#at least until I work through these feelings

[nereidprinc3ss]

weber's law

in which spencer reid comforts fem!reader when she's having a panic attack at the rossi mansion

fluff warnings/tags: panic attack lol, spencer is really cute and sweet my little perfect cutie pie angel baby, classic spencer info dumps bc they're pretty much his love language, established relationship, cheesy and sweet at the end a/n: this one is for my queens with panic disorders who are triggered by literally nothing and everything i see you have this ilysm

When Spencer had invited you to a small get-together at Rossi’s, you’d imagined a small get-together at Rossi’s. 

And maybe that makes you a complete idiot. 

Or maybe Spencer is just so used to FBI work functions that to him, this really is small.

But now you’re sitting on an expensive couch in a very nice house, and you’re surrounded by FBI agents who are all milling around and talking and laughing, and you’re worried maybe your outfit doesn’t look as nice on you as you’d thought it did, and you keep having very vivid visions of spilling your drink all over a furry throw rug that probably costs more than your rent does. 

Music that could reasonably be considered relaxing or at the very least not objectionable plays over the sound system throughout the whole house and thus is inescapable—not that you’d get up from the couch even if you could, because Spencer is sitting to your right and he has his hand on your thigh and it’s the only thing that has until this point been keeping you from a full blown panic attack.

Maybe that makes you a complete idiot, too.

Regardless, you try to focus on nothing but the weight of his hand as it travels slowly up and down from knee to hip over the jeans you’re not so sure about, and the feeling of your breath coming and going, as slow as you can possibly summon it without passing out. 

Spencer is laughing at something JJ is saying as she stands next to the couch with Will and you really like JJ but her voice seems so loud right now, and nothing is going particularly wrong but everything feels so, so wrong it’s scary. 

All the buzzing tension in your body telling you to run away because you’re unsafe and at the same time locking you into place builds until you have to express it somehow. So you revert to an old habit—bouncing your leg rapidly like a rabbit thumping its foot. It’s not entirely conscious, but it feels better than being completely still. That is, until Spencer’s hand strays inward and cups just above your inner knee, where he begins fanning his thumb back and forth over the fabric. 

“What’s this?” he murmurs, head angled toward you and voice low enough to not draw attention. You force yourself to plant your heel to the ground even though it worsens the feeling of gears crunching in your chest. 

“Nothing. Sorry.”

That gets his attention. 

Because of course it does. He’s always telling you to stop saying sorry so often. 

His tone solidifies, still quiet but committed to this conversation now and no longer the whispery apparition of a quick aside. 

“Why are you sorry?” 

“I don’t know, it wasn’t—it’s nothing.”

You barely avoid apologizing again. 

For a moment he doesn’t speak, just watches you—and you make the mistake of raising your gaze to meet his. He has that curious, analytical look about him, concern tightening his eyes and knitting his brow. He’s doing that annoying mind-reading thing again, and as soon as he actually sees your eyes, he’s figured you out. 

“Do you want to go outside for a minute? Get some air?”

After examining his face for any clues that he’d rather stay in here, (not that you’d really know what to look for), you nod hesitantly. Spencer mirrors your nod and stands, holding out his hand for you to take as you follow suit after setting your drink on a side table (without spilling.)

JJ is now wrapped up in conversation with another agent and the two of you manage to abscond without attracting unwanted attention, which makes you feel slightly better as Spencer leads you deftly through rooms with high-vaulted ceilings and big windows and heavy, expensive looking oak furniture. It seems like you’ve been wandering through a maze when you arrive to a quieter part of the house and he opens a french door for you—which leads out onto an empty patio. 

A cool breeze immediately sinks into your skin, and your nervous system is so hyper-alert that it gives you chills. Spencer notices the way you shiver and steps closer after closing the door behind him, his hand finding the small of your back immediately. 

“You okay?” he asks, intentionally avoiding impeding your view of the sweeping backyard and the trees beyond. Sometimes focusing on something stationary is less overwhelming, but they’re so tall they seem imposing. Threatening, even. 

But then again, everything feels threatening right now. 

“Yeah. I’m fine.”

Spencer seems unconvinced by your monotone—when you glance over at him he’s still watching you like you’re a puzzle to be solved. 

“Are you sure? You can tell me if you’re not.”

“Why are you so convinced something is wrong?” you laugh, but it comes out too manic. You cross your arms. He looks pointedly at the motion. 

“For starters, that. Often times crossing your arms is a subconscious way of comforting yourself when you feel defensive or threatened. And you could say it’s because you’re cold, but—” he pauses, reaching out to touch your cheek. “I can feel how hot your face is, and you shivered when we came outside even though it’s 71 degrees because your nervous system is overreacting to external stimuli. The leg-bouncing is also often indicative of an activated parasympathetic nervous system. Is me touching you okay?”

Again, you nod—unsure how to deflect when he calls you out so efficiently. 

Spencer’s hand slides down to just beneath your jaw, where he rests two fingers. Each second that passes has him looking progressively more worried. You wish you weren’t quite so catatonic—the fairy lights hanging from the pergola shine through his hair and make him glow so appealingly you want to kiss his cheek. 

“Your heart rate is really high, honey.”

That would be due to the sense of impending doom. Thanks for pointing it out.

But you’ve lost your words, and along with them has gone your sense of humor. All you can manage for a 30 second span is a meaningless shake of your head as you avert your eyes, staring at the sprawling carpet of blue-green grass soaked in night as each blade doubles with your tears. 

“I think I’m dying,” you finally croak.

“Technically, we all are. Very slowly.”

Ah. There’s that social tact he’s so well known for. 

“Spencer.”

“Right,” he kisses your cheek as you stare up at him, affronted, and pulls you into his chest. “Sorry. I was actually trying to be helpful. Changes in brain chemistry and hormonal activity associated with panic attacks change your perception of time and make things feel really fast which can contribute to feelings of anxiety. But in reality time is moving just the same as it always is. One second is always one second. Sometimes remembering that helps me to slow down. Not literally, of course. My gravitational pull isn’t great enough to have any discernible effect on the passage of time.”

You sniff, pressing your cheek to his tie. His words make your head spin, seeing as you hadn't been prepared for a lecture in psychophysics—but it spins in the opposite direction than it had been going previously. It's nice.

“Change your perception of time?”

“Weber’s law of perception. Stimulus sensitivity will increase proportionally with increased stimulus intensity. You’re only perceiving time to be going faster because your cortisol and adrenaline levels are making you hyper-vigilant and sensitive to all the markers of time passing.”

“Like what?”

Spencer hums, the bass of it a comforting resonance against your ear, and strokes your hair unhurriedly. 

“Like… your internal clock. Your body measures time with your heartbeat, so when your heart rate increases, time seems to go faster. Also environmental cues, which lead you to understand that the world is not stagnant and thus is not frozen in time. Like the sound of the wind chimes…” he pauses, long enough for you to realize that indeed, you can hear the gentle, sonorous ringing and tinkling of steel chimes bouncing against each other. “And the wind itself, which is coming all the way from the Gulf of Mexico. Some studies actually suggest that wind direction can affect your energy levels and mood.”

It’s a gentle breeze more than it is full-blown wind. It feels cool against your hot skin. 

Spencer’s hand on the back of your head, still rhythmically smoothing your hair, seems to slow down the passage of time as well. You focus on that, and the sound of the wind chimes and the breeze on your skin for a few minutes, until your breathing and your heart rate slow and soon you regain your footing in the temporal dimension, exactly sure of where you stand on Rossi’s patio and in your boyfriend’s arms. 

“You tricked me into doing a grounding exercise,” you mumble into Spencer’s jacket. 

“I did not trick you,” he defends, voice quiet to match yours. “I just wanted to make you feel better. Did it work?”

You pull away from him and he lets you, watching on as you sniffle and wipe your tears on your sleeves. 

“Yeah, it did. Thank you.”

For a moment, neither of you speak as you gather yourself. He leads you by the hand to a cushioned hanging bench at the end of the patio, taking a seat next to you and gently rocking the swing. 

“Do you know what triggered that?” Spencer asks, over the gentle creaking sound. You shrug, observing the dance of the fireflies in the grass. 

“Nothing. Sometimes I just feel like everything’s wrong and scary but I didn’t want to tell you and ruin your night.”

“Hey,” Spencer murmurs, pulling you into him with an arm around your shoulder. “You are not ruining my night. I don’t want you to worry about that.”

“But all your friends and coworkers are inside, and you’re out here with me.”

He angles his head down toward you and you look up to meet his eyes, even warmer than the sticky summer night. 

“I am. Do you know why?”

“Because I suck,” you sniffle, more hot tears rolling down your cheeks as you attempt to look away. But Spencer’s not having it. He encourages you to sit up again so you can look at him properly, before wiping tears away gently with his thumb. When he speaks, it’s in soft, soothing tones. 

“No. I’m out here because if all my friends were inside having fun, and you were outside having a panic attack, I would choose you every time.”

You manage a laugh through the crying. 

“I don’t know if that’s healthy.”

“Whether or not it’s healthy is an entirely different discussion,” Spencer smiles wryly, before it melts into something softer and more sincere. “All that matters is that it’s true.”

For a while after that, you simply lay your head on his shoulder. Spencer controls the speed of the swing with his much-longer legs, kissing your head and rubbing your arm as you admire the expanse of Rossi’s lush yard bathed in moonlight and the black silhouette of the forest beyond. 

Eventually, Spencer speaks again, likely to make sure you’re not spiraling alone in your head. 

“Can I tell you an extremely classified secret that I've been trying really hard to keep to myself for three days?” he asks, and the mischievous edge to his voice catches your attention. You hum in assent, already wondering what kind of information Spencer would have a hard time keeping to himself. It could be anything. 

“Anderson is sleeping with Childers from Operational Tech.”

“What?”

Despite not working for the FBI yourself, Spencer and Penelope have you so filled in on the drama that you know exactly why that’s shocking. 

You pick your head up to look at him like do not fuck with me right now. 

His eyes sparkle as he nods.

“Yep.”

“Didn’t you tell me Childers was dating that girl in sex crimes?”

Spencer raises his eyebrows. The corner of his mouth twitches. You gasp. 

“No! What? Does Anderson know?”

“I don’t know. I certainly didn’t want to be the one to tell him.”

“Wait—Anderson told you this?”

“Yeah!” He laughs incredulously at your complete disbelief. “People tell me things! I’m an excellent confidant!”

“If you’re relaying all of this information to me then you’re a terrible confidant,” you chuckle, still watery—but feeling light years better. 

Spencer brushes your hair away from your face fondly, leaning a fraction of an inch closer. 

“You don’t count. Telling you secrets is basically the same as keeping them to myself.”

“Basically,” you tease, angling your head up by a few degrees in invitation. Spencer says nothing, does nothing for a long moment—just studies you with soft eyes, continues stroking your cheek. When he takes too long to kiss you, you get impatient. “I’m still kinda anxious, you know.”

He smiles knowingly.  

“Yeah?”

“Mhm,” you nod, looking pointedly at his lips. “You should kiss me better.”

“I think that would take more than just one kiss,” he murmurs through a smile, leaning ever closer until your noses are bumping. “I think I would have to devote several hours to that. Maybe even a whole day.”

“How does tomorrow look for you?” 

He’s laughing as he finally presses his lips to yours. The kiss is sweet and lingering. 

“For you? It’s wide open.”

[seneon]

where they like to kiss you ──── blue lock various.

featuring. isagi, bachira, chigiri, nagi, itoshi brothers.

notes. i might write a part two with others characters but idk 😭 all fluffy headcanons. gn! reader.

𖥔 ݁ ˖ ISAGI YOICHI

yoichi loves to kiss your forehead. it also really depends if you have bangs or not. if you have bangs, he'll shift them up or pull them away to peck a quick kiss on your forehead. he's very sweet with kissing your forehead too... you can tell that he's intimate and he's showing his least (which is really a lot) amount of love through kisses on your forehead. the way you'd lean forward to let him kiss is also very cute to him!

