to wiggle free. His hold on you grew lax as he looked back on all the times he had done this. With a pang of guilt in his chest, he realized that he had come to expect you to accept his apologies and excuses, accidentally taking advantage of your usual kind and supportive energy.

He waits until the two of you are outside, following you to your car. “Just go home, I don’t feel like doing anything anymore.” You sniffled, fishing your keys from your bag.

He nodded but went in for another hug, wrapping his arms tight around your body and pressing his face into your shoulder. “I’ll do better” he mutters, “I promise, I’m so sorry for tonight.” Tentatively he rubs away whatever tears are left in your eyes and kisses your forehead, “text me when you get home, okay?”

You nod with a small smile, sharing one more hug before heading off.

♡Yunho♡

Crying of frustration

Yunho immediately brought you in for a hug when he noticed your frustration spilling into tears. You had been working on your schoolwork the past few hours, studying and preparing for your exams while he watched a movie beside you. You had been turning your mind over and over trying to understand the material in front of you, but every time you tried to work it out you found yourself either wrong or too lost to keep going. Frustration set in early as you tried to keep going, but as you did so your eyes clouded with tears and they escaped right as Yunho came back with a snack for the of you.

“Awe, baby don’t cry” he cooed, arms tight around you as he pulled you away from your work. He could understand being so overwhelmed and frustrated, but seeing your break down into tears over it tugged his heartstrings harder. “It’s okay, just take a break.” He squeezes you tight, almost like he was trying to squeeze your frustration away. He made you take a long break, have some water, and a snack to relax. In the end, he sat by your side and helped you through it, a bit lost as well but eager to help you. He keeps his arm around you the whole time.

♡Yeosang♡

A pet passes away

Yeosang had no idea what to do when you tearfully explained how your beloved family pet had passed away the previous day. You had come to him with teary eyes but as you explained the situation further you broke down to full sobs. His eyes grew wide as you broke down, understandably so. “I’m sorry” he spoke softly, taking your hand gently and guiding you to sit down. Losing a pet could be so painful, he just wanted to take all your pain away.

He knew he couldn’t just make it disappear, so he let you get it all out on his shoulder. Rubbing your back and handing you tissues. Yeosang wants to be there for you all he can, despite being a little jumbled and awkward with his actions at times. He makes sure you cuddle up close with him, petting through your hair and reminding you of all the good memories with your pet. He wants you to smile back on all the good things.

♡San♡

Watching a sad movie

With a storm raining outside, you and San had chosen to settle down for the evening with a movie. Cuddled under a blanket with snacks and light conversations as the movie San picked at random ran through its time. You had liked the movie at first, a kind of coming-of-age film as it slowly went through the main character’s life with her friends and family.

It was towards the end where you found your face heating up with tears. The main character was reminiscing in her old age of her youth and all the people that impacted her life, focusing heavily on one of her childhood friends that she had a falling out with. They had never spoken again, going separate ways in life seemingly not missing the other. It ripped at your heartstrings a bit too personally as you were only reminded of an old friend you had drifted from. As the credits rolled and you sat with old memories you could feel your shoulders shaking with silent sobs.

“Baby?” San was caught off guard to find you crying. You explained how close to home it had hit you, and San scrambled to change it to something happier to take your mind off of it. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have picked a sad one.” He frowned, holding on to your tightly. Even long after your tears stopped he keeps you in his arms, cuddling and talking sweetly with you for the rest of the night.

♡Mingi♡

Overwhelmed

Mingi’s go-to had been to scoop you up in a bear hug. He knew with just how hard you had begun to break down that it wasn’t just over breaking a glass. He listened to you desperately try to explain how it was so much more than the glass, how hard you had been trying to hold everything in the past month or so. He clings to you for the rest of the day, encouraging you to let everything out and cry as long and hard as you need to. He’ll be there for you through it all.

“Come to me whenever you need.” He assures you that it’s okay, he wants to hear about all your worries and frustrations. The both of you lay down, cuddling as you recount how emotionally blocked you had been. Talking away all the big worries on your mind as Mingi listened to every word. He keeps his arms tight around you.

♡Wooyoung♡

Not knowing why

Wooyoung had come home excited to see you after a long day. He had many things stored away to tell you about, questions about your day, about your next date, anything that had come to mind during the day. Eagerly he found you in bed, the big smile on his face slowly fading as he noticed your quiet crying. He tones his energy down and sits beside you. Carefully he runs a hand over your back, catching your attention as you turn over to face him. “What happened?”

You shake your head, “I don’t know...I just needed to cry I guess.” You seem upset, unable to figure out exactly why or what you were crying over. Seeing your boyfriend’s brow knit in confusion and a small pout taking his lips only made you cry more. You had buried your face into his thigh, but Wooyoung wasted no time crawling under the covers with you. “It’s okay” he soothes, an arm around your waist as the other rubs away your tears, poking and pinching at your cheek in an attempt to get you to smile. “Sometimes we just need to cry, it’s okay.”

♡Jungho♡

Stress

“Everything’s fine, I’m here.”

Jongho had been with you when you began to break down. He was sitting on the sofa of your place as you pace around, on the phone with work as major changes were taking place. Watching you frantically scribble down dates and notes, anyone could easily tell how stressed you were getting.

When you finally hung up, standing over the table quietly and playing with your pen he got up to check on things. He found you rereading everything you hastily scribbled down, chewing your lip as you tried not to start crying. Between school and work, you were feeling nothing but stress and worry over how things would turn out in the coming days.

“I-I’m sorry” you hiccuped, rubbing your eyes. Jongho hadn’t known what to do at first, but he’s quick to let you wrap your arms around him and try to compose yourself. He strokes your hair, again muttering that it was okay to cry on his shoulder like this. “We’ll figure it out together, okay?” He keeps an eye on you even when you break away and takes a few deep breaths.

[seijorhi]

Inexorable ♕

My birthday present for my beloved wife @iwaasfairy​ and my contribution to her birthday bash collab you can find here. I love you, you’re incredible and I hope you like this i even wrote smut for you smh

Iwaizumi Hajime x female reader

tw: dub-con, stalking, unhealthy relationships, very questionable decision making, smut, nsfw, um... implied murder?

He’s sitting on the steps outside your apartment when you get home from work, a lit cigarette dangling between long fingers. He brings it to his lips, the bright cherry red tip glowing as he takes a nice, slow drag and you scurry on past.

Not a word passes between the two of you, but olive eyes follow you up the stairs regardless, just like always. His name is Iwaizumi – Iwa – but you only know that because you’ve heard his friends yelling it down the hallway. In the three months since you’ve moved in, you haven’t so much as introduced yourself to the guy, but like most strangers crammed into the same shitty place there’s some kind of a routine between the two of you.

