#but is still convinced that if either of them acknowledge it that's the end

[scribefindegil]

just sitting here chewing on how Reigen tells Dimple, “If Mob finds out that you lied, he’s gonna hate you forever” and then immediately gets up and tells him the exact same lie i just

[empty-vessel-of-a-person]

M/C is in committed relationship with Zayne

M/C save Zayne in Snowy Serenity and Zayne saves M/C in Hidden Motive. Their love is give and take.

They will lay down their life for the safety of each other.

Zayne let's M/C drives his car.

Whenever Zayne will go to a business trip, he informs M/C right away. He was so happy when she visited him in one of his business trips. But ended up being jealous as well. (Heartstring Healer)

They are basically love drunk from each other.

People around them acknowledge their relationship. Dr. Greyson basically called M/C when he cannot reach Zayne which solidify the theory that they have been dating for quite some time already.

They come such a long way. From that awkward encounter at the café to a very touchy couple.

Developers leaving us clues that they are already an item and had been doing "it". Ex given:

Cozy Afternoon - they are sleeping together in one bed.

Phone Call: Hostage - Zayne left his tie on the sofa. I wonder why it's there? 🤔🤔🤔

Ramblings Come true - M/C only shies away from the kiss because she's sick.

Heartstring Healer - They done it in his temporary office. You can't convince me other wise.

Video Call: Foreign Aid - Zayne practically telling M/C that she can do everything to his body.

They either stay at his or her place.

Secret Times: Sudden Rain - Zayne lightly scolds M/C for still being shy around him when he towels dry her hair.

[strkie]

is it really you? logan/wolverine x male winter solider variant reader

logan has never really met a winter soldier before, and you’re not entirely what he expects. he’s not complaining, though.

notes. i love both these characters so obviously i had to mash them up - i actually like how this turned out ^_^

details. deadpool and wolverine spoilers, 1,500+ words, he/him pronouns, soft angst, depression mentioned, blood mentioned, winter soldier canon truama.

They meet you in the Void, naturally.

It's not easy to see nor tell what you are at first— you stay clear of them for a few miles after they escape Cassandra, but Logan can smell your dull and metallic scent on the winds and is aware enough of that to keep an eye out, but either Wade doesn't know or doesn't care and keeps distracting him. Logan only knows you're actually a living thing and not just a trick of his mind until he meets the survivors group of hero's that got pruned in Gambit's hideout, seeing you standing in the back shadows like some kind of menacing monster and instantly recognizing your smell. You wear your mask and combat gear, but the most noticeable thing to Logan is your entire left mechanical arm. The metal plates and gears shift together whenever you move, sparking wires when you push your arm a certain direction.

No one really acknowledges you except Laura and Wade, but he only gives you a big gasp and a quip of "the Winter Soldier too?!" before getting caught up in the task of convincing everyone to take down Cassandra. Even so, Logan can't help but stare at you sometimes, acutely aware of your presence and how dead silent you are. You don't talk, you hardly move, but Logan can tell you listen to everything with a vivid sense of attention.

When the hours pass into night, when Laura talks to Logan by that fire pit, he follows her back into the camp after a few long moments and into a separate room overlooking the forest that surrounds the back. It's easy to follow her but he's sure that's just because she knows he is, walking into the room to see you hunched over a table and digging into the machinery of your arm. You clink around with a screwdriver and welder, moving your metal fingers occasionally to see if you fixed anything. When you see Laura though, you pause, letting her grab the screwdriver from your available hand and helping you. You do not flinch when she pokes and prods, so Logan can only assume you don't feel anything or have the pain tolerance near Logan's own, but either way it's an interesting sight to see the two of you huddled together.

Logan shifts his weight on the doorway, rubbing his knuckles distractedly. Your mask is off, letting him see your face clearly, your eyes staring hard but not entirely unkind at him from your spot by the table. You're attractive, in a begrudgingly way to Logan. He's not used to being attracted to someone, no matter if it's a man or not, and it freaks him out a little— so he buries that feeling deep within himself to ignore.