𖥔 ݁ ˖ BACHIRA MEGURU

all over your face. i don't make the rules. you know this guy will not stop kissing until he kisses every part of your face. especially the part where you're most insecure about. your nose? he'll kiss it a hundred times. the acne scars? he'll kiss it a thousand times. meguru wants you to feel loved and appreciated ALWAYS. so he never leaves a single spot out. i feel he kisses your belly a lot too... idk 💯💯

𖥔 ݁ ˖ CHIGIRI HYOMA

hyoma adores your hands. super gentle with your hands. he's like those pretty prince charming that steals a hand kiss. this boy probably does hand care so don't be surprise is his hands are like prettier or better looking than yours. that doesn't stop him from also doing hand care on you though. he's so gentle and sweet, he kisses so intimately between your fingers and brings your palm next to his face so he can kiss it even more while smiling sweetly at you. wskjahsjs he's so...

𖥔 ݁ ˖ NAGI SEISHIRO

definitely kisses your jaw a lot. seishiro's super lazy, he leans or cuddles you ALL THE TIME .in result to that, expect a loooootttt of jaw or neck kisses. he doesn't even make it sexual, it's so natural and innocent as if he's appreciating you through his kisses. he's so koala core, very huggable. he's twice your size (probably) and a big baby. bro clings onto you and gives you hugs from the back too. and from those back hugs, he'll just... smooch your jaw. probably thinks your jaw/neck is so kissable...

𖥔 ݁ ˖ ITOSHI RIN

cheeks. rin doesn't really know how to be intimate with you. so when he saw his dad kissing his mom on her cheeks, he took that and does it to you. because his mom giggles, and you giggle, he believes that it works. to see your cheek flushed red is also an enjoyable sight for him. rin feels completed every single time he leans in to peck your cheeks. definitely would trick you into kissing your lips then pecking your cheeks because that's just who rin is.

𖥔 ݁ ˖ ITOSHI SAE

classically enough, sae loves to kiss your lips the most. of course he kisses elsewhere, but he finds lips to be the most affectionate. the older itoshi probably won't kiss elsewhere other than your lips, mainly because he finds kissing elsewhere pretty nonsensical. and he just loves the way your lips feel. he makes out with you a lot. just saying!!! the kissing session will be so romantic too like wow wdym wine candles soft music dim lighting warm atmosphere perfect scenery below... sae the man you are..

TAGS 𖥔 ݁ ˖ @hyoismbbg @saewako @kaiser1ns @noirflms @cheqorb @sakireiz

© SENEON 2024 ♱ do not repost, alter, or translate.

[lilyarchived]

too late [john price]

a/n: I wasn't originally gonna write anything yet because I still feel absolute dogshit, but this post by @gloomyyangel was too yummy to ignore.  I don’t really like this but what else can I do? Write some more? (gunshots)

warnings: smut after keep reading! (go away minors), swearing, hurt NO comfort, fem reader, mean!price at the start, 1.7k words oops, Lowkey abrupt ending.

summary: you let price imagine you as his ex wife because it will hurt even more to let him go, but what happens if he finally tries to make it up to you?

“F-fuuuck..” your husband groans. “Feels,, sso good, angie..” The sound of another woman’s name should be enough to make you feel bad, be enraged, scream at him, go apeshit crazy, right? Your whimpers of pleasure say so otherwise. It has been like this for years, you’ve come to terms that your husband, Captain John Price, will always see you as his ex wife. At some point you feel bad for yourself, you wouldn’t have let this shit slide. Hell, you wouldn’t even settle for a rich, handsome man all because he told you women should just stay quiet. The bitch slap you gave that man before storming out the restaurant stays engraved in the back of your mind, good days. 

But now? Now you’re settling for a man to imagine as if you’re his ex? Since when did your standards fall down to the deepest pit in the ocean? “ ‘m close, fuck, so tight for me.” You didn’t know whether to feel flustered or disgusted at the praise, knowing damn well he’s talking to angie in his mind. You gasp as your orgasm suddenly takes over your whole body, basking in that sweet, sweet pleasure. Hey, he can be a dick husband and still make you cum, nothing wrong with that. He follows suit after a few more thrusts, his hands beside your head grasping at the satin sheets. His moans ring through your ear until he finally plops down beside you.

You don’t expect him to clean up. At Least not like he used to. You get up to clean yourself before going back in the room with a warm and wet washcloth. You clean your husband up before noticing he’s already fast asleep. How did you ever get here? From your handsome Captain flattering you, taking you out on dates, treating you as if you are the sun keeping him warm, putting your pleasure first, and actually caring about you; to this man, ever so distant, calling you his ex wife’s name, never talking to you unless it’s work related or if he needs to let out some energy. And why the hell are you letting this happen? A man? Taking advantage of you? Making you some sort of sex doll?

You wish you could just be mad about it, scream and punch and cry, do anything to avenge your poor self. Yet you can’t. You love him too much, you love him like he painted the morning orange sky above, you love him like he hung up the moon and stars. You love him. Only Simon knows about his behaviour, you were a bit sceptical telling him everything since he always thought so highly of the captain, you feared he would take his side and tell you to get over yourself. You hadn’t expected him to pull you in a tight hug and whisper to you that you should leave him. You cried for the first time in a long time that night.

Snapping back to reality, you get dressed in your sleeping clothes and settle next to your sleeping husband. Staring into his shut eyes, wondering where you went wrong. You let your eyes droop to sleep, preparing your mind for another unbearable day tomorrow.

--

As months passed, you and John were still together, happy, no, but still married. You start to grow numb, never once batting an eyelash when he cums again after moaning “angie”. What an annoying sound in your ears it was. Don’t get me wrong, you still felt good whenever he decided to initiate something sexual with you. Your moans and whines fill the air alongside the sound of slapping skin. Simon gives you the usual disappointed look, but you honestly can’t tell if that’s his resting face or not. Then, everything changes.

“Darling, d’you wanna get food with me?” You freeze on the empty couch in the equally empty rec room. The sound of John’s voice making your heart skip a beat. He has never asked you to eat out with him, well ever since he normalised moaning a different name in bed. It’s like all his intimacy and chivalry left with your dignity. “Umm, I just had dinner Sergeant Garrick, Captain. I’m set for the night..” you reply after you peeked behind you, making sure he was talking to you. “At ease, I’m talking to you as my wife, [Y/N]” You let out a forced chuckle before going back to the book you were reading. “Why were you out with Kyle?” you hear him mutter. He can’t be serious. “..We were both free and hungry?” you reply in a meek voice. “I was free. Couldn’t even be bothered to ask your husband first?” 

The way your blood was boiling the moment that stupid sentence left his mouth. Why does he care? Does he think that he can moan a different woman’s name in bed and get away with it but you going out for dinner with a friend is all of a sudden, adultery? “You told me you’d be busy the whole day. Why is it a big deal I went out with Gaz? It’s not like I’ve been saying his name during sex.” You quickly shut your eyes, you didn’t mean to say that last part out loud. You prepared for his anger, instead you were met with a deep sigh. “I’ll let you be.” He says defeatedly, walking away from the scene. You see a confused Simon in the corner before squealing out of surprise. “How long have you been there, freak?” Simon only chuckles, “Tha’ don’t matter, Cap’n looks devastated. Ya think he’s been feeling guilty?” He sips on his black tea, you remove the hand clutching your shirt near the beat of your heart. “I don’t know, and I don’t care.” You fall face down on the couch to scream, ignoring Simon’s deep voice laughing at your pain.

What you both didn’t know is that John has been feeling bad for how he’s been treating you. He would notice your soft giggles echoing the hallways as Johnny picks you up and throws you over his shoulder, at how pretty you look in casual clothes, how your hair flows during bar hopping nights with the team, how your face shines in the city lights. How your nose scrunches when you get teased by Simon for liking your coffee too sweet. How beautiful you sound when he’s feeling you up and down, your surprised gasps as he rubs your clit in circles, how sinfully angelic you look when you come undone. Fuck, he really messed up.

So he makes it up to you, he cuddles after ruining your guts, he cleans you up, he wakes up before you to cook you breakfast. He makes your coffee the way you like it, gets you flowers every now and then, kisses you more passionately rather than his usual rushed ones. He loves you tenderly but it all seems foreign, even though he used to do it for the first few years of your relationship, you had already forgotten how it feels like to be loved by this man.

You feel nauseated. How could he go back to the way things were, like he hasn’t been giving you the cold shoulder for months now? Why now? WHY now? Why NOW? You stay cautious, every sweet move he’s doing puts you on edge. You knock on your Lieutenant’s door before he tells you to “come in” with that same ol’ gruff voice. As the night rolls in, you’ve already told him everything Price was doing, how he kept acting lovingly without addressing the past few months. He tells you you have two options: to confront him, or to go along with it. Neither of it seems appealing to you but deep down, you know he’s right. 

You thank Simon for the advice leaving his room to confront your husband tonight. The minute you walk into John’s room, his face lights up and asks you if you’ve eaten.  You scoff as you tell him you need to talk. “Why are you doing this to me, John?” you finally speak up after staring into the same eyes you fell for. His face drops, eyebrows furrowing, “What do you mean by that, dove?” A sigh escapes your soft lips, “Don’t call me that, John. Don’t act as if you weren’t just calling me, imagining me as your ex wife during our most intimate times. Don’t act like you haven’t been ignoring me, acting as if I didn't exist ‘til you needed work done or if you needed to have a shag.” You let out, tears staining your cheeks. John reaches out to wipe them but you move his hand away. “I mean, was it all a joke to you? Did I mean nothing but a body for you to imagine as if you were still together with her?” John finally talks, “You know it’s not like that, [Y/N]-” 

“Then what, John? What is it like? God, you- you” hyperventilating now, you search for the right words to come out. “You changed me. Acting like nothing’s wrong and being all sweet won’t work on me. I gave up on whatever our relationship was a long time ago.” His breath hitches, “Baby, please-” “I should go.” you cut him off. “Please, I’ll do better, we can start over?” he pleads, grabbing your arm. “It’s not that easy, John.” “Loving you is easy. I love you like it’s breathing. Please. You mean the world to me. I can’t let you go knowing i fucked up everything.” He sounds desperate now.

“I love you, John. But I don’t think I can ever love you like I used to.” He looks up to you, bloodshot eyes as tears pour over his face. You reach over to wipe them away. He leans into your touch. “Don’t give up on me, please?” You give him one last broken smile, “We’re way past not giving up, my love.” 

---

taglist for the people in the original post's comments LMAO (lmk if u want me to untag muheheh): @blackhawkfanatic @tf141gloryhole @montenegroisr @princesslikesfanfics @hoelesss

[mildlyromanticperv]

What took you so long?

MReader x Eunha fluff. Friends to lovers.

-Hey, you. -You call out for your best friend Eunha after arranging going out to watch a movie.

-Hey! -Her unwavering excitement and cuteness fills your heart with joy, like every time she smiles.

-You ready? We need to go fast, the movie starts in 15...

-Yep! Actually, I called a cab, it should be here any second... -She looks around waiting to see that yellow car, not long after it appears around the corner.

Upon entering and providing the directions you remain silent looking outside the window, lost in thought as your imagination runs wild on how will your best friend react when you finally say it, when you finally confess.

-Hey, you're quieter than usual, is everything okay? -Her sweet voice brings you back to reality as she places a hand on your shoulder.

-Yeah, I'm fine, work is just too much sometimes and I didn't get enough sleep. -You chuckle slightly trying to brush off the anxiety that you're feeling, certainly there's no good time to speak of your feelings...

During the silent car ride, Eunha can't help but feel uncomfortable, she's used to your bickering and unending yapping of your work or love life, or precisely the lack of it, drowned in worries she gets closer and covers your hand with hers.

-Look, sweetie, you can trust me, whatever's going on you know you can talk to me, right?

If you would have to create a scale from 1 to 10 grading the levels of blushing, you'd certainly be at 11 at that very moment feeling her soft hand and tender caress, she clearly worries, she is clearly caring for you.

-I'm fine, Eunha, for real, it's so cute of you to worry about me but I promise, I'm fine. -The way she looks at you with so much worry just melts your heart, even when through your mind hundreds of thoughts of insecurity and doubt clouds your judgement... Despite the fake smile you put up she smiles back.

-Okay I'll take your word for it but you better be telling me the truth, mister. -She crosses her arms and pouts playfully.