Why he religiously chooses this time of night to take his smoke break is beyond you, but like clockwork you’ll arrive home, having walked back from the bus stop and Iwaizumi’ll be there waiting for you, cigarette in hand.

Well, not waiting, just… there. Black leather jacket with a hoodie underneath, there’s a cut above his eyebrow tonight that he hasn’t bothered to clean, a purpling bruise colouring his jaw. Whatever dealings Iwaizumi’s tangled up in, you don’t like to think about too much, but you know it can’t be anything good. His friends dress like him, all have the same ‘don’t fuck with me’ vibe. You’ve seen their scrapes and bruises too – the weapons that stick out from the waistband of their pants – though you’re always quick to avert your eyes when they catch you staring.

You’ve heard them snickering about it when you hastily dart past, all but slamming your front door shut. 

And it’s not that you’re scared of him. There are people who play at being dangerous, and ones who are. Iwaizumi doesn’t strike you as somebody who enjoys playing, and while you don’t doubt for a second that he is dangerous, he isn’t to you. He wouldn’t go out of his way to hurt or scare you – you’re not even a blip on his radar – but what Iwaizumi is, at least as far as you’re concerned, the reason your step quickens and you can’t bear to meet his eyes, is intimidating.

Tall and broad shouldered, with those piercing green eyes. You’ve only seen him smile once, though it was more a quirking of his lips than anything else – usually he just stares, his expression halfway between impassive boredom and a scowl. 

No, Iwaizumi doesn’t scare you nearly as much as the bouquet of flowers you find sitting on your doorstep, a handwritten note tucked in between the roses.

—

The calls come next. You block one number and he rings from another, followed by endless texts. Cute little messages you suppose are meant to brighten up your day. 

Hi baby, love the skirt you’re wearing today. You know blue’s my favourite on you, always look so damn pretty. It’s like you’re trying to drive me crazy haha

Morning babe, I was thinking about you last night. You remember that trip we always said we were gonna take in the summer down to the lake? I can’t wait to bring you there.

Why won’t you answer my calls? I just wanna talk to you, hear your voice again. Let me make things right. I love you.

Don’t you miss me? I miss you. So, so much… You look beautiful today, by the way.

Baby, I love you, but you really shouldn’t be staying out so late with your coworkers for drinks. I just want you to be safe.

They’re not all soft and sweet though. Sometimes he just sends you pictures, and those creep you out most of all.

You change your number, and it doesn’t make a difference.

—

It’s hard for you to try and convince yourself that you’re imagining the prickling sensation on the back of your neck as you go about your day. You know he’s watching you – the messages and the voicemails just drive that home, but what else are you supposed to do?

You can’t just pack up and run again, and what good is a restraining order when you have no proof he’s violating it – and by the time you do, it probably won’t help you.

Kazuma’s always had patience, but only up to a point.

The final nail comes the day you arrive home to find one of Iwa’s friends heading out from his apartment – the tallest, with the curly dark hair. Barely spares you a glance until he seems to think better of it.

“Didn’t realise you had a boyfriend, sweetheart.”

He says it so casually, but the words make you falter, a sinking feeling in your stomach. “What do you mean?”

And for a moment, he looks half surprised that you’ve bothered to reply – so far you’ve done nothing but pretend to ignore him and Iwa and every last one of their friends. But the mirth slips from his expression quickly enough once he gets a good look at yours, “Blonde guy with a shitty dye job, tall-ish. Saw him leaving your apartment an hour ago.” 

But to walk out of your apartment, he had to have first gotten into it.

“Guessing he wasn’t your boyfriend then,” he says, eyeing you with an odd look. But you don’t respond and after a short pause, he simply shrugs and continues on his way. 

You couldn’t care less.

Kazuma was in your apartment.

Leaving flowers at your doorstep is one thing, but now he has a key. 

And it feels like there’s somebody else moving your body as you stumble towards your apartment, your hand shaking so badly that you fumble and drop your own keys twice before you finally manage to slide them home and push your way inside.

It’s waiting for you inside your bedroom, sitting atop your pillow; a pretty blue box wrapped with white ribbon.

Your phone flashes to life a minute later; an incoming message from an unknown number. 

Did you like your present, baby?? I hope you don’t mind, I kinda borrowed a little something too… 

With your heart in your throat you watch those three bouncing dots as the image comes through. 

A pair of red lace panties – yours – scrunched up in his fist, wrapped around his–

Your stomach heaves, and you barely make it to the bathroom in time before you’re hurling your guts up.

—

You’ve always had an impulsive side, and more often than not it’s landed you into trouble.

So you force yourself to calm down and think before you do anything rash. You head to the police station the very next morning to file a report, fresh off a sleepless night. The officer seems sympathetic, but you know before she even opens her mouth that there’s nothing they can do.

There’s no proof of a crime committed; nothing was taken (nothing you can prove, at any rate) and because your door wasn’t tampered with and the windows weren’t smashed, there’s no evidence of a break in. She suggests changing your locks and going to stay with some friends or family for a few days and you don’t know whether you want to laugh or burst into tears.

And instead of going back to work, you call in sick.

Iwaizumi isn’t sitting on the front steps when you get back home, and why would he be? You’re not supposed to be home for another few hours – so instead you head to his apartment door and mustering every last ounce of courage you possess, you raise your fist and knock.

Silence greets you. 

You wait for a moment, a heartbeat, not daring to breathe, but there’s no answer. Which, really, shouldn’t be that surprising considering it’s mid-morning on a Tuesday, but you can’t help the crushing sense of disappointment that washes over you. The thought of trudging back to your apartment to sit and stew alone for the next few hours while you wait for him to come back makes your skin crawl. You can’t just sit still and twiddle your thumbs, not when–

Abruptly, the door in front of you swings open, and you find yourself face to face with a glaring Iwaizumi. His expression falters, momentary surprise flickering across his eyes at the sight of you standing in his doorway.

This time you don’t avert your eyes. Your heart’s pounding, your hands clammy and trembling by your side, but this is the only choice you have left. And so as a single eyebrow cocks and Iwa falls into a lean against the doorframe – the only invitation you’re gonna get – you steel your nerves, take a deep breath, and speak.

“I-I need a gun.”

To his credit, Iwaizumi doesn’t snort. “You planning on shooting somebody, princess?”

They’re the first words he’s ever spoken to you, and they make your cheeks burn, your stomach twisting into a knot. It’s not a dismissal, but there’s a tinge of amusement colouring his tone and you can’t help but wilt a little under the weight of his gaze. 

Better sense would tell you to turn around, walk back to your apartment and curse your own idiocy for entertaining this stupid idea to begin with But Iwaizumi’s staring at you like he’s expecting an answer and all you can think about is the fear that gripped your heart last night, how you couldn’t bear to turn the light off, half terrified that at any moment Kazuma would come back – and this time he wouldn’t be satisfied with just some panties.