When the fight comes the next day, when everyone is in the middle of their own world and killing, is when Logan actually sees how deadly you are. Your fast, strong, and take the fight on like you have nothing to loose or gain. When the fight ends though, when Cassandra is gone and everyone is crammed into Wades shitty apartment, Logan thinks about you with a heaviness he doesn't expect. You are there too, of course, but for some reason he doesn't know how to interact with you, especially since he hasn't heard you talk once all this time and how you have this brooding demeanor that rivals Logan's own.

But you interact with Laura with hand gestures and sometimes a whisper to the ear, but he never hears and never tries to actually listen since it's not him you are talking to. Still, you cling to Laura's side unless she's in the middle of a bigger group or conversation, and it's only when Logan gives Dogpool to Wade again is when he fishes you out.

You're by the boxed off kitchen, leaning against the wall near the fridge with a red solo cup that Laura obviously is making you drink, just holding it awkwardly in your hand. You have your combat gear still on but there's a red flannel on your shoulders over the rest to hide your arm, not that it really matters in this crowd, but you seem insecure about it. Logan pretends to be there for something else, obviously— getting another round of fruit punch before he acknowledges you.

"So what's up with you?" He tries not to actively be an ass, but it's hard considering you acutely remind him of himself. Your eyes turn to stare at him, and even without your facial mask covering the bottom half of your face you are still stoic and nonchalant. You don't answer him for long enough that Logan almsot shrugs and calls the whole attempt off— but then you answer in a quiet, albeit rough voice.

"I don't know how to socialize." You say it so pitifully that Logan stops all his movements to consider the situation. He nearly wants to groan in frustration because, even though he is trying, he really doesn't want to try sometimes. But you stand there sadly and still and Logan does internally groan this time.

"Well," He says going to stand next to you, though a comfortable distance away. "How do you know Laura?" You don't turn to the side to look directly at him, but he can feel your surprise radiating off of you at his attempt at socializing. Shifting from foot to foot, you answer slowly.

"I was pruned when I didn't kill Howard Stark, so I'm not- I wasn't in a good headspace. Laura found me before Cassandra did and helped me be... human again." You continue to look forward awkwardly, but you do seem more comfortable the more Logan listens to you.

Logan sits with your explanation for a moment, letting himself have the opportunity to think over his next words. It's not everyday someone like you comes into his life, and he doesn't even mean that you're attractive— he means how complex you are, especially with your long past and how you're trying to find yourself again. He can relate, honestly. When he met the X-Men— Charles— for the first time, Logan wasn't anywhere like he is before they died, or even who he is nowadays. He was a shell walking through life with no help, only looking to survive instead of live. So, yeah, he can understand, but actually seeing someone else be like that hurts in a very vulnerable manner.

"Do you have a place to stay?" He blurts out, surprising himself. You don't show much emotion besides what you reply.

"Laura said I could stay with her." You pause for a moment, pondering. "But I'm not sure what I'll do in this world, especially if their Winter Soldier is still... here." You talk slowly, trying to keep up the conversation yet also trying not to be depressing.

"I'm sure Wade wouldn't mind an extra roommate." Logan says, not caring if Wade actually cares or not because either way he's sure Wade can be persuaded by a couple good stabs.

You actually turn to look solely on Logan now, obviously shocked at the prospect, but you don't seem unwilling either. You let it sink in for a moment, and that's when Logan sees you smile for the first time.

It starts like that, although slowly. You eventually do talk to Laura and Wade about the apartment situation— Laura is obviously very pleased with this outcome if her expression is anything to go by, and Wade is actually quite happy too— but you do talk to Al about it too, who says you and Logan eventually do need to make an income if you can live here. You're not surprised nor upset by this— if you're gonna live in this new world you need employment unfortunately, but you also know the TVA set you up with your own documents to help with that.