Not really paying attention to what just happened you two arrive at the nearby mall ready to spend the next two hours sitting in awe to the last Avenger's move you two are completely fans of.

Despite what people usually say, spending this much time together with your crush is not that bad, even though in your heart you feel like there's no future... Are moments like these the ones that make it all worth it, or at least that's what you thought all this time, it's what you thought until she closed the gap between you two after coming out of the cinema.

-God! Why are all cinema rooms so freaking cold!

-It's your fault for coming in such a cute dress. -You laughed at her reaction clearly amused and enjoying her closeness, despite her annoyed pout she smacks your arm murmuring "idiot", but in a playful way.

-I'm glad you came with me, Eunha, I know your sisters probably didn't want you to come alone with me... -You chuckle nervously.

-Nah it's fine, they're like that but because they're sure you like me. -Eunha says this without thinking and without expecting that her words would make her blush so hard... Why is this happening? Does she really like her best friend? Should she take the next step?

Her silence worries your heart, it's unlike her to become quiet all of a sudden and it's rarer to see her blush at her sisters teasing... Could it be...?

-Hey, I wanted to talk to you about something, why don't we go get some coffee? -Your reassuring smile sends a warm wave through her body, returning the confidence and her smile.

-Sure, but you don't have to be so cryptic, idiot... -Her usual self comes back as she pokes your cheek protesting.

Some time later...

"This is it." You thought, the time has come finally, is it now or never...

"Either you speak up or you'll lose him forever." The thought crossed her mind when you two finally sat down at the coffee shop and the silence covers you both.

-Eunha... -You're the one to speak first, a billion ways to tell her your feelings cross your mind and none of them is the way you had it planned. -I like you. -Is the only thing you blurted out after feeling everything at once, after all this time...

-I like you too. -Her words come like a bucket of cold water, you open your eyes as much as you can and gasp in full on shock when you hear her words.

Silence falls between you two.

Ten, fifteen, thirty seconds fly by feeling like an eternity...

-You really mean it?

-Yes, Eunha, I really mean it... Since always, I haven't been able to think of anyone but you. -You finally get the courage to look at her in the eyes. -I really like you.

Your heart starts to swell and ache at the sight of her tears coming down, you never thought such simple words would hurt her that way...

-I'm glad. -She says between tears. -Because I didn't know how to tell you either, I was afraid that once I told you our friendship... Us... Would end.

Maybe it's the influence of all the romantic novels and shows you used to watch alone, maybe it's the hero complex you developed when you were a kid, but without giving it a second thought you decided to stand up and quickly rest one knee on the ground while cleaning her tears.

-There's no way in hell I'm going to let us end. Especially now that I know that you feel the same way for me as I feel for you. -The soothing feeling of your hand running through her cheek makes this moment a million times better for her, your eyes meet as the emotions flow out like a stream. Despite the lack of words you are encountering in a bubble, where only you two exist... Where nothing else matters.

Where you two can finally be together.

-What took you so long to tell me? -She asks, the sheer raw happiness pouring out of her every word pierces through your heart making it beat faster and faster, rendering you unable to answer for a couple of seconds.

-I don't know, I seriously don't know! But... -You take a deep breath to collect the last bit of courage you need to take the leap, the final stretch, to kiss her. -But I'm done holding back.

Right at that moment you cup both of her cheeks to hold her into place, you quickly lean forward meeting her lips for the first time and even though it's a rash decision, you make sure your every movement is accurate, precise, filled with emotions.

Her lips respond to your touch dancing freely and hungrily as she returns the kiss with equal passion, she closes her eyes to savour every single second of this intense exchange, remembering every fold, every corner, every inch of you...

The time has finally come.

You two are finally together.

There's no stopping now.

-I love you. -She says after finally being able to convince herself she could live a couple of seconds without your lips and your touch.

-I love you too, Eunha.

[kyliekast]

I am politely begging for more of baby daddy!patrick zweig 🥲🙏🏾

i'll take any excuse to talk about it like literally any. please send asks about baby daddy patrick or baby daddy art or baby mama ex-wife tashi like i need it

you both went to the tennis academy and fucked around sophomore year, but you didn't ever take it seriously since you knew about patrick's reputation; however, unbeknownst to you, he stopped sleeping with other people completely while you two were fucking around. he had feelings. they never got acted on, though, because he doesn't think he can maintain a relationship, and before he might have had the chance to, you found out you were pregnant at the start of junior year.

you'd slept with a couple other guys, yes, but only patrick without protection, often, and using the ever-reliable pull out method. you're sure he's came inside at least a few times when you two were drunk as well. there was no question about whether he was the dad when your boy was born. they're twins, to the hair to the eyes to the smile.

your family is wealthy, so you decided to leave school to work for them. you expected patrick to not be in the picture and just send child support, as that seems like a very him way of going about it, but you were surprised when he wanted to take an active role. amazing for your son, obviously. awful for you.

he'll text you and ask things like, did you pack his bear onesie, and it'll be day three, so you know he's already gone through what you packed, and that yes, the onesie is there. he'll ask the same thing twice. he'll tack on questions about your life with questions about your boy. the articulate, wyd. they're thinly-veiled stabs at getting back into your space, and sometimes, they work.

during your son's first hanukkah (for those who don't know pat is jewish in the script), you go to drop him off for the week at pat's family estate, and he insists that you come in for food, a chat, coffee or tea or anything. and you do, because you've been craving his mom's challah since the last time you had it.

you sit together in the living room while patrick bottle feeds him, surprisingly competent. from his texts, you thought he was useless. you guess not. his hands are so big and your baby is so small he can hold him with one arm, a palm splayed across his head, big and swathing.

"he's hungry," pat says.

"he's always hungry. like you."

"you fucked up that challah and jam."

"i'm gonna kidnap your mom."

you both laugh, and it feel normal for a brief second, until you clear your throat.

"so, um. when you're on tour after the junior open coming up -- "

"i'm not going on tour. i'm gonna wait until he's old enough to travel."

you're surprised, and you can't hide it. tour's all patrick's talked about, all he's ever wanted. to win. the glory. the acclaim. your brow furrows. "oh. okay."

"i was just gonna work with art on his grandma's farm for now. when we're on break and stuff."

"you guys are, like. jack and ennis reincarnated."

he rolls his eyes, but he's smiling.

you laugh, "i can't imagine you doing manual labor."

he shrugs. "it's not manual labor, it's mainly taking care of the animals and stuff."

"the fact that art's gonna be around is weirdly reassuring."

"oh, he loves him."

"jesus christ," you groan jokingly, "i should've let art knock me up instead."

patrick stares blankly for a couple seconds, then forces this pitiful, gritted laugh, averting eye contact and looking back down at your baby. it's silent, you finishing your tea and patrick rocking him until he falls asleep. he speaks again, "wanna help me put him to bed?"

"yeah. of course."

you walk into the nursery. the last time you saw it -- there's no way you're not seeing what patrick zweig keeps your baby in over summers and breaks --, it was cute and decorated, but now, it's filled. it looks like patrick's spent every single day at toy and furniture and decor stores. there's a mural on the baby blue walls of an ocean. "oh, this is adorable."

"mhm." patrick sets him in the crib and gently swoops the downy patch of hair off his forehead. "i think he's knocked out."

"puppy tummy."

he looks at you, confused.

you explain, "like, when puppies drink a lot of milk, their bellies get full and they sleep a lot."

"that's cute." when he says it, he's still looking at you. that's cute. no, you're cute.

you're weak, too. so weak for that lopsided smile that's slowly creeping onto his face. the second he sees your blush, you know it's over. he's found an opening, and he's gonna take it.

you clamber into his bedroom, the house big enough for you to lack subtlety, and he pulls your sweater over your head and gropes your tits through your bra. "they're so much bigger now -- "

"fuck off -- " you're sitting on top of his lap, feverishly unbuttoning his shirt. knowing your son, he could wake up any second.

"i didn't say i don't like them normally," he grumbles, thumbing your hard nipples. "just making an observation." he flicks one.

you hiss, "fuck you -- "

"you're being a bitch."

"are you gonna take your dick out or not?"

"i want you to ask for it." patrick holds your wrists and grins, expectantly looking up at you. "say please."

"no." you don't bother with fighting his grip. he's much stronger than you, even if you two are equally stubborn.

"then we're not fucking."

"then we're not fucking, patrick."

the mental image you plant settles stronger than his empty threat, and his desperation wins out. he untucks his cock through his pants, and it's the same as you remember it: hairy, thick, and lengthy, a hot mouthful. you wonder if he tastes the same. musky, sweaty.

"do you have a condom?"

he doesn't hide his disappointment and sulks, "yeah. nightstand."

you huff then reach to the top drawer, pawing through a playboy, a playgirl (honestly, you didn't not expect that), and gum wrappers before you find a condom in the back corner. "do you want another one?"

"would it be so terrible?"

you don't answer that. he sounds too sad.

after finding the condom, you set it on top of the drawer and let patrick prep you, his hands crawling up your skirt to spread your legs. where you sit, his cock's sheathed under your panties and through your ass cheeks, while his pants press your pussy. you're undone from his fingers, moaning into his neck, teething on his ear. it's relieving to not have to explain what you like to get a good lay. patrick already knows.

"you're so wet," he grunts, and he's right -- you're so soaked his fingers' thrusts sound squishy. he rubs the textrous part inside of you, and you quiver, hands bracing on his shoulders as your cunt tightens. "mmm -- you could stay here all fucking hanukkah, let me feed you, buy you fucking presents, eat this pretty pussy every morning -- you know my family loves you, they'd love you being here -- they think i need to cuff you fucking yesterday --"

he skims his thumb's knuckle over your clit, and you're cumming, legs too splayed around his lap to close, so you're embarrassingly pried open, your cunt clenching. you whine in his ear, broken, high-pitched. "pat -- oh, fuck, pat -- " he keeps his fingers working until you start squirming, the grind of your ass on his cock becoming too much.

with your panties pulled to the side, his condomed cock slips in easily, and when it does, he moans louder than you, his hands hard on your ass, fingertips a bruising brute force. not on purpose. he just can't help himself when it's you. "jesus christ, missed your pussy so fucking much." you're pliant, so he starts thrusting right away. the force sends you leaning into his chest. his dick slaps against your ass every time he sinks in. "other guys don't fuck you like me, do they?"

you say nothing, but you whimper, burying your face into his neck.

you expect it when he pulls your hair. not hard, just enough to make you look at him. "do they?" he slows to hard, pumping thrusts, like he's milking your cunt.

"they don't," you moan, head lolling against his tug. "they don't -- god, just fuck me, pat, fuck me -- please -- "

he does, releasing your hair. after pounding you raw, he cums with a long, husky moan, eyes rolling, the back of his head against his headboard. the condom fills with cum, and you feel its barrier swelling with warmth every time your pussy twitches.

you pull off and lay beside him for a second, catching your breath. your panties are too wet to keep wearing, so you strip them off, kicking them somewhere in the room. when you open your eyes, you see patrick looking at you.

"i was thinking -- "

"you do that?"

"never mind," he laughs, pushing his sweaty curls off his forehead. "... you did end up saying please."

"alright, i'm leaving." his ego's practically pushing you out of the room. when you stand, pulling your sweater over your head, you realize you can't see your panties through the utter man of his room, messy and disorganized. they're dark, too. you groan.

"what?"

"nothing. i just -- look, i -- my family's doing, like -- a thing today, so i have to go." they're not. you just need out of there.

after you leave, patrick's scrambling for your panties. he took note of where they landed.

[shootingstar-scuderia]

okay for your celebration: how about 🦋 7 minutes in heaven- goodnight kisses with max?? congrats again babes!! -lee

thank you thank you thank you lee 😭😭😭 this was lowkey inspired by random conversation i had with one of my best friends so it was so much fun to write even it if took me ages

You’re lying in bed scrolling on Twitter when Max comes out of the shower, his towel low slung on his hips, exposing the pale skin of his tummy. It makes your mouth water and you fight your way out of your blanket cocoon just so you can see a little more of him as he gets ready for bed.

“What is it?” He asks as he pulls on a shirt.

You let out a little hmph at that, “what makes you think I need anything?”