You can’t live like this, and you can’t just pack up your life and wait for the same thing to happen in the next place, and the one after that. Kazuma won’t stop, you know that. 

“I…” you chew on your bottom lip, dropping your gaze so that you’re staring at his chest instead of those piercing green eyes. “I don’t, I-I’m not–”

“A killer?” he interjects, and you almost flinch at his bluntness“Yeah, no shit.”

Taking another breath in through your nose, you force yourself to meet his gaze, even as your nails bite into the palm of your hand and your heart skips a beat. “I just want…” but you can’t even bear to say the words aloud, not without your voice shaking like a leaf. “It’s for protection. I don’t know who else to go to. Please,” you beg.

Iwa exhales heavily, a crinkle appearing between his brows as he frowns, “This got anything to do with the blonde asshole that’s been sniffing ‘round your place?”

Your bewilderment must show, because he snorts, finally stepping back to let you inside. “Mattsun told me,” he says, answering your unspoken question. 

The unmistakably hard edge to his words takes you a little by surprise, but you nod anyway, gingerly taking a seat on the couch when he jerks his chin at it. “Oh, uh, yeah. He’s my ex, kinda. We… didn’t end well.”

It’s the understatement of the century, but you somehow doubt a man like Iwaizumi gives two shits about your past relationship with a stalker. Your fingers play with the hem of your skirt as the imposing man settles down beside you. “So does this mean you’ll get me a gun?” you ask. “I can pay you, if that’s what you’re worried about. I have some money–”

Iwa scoffs, cutting you off. “If you think I’m letting you anywhere near a loaded gun, pretty girl, you’re dumber than I gave you credit for.”

You reel back as if he’s slapped you. But Iwaizumi’s staring at you with that steely expression and blood rushes to your cheeks. Why are you surprised? Did you actually think he was going to help you – a veritable stranger – just because you have some sob story? Why even bother letting you in if he was just gonna make you feel like an idiot? And for a moment you forget the gnawing terror that’s kept you up all night, letting yourself become awash with indignation. You have no control over the hurt noise that leaves your throat, but the ‘Fuck you’ that follows; that one’s intentional.

You don’t have time to regret the insult as you jump to your feet; his hand shoots out to wrap around your wrist, jerking you to a halt the moment you try it. 

“I didn’t say you could go,” he tells you, and you can’t fight the shiver that rolls down your spine at the unmistakably commanding tone. “Sit.”

Wordlessly, you comply.

“Look at me.”

Again, there’s that harsh undercurrent in his voice that tells you he’s not asking, and you lift your gaze with a tense swallow. Iwa still hasn’t released your wrist, the warmth of his calloused palm searing against your skin. 

He doesn’t speak for a moment, olive eyes studying your face intently as you force yourself to sit still under the appraisal. “I said that I wasn’t going to give you a gun, not that I wasn’t going to help.”

Your eyebrows draw together in confusion, “What–”

“I’ll take care of it,” he snaps, cutting you off once again. And as you inhale sharply, you realise that it’s not anger you see burning in those pretty eyes, but sheer, unrelenting fury, an icy rage that you don’t understand, that terrifies you as much as it enthrals.

Because you feel like it’s on purpose. Like he’s finally letting you get a glimpse of what silently seethes beneath that impassive mask of his. Are you scared now, sweetheart?

“H-how much?” you ask breathlessly, eyes wide and heart pounding. 

“I don’t want your money,” he says quietly, his voice low and husky. And just in case there was any confusion as to what he does want, his other hand comes up to your face, a broad thumb tracing along your bottom lip as he cups your cheek.

Iwaizumi leans in slowly, as if he’s giving you time to shove him away and tell him that you’re not that kind of girl. Part of you – the part that’s terrified, frozen stiff and regretting the very moment you decided to step into his apartment and cross that line – wants to. Even now, as those hooded olive eyes drink you in, his warm breath ghosting across your skin leaving goosebumps in its wake, you’re afraid that it’s too late for that. You’ve opened a door that should never have been opened and there’s been a fundamental shift between you and him. There’s no going back for either one of you.

And the other part of you revels in it.

“Don’t kill him,” you murmur the second before his lips meet yours. “Not unless you have to.” You don’t even know if he heard you, and as Iwa deepens the kiss, his tongue sliding against yours you find that you don’t care. You lose yourself to Iwaizumi as he leans closer, gently pushing you to lie back on the couch.

He isn’t satisfied with just your lips for long, planting hot, open mouthed kisses along your jaw and down the column of your throat, sucking on the sensitive flesh. His teeth nip at your collarbone as he busies himself unbuttoning your shirt, but your gasp sounds more like a needy whine than a plea for him to stop. 

He laughs a little at that, his chest rumbling against your stomach, but he makes no moves to slow down. Instead he turns his attention to your bra, his hands far less gentle with the delicate lace than he was with your shirt, and then his mouth is on your tits, licking, sucking, biting. Tomorrow, your skin will be littered with pretty red and purple marks, and judging from the single minded focus glinting in his eyes as he stares up at you, that’s exactly his intention. Iwa drags the flat of his tongue along the swell of your breast, circling it around your nipple before he sucks it into the wet warmth of his mouth, and the whimpering moan you give him in response is a thing of beauty. 

“Good girl,” he croons. “Such pretty, perfect tits.”

Your back arches when he cups the other in his hand, and you cry out when he roughly tugs the sensitive bud. He waits until the sting fades and you relax, sagging back against the cushions with relief before he does it again, harder this time. The sharp, searing pain ripples through you, your breath seizing in your chest as you try in vain to writhe away from his touch, but it’s followed by a flood of pleasure so strong it almost makes you dizzy. The fleeting kiss Iwa bestows on the supple flesh a moment later could almost be taken as an apology – if not from the satisfied smirk curling at his lips. He has no desire to be gentle with you, not today or any other day. That’s not who he is. 

Large hands ease down your side, reaching for the hem of your skirt. Iwa doesn’t bother trying to pull it off of you, merely flips it up, exposing your soft thighs and the delicate panties lying underneath. 

In an attempt to be helpful, you lift your hips to allow him to drag the lacy scrap of fabric down your legs and discard it, but Iwaizumi seems perfectly content with leaving them where they are. Even so, it takes you by surprise when his mouth descends on your cunt, the wet, pink muscle laving along the seat of your panties. You shiver in response, one hand instinctively reaching out to tangle in those spiky brunette locks, but if you’re about to tell him to stop teasing, the words are robbed from you when Iwa pushes the fabric aside and buries his face in the heat of your pussy.