You sleep on the couch that rolls into a bed and (some awkwardness on his part aside) Logan eventually bunks with you. You're not complaining at all— when you were in HYDRAs hands the situations were very vastly different and worse, so loading up with someone is not uncomfortable for you, especially when this person is not actively trying to kill you. But also because of this, you are used to curling up into tight spaces despite your bigger size and you don't understand why Logan finds that sad at first, so you stick to one side of the couch bed easily. When Logan realizes the reasoning for this, he slowly starts to move into your space each night. You're not complaining with this, either.

When you're not asleep, you've found yourself a bouncer job at the local nightclub down the street, just near enough that you can walk there. With the Super Soldier Serum still in your veins that grant you heightened senses and strength, it's a relatively easy job, though you get home at weird hours. This isn't really a problem since Logan hardly sleeps, Wade is Wade, and Al has a separate room. But if you're not sleeping before work, Laura has taken it upon herself to teach you how to bake and do laundry the "normal" way, which basically means not just stealing someone else's clothes or washing out primarily blood.

But it's... nice. It's domestic and healthy, two things you aren't accustomed to, and it gets even better since Logan always joins too. At first he didn't— he made it very apparent that he knew how to do these things and found no fun in it, especially baking— but then he joined anyway and hasn't left since. Maybe it's for you, maybe it's for Laura or maybe it's for other reasons you don't know, but you're happy he's around. He's never really involved with the process, but he always stays around to quip or talk about whatever Laura talks about, sometimes just asking you about your job.

Since you technically have no name in his dimension, it's easy to blend into life and start new, but honestly Logan is the one that makes you realize that. He's not nice, he's mean and tough, but then he asks about your day or makes sure you're comfortable when there's a crowd or finishes your dinner plate secretly just so Wade doesn't get offended that you didn't have a lot of his food. You don't understand immediately that you love him, and he can say the same. You just do, and he just does, and it's perfect, even when it's not perfect.

Overtime, you gradually heal your inner wounds and Logan does too, if not slowly, but it happens nonetheless. You kiss him one night coming home from work after waking him up by bouncing on the couch bed, making him grumpy then happy when you suddenly kiss his face. It's obviously unexpected, but it's too easy to continue kissing and loving on him, especially when he reciprocates, and that's how you fall asleep: tucked under him as he sleeps nearly on top of you, nose in your neck and smiling. You both sleep in til one in the afternoon, only waking up from the Dogpool climbing over you both.

[schattenhonig]

The A in LGBTQIA+ doesn't stand for aspec because they're not repressed!

(please read the disclaimer at the end of this post)

Ummm, excuse me? Would you mind telling me what your definition of repression is, then?

Because I feel repressed when a doctor asks me about my sex life, and if I say I have none, it gets marked down as a symptom without being asked if I suffer from it.

I feel repressed when my gyn tells me I can't get a hysterectomy yet despite losing so much blood on every period that I need to take iron supplements all the time, because I could change my mind about not wanting children (which is a whole other post, I know, but it's most likely linked to sex).

I feel repressed if I can't use dating apps or platforms because my sexuality doesn't even exist there, and the one time I tried, I got called names because I didn't want to meet for because it was clear where this date would go, despite my explicit "what I'm looking for".

I feel repressed when I think about how recently a paragraph was finally abolished in my country that considered sex a vital part of a marriage, basically entitling the spouses to having sex with their partner (both gender neutral, because entitling people to having sex with somebody else by law is wrong. It's basically a rape permission).

I feel repressed when I can't watch any film or show without it being about love and/or sex, no matter if it fits the narrative and furthers the plot.

I feel repressed when I plot my own stories and automatically put a romantic couple in there as main characters, even though I have no idea why this would be important for the plot. Not even my own stories, my own thoughts are mine.

I felt repressed when I was asked accusingly in a relationship if I wasn't missing something before I even knew asexuality as a spectrum was a thing, and having to lie about this being a side effect of my medication instead of genuinely not feeling attracted to someone in this way.