Max fixes you with a stare and you deflate, flopping back down into the blankets. “Do you think Lando sleeps with his blankets tucked up to his chin?”

“Huh?”

“I saw a tweet.”

Max sideyes and maybe you shouldn’t have been on Twitter, F1 twitter especially, but that tweet was gonna end up screenshotted on Instagram. So really, you were going to see it anyway. 

Plus you were bored, so what did Max expect you to do? He was the one who wouldn’t let you get into the shower with him, saying that the “not wasting water” line doesn’t work when one party involved has already taken a shower. So he really should be the one to blame..

“What? I’m just curious.”

“Who even thinks of this stuff?” He grumbles, “why are you thinking about what Lando does in bed.”

“Wha-”

He steamrolls right over your words, “I can’t believe you’re thinking of Lando while you are in our bed.”

“Well when you say it like that-”

“Our fucking marital bed.” He’s so put out by it that as he says it his face scrunches up and his lips peel back into a look of fond annoyance that you see so often. 

“Is that all you’re getting from this conversation?” He looks so exasperated that you can barely get your words out through your laughs, “it’s not like I’m thinking about him while we’re having sex!” 

“God, don’t say that. Why would you even-” Max breaks off in a huff and skulks out of the room ignoring your laughs and siren pleas to come to bed.

He’s sour about it for the rest of the night. Slamming open the bathroom door a little too loudly when he goes to brush his teeth and being more than usually snippy while talking to the cats as he checks to make sure the apartment door is bolted.

You very pointedly do not open your eyes when you hear Max enter the bedroom. Instead choosing to wiggle further into the blankets and curl into the empty space in the middle of the bed you share. 

Your marital bed. What a dork.

Max turns off the light and you hear some shuffling as he makes his way to the bed and then fumbles around for the lamp switch and the familiar sink of the bed when he crawls under the covers. He scoots himself down, dragging his pillow with him until he’s got you tucked squarely into him.

Max pokes your side, “I know you’re not sleeping.”

You sniff and keep your eyes closed, “well I’m trying very hard to only think about you while lying in bed. It takes a lot of focus.”

He sighs and presses a kiss to your forehead, nose brushing your hairline, “the least you could do is give me a goodnight kiss.”

You open your eyes at that. “You’ll always get a good night kiss baby.”

Max tilts your head up so his lips brush against yours, “you wanna make good on that promise?”

It makes your heart squeeze, as if he even has to ask. 

You press your lips to his and feel the warmth of him settle into your bones as you chase the taste of his lips. He’s so warm and soft that by the time the two of you pull away, with your eyes half lidded and the taste of him in your mouth, you feel like you’re on the verge of sleep already.

You kiss him one more time for good measure before snuggling down into the blankets.

“Goodnight Max.”

It's silent, bar some rustling as Max gets comfortable and moves to turn off the light, then a gentle, “goodnight schatje” and then, you’re out like a light.

[dira333]

Cupid on a mission - Sugawara x Reader

Featuring: @screamin-abt-haikyuu x Asahi and @6okuto x Akaashi

Tagging: @lees-chaotic-brain can you spot the fic exchange I put in here?

"Whatever you can do, I can do better," you say, chewing at the straw of your drink as you flutter your eyelashes up at Sugawara and Sawamura.

Daichi groans. “Don’t start,” he mutters under his breath, but Koushi’s already leaning in, teasing smirk dancing on his lips.

“Oh? You think you’re better than me? Please.”

“Tanaka and Kiyoko? That was me,” you beam, pointing at yourself with your thumb. “What do you have to show for yourself?”

“Going to Nationals?” Daichi asks only to raise his hands when both you and Koushi turn to send him an unimpressed glare.

“Listen, hotshot,” Koushi’s putting an arm around your shoulders as he speaks. With anyone else, you might think he’s trying to flirt, but this is Koushi. You’d know if he flirted with you.

“Why do you think Kageyama is the favorite Volleyball player in all Karasuno? Among the girls, at least.”

You furrow your brows and pout. “That’s not that hard. You’re working with a quiet canvas here. As long as he doesn’t try to smile, he’s pretty good-looking.”

“You want something ha-”

“Asahi,” Daichi interrupts, “You could try and set up Asahi.”

You turn toward him and Koushi follows, his arm still snug around you. He’s wearing one of those ridiculous cardigans today that make him look like the sweetest little librarian ever, although you’ve learned to fear the prankster behind the facade. It’s also ridiculously soft and you want to curl into it, not that you’d ever try.

“With whom?” Koushi asks, one step behind you. You’ve had your eyes set on a particular pair for a while now, but Asahi is already anxious enough. You don’t want to give him a heart attack.

“I think he has a crush on-”

“Already ahead of you,” you interrupt Daichi and pat Koushi’s hand, slipping out of his grasp. “Watch and learn, young Padawan.”

You feel his eyes on you as you walk on, slip through the open door from the kitchen into the living room, where Nishinoya has challenged Hinata to a dance battle. 

It’s not that hard to spot Asahi when you know what you’re looking for. A quiet spot, away from the spotlight, but where he can keep an eye on either Nishinoya or… ah, there she is.

Zaira’s chatting with Yachi and Kiyoko, wearing a cardigan not unlike Koushi- whelp, no time to think about him, you’ve got work to do.

“Hey,” you greet your friend with a smile, “Sorry, I got distracted. Daichi brought his mother’s Pizza Pockets. Can you play along for a moment?”

“Play along?” Zaira asks, a little confused, but takes your hand. 

“Sorry,” you say to both Yachi and Kiyoko, “I gotta steal her for a second. I’ve got something to prove.”

Yachi’s mouth is hanging open - but Kiyoko just grins, probably because she’s already figured out what this is all about. She knows the Third-Years better than anyone else.

“Where are we going?” Zaira asks as you make your way through the room toward the door to the backyard.

“Asahi, Hi!” You smile, “Wanna come along, get some fresh air?”

He blushes, but nods, eyes flickering between you and Zaira as he steps out into the chill of the evening.

“Oh,” you say as if you’ve forgotten something, “Could you hold this for me, Asahi?”

You look into his eyes and drop Zaira’s hand, small and warm, into his.

His hand closes around hers and they follow along for a few steps until it registers.

Asahi’s face bursts into flames and Zaira stutters like the fool in love that she is. 

“It’s really nice outside, don’t you think?” You say, walking toward the trees in the back where the leaves have turned red and gold. From the corner of your eye, you can see that they’re still holding hands, looking in opposite directions, unable to speak.

And behind them, illuminated by the lights in the house, Koushi’s leaning in the doorframe, arms crossed over his chest. He looks cozy and warm and like he might admit that he’s lost this bet.

“I’m sorry,” Zaira rips her hand out of Asahi’s grasp at that moment, ruining your little fantasy of rubbing your win into Koushi’s face. “I didn’t- that wasn’t- I didn’t…”

Asahi’s staring at his hand, completely missing the look of betrayal Zaira throws you as she storms away.

“Why did you do that?” Asahi asks, his voice strangely broken. He blinks at you. 

“I…” 

“Because she knows that you like Zaira,” Koushi announces, stepping closer. “And she’s not above using steamroller tactics to get you two together.”

“But I don’t want that-” Asahi croaks and Koushi has the audacity to wink at you as he wraps an arm around his friend. “I know, I know. Come on, let’s get inside and we’ll talk about it. I do have an idea…”

-

“Koushi’s still in bed,” his mother announces when you show up at his house the next morning. 

It worries you a little that she’s not the least bit concerned about you barging in on her son. Has she too already picked up on the fact that Koushi’s not into you? But who could he be into? Yachi? No, she’s too timid. 

You’re still debating that question when you hammer your fist against his door, wait one second, and then burst through.

Koushi blinks at you, shirtless, hair a mess, with a crease on his cheek from the pillow.

“Am I dreaming?” He asks, voice raspy from sleep.

You stare at him, speechless for a good minute before you catch yourself.

“I need to know what you told Asahi last night.”

“Mhm,” he hums low in his throat, curling into his blanket again. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“I do.” You step closer. 

His room is unusually tidy for a guy his age, not that you don’t know that already. You’ve spent more than enough hours in here, studying for exams. 

On the chair by his desk rests a jacket that looks oddly familiar.

“Is that mine?” You ask, walking over. 

“What?”

“The jacket.”

“I think so. You left it here last time you came over.”

“And you didn’t give it back to me?”

“I was going to, but I forgot about it,” he waves it off like it’s nothing.

“We see each other every day in school and you forget about it?”

“I had other things on my mind.”

“Like what?”

“Graduating, for example?”

You press your lips together. You can’t argue against that.

“What did you say to Asahi, Koushi? Are you sabotaging my plan of getting them together just so you can pretend you’re better than me?”

“I am better than you. At least at this game.”

“Please,” you scoff. “Name one couple you made happen?”

He smiles, clearly pleased that you asked.

“Oh, gladly,” he slips out of bed, grinning when your eyes immediately shoot to his face. It wouldn’t be the first time you saw him in just his boxers, but the last time happened so long ago, it doesn’t really count.

“Takeda-Sensei and the cute Journalist.”

You scoff. “That was too easy. She was basically throwing herself at him.”

“Coach Ukai and his childhood friend.”

You bite down on your tongue. That one was a hard one, you had to give him that.

“Fine, that one was good,” you begrudgingly give in, “But so was-”

“Ah,” he grins, holding up one hand. He’s halfway in his pants and you roll your eyes as you wait for him to continue. 

“Akaashi and that girl that went to Nekoma… what was her name again?” 

“Nia. And it doesn’t really count if you don’t even know her name.”

“Please, they both needed that push.”

“Still-” He interrupts you again.

“And there’s that really cute couple… ah, no, I can’t tell you about that yet.”

“Yet? What does that mean? Who are you- Koushi! Are you planning on setting someone up? Who?”

“Not telling,” he smirks and pretends to close his mouth and throw away the key.

“You’re a menace.”

“You love it.”  You grimace behind his back. He’s right, but you’d rather die than admit it.

-

“Where are we going?” You ask half an hour later when he steps out of the bathroom, hair now just as messy, but in a different way. You wanna drag your hands through it, but you’d rather chew off your fingers one by one than admit that.

“Follow Asahi around as he confesses his feelings to Zaira.”

“What?” You’re on your feet in a heartbeat. “When? Why? How did you manage-?”

“I told you,” he preens, “I am better at this than you.”

“You’re not.”

“Am too. Mom, we’re going out.”

“Okay, stay safe you too.” She pops her head around the kitchen door. “And come over more often. It’s nice having you here.”

“Oh, erm, yes, thank you,” you stammer. This invite might have been cute when you were kids, but now it just feels weird. 

-

“Why are you staring at me?” You ask Koushi. You don’t know where you’re going and he’s refusing to tell you, but that doesn’t mean you won’t notice if he keeps looking at your face for over five minutes. If he’d been anyone else you might have thought he’d finally noticed your beauty or found some hidden feelings for you in the back of his ink-black heart. But this is Koushi, and you know to expect the worst.

“Nothing, just… are your eyebrows uneven?”

“They’re not!” You exclaim on instinct, though grabbing your phone to check. 

“Take a picture,” Koushi orders, and the tone in his voice has you follow through, starting the timer. Usually, when his voice sounds like this, something fun is going to happen.

He leans in, face serious, so you keep yours similar. Then, right when the countdown runs out, he presses his lips to your cheek.

Your heart lurches into your throat and you have half your mind to turn your phone away, not yet ready to examine the face you made.

“What was that about?” You all but whisper-yell, trying to be conscious of the people riding the train with you even though your heart wants to lurch out of your chest and slap him in the face.

Koushi grins and rests his head on your shoulder. “Not telling,” he hums low and even though you try to push him off, he’s staying exactly where he is. A menace, clearly.

-

There is no sight of Asahi whatsoever.

“We’re pretty early,” Koushi guides you toward a coffee shop, the colorful pastries literally screaming at you to get one. “Let’s get breakfast first.”

“I just had breakfast.”

“And now you’ll have it again. You still drink Chai Latte?”

“Yeah, but-”

“Let me guess, the lemon pie?” He points at an adorable little creation, the yellow color brightening your mood just by being in your field of vision. You pout.