His nose nudges at your clit and you jerk at the first lap at your folds, already shamefully wet for him. There’s no rhythm or rhyme to the way he eats you out, letting a long, thick finger slide into your cunt while he suckles and licks at your clit, but you can’t deny that it’s working. Your thighs tremble and quake beneath his hands, every second of his attention dragging you closer to unravelling entirely. And you’re awash with pleas, little whimpers and moans as he chuckles, the low vibrations making your fingers tighten in his hair as another burst of pleasure flutters through you. Your hips rise and fall against his face, desperate for more when he finally slides his tongue inside of your heat, eager to taste your cunt properly. You want more, you’re desperate and aching for it; but Iwaizumi’s grip tighten bruisingly against your thigh in warning. 

You’re at his mercy, and he’s in absolutely no hurry.

The first time you cum, it takes you by surprise. It feels like an endless build-up, Iwa’s tongue lapping at your pussy like it’s heaven sent, his mouth working diligently to drive you insane. Every touch feels unbearably good, from the long, slow strokes to the way he drags the tip of his tongue along your clit. Your toes are curling, your tits heaving with the desperate breaths you choke down, and all of a sudden his mouth latches onto your clitoris and he sucks hard at the swollen nub. You almost black out right there and then, stars bursting behind closed lids as pleasure wreaks havoc over your body. But as good as that feels, it’s not until you open your eyes and catch sight of the hunger blazing in Iwaizumi’s eyes that you tip over the edge, cumming into his waiting mouth with an earth shattering moan. 

At some point he must have let you go to rid himself of his own clothes, and your panties, but you’re boneless, basking in the afterglow as he shifts you once more, lifting one of your thighs up to hook your leg over his shoulder as he settles back onto the couch.

You just watch through hazy eyes as Iwaizumi gives his thick cock, already hard and flushed an angry red, a few cursory pumps. And his eyes are fixed on yours as he leans down, guiding the tip to your sopping cunt. 

“Fuck, you have no idea how long I’ve been dreaming of this, princess,” he grunts out. 

Warning bells sound in your head once more, your gut clenching uneasily, but any protests you might have voiced fall by the wayside as he slowly presses into you. It’s the girth, more than anything else, that takes you by surprise. It hurts, stretching out your poor, oversensitive cunt as his cock fills you up, inch by agonising inch. 

Iwa hisses from between clenched teeth and your eyes squeeze shut, trying to breathe through the pain. It won’t last long, you know that, and until it does you just have to grin and bear it.

You can feel it twitching inside of you, every ridge and vein, the way your slick walls hug his cock. His thumb strokes along your hip, soothing you as your face screws up and another whimper slips out. You think you hear him say something, praise maybe, or encouragement, but all you can focus on is the way his cock throbs inside your pussy when he finally bottoms out and stills.

And for a moment, he doesn’t move. A small kindness, letting you become adjusted to his size before he fucks you the way he’s dying to. 

“Look at me,” he says, and while his tone isn’t as sharp this time, it’s no less of an order.

Your eyes flutter open as Iwaizumi turns his head just a fraction without breaking eye contact, pressing a soft kiss against your calf. His eyes are glazed with feverish lust, pupils blown wide, almost swallowing up that thin ring of olive green entirely, and you wonder whether you should feel afraid right now.

You don’t have the words to describe it, the distant unease that seeps through you as you stare into the eyes of a man who’s clearly not in control anymore. If you screamed right now, tried to fight back or stop him, would it make a difference? 

Do you actually want to?

“You’re mine,” he growls out, drawing his hips back and slamming them forward ruthlessly as you choke on a scream. 

He’s relentless, hissing out curses as he fucks you like a rag doll, filling your wet, tight little cunt again and again and again. It’s all you can do to fist at the edge of the cushion, one hand wrapping around his back, your nails raking down his skin, drawing blood in their wake.

And Iwa doesn’t care, tossing his head back as he pounds his cock into your needy cunt, his balls slapping against your ass with every thrust. “Iwa,” you plead between gasping breaths, clinging to his broad frame. You don’t even know what you’re begging for, not as he grabs you by the hips and lifts you up, hauling you closer so he can fuck you deeper. And you can feel his cockhead rutting against your cervix with every vicious thrust, the painful stretch of your cunt as you’re forced to take his fat cock. It hurts, it does, but holy fuck you can’t focus on that when his fingers slip between your legs and he starts to rub at your puffy, oversensitive clit.

You’re whining, mewling, hips shifting as you rock against him, desperate for more friction. “Please, Iwa,” you moan.

The sound of it, the lewd slaps of skin against skin, the wet squelching as he drives his cock home again with an unforgiving pace would be enough to make you burn with embarrassment, but you don’t care because you’re quickly losing yourself to mindless pleasure. Every stroke fills you completely, it’s hot and thick and the drag of his cock against your plush walls, the way it kisses that sweet perfect spot with every thrust is driving you to insanity.

“Fuck!” you cry, clenching tightly around his length as you hurtle over the edge for a second time. You’re gushing, convulsing, back arched up off the couch, lips parted and–

Iwaizumi stops with a growl and you barely have time to process it before he’s flipping you onto your front, yanking your ass up into the air and hammering his cock back into your swollen, abused little pussy. It’s a bruising pace he sets as he chases after his own end, your name falling from his lips in harsh, breathless grunts. 

It doesn’t take long for his thrusts to become sloppy, your cunt sucking him in and pulsing around his cock. And you don’t have the mental capacity to beg him to pull out, not as his muscular chest collapses against your back, his arms wrapping around your waist and he pumps you full of his seed.

Neither one of you move straight away, both fighting to catch your breath and calm down in the afterglow of your orgasms. Your eyes flutter shut as he presses soft, sweet kisses to the back of your neck, your shoulders, anywhere he can reach. It’s an intimacy that doesn’t belong here, but you find yourself arching into it, a small, tired smile curling at your lips as Iwaizumi lavishes you with affection. 

And you can only whine softly when he finally pulls his cock out and stands, lifting your boneless form up into his arms, chuckling quietly when you bury your head into his chest. Your head’s empty, your thoughts a jumbled mess as he carries you into his bedroom, depositing you carefully onto the bed. 

Iwaizumi leaves you there like that, and when he returns a few minutes later he’s dressed again. He doesn’t smile, but there’s something oddly content about his expression as he stops by the doorway and takes in the sight of you; naked and thoroughly fucked out, curled up amongst his covers. 

“Iwa?” you ask sleepily, stretching your aching body to make yourself more comfortable as you nestle further into the soft mattress.

He doesn’t answer you as he strides in, but you watch through half lidded eyes as his expression hardens. Stopping by the bedside, Iwaizumi reaches for you. You think he’s going to cup your cheek again, maybe run his fingers through your hair, but instead his hand slides between your thighs, gathering up some of the cum that’s seeped from your pussy with his fingers and slowly pushing it back inside of you, humming when you whine and shift under him.