I feel repressed when I can't tell people I'm not sexually attracted to them because they will take this personally no matter how well I explain myself.

I feel repressed when everywhere I look there's advertising relying on naked skin, suggestive posing and objectification. Why are expensive cars still presented by women considered beautiful and tempting? It's not like that's necessary to convince people of spending so much money on a thing that gets you from A to B. Couches with women in smart dresses and high heels. That's not what a normal person looks like on a couch. But the worst is a truck in the town where I live: it's from a small fruit and vegetable stand, so whenever I see it, it comes from the warehouse, delivering groceries. On it is a woman clad in very little, presenting fruit. I'm sorry, but why? Does a misogynistic picture convince you of the necessity to avoid scurvy?

I feel repressed when I tell people and get the answer "you just haven't found the right person yet", because there are two possible assumptions from that point: I'm either not trying hard enough (so it's basically my own fault) or something about me is not right, appalling even (which circles back to I'm not trying hard enough or frames me as a victim of my genetics, upbringing or circumstances to be pitied).

Do not tell me how I feel. Do not try to tell me everything is fine and I shouldn't complain or ask for acknowledgement if everywhere I look, I'm reminded of how odd, how weird and how not normal I am. How much it inconveniences you to even acknowledge my existence, let alone respect any of my traits, views and choices.

And while I can only write from my own asexual point of view, I wrote this with all kinds of flavours of aspec in mind, so I'm explicitly including aromantics, aroace people and every shade of the spectrum in this. Not all my examples may apply to you, but I hope you can find something to relate to.

ETA: please feel free to add your own experiences of repression!

[brucewaynehater101]

AU

After the timestream, the tension between Tim and three of his brothers (Dick, Jason, and Damian) is a bit high. He's been polite and cordial with them, but there's this emotional distance that wasn't there before. When he was mad or upset with them, he'd actually show it. Now, it's like talking to an underpaid customer service representative.

In one of the sitting rooms, Dick is lamenting to Jason and Damian about Tim's distance. The two of them aren't that interested in Dick's woes as he prattles on and on. Yes, they no longer hate Tim, nor do they try to kill or maim him. They also just don't like him at this point. Going from antagonistic to grudging indifference was already a huge step. It's not like they've really conversed with Tim either. There's absolutely nothing to build a relationship on besides their not so great history. They don't really care to get to know him either.

So the two are listening to Dick vent about his relationship with Tim when something the eldest says sparks a slight incredulous irritation in them. Dick acknowledges that Tim probably felt hurt by the older's actions. Therefore, Dick concludes that it's obvious that Duke is Tim's favorite brother.

Now, listen. Both Jason and Damian like Duke. He's funny, kind, and somehow still has Bruce convinced the kid isn't the chaos gremlin he absolutely is. There's bets on how long it will take for Bruce to notice some of his headaches are coming from Duke (it's like the man doesn't remember Duke's origins). Neither Jason nor Damian have any issues with the kid.

However, Duke has been a family member for a few months at best. They're still getting to know each other. Both Damian and Jason have been brothers with Tim for years. There's absolutely no way this newbie wins best brother.

The two are not happy with the revelation, but Dick keeps talking. He, as if to himself, wonders aloud who Tim prefers more between Jason and Damian.

The two turn to look wearily at each other.

The final nail is the coffin is Dick giving up on finding out because neither of them are good at talking to Tim anyways. What's the point on speculating?

This cues weeks of the two competing with each other and, unbeknownst to him, with Duke to be the better brother. That's not what they're calling the competition, but they won't lose.

Duke is confused why every time he hangs out with Tim he gets glares from both Jason and Damian. Fearing that the two might be returning to their fatricidial ways, Duke sticks around Tim even more. Tim, clueless to Duke's reasoning, is happy that someone wants to spend time with him and chat about Tim's gadget upgrades.

Jason and Damian become even more aggressively affectionate after this.