“I don’t like it when you know me that well.”

“Sorry, not sorry. What do I like? You know that?”

“Of course,” you boast, “I’ve been forced to be around you for far too long not to know that. You like everything spicy, so I’d get the chocolate chilli parfait for you. And you’re a wuss, so you drink Hot Chocolate.”

“I do drink Hot Chocolate,” he confirms with a smile, “but I think I’d prefer something sweet today.”

“Ah,” you cock your head to the side to look him up and down. “That doesn’t sound like you.”

“Well, but it is me. - Yes, we’d like one Chai Latte, one Hot Chocolate, the Lemon Pie and the Unicorn Roll please.”

“The Unicorn Roll?” You ask him, voice dropped low. 

He smiles in a way that leads all attention back to that awful mole next to his eye. It looks like it’s winking at you.

“Yes, The Unicorn Roll.”

It’s a monstrosity of cream and marshmallows, decorated in colorful sprinkles and topped with a tuft of rainbow cotton candy. You’ve wanted to try it ever since it came into fashion, but just looking at it has your teeth hurt and you can never betray your loyalty to everything lemon flavored anyway.

But looking at it now, sitting in front of Koushi as if it’s just a normal dessert, it wipes everything Asahi out of your brain.

It almost makes you miss the fact that Koushi’s paying.

“I can pay for myself,” you insist, a little too late, but he’s already pushing you forward, a warm hand at the small of your back.

“Can I try yours?” Koushi asks and you’re still a little out of it, pushing your plate toward his.

“You wanna try mine?”

“I- yes…” You blink, before digging your fork in, taking out the left eye of the poor little Unicorn.

“I don’t think this qualifies as breakfast,” you groan once your mouth is empty again, thinking fast how you could possibly get another forkful of this delicacy.

“Doesn’t matter though, right?” Koushi digs his fork into your lemon pie and you take that as an invitation to take out the right eye as well.

-

“You know…” you ask between bites, now taking freely from both plates, “I apologized to Zaira. I said I was sure Asahi was going to confess now, and that I’d give him a little push. I still need to know what you told him so I don’t lose a friend as well.”

“Mhm…” He puckers his lips as he’s thinking, now slightly tinted pink by the cotton candy. “I suppose I could tell you.”

“I suppose you could.”

“I told him I’d confess my feelings if he’d confess his.”

Your fork drops loudly onto the table and you almost toss your cup off it as you try to grab it, trying to look as if you didn’t care about his words at all.

“Pretty… uh, pretty bold of you, don’t you think?”

“Well, not really. I’m pretty confident she feels the same way.”

“Oh, but does Asahi know that too?”

“Well, yes. He said it wasn’t a fair exchange, but he’d still try.”

“And how is he going to do it?” You ask, hand curled around your fork in a tight fist. You don’t want to talk about Koushi confessing. Asahi confessing is a much safer topic.

Koushi checks his phone. “He’s doing it right now. He’s meeting up with Zaira at that little park across from her house.”

Your mouth falls open.

“At the park?”

“Obviously,” Koushi smiles, eyes twinkling. “Do you think he’d confess in the open? Where all the people can see him? No way.”

“But… but why are we here then?”

Koushi’s smile changes to something softer and your heart lurches, slipping into your throat. Breathing is suddenly impossible.

You need to get out of here, fast.

“I need to go,” you manage to push out, grabbing your bag from beneath the table.

You don’t look back, but all the way down the street you don’t hear him follow you. 

Well… it’s settled then. You’ll have to move to Tokyo. 

No way you can show your face again after booking it out of there like this.

Now he’s surely going to think you like him.

-

The swings are vacant, the ground covered in leaves.

You pull your phone out of your bag, not surprised to find a flurry of messages from Zaira, each one of them more ecstatic.

And even though you gave them a push, it’s pretty clear that you’re not the one responsible for her happiness. At least not this time.

“Chai Latte, slightly chilled for the Miss?” A voice asks behind you.

“I’m not in the mood for jokes,” you tell him, not surprised when he still settles on the swing beside you.

“No jokes, I promise.”

You huff, but accept the paper cup of Chai Latte, sipping it instead of looking at him.

For a while no one says anything.

“If you’d confessed first, I’d have won a bet,” Koushi announces eventually, making you halt your movement to turn to him.

“You bet on me confessing to you?”

“First. I bet on you confessing first.”

“With who?”

“My mom,” he admits, blushing slightly. “She called me out on my crush during Junior High.”

Your jaw falls open. “That was when you used to pull on my hair!”

“It looked really cute!” Koushi defends himself. “And you always got all huffy and paid me more attention than anyone else.”

“That’s disturbing.”

“It’s honest. But I… I really like you. And you are better than me in some things. Not all things, but some things.”

You purse your lips. “For example?”

Koushi smiles. “Wouldn’t you like to know? I’m better at kissing though.”

“Prove it,” you hiss and his smile turns into a grin.

“Gladly.”

-

-x-

Dread’s creeping up your spine. 

“Oh no,” you announce to the table, interrupting Yachi and Zaira’s quiet conversation. “Koushi’s getting bored.”

“How can you tell?” Yachi asks.

“Can’t you?” You ask, just as the door opens.

“Baby?” Koushi asks, dragging the syllables, “You’ve not paid me any attention for at least fifteen minutes, that can’t be healthy.”

“You’re a big baby.”

“And you love me. What does that say about you?”

“That I have no taste?”

“No, you have a lot of taste.” He grins, propping his head on your shoulder and squinting down at the table. “Oh, I like that color for your nails. I saw some shoes that would fit really well the other day.”

“We cannot buy another pair of shoes.”

“Mhm, we cannot, but I can.”

You huff and roll your eyes. “You’ll never save money that way.”

He grins and presses a kiss to your cheek. 

“Girls,” he addresses your friends then, “I have to take her away for a minute or two. Important business, you understand. Zaira, Asahi’s in the kitchen. You should join him, maybe, because Tanaka’s trying to talk him into cutting his hair. Oh and Yachi, Tsukishima is-”

“Tsukishima is being annoying?” You interrupt your boyfriend, sending him a glare. He will not ruin your plans for Yachi. “We already know that. You can stay here if you want, I’ll be back shortly.”

“Mhm, not if I have anything to say in that matter,” Koushi announces, dragging you out of the room. The giggling of your friends follows you, but you don’t really think too much about it.

There are other things on your mind. 

Koushi’s hand in yours, or the smile he’s throwing at you, or the fact that he’s not pulling you into the living room or an empty bedroom, but outside, where it’s freezing..

You might love him, but you’ll shove his face into the snow for that.

[onegirlmanytales]

Brain Gremlins

Pairing: Eddie Munson x reader

Summary: Sometimes your own brain can be cruel to you. But at you least you have Eddie to threaten those pesky brain gremlins.

Contains: comfort, alluded to suicidal ideation

Word count: 761

A/N: been debating if I wanted to post this one. Figured I would just in case anyone else needed some comfort. If you saw me post this before, no you didn’t.

“What are you thinking about?” Eddie asked, turning his body over to you and resting his head on his hand.

“Nothing,” you replied quickly with a shake of your head. You always hoped that would be enough to quell his curious mind, but it never was. If it was, he wouldn't be your Eddie.

“Nothing?” He continued to prod, poking at your side as you squirmed slightly away from him. “That head of yours is just totally blank? No thoughts at all? Just an endless void of nothingness?”

You just shrugged, not meeting his eyes as you continued to stare at the ceiling above the two of you. You knew if you told him the truth that it would only worry him and you didn’t want that. You thought it was better to lie. Better if he didn’t know the cruel thoughts your brain gave to you. He always wanted to take care of you. You knew it was because he loved you but sometimes, like on nights like this one, it felt like loving you was too much work. Work no one should be burdened with.

He moved closer to you, so close until his face was just inches from yours. But you kept your eyes on the ceiling. “You’re a bad liar,” he whispered. His hand came to rest on your stomach, thumb rubbing soothing circles into it through the fabric of your shirt.

“It’s nothing,” you moved his hand off of you and scooched away from him. He frowned but you turned your head to give him a soft smile in hopes of dismissing his growing worry. “I’m just tired. I’m gonna try to sleep” you set your book down on the nightstand and turned the lamp off, then pulled the covers over you before kissing his cheek and turning away from him. “Night.”

He stared at the back of your head and you could feel his eyes on you. You could feel that worry that you were trying to adamantly avoid was radiating off of him. Your eyes squeezed shut tight as you tried to will away the heavy sinking feeling in your chest, as you tried to will away your cruel thoughts. Tears brimmed at your waterline and you were glad he couldn’t see you with your back facing him. You felt the bed shift as he wrapped his body around yours.

“I know it’s selfish,” he whispered into your ear. You squeezed your eyes tighter as the tears began to escape. He continued, “but I’m not sure I’d want to live without you.”

“You’d move on,” your voice cracked and he squeezed you tighter.

“No, I don’t think I ever would. I think I’d miss you too much.”

“I’m not—“ you sighed shakily before continuing, grabbing his hand and giving it a slight squeeze. “I’m not going to, I'm just…thinking about it.”

“Do you need me to tell the brain gremlins to leave you alone?” He offered, making you laugh wetly. You wiped at the tears and turned over to face him. “Would you?” You asked and he nodded with a gentle smile.

He leaned forward, lips just barely touching your forehead before whispering, “Hey you gremlin fucks,” when you laughed you could feel his smile against your skin. “Leave them alone. I need them to stay with me. Got it? Or I’ll come in there and beat all you stupid bastards up. They're mine, you can’t have them.” You swore for a moment you heard his voice waver as he spoke. He pressed his lips to you then, sealing his words with a kiss as you squeezed him in a hug.

“Thank you,” you said softly.

“You know, you can always tell me when they start to bother you. I make an excellent distraction.”

You looked up at him as a few more stray tears fell, he wiped them away and touched his forehead to yours.

“I think I’d miss you too much too,” you smiled sadly at him.

He pulled you flush to him and held onto you tightly, like he was afraid you’d slip away. He listened closely to the sound of your breathing until it slowed as you fell into slumber. He kept listening to it as his own eyes grew tired and he allowed your gentle breaths to lull him to sleep.

You both knew the brain gremlins would return someday. They always did, and when they did Eddie would help you fight them off. Just as he did every other time. But at least for tonight, they were quieted.

Thank you for reading ♥️

I do not give permission to have my work copied, translated, reposted on any platform, or put into any AI programs.

Gia’s Gems: @bettyfrommars @ali-r3n @devilinthepalemoonlite @spenciesprincess @belladonnaa-0

@allthingsjoeq @etherealxwitch @siriuslysmoking @thereaderdelilah @steves-babysitter

@livosssblog @kennedy-brooke @hobopies @starksbabie @lavendermunson

@jamdoughnutmagician @paybacksawitch @keeksandgigz

Munson’s Maniacs: @aingealbites @darkyuffie-blog @mrsjellymunson @eddiesguitarskills

[angelofsmalldeaath]

Hi!! I hope you’re doing well love! 🥰 just imagine staying in with Andrew and cuddling all day with him playing with your hair. Little kisses happen here and there, but nothing too steamy. Just laying with each other perfectly content.

sorry i've been gone for so long but i have some free time today. it rained all day and this request is speaking to me very much haha because i would have loved to spend the whole day in bed (with andrew) alas... there is work

cw: sappy as always!!!

“do you think we could have one day utterly undisturbed?” he poses the question as soon as he’s awake. well, alert at least. beside him, i turn, still half-asleep, and bury my face in his chest. 

he’s sleep-warm and soft, yet to move and disturb our perfect little cocoon. 

“i am not the famous one here,” i snicker and feel him exhale. 

his fingers trail up my arm. it’s not intentional, i realise, he’s deep in thought. if i were to open my eyes (a herculean task) and look up at him right now, i’d see that all-too-familiar expression on his face—brows pinched, lip caught between his teeth, eyes faraway. 

“darling boy—”

“we should have a day,” he interrupts, and i crack an eye open, coming face to face with his white t-shirt. “to ourselves, i mean. you and me.”

“and your phone callls?”

“i’ll turn it off!”