“I’m leaving for a bit,” he tells you, your gut clenching as you remember why you’re in this position in the first place. “You don’t leave this apartment until I get back. You don’t answer the door, you don’t tell anyone you’re here, you don’t leave this bed unless you have a goddamn good reason. Understand?”

Weakly, you nod.

“Such a good girl for me,” he breathes, and this time when he leans over he does kiss you, sweeping your hair back from your face before his warm lips meet your cheek. He lingers there for a beat longer than necessary before pulling away with a sigh.

And as the door swings shut, the sound of the lock clicking into place behind him, you begin to question whether you’ve made a mistake. You don’t doubt for a second that Iwa will follow through with his promise. Whether it’s tonight or tomorrow or a week from now, he’ll find Kazuma; him and his friends, and they’ll make sure he stays away. And until they do, you won’t leave this apartment.

There’s a sinking feeling in your stomach that despite your pleas, Iwaizumi’ll kill him. 

Not because that’s the only way for this to end, though you realise that that’s always been a possibility, but because of what you glimpsed in his eyes today. Stupidly, you’d thought you had Iwa pegged. But there’s something that lurks beneath that facade, something more dangerous than you could’ve possibly imagined and the moment you opened the door to Iwaizumi it sunk its teeth into you and now you’re not sure if it’ll ever let you go.

And as you lie back in Iwaizumi’s bed, covered in the marks he left behind you wonder whether you’ve merely traded one monster for another. Perhaps it was inevitable. Inexorable.

[seokjinsonlyone]

so i got on tiktok for more than five minutes for the first time in like a month the other day and i saw they was doing this trend where it’s sorta like fmk but like husband, boyfriend, or sneaky link and i just wanted to add my two cents

namjoon:

this is your boyfriend

i know you may be thinking ???? boyfriend???? not husband??????????

but yes boyfriend listen we all know this man is brilliant; big brained and big bodied; cognitive skills off the charts; he knows a thing or two about a thing or two

however, he just ain’t there yet 😭 he don’t even got his license y’all gon flub on the contraceptives once or twice and next thing you know you strapping your kid into the basket of his bike so he can drop them off to school 😩

and his cooking……….. like watching this man with a knife gives me anxiety

he has a bit of growth to do but that’s why you date before getting married 🥳🥳🥳

y’all would go on the beeeest dates i’m talking museums, picnics, hikes, and yes bike rides

and like he’s just so sweet and thoughtful and he tries his very best to be gentle despite his destructive nature so it would just be so cute and fun for him to be your boyfriend

seokjin:

it goes without saying that this is your husband

to be honest ion even really need to elaborate on this one like…

he cooks; he cleans; he’s thoughtful, supportive, silly, will do anything to make you happy…

everything you could ever want and need in a man is manifested in kim seokjin

so just lemme tell you what this ^^ gif is this is like three months after you’ve given birth to your second child

he got home from work way later than expected he was tired exhausted really but still helped you with your new baby taking turns tending to them on and off all night

you had just gotten into a really good sleep when your alarm went off signaling it was time to get child number 1 up and ready for school

you groaned sitting up but before you could even get out of bed he was wiping the sleep from his eyes and telling you he was going to take care of it

“but you got off late last night and you helped me too”

he reassured you that it was fine and that he had it he knew how hard you worked all day everyday and you never got the opportunity to clock out

it was his day off anyway so he kissed your forehead and told you to get back to sleep

which was a bit easier said than done bc those two were like bulls in a china cabinet there was whining and scuttling all around a few disagreements on which outfit your child should wear and what they should eat for breakfast

but soon enough you looked out the window and saw jin adjusting his shorts and a few seconds later your child bobbling out after him backpack a little too big for their body before they walked hand in hand to the car

that’s… what that is… that’s your husband

and when i say your i mean mine that’s my husband

you can keep scrolling 😗✌️

yoongi:

husband <33333

like jin this man is the total package

he cooks, cleans, is loving and supportive, will take care of you emotionally, and on top of that he’s handy! extensive knowledge about interior design!

like if you want some pictures hanged or a shelf built or something this is the man for you

your lil bob the builder <3

like idk what it is with this man but something about him is just so soft and makes me want to love and be loved by him

like if this is not your husband this is your long term boyfriend you are dating him for no less than five years and when you part way you ain’t gon know how to live without him

so don’t leave

bring the documents he already said so

hoseok:

boyfriend 100%

hobi just seems so partnerable

i look at him and i see movie nights and pillow talk

i see cuddles and late night facetime calls

your own personal hope on the streets when he wants to loosen up or practice or relieve stress😩

you go to a restaurant and each pick a dish and share it with each other like he’s very much giving one milkshake 2 straws

or you two cook together side by side he’s chopping vegetables and cleaning while you’re sautéing and stir frying and what not

you go shopping with him and critique his outfits when he tries them on and vice versa

i don’t even know man i just see hobi and i think he’s flawless i want to give him the world

and i think about that time when he said one of his personal goals was to become special to someone 😭😭😭

so like girl get your boyfriend and just give him all the love he’s searching for all the love he deserves

jimin:

….sneaky link

look at him smh caught in 4k sending a “you up?” text at the tender hour of 3am

idk what to tell ya man he just ain’t bout it rn

he ain’t looking for nothing but fun

atm it’s just him and his bros

every once in a while he’ll go searching for a connection for a night or two

there may be a few repeat offenders a string of flings if you will but never anything serious

i can see it in his eyes everyone can really bc he flirts with every living and nonliving thing in sight

taehyung:

husband

now you may be thinking… is he not on par with namjoon when it comes to practical skills???

and like yes perhaps but he definitely is not as much as a liability

like i think i can trust him to open a packet of barbecue sauce without risk of ruining my outfit and like i know i wouldn’t fear for my life if he was slicing a hard boiled egg

which is not to say that i wouldn’t mind getting stabbed by joon there are certainly worse ways to go but that’s not what we’re talking about

what we’re talking about is tae and how i just know with him you’d be safe physically mentally and emotionally 🥺🥺🥺

and idk if it’s bc i done seen him in slacks one too many times but something about him just screams commitment

like he’s giving 401k he’s giving life insurance he’s giving condo in florida where you spend the winter bc your bones get too cold where you normally live

but you know what he’s also giving passion like you will 100% spend the rest of your life in love with this man

like in that picture it’s giving you’ve been married for three years it’s wednesday and he’s off so he asked you on a date

it’s taking you longer than anticipated to get ready you wanted to look pretty for him bc truthfully you don’t get to go on dates often as much as he’d like to

your hair and makeup is finally done so you find him and tell him you’re almost done and you’ll be out as soon as you slip on your outfit

he lazily turns his head to you and tells you to take your time there’s no rush and he’s just looking at you with absolute hearts in his eyes

you’re not even fully ready and there’s hearts in his eyes 😭 it makes your heart race and you can’t keep the smile off your face as you get ready for your date, for the rest of your life together with him

jungkook:

i know y’all gon hate to hear this one but… sneaky link

^^ that may be your boyfriend but you ain’t his girlfriend 😭

that is the face of someone you called and told that you wanted to stop messing around bc you was getting attached but he convinced you that it didn’t have to be all that and acted cute until you changed your mind

listen this man is in his prime he ain’t tryna settle down

the moment you try to commit is the moment he jumps out the window

and this is not to say that he’s not a good boy but like i’ve known jungkooks i’ve been friends with jungkooks and the second you try to take things farther than what they want that’s when they stomp all over your heart

however i do firmly believe that jungkook ain’t like them others he’s more than a good boy he’s the best boy

and if he like idk heard bells when you walked by or was pulled by the red string of fate or like felt the yearning or whatever it is that he done conjured up in his head he’d be everything and more 🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰

[chericarlisle]

You asked for Carlisle Cullen requests and I am here to deliver❤️ can I ask for a fic where the reader finally confesses to Carlisle they are in love with him? Preferably fluffy with some kisses 😌, I would also prefer the reader not be a doctor or nurse if possible! Thank you so much!

𝐌𝐲 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐃𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐌𝐞 || 𝐜.𝐜

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: carlisle cullen x human reader

(𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝)

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2k

𝐚/𝐧: i hope you enjoy this! i tried to think of a way to get the two to meet, but have it still correlate! so the reader will be Alice’s friend :) thank you for requesting <3 please know that the reader is NOT a minor!!!

For the years that you had attended Forks High, you had grown close to a certain Cullen daughter, Alice. Her personality was that of a pink rose and its symbolism. She was more than one could want in a best friend, and between her amazing advice or sense of fashion, there was never a dull moment. 

Unlike a majority of the students, Alice was genuine and welcoming, causing the two of you to grow close as friends. It made you feel like high school wasn’t so bad after all.

As you talked more and more with Alice, you often wondered why the rest of her family was so reserved. They rarely interacted with any one else who didn’t share the last name ‘Cullen’. Alice, though, was the exception, having branched out to you.

 It seemed that being friends with Alice was something that was a package deal because on occasion, she’d bring along her boyfriend Jasper. You didn’t question their family dynamic as Alice had already explained in simplest terms who they were. It was a much better definition than what Jessica had told you and the rest at that table on the first day. Looking back, it was more petty gossip than it was useful information.

For the first summer, you didn’t see much of Alice and rather texted her much more. You’d invite her over, but it appeared that they were on a long family vacation that summer. It was then that you truly realized that you knew nothing about Alice, let alone the Cullens, aside from what you had been told at school. 

There was something that constantly affected Alice’s decision making, along with her siblings, but you didn’t yet know that factor, and you wouldn’t for a while. Instead, you let your mind consume the harsh option that Alice wasn’t exactly the person you thought she was. Maybe she really was just like the rest of the Forks High students. 

Fortunately, your fears were consoled that next school year.

After much consideration, Alice eventually invited you over to her house where you officially met the rest of the Cullens. Edward, Emmett, Rosalie, and Jasper acted so much differently than they did at school in the way that they even acted at all. Normally, they would just go through the school day rarely interacting with any one or anything else but themselves. It made you curious as to why they weren’t like this at school. They seemed to be such lovely people so why would they be so monotonous for eight grueling hours of the day. 

You were able to see where they got those characterful values from. Well, more so who.

Dr. Carlisle Cullen, their adoptive father who looked too young to be a father at all and was so perfect that he must’ve been a hallucination. 

Since that moment three years ago, you’d gone over almost every other weekend to do whatever extravagant thing Alice had planned for you. She hadn’t had a real friend in so long that she wanted to make up for all the missed time. 

Over the course of time, the man, who you knew only as Dr. Cullen, had caught your eye. His compassionate mannerism and old fashioned style was something that just seemed to make you fall head over heels. At the mere sight of Dr. Cullen, the heat of your cheeks would make itself known and you wanted nothing more than to slap some sense into yourself. Whenever he spoke, you shamefully latched onto every word, his voice ever so comforting. The small smile resting on his lips whenever he spoke to you added even more charm and there was no hope left for you. This man made you swoon and you were so embarrassed over the fact that he was the adoptive father of your best friend. 

High school graduation arrived in no time and along with it a huge family secret. A family secret that wasn’t yours, but once again, relating to the Cullens. 

The family revealed it at a dinner, which was a rare occasion, considering that you hadn’t ever really seen them eat. You came over to their house like any other visit, except this time, the inviting smell of a freshly cooked dinner greeted you at the door. 

The lovely dinner and charming smiles were all just the calm before the storm. Playful conversation ceased and suddenly Carlisle was speaking on behalf of everyone at the table. In a matter of seconds, it went from ‘casual family dinner' to ‘game show questionnaire' that was borderline an interrogation with the lack of feedback you were receiving. None of the Cullens, not even Alice, would confirm or deny any inquiries that left your mouth, leaving you to your own judgment. It was almost like your speculation was crucial to ending the slew of questions. 

Eventually, you drew up the conclusion that they were vampires. You said this with such lighthearted intent that you were waiting for the big joke until you scanned the tables and saw their emotionless expressions.

All that you could really remember was falling from your dinner chair with Carlisle, who was sitting right beside you, catching your fall before you became close friends with the hardwood floor. 

Needless to say, it took a moment to process this information, but you still continued on with Alice and her family. They were still the same Cullens you had known since the beginning and a small sliver of their real life wasn’t going to change who they were to you.

A couple of months later, you were spending the night with Alice for the weekend. She wanted to go visit Seattle for the day and do some holiday shopping. You readily agreed, remembering that you had to get some gifts for your own family. Shopping with Alice was always an experience, but an entertaining time nonetheless.

You had gotten there Friday night as both you and Alice planned to leave the next morning. There was no point in leaving now as the stores had been closed for at least a couple of hours. 

Walking in the living room, you saw Emmett and Rosalie thoroughly invested in a comedy on tv. You had invited Rosalie to go shopping, but long hours with Alice in a store was not an activity for the less patient and she knew this. Edward was apparently missing from the scene, but Jasper, who was standing afar, greeted you and said that he was out with Bella. Jasper had finally loosened up around you, and after the family’s confession, you understood why he looked so uncomfortable all the time. The willpower these people had astonished you. 

Alice had disappeared after letting you in and it wasn’t until she returned with Dr. Cullen in tow, that you truly noticed she was gone. You bashfully greeted the doctor to which he returned with his signature smile that could make you melt. 

“I know this is bad timing, (y/n),” Alice walked to stand beside you, “But I have to go hunt, as do my siblings. You’ll stay here with Carlisle. He doesn’t need to go with us right now and we can't leave you alone.” By the end, the petite vampire was smirking and you jokingly scowled at her little plan. She knew of your silly crush on Carlisle and would relentlessly tease you about it, as a best friend would. 