Tim, confused as hell why the two brothers that hate him are suddenly hanging around him more, starts implementing his previous routines. He starts scanning all his food, checks his room for traps, ensures his equipment isn't tampered, and tries to avoid the Manor. The fact that his checks aren't revealing anything freak him out even more.

He doesn't know what their end game is, but there's no reason Damian is asking Tim about his photography techniques and Jason is handing Tim home-cooked goods.

Dick, the master emotional manipulator of the family, uses the chaos to mend his relationship with Tim. He also pats himself on the back for tricking Jason and Damian into putting the work in for finding common grounds with their estranged brother.

[eloise175]

I love these panels so much, I’m never getting over them not only because of how beautiful they are, but also due to their meaning and how it perfectly shows the characters' feelings.

It’s the part where Penelope tells Callisto she doesn’t love him and his face crumbles, he’s so taken aback by it but for all the wrong reasons, let me elaborate;

(contains some novel spoilers!!)

From the beginning, Callisto knew that Penelope’s confession about how she fell in love with him at first sight was bullshit.

He knows she lied to him on multiple occasions but doesn’t mind at all; it’s stated later on in his pov that despite all the rumors and her deception, Callisto too found it surprising how he didn't get angry.

They also had this conversation in the cave and many other occasions when he teased her about it and she kept on saying that she wasn’t in love with him anymore.

However each time Penelope claimed to not be in love with him, Callisto was either amused or grumbled about it playfully.

It’s the setting that changes things. Back then it was all teasing and her getting fed up with him and his successful attempts at eliciting some sort of reaction out of her.

As the story progresses, their interactions become more tense due to the friction and tension being products of their feelings for one another.

We can see the first signs of Callisto ‘wavering’ during his birthday banquet as Penelope is about to reject him.

He looked crestfallen when she brought up love because he still can’t make sense of it, convinced that his feelings of fondness can’t be related to love—or more like, he’s trying to convince himself it’s like that.

Knowing what is about to come, he shushed her, while admitting to the fact that he knew she was going to reject him, hence why he told her to give him an answer on her coming of age.

It’s all because Callisto hoped she would change her mind and her answer would be the one he hoped for, basically her accepting.

Then in the greenhouse things become more serious. The talk about Penelope’s condition had an impact on the build-up of it.

Penelope is completely serious and firm about her rejection, she is more apathetic due to the impending deadline of hard mode’s ending and things falling apart continuously.

She doesn’t have any control of the things happening around her and it makes her grow more and more anxious, to the point where it all becomes too much and it leads her to resign to her fate.

Callisto’s reaction to it is so strong not only because Penelope kept on pushing him towards another woman (which he doesn’t even know) when all he wanted was to be with her, but because she disregarded his feelings in the process as well.

Penelope goes on to say that she doesn’t love him, and that’s the real nail in the coffin, Callisto is actually in love with her but fails to realize it, but his subconscious seems to be aware of it given his reaction.

It’s a “…she doesn’t love me?” slap in the face realization.

I’m saying this because later in the novel, Callisto reveals that he hid his desire to be with Penelope behind the guise of an arranged marriage because he was afraid to admit being in love with her due to what happened to his parents. You could say he has always loved her from the moment they first met.

➺ chapter. 201 from the novel:

Anyhow, Penelope talks about her circumstances and past, saying how while wanting love she also needs and wants someone to take her out of the hell she’s in.

She tells Callisto he’s not that person and he’s absolutely devastated by that statement. He even gets described as dazed in the novel when this scene happens.

It’s a point of no return for Callisto because he still refuses to acknowledge his feelings as love for Penelope.

He can’t have her unless he admits to loving her, but he’s afraid to do so due to his past, he's convinced that if he confesses then she would end up like his mother.

Callisto needs a push, and that push is the fear of losing her forever which comes in the form of Penelope’s poisoning on her coming of age ceremony.

It all boils down to “don’t make any assumptions about my feelings” and “you don’t know what/how I feel” but we don’t get that since Callisto is suppressing it.

He’s angry and rightfully so and Penelope’s earlier apparent indifference doesn’t help either.