“would you?” i smile at him lazily, finally open my eyes too. 

he looks exactly as i’d predicted, with the addition of soft sunlight on his face, lightening his green eyes some more. the red in his hair looks gorgeous like this—messy and unkempt. without much thought, i thread my fingers through it. he closes his eyes and smiles. 

“for you?”

“no,” i thumb over the crinkles around his eyes, “for you.”

he wrinkles his nose, like a child being told to finish his vegetables. “things feel better when i do them for you.”

“alright, then,” i relent and continue threading my fingers through his hair. it’s a languid movement, and yet he leans into it. “would you turn it off for me?”

“but it’s all the way over there!” he almost whines, pointing somewhere behind his back, at his phone that’s barely a foot away. 

i laugh. “and if it rings?”

“you have my full permission to chuck it out the window,” he declares, pulling me closer until we are one tangled entity, limbs intertwined—his leg between mine and my face tucked in the crook of his neck and his chin on top of my head. 

“what should we do then?” i giggle. it’s funny how much he doesn’t want to get out bed today, not to make coffee or use the loo, not to get a book to read and pass the time, not even to think about having breakfast. i let it be. it’s not often we have this. 

“stay like this?”

“for how long?”

“hmmm,” the vibrations from his voice pass through my whole body and send tingles down my spine, “the entire day maybe, the night too. i don’t know, forever.”

sluggishly he shifts, until his hand is right by my head, fingers weaving through my hair. it’s gentle, tender, so much so that i feel sleep coming over me once again, but i strain my eyes and stay awake. 

“i could get behind that,” i speak into his chest, voice muffled. a moment later, he tilts my chin up for a kiss—featherlight, barely-there, and yet it leaves goosebumps in its wake.

it doesn’t go unnoticed either. a moment later, he lets go of my lips and trails kisses up my arm—sweet, chaste kisses that somehow do the opposite of what he intends. or perhaps this is exactly what he intends. 

“and what happens when we get hungry, hmm?”

“is my love not enough for you?!” he grumbles and i snort, unable to keep it in at his exasperated tone. it takes more effort than i’m happy with, but when i kiss his nose in response, he smiles again. 

we stay quiet after that—maybe for a minute, maybe for an hour—but when i open my eyes, he’s already staring at me. 

“hi,” i giggle.

“hi,” he copies my tone. 

i feel a little shy then. there’s no reason for it. we have done this before—stolen mornings and tiny moments rescued from the clutches of busy afternoons, swamped evenings that still somehow hold pockets of quiet for the two of us—but he’s right here now, holding me so close like he never intends on letting go. 

i hope he doesn’t.

“sounds like a good day in my head,” i confess in a whispered voice, “to be here with you and do nothing.”

he nods and kisses me again, a little longer this time, a little more fierce. “sounds perfect to me too.”

[gale-dekarios]

Favorite thing about Gale Dekarios?

it's embarrassing how long i spent sitting with this trying to think about my all time favourite thing about gale, because there's so much. i like that he's a dork, and sickeningly sincere, and i like that he's a cook, that he loves his not-a-cat, and that all he'd need to complete the ultimate wizard stereotype is a pointy hat and long grey beard.

but when it all boils down to it, i love that he's willing to try, after all of it. he, out of all the companions, probably fucked up the most. and i dont necessarily mean hes in the most fucked up position, i dont think you can really compare what the companions are going through as individuals like that, what i mean is that to go from the lover of mystra, an archmage, quite possibly one of the most powerful people in the sword coast if not the whole of toril, to a dude you have to pull out of a malfunctioning portal, an embarrassing footnote in a goddess's history, about to die, from the orb, or ceremorphosis, or just generally being out in the wilderness as a level one wizard likely for the first time in his life ever, well, it's a lot isn't it?

the only person who could come close to understanding that level of a drop is perhaps wyll, but then again, wyll didn't so much as fall as he took a leap that he knew would end poorly for him, not to mention that wyll was seventeen. not that he'd likely make another choice now that he's older bc he's wyll, but gale, at least from his perspective, can't hide behind the greater good, or youth, from what he did.

gale's at rock bottom, and he doesn't have karlach's cheer to make up for the fact that he's dying, tadpole or no.

there's no way i would be able to keep going after all of that. id find a large field in the middle of nowhere and wait until the end comes for me. but gale doesn't. he keeps going, even though he's pretty sure he's going to die and it's all futile anyway, he keeps going. and he makes connections, despite the fact it could all be snuffed out in an instant. he goes through what's possibly the world's most messiest break up, one that quite literally is going to kill him, and yet when he's told he can redeem himself, to make the embarrassing footnote into a noble one, all it takes is you asking him to live for him to throw all of that aside, his entire past, everything he ever worked for, for the idea of a future that might not ever come. and he doesn't even need to be in love with you for him to agree to that.

he wants to live anyway. no matter how much more difficult is. no matter how unsure he is that he's actually got anything to go back to. he has a tara, and wine, and food, and books, and quite possibly the weirdest band of people he's ever met, and he decides THAT'S enough. sure, the ideas of something greater never fully leave the edge of his psyche, but again, if you ask him to, if you show him life's worth living, he'll then give up actual godhood just so he can keep tara curled in his lap, the taste of good food and wine in his mouth, the feeling of paper under his fingertips, and a room full of love and laughter, in whatever capacity that may be.

it's hard to condense all of that into one word, into one attribute, so i guess what i'm trying to say is that my favourite thing about gale is that he's alive.

[glitterjay]

Can u please please please write gynaecologist!jay x fem reader?

⭒ gynecologist!jay, acquaintances, masturbation (f. receiving), short, suggestive content implied (not graphic) minors dni

⭒ c's note: yall be liking the idea of gynecologist i see

⭒ taglist (open): @hollyoongs @fertilizedtoesw

dating apps were definitely something out of your comfort zone, but you had fun scrolling through the amount of people nonetheless. you had met a man that went by the name of jay, who turned out to be a gynecologist in the clinic one of your friends went to, so you paid him visits from time to time when you accompanied her to get checked up.

the encounters didnt go as far as jay getting out of his office to greet you and talk with you as long as he could before having to go back inside. they were simple but cute encounter to you. outside of work, you'd hang out from time to time to talk and get to know each other, since you were only acquaintances still.

-

today was just another normal check up for your friend, which meant you could stick along to see jay. she was used to it by now, and didnt ask further question, letting you live your life. either way, there wasnt much going on that you could gossip to her anyway.

as you arrived, you parted ways to wait in the small waiting room that was near jay's check up office. the kind lady in the desk had grown to know you, and said she's check if jay was free for you and that she would call him to come out.

it was strange to feel this fuzzy so early, but the way those around jay knew about you because of him made you happy. the lady called your attention as soon as she was done talking, saying jay had quite the free schedule today, and that you could actually go inside his office today.

it was exciting to say the least, since you felt like everything was moving right. the progress was slow but steady, and he was a handsome and gentle man. there was nothing that could go wrong.

-

you knocked gently on the door, to which jay replied with a simple "come in!"

the office was clean and well organized, just as you expected. his aura was that of an expensive man, but he was extremely humble and caring. his smile was the sweetest thing you had ever seen. but his kind persona wasnt all there was to jay. his physique was extraordinary. his shoulders were broad, his waist was small, you could tell he had abs through the thin shirts he's wear during your hang outs, and his uniform hugged his body just right.

you tried to contain every thought crossing your mind as you sat in front of his desk as if you were a patient yourself. the talk was normal as always, asking each other how your days had been, and what you would do the next time you hung out together.

it was all okay until you noticed how hard he was staring at you. his eyes glancing up and down, scanning your entire body. how he leaned in resting his elbows on the desk, eyes fixed on you as he licked his lips.

the tension was starting to fall on both of you, with jay holing every moral left in him to not jump on you and devour you whole, and with you crossing your legs for some type of movement and friction. trying to shift the current situation, you had asked jay if he had eaten yet, to which he shook his head.

"i could have a meal right here right now, though."

© glitterjay | tumblr

[l0vergirlatheart]

⚝ roses protrude from the sidewalk like my love seeping out of the cracks of my once cold skin

sculptor!reader x caelus, sampo, argenti (separate) your creations suddenly escape from the clay that encased them, and they seem to know you're the one who made them oh-so-perfectly. ⚝ = dark content. cw yan-ish and religious-esc themes. "creator, god, divine," etc. playing... YABABAINA by SatapanP div. from @/cafekitsune

YOU just finished sculpting one of your favorite creations. Placing your brush down after just completing varnishing it, you decide it's finally time to take a break while you await the final layer to dry, unaware of how their eyes had now shifted to your now seated form.

At least, not until you heard something begin to crack. You look up, thinking maybe the wind knocked something over? Had one of their props fell off and you needed to re-do it? But when you glanced over at them, chunks of dried clay were breaking off of their figure, revealing a rather human-like appearance beneath them.

You shot up immediately, knocking over the water cup that held your brush, but you paid it no mind as you watched your creation in shock. You wondered if you were hallucinating, even. But you were suddenly aware of the feeling of the dried paint that was on your hands, the way your breathing grew labored, and the way your heart beat faster in your chest.

CAELUS 326 words HE DIDN'T MEAN TO SCARE YOU, he promises. It's at times like this he really wishes he could have anything other than jokes and unserious remarks flowing in those two brain cells of his.

He raises his hands in a sign of peace, meaning no harm as the last of clay falls from his now flesh body while you stare at him, wide-eyed. It's a long while until you get settled with him, and now you suppose it's not horrible to have him around. Sure, he may be straight brainrot and a little stupid sometimes, but honestly? He's gentle in general. Excluding when he's not very aware of his surroundings and swings his bat into one of your toolboxes.

He at least helps you clean everything up, his doings or not.

He thinks you're amazing. You've got the power to create life from clay, and you created him without even realizing it. However, he wishes that you didn't discover it until a little later. Now, you want to create more when he's right there.

His arms snake around you from behind as he leans his head atop wherever he can reach while you're getting your tools in order to create another sculpture - one that'll hopefully come to life just like he did.

"If you don't let go of me," You sigh as you try to pry his tight hold off of you, or at least enough to get your things in order. "I can't make anything at all, for either of us."

"Do you really need another?" He grumbled, almost sounding like a dejected dog as you simply roll your eyes and attempt to shove him off you by his head.

"You're so clingy. Calm down, you're still my first." You state simply, watching as he lights up and smiles at the realization, causing you to just groan. He still hadn't let you go yet.

♫ Thick, splendid, clever, can't stand it, good second generation!

SAMPO 252 words HE DEFINITELY WANTED TO SCARE YOU. Him and his stupid pranks, scaring you from his creation to even now, however, it doesn't mean he's all mischief. He's like, 89% mischief and 11% normal.

He's generally a good person, you could trust him with your life (albeit hesitantly,) but not your wallet. This freak loves money for some reason, and is too good of a liar. His lies never do harm you, however.

How could he harm his lovely creator who introduced him to many things?

You're so intriguing, so powerful that he genuinely can't help but stare at you while you're working, as if you were the sculpture. But don't be fooled, he whines the entire time after you learn of your powers and decide to make another.

"Whaaaat? Psh, no!" Sampo laughs as he directs his eyes away suspiciously, hands behind his back as you stare directly through him. Your arms are crossed over your chest before you sigh and hold one hand out towards him.

"I know you hid my supplies, Sampo." You say as you stare at him, slight annoyance visible on your face as you demanded for them back.

After a bit of bantering, he eventually has to give in. But only in exchange for him basically attaching himself to you for another hour.

(That's a lie, he's stuck to you for the rest of the day. You can't even finish a thing.)

♫ Huh? Huh? Huh? Can't hear anything, nothing at all, never admit a mistake!

ARGENTI 310 words HIS DIVINE GOD, HE TRULY MEANS NO HARM. And it's kind of obvious from the moment he opened his mouth, nothing but praises immediately falling from his lips as you stared at him in a mix of shock and oddity. It was a whiplash effect at first, but the longer you're with him, the more it grows onto you.

He's extremely nice to be around as long as you're okay with hearing him ramble about beauty, how amazing your skills are, how perfect literally anything you have in your home is. It could be the ugliest thing ever and he'd find some way to compliment it. He's a real confidence booster, you'd say.