Before you could even answer, Emmett, Rosalie, Jasper, and Alice were out of the room without so much as a peep. You shook your head at Alice’s sneakiness, forgetting for a second that a certain someone was left with you.

“How about I make you some dinner, (y/n)?” 

The way he said your name was something you could never handle. It just rolled off his tongue like any other word would, but with the hint of his accent, it sounded so lovely.

“I don’t mean to be a nuisance. Dr. Cullen.” 

Already flustered with the whole situation, the last thing you wanted was to bother Dr. Cullen any more than you thought you’d already done. 

As if he could read minds, the blonde stopped in his tracks to face you. “Please, call me Carlisle and you are never an inconvenience, (y/n). Besides, I’ve already hunted so I’m more than happy to be here with you.” 

Carlisle, being kind as usual, shouldn’t have said such words because your brain was currently going into a frenzy as his thoughtfulness. If it was possible, your heart must’ve been beating faster than what would be considered healthy for someone actively working out. 

You weren’t able to find the words, but instead able to offer what you hoped was an endearing grin.

In the kitchen, Carlisle searched the desolate fridge in hopes of finding some food. The kitchen and its appliances were more of decor than they ever were useful. 

After a minute or two, Carlisle closed the freezer door of the fridge, a pack of steak in his hand. 

“It seems steak will have to do tonight.” 

You shot him a pleased look. “You can’t go wrong with steak.” Famous last words.

While you insisted on cooking your own food, Carlisle returned the same persistence and eventually you gave in. 

The two of you carried on a conversation while he cooked. Talking with him seemed so natural that for a moment, you weren’t nervous about talking to this man.

Carlisle plated the steak and brought it before you, an excited look painted on your face. He sat down beside you and eagerly waited to see how the steak turned out. At first, you felt a bit bad that he wasn’t going to eat anything, especially after all the trouble he had gone through.

“Carlisle, are you sure you’re fine? It just feels so wrong eating in front of you like this!” 

He chuckled, quickly placing his hand on your own to reassure you. “I’m fine, truly. I just hope it’s edible.” 

You grabbed the steak knife, jokingly rolling your eyes at his statement. Upon cutting into the steak, an unpleasant rush of cow blood came out revealing that the steak was far from even being rare. 

Immediately your plate was being scooped up and brought to the kitchen counter where you joined Carlisle. 

“I’m sorry, sweetheart, it’s been some time since I’ve cooked anything and it seems that I haven’t caught up with modern cooking principles.” Carlisle looked a bit sheepish at the moment and you couldn’t help the giggle that slipped from your lips. You weren't sure if it was the unintentional term of endearment or his adorable attempt at cooking. Either way, Carlisle was relieved to see that you weren’t upset, but rather enjoying this moment. 

You stepped up beside Carlisle at the stovetop, shoulders touching as you reached across for the seasonings. “Here, we should probably season the steak a bit and clean off the pan.” 

As you continued to do your own thing and guide Carlisle in cooking, he carefully took each word of your advice.

“See, you did everything right, Carlisle. It was just the heat and time that threw off the doneness of the steak, a bit.” Your words ended with a small twinkle as you turned to face the man who’d been so intently watching. He seemed to be so entranced at the moment… and by you. 

It was like time was frozen and everything moved in slow motion, something you’d only see in a cheesy movie scene, except you were living it. Suddenly, life sped up and Carlisle’s cold hand was cupping your face and bringing you in for a kiss. You were happy that this was how you’d “confess” your love to Carlisle because words weren’t exactly your strong spot given the circumstances.

You two stayed lip locked for the longest moment in time, just pure bliss. It seemed like the kiss would never end until the smell of burnt oil hit your nose. Carlisle could feel you smiling against his lips and you began to peep out a small laugh. 

“I think we overcooked this one a little too much.”

a/n: i’m sorry if this is cringe-worthy, i wrote this at 12:30 am. i swear it will get better lol i just need to stop writing at ungodly hours of the night--

[mikeyinnit]

lovebug

Pairing: Wilbur x GN!Reader

Summary: Wilbur was done with love after he lost Sally, but when Fundy introduces him to one of Niki’s friends, things start to change.

Word Count: 2k words

Notes: Songfic!! I said they would be rare and it’s the second fic I post lmao. Inspired by Lovebug by the Jonas Brothers, totally willing to do a part 2 for this one because I have other ideas with other lyrics and stuff

Tagging: N/A

After Sally, Wilbur wasn’t really looking for anyone else to love, in fact, he had given up on love entirely. He had to focus on his son and the nation he was building from the ground up.  

Then you came into the picture.

You were a friend of Niki’s, that’s how he met you. Fundy was visiting the bakery and when Wilbur came to get him, he saw you helping the young fox hybrid make cookies. It was such a sweet sight that he took a moment to just enjoy seeing his son have a great time. When he did enter, Fundy introduced the two.

“This is Y/N! They’re one of Niki’s friends. Y/N, this is my dad. He’s single.”

Of course his son would throw him under the bus like that. But you just laughed, and god did you have a beautiful laugh, and held out your hand. A gesture that Wilbur returned with one of his charming grins.

“Fundy’s talked about you all day, I feel like I know you already…” you had trailed off, obviously Fundy only referred to him as my dad, prompting him to give his name.  

“Wilbur Soot.”

“Wilbur. It’s great to meet you.”

You gave him your phone number, clearly you were as taken with Fundy as the boy was to you, for him or his son to use anytime. Then you said your goodbyes for the night as you sent them on their way with the cookies you and Fundy baked along with some extra baked goods.

Called you for the first time yesterday

Wilbur hadn’t used your number for a good couple of days. He had been busy with L’Manberg and honestly had barely had time to see his son, let alone the enchanting stranger.  

Today was a day that he could actually spend quality time with Fundy, and obviously all of that time at the bakery while he was working just made the young boy want to bake cookies with his dad. Unfortunately, Fundy was very specific with what cookies he wanted to make. The ones he baked with you.

“These don’t taste like the ones Y/N made.” Was said numerous times throughout the night no matter how Wilbur changed the recipe so eventually, he just gave up and called you to figure it out.  

“Hello?”

Your voice rang out through the telephone and it instantly felt like all of the stress of this baking night was leaving his body.

“Y/N, it’s Wilbur. We met at Niki’s the other day?”

“Wilbur! Of course. How are you? How’s Fundy?”

Another grin was brought to his face at you almost immediately asking about Fundy, though he didn’t have the chance to respond as the aforementioned hybrid returned from getting more ingredients for the cookies and practically begged his father to put you on speaker so he could talk to you as well.

“Y/N!!”