But yes, Penelope’s rejection hurt him so much because loves her.

Callisto is conflicted and in denial. It’s like he’s already having an inner battle about his feelings and then Penelope comes and deals the final blow, stomping all over his heart while pushing him away.

"I chose you, Penelope Eckhart. Not your household." and “Does my proposal mean so little to you?” are so telling because it’s clear that he’s been strongly impacted by all of this.

Callisto genuinely wants to be with Penelope and get her to the safety of the palace but went about it the wrong way.

They’re so miscommunication, it will be so long before they get to talk properly about their feeling and we get that love confession I’m not okay T_T

Thinking about all the things that will happen before that is making my head hurt, I’m going back to reading my comfort fanfics…see y’all tomorrow when the beginning of the end begins with more yearning and angst as Callisto will come back :,)

[topzsun]

TRUST THE CHANGE

── ♡ KENMA KOZUME

❝ life is variable. you are convinced kenma is your constant. ❞

You realise quickly that being Kenma’s friend means sitting at a weird dichotomy of knowing you are his friend, or not having a clue at all. This confusion isn’t helped by the fact that the teenage boy functions under disinterest and reservation, words sparing and any forms of expression even less so.

The first time you laid eyes on Kenma Kozume, it was the first day of the first year. A cliche beginning, for someone who is considered so unconventional. You had arrived late, late enough that unofficial seats had already been reserved and taken, and your only choice remains next to a hunched figure with long inky hair and a PlayStation Portable in hand. It wasn’t a wild assumption to make that she must be the introverted and distant type. You can work with this.

You sit your stationary down on the open seat, and your new seatmate only tilts her head long enough to catch a glimpse. Within that split second, you quickly register your mistake that your new seatmate was not a girl and that he had the most gorgeous eyes you’ve ever seen. The moment ends much too fast for you to catch your bearings, as he’s already absorbed back into his video game. You aren’t sure if he’s making a deliberate effort to not look your way. Before you can open your mouth to at least introduce yourself for courtesy’s sake, the homeroom teacher has already walked in, the clicking of her heels against the tiled floor being the first warning that you should be in your seat. You plop down next to him, absentmindedly busying yourself with arranging your pencils and pens on your desk. You miss how he spares a secret, second glance at you through his dark tresses.

(i)

The first year goes by almost uneventfully. It didn’t take long for you to learn your seatmate’s name, not when he’s been reprimanded so many times for having a console on his person during class hours. He’s not the type to greet you good morning, and you’ve learnt not to bother either because Kenma seems to have little care for the traditional Japanese code of etiquette and you felt silly being formal around him as well. Despite his mentioned apathy, he still manages to acknowledge your presence with a stiff nod, which you return with a smile.

You think the first time things had begun to shift is when you arrive at class, much earlier than usual on a humid Tuesday. You almost drop to your seat, sickened from the weather, and your eyes distractingly follow the screen of Kenma’s console, the boy so absorbed into the game he doesn’t bother even glancing up to see who is beside him. When you recognise the familiar graphics, you don’t think twice when Monster Hunter escapes your lips. That seems to be the trigger to catching his attention, as he quickly pauses to look at you. He still seems to avoid eye contact, but at least his head is turned in your direction.

“Do you play games?” He asks, and when you give your affirmative answer, he only lets out a muted him. With the lull of silence, his attention is drawn back to his portable console. However, he shifts an inch closer, as if inviting you to watch him play. There is a flutter in your stomach the rest of the morning you watch over his shoulder because you think you’ve successfully become acquainted with your aloof seatmate.

(ii)

You’ve never seen Kenma outside of classroom hours, and you blame it on your vastly different schedules. You ignore your friends’ teasing when your eyes scan the hallways during lunch, as they are convinced you harbour a crush on the raven-haired student. That’s not it, you’ve tried to explain, he’s the only person you know who likes the same games as you. This did little to dissuade your overzealous friends, so you leave them with their wild imaginations. They were right, however, when they say that your mood visibly deflates when you can’t catch hide nor hair of Kenma. You blame your disappointment on your curiosity, you are just nosy to know what he does in his spare time that doesn’t involve a screen.