The only real problem is that he's a real chatterbox. And it's not for the weak.

You're divine to him. Celestial beauty, ethereal looks no matter what angle he looks at you from. You create things almost as lovely as you are, even if you've only just learned of it. He's the few who actually encourage you to create more sculptures. Just don't forget about him, okay?

You're placing down your tools after just finishing the base of your next sculpture when he arrives. He looks a little dejected before he speaks to you, "Have you finished for today?"

You glance back at him before sighing and smiling fondly. You'd pretty much had only seen him in the morning, having been cooped up in your art room the entire rest of the day. "Yes, I am."

He lights up before eagerly beginning to ramble about what he saw today, about how beautiful you and your work-in-progress are, and you just nod along to his words whilst putting your tools away.

It's okay to pack up early for once, right? He's clearly missed you.

♫ If there's only now, isn't there no time to do unpleasant things?

[i-luvsang]

lead the way, lover — jung wooyoung

pairing : wooyoung x gn!reader ➖⟢ genres : fluff, little bit of angst, comfort ➖⟢ cw : mentions of exhaustion and stress, eating+food mention, almost crying, little bit of kissing, poorly edited ➖⟢ wc : 1.3K ➖⟢ rating : pg-13

wooyoung is a lover, through and through. and he feels everything so, so strongly, his love for you especially. that’s why he’s fidgety and restless as his work day comes to an end; he’s practically desperate to get to you, probably still holed up in the corner of a campus library, digging through archives and textbooks as you prepare for your finals.

he’s got food for you in the fridge and he’s paying much more attention to thinking through the steps he’ll go through to get to you than whatever his manager is speaking about. first he’ll call a taxi on the way back to his apartment so that it’ll be ready after he’s grabbed the food. then he’ll try calling you on his way over to your school in the rare case that you pick up. he wants to double check where you are, just in case. then he’ll find you, probably at a run until he’s inside and no longer allowed to, and hug you tight like he knows you need. that’s when he’ll get you to eat, at least a little, and ask what the best thing he can do for you is. then he’ll do that and anything else you ask him.

wooyoung’s love for you makes his worry strong too, and he tries to hide it behind soft jokes and even softer kisses because he knows you don’t like for him to get anxious on your behalf. but he also knows that you need his worry, or more so, his care—the real stem of the worry—because you always melt into his hugs and your shoulders relax a little at his jokes. he tries not to worry too much, because he does everything in his power to help make your heart feel just a little lighter, your load a little easier to carry. you tell him that’s enough, and he holds onto that like it’s keeping him afloat.

you didn’t pick up the phone, so wooyoung heads to your normal spot in the library. even seeing just the back of your head makes him feel a little better as he approaches. he does his best to be gentle, as to not startle you out of your intense focus. he’s proud when it works; the noise of the plastic bag he’s holding is enough warning before he sets it beside you, and you look up at him without jumping a little like you sometimes do. he gives you the warmest, most blindingly bright smile as he swoops down to press a kiss to your lips, and he basks in the small upturn of your mouth when he moves away.

though secretly, his heart sinks a little. he thinks that you are always absolutely stunning, no matter what, but his heart clenches when he takes in just how exhausted you look. but that little bit of light that pops into your eyes at the sight of him is certainly enough to buoy his spirits.

“you brought food?” you ask, torn between tearing into the bag and staying focused on your studies.

“of course i brought food,” he smiles, sitting down and making the decision for you by taking the container out of the bag, opening it up, and handing you utensils. “eat up, baby. the better you feel, the more you can study!” he really wishes that you’d just rest for once, but he knows the best way to get you to put your textbook aside, if at least just for a bit. you take the utensils from his hands and let him push the food closer to you. the satisfaction that wooyoung feels seeing you eat is something so full and complete that it must only be possible because of just how much he loves you like no other.

he fills the air as you eat quietly, going on about his day and the silliest things that happened in practice. he reads you so fast and easy, knowing today’s a day where you can’t bear the silence, where the sound of his hushed voice is familiar and comforting in perfect contrast with the quiet you’ve been soaked in all day.

when you’re finished, you go to pull your textbook and notes back to you, but he lays a gentle hand on your arm. he’s been aching for this all night.

“can i hug you first?” he asks, all gentle and confident as he turns his chair towards you. you inhale sharply because all you want is his arms around you, but you’re wary that the utter comfort and warmth they provide might make you cry. and if you start crying he might pull you away from your studies completely, but you can’t afford that tonight.

wooyoung can practically see you overthinking it, and the tears are already there, shining in your eyes. he knows what you’re worried about, and he won’t let that stop him from giving you what you really need.

“it’s okay,” he chides gently, “just for a minute, then we’ll get back to studying. i promise.” you push away from the table just a bit, and with that simple invitation, he gathers you up in his arms with such tenderness and fervor all at once that you can’t do anything but melt into his embrace. he rubs your back as you bury your face into his neck.

“i got you,” he whispers when you sniffle. “deep breaths,” he instructs, smoothing his hand up and down your back in a slow rhythm for you to match your breathing to. “you’re gonna do just fine, baby. you’re gonna do amazing. you’re gonna kick these finals in the ass, i know you will. and whatever happens, it’s gonna be alright. i know you can do this, you’ve worked so hard.” his voice is so full of conviction that the words actually calm you down. they’re not some empty promise said just to make you feel better in the moment, no, he fully believes in each syllable he speaks and that is the real comfort. and it never hurts to hear someone else say out loud what you’re praying for. wooyoung loves the way it makes you relax further into his arms.

he lets you stay there as long as you want, but the second he can tell your mind is starting to drift back to your coursework—your shoulders tighten a bit and you start to fidget with the hem of his shirt—he voices his master plan for the night.

“i’ve got an idea,” he starts, waiting to go on until you nod, “how about we get you a treat on the way home, and i’ll read to you from the textbook while you eat it?” it’s too good to be true, so you pull away to look right at him, adoration swimming in your eyes that makes wooyoung fall deeper and deeper into what he thinks is true paradise.

all you can come up with to say is a sweet, whispered, “really?”

“really,” he nods, “you deserve it!” that’s another one of those lovely things he says that you know he really, truly means.

“you’ll find it boring,” you protest half-heartedly. he just smiles.

“you know i always want to know more about what you’re studying. you’re so cool and intelligent, i have to keep up somehow!” wooyoung just about swells in pride when that makes you smile.

“as if,” you scoff, “you’re the coolest, woo.”

“mm, is that so?” he teases, earning him a peck on the cheek.

“yes, it is,” you indulge, smiling because you’re just so grateful for his love and care. “you bring me food and offer to buy me treats and read boring textbooks to me. of course you’re cool.”

maybe another night he’d play at mock-offense, asking if that’s all you really think he’s good for, but tonight he thinks those things are too important to poke fun at. so he just shoots you another winning smile and grabs your hand, standing with you.

“i’ll buy you anything you want. just lead the way, lover.”

[chubbycelebs]

Fame Greedy

Jeremy Sumpter was stood on the set of a new advert he had been signed up to by his agent. After his successful childhood in films, Jeremy struggled to break free of his past and become a serious actor now he was older. He could never land movies despite his incredible body and devotion to the roles. He was becoming frustrated with his situation. After he finished filming the advert for the day he stomped back to his hotel room and slammed the door in frustration. What more do people want. Jeremy went for a shower to cool off and when he walked out of the bathroom with a white towel around his waist he saw his agent sat on his bed. “Jesus Adam warn me next time I could’ve been naked” Jeremy said jumping slightly as he realised just how naked he was. “Oh I don’t mind Jeremy just ignore me whilst you get ready. There’s some things I wanna run past you” Adam, his agent said to him. Jeremy started to get changed. As said before he has a pretty perfect body so he wasn’t embarrassed when he dropped his towel in front of his agent to pulled on some white briefs. “So I know you are frustrated by doing adverts all the time and I think I’ve figured a way to change your direction” Adam said scrolling through his phone trying to find something. “Oh please anything is better than doing these pissing adverts” Jeremy chimed in now pulling on some jeans. “Well you see there’s been a role open up and they want you specifically.” Adam put his phone down and looked at Jeremy as he pulled on a tight shirt that showed off his toned body. “Omg no way! That’s amazing I’m so down!” Jeremy said cracking a smile. “Well there’s a catch you see. They want you but they want you to erm bulk up a bit…”

“what do you mean? How much?” Jeremy said becoming a little skeptical. “Well they didn’t give a maximum number but they said at least 60 lbs.”

“60 lbs!!!! If I gained that I’d be fat?!? Are you sure?” Jeremy said shocked by this number. “Well Jeremy they kind of want that. You see your playing a gamer for this movie and they want a big guy so they asked for you to do this…”

“Jesus christ. Well I guess I can always lose it after the film. Fine I’ll do it. Go get me some food then” Jeremy said standing up pacing around his hotel room. Was he really about to do this? He worked hard for his perfect body just to get roles and now they want him fat? I guess 60 lbs isn’t life changing. I could definitely lose that he said to him self.

Every day now Jeremy would wake up and start eating and wouldn’t stop until he passed out from a food coma. He loved eating cakes and pies and fast food. He thought there could be worse things to do. Just being told to sit on his arse and stuff his face with crap wasn’t so bad. Some days he even enjoyed lying around in his tight briefs stuffing his gut.

He started to feel his body soften as time went on. His abs melted into a soft belly that was bulging outwards. As he sat rolls formed on his body. He looked down and poked them. His finger sinking deeper into his gut was kind of intriguing. He’d never been this soft it was interesting finally letting go. It was also so easy that he started to enjoy it. He made games for him self to try and eat as much as possible. He would gain these 60 lbs in no time.

6 months had passed and the 60 lbs of fat he was asked to gain was sitting softly on his body. His body looked like it had melted away into lard. His once fit body was now replaced with a body of someone who’s lazy and unable to stop eating. Jeremy had to admit, yes he was concerned to start with but he really enjoyed the process. He loved eating and over eating. He loved sitting and doing nothing all day. And truthfully he enjoyed the extra weight on his body.

He was asked for a screen test so the ex jock actor came into the studio and got ready for the screen test. He was asked to sit in just white briefs and to sit in the set built for the movie. The camera and sound crew were all set up and ready. The director calls action and Jeremy started acting the first scene. The scene was asking Jeremy to lay on the sofa with a bag of crisps on his belly and eating the whole bag whilst a video game plays in the background. He admitted that he thought there’d be some lines to say but he happily just laid back and stuffed his belly. The director yelled cut and asked for Jeremy to come to his office. “Everything alright?” Jeremy asked the director as he entered the office still in his costume. “Jeremy my boy look at you. You look amazing. Thank you for your devotion to the project” the director said placing his hands on the sides of Jeremy’s belly. Jeremy couldn’t help but feel proud of his gain. “You see though. When envisioning the character we thought he would be well fatter. He’s a really lazy greedy character and you just look a bit chubby. We want some really mass on you.” Jeremy was a little taken a back. He felt like a lard arse already but maybe this wasn’t enough. “Alright then. I’ll erm gain some more for you then.”

“Amazing thank you Jeremy. You are gonna be one big star one day!” Jeremy walked back to his hotel room his belly rumbling. He plopped him self down on his bed. He caught a glimpse of him self in the mirror opposite his bed. He pulled off his shirt and looked at his bulging belly, the rolls that replaced his abs. He had never thought he’d get this fat but now he was gonna have to get fatter. He called for room service and huge trolly of food came to his room. He’s gonna enjoy these next few months of stuffing.

Every month Adam came round to check on Jeremy and make sure he was making progress. He would make Jeremy strip down and show his fat body. He took measurements of every part of his expanding body.