It was almost like he could hear the smile on your face as you spoke to Fundy. “Fundy! What are you up to?”

“We’re trying to bake cookies but dad can’t make them like you.”

Wilbur heard that laugh again, that beautiful laugh that he first heard at the bakery.  

“That’s because your dad probably doesn’t know the secret ingredient that we used to bake those cookies. How about you give the phone back to him so I can let him know and then I’m sure you two will bake the best cookies ever.”

Then the phone was back in his hand and he spoke, “Secret ingredient?”

You grinned as you answered, “I just told him to tell the dough nice things in his life. Some people say speaking love into the dough helps, I don’t know if it’s true or not but he had fun with it.”

It sounded ridiculous, but Wilbur decided to try it.

“Thanks, Y/N. I’ll let you know how it goes.”  

This time, Fundy thought the cookies were perfect.  

I finally found the missing part of me

You became a big part of his routine after that night. He would see you at the bakery every time he came to get his son, he called you even when he was at work, you quickly became an important part of his life. Fundy loved you, days together often involved him telling Wilbur all about whatever the two of you got up to.  

Wilbur wasn’t a stranger to love, he loved Sally, he loved his country, he loved his son. But it felt very different with you. He couldn’t even say it was love yet, you just felt like you fit with him and Fundy. You were kind, and obviously cared about his son, you were funny, the texts and calls he exchanged with you never failed to put a smile on his face. And you cared about his son a lot, which was certainly not a negative. For the two of them, it felt like you were the perfect fit to the puzzle they didn’t realize was missing a piece.

I felt so close but you were far away

Getting used to having you in his routine meant it really sucked when you traveled to a village far away. Fundy missed you and honestly, Wilbur did too. You promised the young boy that you wouldn’t be gone for long, and told him that he was welcome to call you at anytime. Which Fundy took full advantage of. Every night before the young fox hybrid went to bed, he called you on Wilbur’s phone and the two of them heard about your day and they shared details of their own. On certain nights, you even joined Wilbur in singing a lullaby for him.  

People say that absence makes the heart grow fonder and that absolutely seemed true with your trip. Both of the boys missed you and wondered when you would be back, but luckily, you came back within a month. And you came back with plenty of gifts for Fundy, which made the boy ridiculously happy. You even got a gift for Wilbur, which was certainly a pleasant surprise since really, you being back was enough of a gift for him.  

That night, he invited you over for dinner. He said it was to celebrate your return, which is true, but he also just wanted to spend time with you now that you were back. You agreed, and the three of you even tried baking dessert, which resulted in a small flour fight initiated by you.  

Wilbur usually liked everything in order and in his control, something like throwing flour around and making a complete mess of his kitchen is something that Tommy would enjoy, but somehow it felt okay with you and his son.  

I never thought that I’d catch this lovebug again

After that night, Wilbur came to realize that he did like you, if not love you. You were a nice balance to his control and an escape from the stress of his job as president.  

At first, it felt like a betrayal to Sally. He decided he was going to focus on his son and his nation, not love. He decided that long before you came into the picture and he was a man of his word. Even if that word was only said to himself.

He knew he couldn’t just outright ignore you. Not only would that be unfair to you, it wouldn’t be fair to Fundy.  So he had to deal with it another way, throwing himself further into his work. It meant less time with his son but it was very productive for L’Manberg. Plus it meant Fundy got to see you and Niki more so Wilbur is certain that the young fox would understand and perhaps enjoy this more than spending time with him.  

There was a knock at his door but Wilbur didn’t even look up as he called out, “Come on in.” Obviously it wasn’t Tommy since the boy never knocked but it could have been Tubbo or Jack Manifold or even someone from outside of L’Manberg.  

“You would think that in a time of peace, the president would have more free time.”

He knew that voice. He could never forget the face that went along with it. Your smile and eyes never left his mind even with him trying his hardest to shut out the rest of the world.  

“Y/N, I wasn’t expecting to see you. What brings you by?”

“I haven’t seen you in a while, Fundy told me you’ve been sleeping here lately so I thought I would check on you.”  

And there was that kindness again. The kindness that made him fall in love with you in the first place.  

“I’m okay, Y/N. Just busy.”  

“Too busy to stop by the bakery to see your friends? Or to even come home and see your son at night?”

There was an edge to your voice and Wilbur wasn’t sure how he felt about it, obviously he thought that Fundy would prefer spending time with you and Niki over himself but it seemed like you disagreed.

You strongly disagreed.  

“I’ve just been busy. Running a country is a lot of work, Fundy will understand. He gets to see you and Niki more anyways, he’s happier that way.” He shifted his eyes back to the papers in front of him, letters he had been drafting for the past two hours and couldn’t get anywhere with.  

“Fundy is a child, Wilbur. Niki and I are happy to see him at the bakery but we aren’t replacements for his dad. His dad who suddenly became “too busy” almost overnight. What happened?”  

It truly was sweet the way you cared about his son that much. Enough to come to his office when you could be sleeping. This could have been a good moment for him to say what was on his mind, that he thinks he was falling in love with you and didn’t want to betray his dead wife. But he lied.

“Tommy has been getting into trouble with Dream recently, I want to make sure we don’t fight in another war so soon. Or ever again.” It was a solid lie, Tommy had a reputation for being a troublemaker and he could use that to his advantage. You seemed like you were about to speak, probably about Fundy, so he spoke first, “I promise that I will talk to Fundy and see him more as soon as I get this figured out. Thank you, Y/N, it’s really nice Thank you, Y/N, it’s really nice to know that someone else cares about Fundy this much, he needs that.”

“It’s not just him that I care about, Wilbur. I wish you would see Fundy more sooner but I was also worried about you, I know you care about him so something had to be going on for you to miss seeing him this often.”

Well that certainly didn’t help with him trying to ignore these feelings.

“Then I thank you again. I really appreciate it. Goodnight, Y/N. Get some sleep.”

“Goodnight, Wilbur.”

I kissed them for the first time yesterday

Wilbur kept the promise he made to you. Considering the reason he gave you for being busy was a lie, it wasn’t hard to get back to seeing his son and by extension, you.  

If you asked him, he would say he’s handling his feelings for you rather well now. He hasn’t done anything about it but he isn’t shutting out the world so, progress.

It was another dinner night with you and Fundy, you had brought desert with you this time so they didn’t have another flour fight but it was still lovely. After he sent Fundy to bed, you stuck around.  

The two of you had been sitting on the couch together for a whole, just talking about anything, and maybe it was just because it was late and you looked so beautiful but something came over Wilbur and he asked, “Would you mind if I tried something?”

You nodded, curious about what he was going to try, but you didn’t stay curious for long as Wilbur gently cupped your face with one hand and leaned in to kiss you.

A kiss that you returned.  

I never thought that I’d get hit by this lovebug again