It’s during the evening when your first wish comes true. You had opted to stay back to study for an upcoming test, and the hours blended together till you were leaving the library at the same time club activities were being dismissed. Your walk back home is unusually exhausting and strenuous today, and you fault it in the hours you’ve sat cramming for knowledge. As you pass by the local river, your daydreams of relaxation are cut short when you spy a figure sitting crouched on the cobbled staircase leading to the bourn. This alone isn’t what gave you pause, but the sight of familiar locks of dark hair and Nekoma’s red tracksuit. His name appears instantaneously in your mind. Before you can second-guess yourself, you have already strolled over to your classmate, eager to see what game he will be conquering today. It comes as a surprise when you find him empty-handed, his arms instead wrapped around his legs pressed against his chest. He is instead watching the peaceful flow of the water, uninterrupted by the slow breeze or the dawning clouds. You don’t think you’ve ever seen him so contemplative.

Common sense would alert you that maybe this isn’t the moment where he wants to be bothered, but your body moves to the command of your heart rather than your brain, and you’re already standing two steps behind him. The sound of your footsteps draws his attention, and he glances over his shoulder curiously. For a brief moment, you think shock crosses his expression, but before you can be sure he has already returned to a neutral expression. He doesn’t say anything, and you realise he is waiting for you to speak first.

“Are you okay?” sounds reasonable. A show of appropriate concern.

“Do you want to talk?” an invitation for him to air out what is on his mind. Considerate and inviting.

“Can I sit here?” You ask with a baited breath and he blinks at you, sharp eyes scanning your figure almost curiously.

“Okay,” He answers and shifts aside enough for you to take a seat. You drop your bag and stretch your feat over the steps, silent, and Kenma doesn’t attempt to fill in the space with conversation either. The river looks nice painted in gold.

(iii)

The second year begins in spring, and some things remain constant, like how you are still seatmates with Kenma and that you still have the same pencil case as you did in your first year. However, as destined, the new year also brings about changes, like how Kenma has decidedly gone blonde and that you’ve learnt of a senior named Tetsuro Kuroo. Meeting Kuroo felt inevitable now, not with how much more time you spend with his childhood friend, but you can’t find yourself interacting with him like you did Kenma. Kuroo isn’t a bad person at all, and it wasn’t his fault you didn’t know how to talk to him, but that doesn’t stop the third year from trying to relate to you in other ways, mainly revolving around Kenma Kozume.

“You still haven’t seen him play, have you?” The spiky-haired student asks you during a slow Friday afternoon, the both of you loitering in the hallways as you wait for Kenma to return with his neglected gym bag. You answer the senior with a shake of your head, to which he only raises a brow in question. Maybe your hesitance to watch Kenma play volleyball could be chalked down to a silly reason, but in your mind, you have rationalised it as a boundary. Kenma has talked about games with you and has even slipped trivial complaints when you ask him about his day. In comparison, volleyball was kept behind a locked key, and you aren’t sure of the significance of the sport in his life. If it’s his secret haven, reserved for his close friends, could you really go over and brute force yourself into the scene?

You were too scared to know whether Kenma considered you a friend or not.

At your silence, Kuroo goes to poke at you further but the languid arrival of Kenma dissuades further conversation. You are about to bid your standard farewell to the pair and head home for the day until you are frozen in place by a sly glimmer in Kuroo’s hazel irises. Before you can shoot him a warning, he has already dismissed you by casually turning to Kenma.

“Hey, why don’t they watch our practice match today?” He suggests innocently. You falter. Kenma blinks at the taller boy, clearly conveying ‘Why are you even asking me?’ with a quirked brow and an unamused frown. For a second, his eyes flicker to your struck expression, and it seems some sort of understanding dawns over him as he simply shrugs.