“Wow you really are packing on the pounds huh big guy?!” Adam said patting Jeremy’s belly. “I just need this role Adam. I’ve gotta show I’m serious about this. Plus it’s not hard being a lazy slob all the time anyway” Jeremy walked over to the trolly of food and stuffing in a burger. “Well you sure are a lazy slob.” Jeremy looked around at Adam as he said this. “See you next month chubs!” Adam walked out of his hotel room. That’s when Jeremy felt the hot pulse of horniness in his tight underwear. Did he enjoy Adam fat shaming him? Something about being called a lazy slob and chubs made his dick stand to attention. Maybe this fat body wasn’t bad at all. In some ways it’s actually better maybe…

A year had passed Jeremy never stop eating. He never did exercise. And never wanted to lose the weight. He awoke one morning and pulled on a tight white vest and his usual white briefs. He looked at him self. His round fat gut was huge now and hung out of his white vest. His underwear barely fit his fat figure now. He pulled up a photo of him self from last year and was so pleased to see how his body had changed. What a lard arse he had turned into. He remembers being told about this role and vowing to lose the weight after he finished but. Kw he was this huge, he never wanted to go back to his fit old self. If anything he wanted to be bigger. That evening filming started for the film. Every scene had Jeremy stuffing and eating him self silly. For months the director had him stuffed with food on camera. He had very little lines and spent the whole time being a hog on set. All this pigging out lead to him to gain even more weight and by the end of filming, the old fit boy had transformed into a huge round lard filled fatty.

Jeremy!! So good to see you big guy!” Adam came in on the last day of filming. He was met with the sight of a morbidly obese Jeremy. “You look huge!” Adam said as he hugged the greedy actor and placed hands on his belly. “Adam what actually is this film? All I’ve done is eat and be a fat pig for months. Why is that?” Jeremy said with a grin looking at Adam who had his hands on Jeremy’s fat gut. “Oh you see I was gonna say but I just kept forgetting. You see there’s a load of people who really enjoy seeing fit men get fat so me and the director thought you’d be perfect. We’ve been filming you for well over a year as you’ve grown into the man you are today. It’s like a documentary all about how you’ve turned into such a huge hog. And it’s gonna be a smash hit!”

Jeremy looked at Adam and couldn't help but smile. “You better sign me up for the sequel to this film then Adam”

“Don’t worry. The presale for this movie is already insane so you’ll be back. You’ll be along side Tom Holland as well next time!” “Oh I can’t wait to see how that goes…”

Based on the recent images I’ve posted on Jeremy Sumpter I decided to write a story with some images along side them. Hope you guys enjoy this story of the growing actor. Hopefully his fame will out weight him one day!

[peppermintquartz]

Some headcanons:

Buck hates Tommy's habit of leaving his mugs around the apartment/house. He's found mugs in the bedroom, the living room, the garage, next to the sofa, on top of the washing machine... This bad habit leads to their first fight, where Buck says something pretty cutting about Tommy not giving a shit about how he leaves messes for others to deal with

In the end Tommy has one single large mug with his name on it that he drinks out of at Buck's place, and he has to circulate the house before he sleeps to put away his mugs if Buck's staying over at his place

Tommy hates when Buck puts down one of Tommy's hobbies, even if Buck doesn't mean it at all. It feels patronizing when Buck's all "I think there are better ways to spend a weekend than see a bunch of sweaty guys in spandex pretend to fight" when Tommy asks if Buck wants to watch WrestleMania with him

Tommy ends up watching it with Eddie and happens to mention this when Eddie asks why Buck isn't there, and Eddie picks up on the underlying upset. He tells Buck that sometimes, what seems stupid to him is just Tommy's way of asking to spend time vegging out together, and that Buck should have at least given it a shot before shooting down the suggestion

They each get annoyed by the way they fold the laundry. Tommy does it army style, Buck does it Marie Kondo style, and to keep the peace they sort out the clothes into respective piles before folding them

Channel surfing. Tommy knows what he enjoys so he has just those few shows that he watches at specific times, and if there are MMA fights or NBA matches he wants to watch, he marks them out on his schedule. Buck's interested in lots of stuff and just surfs through all the channels until something catches his eye. Usually it doesn't bother Tommy much but this one occasion, Tommy's like "can't you pick something and stick with it?" And it's the critical tone that ticks Buck off, and that leads to their second fight, where Tommy snaps that Buck never seems to know what he wants

Maddie gets the brunt of Buck's rants (over the phone or in person), Eddie a close second, while Tommy works it out of his system by pummeling a heavy bag and then he calls Chimney (and later Bobby) to ask how to explain himself in a way that Buck would understand

They know exactly how they can hurt each other because they've learned a lot about each other. And they both give each other the cold shoulder after their arguments but they also can't bear not seeing each other on their days off

The good thing is, they're both mature enough and know the danger of their jobs enough not to hang on to their resentment for too long. Usually, they apologize a maximum of two shifts later

Makeup sex is fun, but they both agree that's only in small doses. Regular happy sex is better

[shiftingparadise]

Hi! Love your work. I was wondering if you could write a gojoxreader fanfic where it starts off with angst and ends with fluff. Reader and gojo get in a big fight and reader storms out of their shared house late at night. Gojo was still angry so he let her be until some time had passed and reader still didnt return. He tries calling reader but finds she left her keys, wallet and phone at home so he gets really worried and tries looking all over for her. In his search, he thinks of all the places where she could be and eventually finds reader at the spot where they first kissed or where they first said their “i love yous”

Thanks for your request. I loved, loved, loved writing this. I hope you like it 🥰. If you have any other ideas, feel free to ask. My creativity is at an all-time low 😭🤍

Word count: 1485

Warnings: none

“You can’t keep on doing this”, your eyes glossy, “You can’t keep hurting me like this”. “Are we seriously going to do this again?”, he raised his hands in frustration. “What? Am I not allowed to say something about it?”, your eyes widened in disbelief. “She’s just a colleague. How many times do I have to tell you?”.

Satoru normally never raised his voice at you, he’d never look this upset, but somehow the name ‘Utahime’ always set him off.

“I’ve known her since I was just a kid. What do you expect me to do? Ignore her? Stop doing my job every time we need to work together because you’re insecure?!”. “Insecure?”, you chuckle, “That’s not what this is about”. “Oh, it is”, he raised his voice even more, “It’s fucking pathetic how insecure you are, you know that? If I had known you’d be such a pain-“. “Really?”, a tear now streaming down your cheek, “What? You’d what?”.

A glimpse of compassion could be seen in his eyes, but it wasn’t enough to stop this argument. Since he got sent on a mission with Utahime a couple of days ago, the tension between the two of you was unbearable. And why shouldn’t it? He always had to work together with Utahime, even though there were plenty of other options. What about Nanami? Or Atsuya? Even Shoko would be fine, but why her? Always her.

“Fuck Y/N”, Satoru sighed before sitting down on the couch, “It’s 1AM, I’ve just got home… I’m tired too, you know?”. “Tired?”, you chuckled, “From what? Hanging out with Utahime? Having dinner together? Wow, must be tiring”. “Yeah, that’s all I do”, he angrily stood up again, “It’s not like I put my life on the line or anything just to save others”.

He was now standing in front of you, towering over you like a hawk. A sharp pain of guilt shot through your chest. You knew he had a dangerous job, and even though he was strong, there was never any guarantee that he’d return home.

“You know what? At least Utahime understands me”, his tone harsh as he turned back around.

Fire. That’s all you could feel in your chest. Whatever guilt you felt was completely gone now.

“Fine!”, you angrily grabbed your coat, “You should ask her to live with you because I’m leaving. You’re such an arrogant asshole!”.

You didn’t care about your voice cracking, or about not knowing where to go. You were done with him.

“Where the hell are you going?!”, his head darted over his shoulder, “Wait a minute!-“, he made his way to the door. “Don’t you dare touch me! Go talk to your precious Utahime”, you slammed the door shut behind you.

You often found yourself wishing he’d stop you from leaving during an argument, but not this time. The words that he had spat out like venom were too much for your heart to take.

“Fuck!”, Satoru let out a frustrated curse before he headed to the bathroom. He didn’t know what to do or how to feel. “She’ll be back soon”, he muttered the words to himself.

But you weren’t back soon. After an hour or so, he decided to call you.

“Huh?”, his plump lips parted as he heard the familiar ringtone. “She’s got to be kidding me”, he walked to the kitchen where your phone, your keys and your wallet seemed to be. “Great, she’s out at 2 AM without her phone or her wallet”, his voice mixed with concern and agitation. “And then she gets angry when I tell her she’s a pain in the ass”, he angrily grabbed his keys before heading toward his car.

Satoru searched for over an hour. He called every hotel, went to every gas station, every spot where you could be right now. He even called your parents to see if you were there.

“Fuck fuck fuck”, his hands tightened around his steering wheel, “Where the hell is she?”.

He didn’t care about the fight anymore. He just wanted to see you, to hold you and make sure you never leave him like that again.

“Maybe…”, he looked out the window, “I don’t think she’ll be there though”.

He was talking to himself like a madman, but he had to do so to keep his mind from spinning off to the worst-case scenarios.

“It’s worth a try”, he softly spoke before turning his car around.

It was a 10-minute drive, but his heart felt so tired. He’d been killing curses for the last couple of nights, and he desperately could use some sleep. Not to mention how much stress he was under right now. What if a man had gotten to you? That would be far worse than any curse out there. How could you be so foolish? How could you do this to him? Did you really not know how much he loved you?

“Thank God”, he let out a sigh of relief as he saw your silhouette sitting on the grass, “I’m going to put a chip in her. This is the first and last time she’s doing this to me”.

He wasn’t angry, but a hint of disappointment could be heard in his footsteps. He was worried sick, and you were sitting in a park in the middle of the night. Did he seriously have to tell you how dangerous that was? Especially without a phone or anything else.

“You idiot”, he spoke loud enough for you to hear.

“H-huh?”, his voice startled you as you looked behind you. You could see him standing a couple of feet away from you.

“What if a guy saw you like this? What if he took you? What if he-“, Satoru clenched his jaw at the thought. “I’d never forgive myself”. “Thought you only worried about Utahime. Since she understands you-“. “Are you seriously still worried about that?”, he sat down beside you.

Yes. And no. You knew Satoru loved you, more than anyone or anything, but he barely gave you confirmation. Sure, he was kind, and he did everything in his power to give you a comfortable life, but it’d be nice to hear him say he loved you more often.

“How’d you know I’d be here?”, you tucked your knees to your chest. “You don’t think I know my girl?”, he chuckled as he leaned back, his eyes studying the sky.

You couldn’t help but blush at his words, a small smile on your face. And it didn’t go unnoticed.

 “Aw, is my girl blushing already?”, he playfully pulled you closer. “Satoru-“, you let out a sigh. “I know, I know”, he loosened his grip, “I’m sorry, okay? I’ll speak to those old bastards, tell them that I don’t want to be paired up with her again”. “A-are you serious?”, your eyes widened as you now looked up at him. “Sure”, he gently placed his thumb under your chin, “Anything for my girl”.

You practically jumped on him after he spoke those words.

“I love you”, you were sitting on his lap, eyes locked on his. “I -I love you too”, the words came out a bit awkward and not as fluent as you’d like.

Satoru noticed the disappointment in your eyes.

“H-hey, it’s still as awkward for me as the first time”, he gently brushed a strand of hair from your face, “You remember that, don’t you? Otherwise, you wouldn’t have come here”.

His smile always seemed to lighten your mood.

“I do”, you chuckled. “Was it here? Underneath this tree?”, Satoru pretended not to know. “You know it was!”, you playfully smacked his shoulder. “We argued, just like this”, a sudden harshness in his voice, “I thought you were done with me-“. “I was”, you pouted. “I know”, a low chuckle before he pulled you closer on his lap, “I promised you’d be the only girl in my life, didn’t I?”. “I-I guess”, you looked to the side, only for Satoru to turn your gaze back to him. “I told you I loved you, despite my fear of getting close to someone. Why’d you think I’d throw this, us, away for a girl like Utahime?”. “She’s not just a girl”, your brows pulled together. “She’s a friend, nothing more. You can’t expect me to ignore her when I’ve known her since I was 17… But”, he continued after he saw your disapproving glance, “I’ll promise to try and join others on missions. I guess those old folks have been putting us two together quite often”. You nodded as your hands gently stroked the back of his neck. “Only if you promise not to pull something like this again”, he gently pushed you off him before standing up, “, I was worried sick”. “I-I promise”, you grabbed the hand that was reaching for you. “Come here, crazy”, Gojo easily picked you up, “We’re going home”.