“Sure,” Is all he says, and he reluctantly heaves his duffel bag over his shoulder, making the familiar trek to the gym without looking back at you and Kuroo, as if he’s already gotten bored of the two of you. Kuroo only smiles smugly when you stare at him accusingly.

“You’ll see how cool he is when you watch him play,” He states confidently, making sure Kenma is out of earshot. There is affectionate pride lacing his tone and your mild irritation deflates upon his obvious care for his close friend.

“I think he’s cool already,” You respond absentmindedly, and it doesn’t dawn on you the implication of your bold words until you see Kuroo’s smile only widened. Things are changing.

(iv)

You’re surprised it took you this long to meet Shohei Fukunaga and Taketora Yamamoto, thankfully the two weren’t hard to befriend. Fukunaga kept a similar quiet disposition to Kenma, but where Kenma was evasive, Fukunaga merely bided his time before he made his presence known in the form of a timely joke. On the opposite side of the spectrum sat Yamamoto, who always speaks as if he’s making a purposeful effort to strain his throat. Loud, proud and hot-blooded. The four of you formed an odd sort of group when school time is over and all that remains is volleyball or leisure. You have also begun spending your evenings in the school gymnasium rather than running straight for home, seated on a bench as you watch volleyball practices till the sun threatens to set. Kenma had only asked you once why you stopped by all the time to watch them play, but when you aren’t able to answer him he drops the subject and never questions it again. You wonder if he picked up on your hurt expression.

On a lifted note, you think you’ve officially cemented yourself a permanent place in Kenma’s routine, so it really shouldn’t have been that much of a surprise when he invites you over to his house to pick up a game title you had been wanting to play, and that he conveniently owned. Yet, once you are standing in front of the Kozume family residence, you are still smoothing down the invisible wrinkles in your clothes and double-checking the state of your hair in the reflection of your phone screen. If your friends were here, they’d laugh at you acting like you are going on your first date rather than just picking up a game disk. At the second ring of the doorbell, the door creaks open to reveal Kenma. His usual uniform is traded in for a baggy white hoodie and comfortable track pants, coupled with fluffy house slippers and expensive-looking headphones sitting snugly around his neck. It should feel embarrassing how you think he looks nice, even in an attire so casual.

“Uh, come in,” He moves aside allowing you entry into the quiet abode. You trail after him as he navigates to his room, and in your teenage mind, it feels scandalous to be here without his parents being home. However, your concerns begin to take a backseat when your attention is drawn in by Kenma’s shelves on shelves of video game covers, and you realise you severely underestimated how much of an enthusiast he really is. You busy yourself scanning through all the different titles he owns, forgetting about your real objective for today until there is a stifled cough from next to you. You whip your head around to find Kenma awkwardly standing, the CD he intends to loan held out with an outstretched hand. Before you could apologise, Kenma opened his mouth first.

“Do you wanna play some games?”

You don’t think you’ve ever said yes so fast.

(v)

The months pass by far too quickly, and you’ve found yourself at the bleachers, cheering next to Alisa Haiba and Akane Yamamoto till your throat threatens to go sore. From the Spring High tournament up until nationals, your eyes have never left Kenma’s figure. Even up till the moment when the ball first fell, and Kenma resigns himself to the floor in exhaustion while tears cloud your vision amidst the noise of the court. Even with your short time watching this team, their loss after a string of wins had admittedly hit you hard.

(A part of you can’t help but think you are bidding farewell to something special.)

When you see the team later, hustling their tired bodies to their accommodations, you join Alisa and Akane in praising the group and their efforts thus far. The rest of the teams respond with their gratitude, some of it mixed with tears, and it's only Kenma who shuffles away from the sudden attention. When your eyes meet his, you aren’t sure what force urges you to throw your arms around him, the past two years of memories with him swarming your mind all at once.

(What is wrong with you?)

You take expressed care in not letting your desires come to fruition, instead merely smiling widely at him hoping it’s enough to convey how you feel. You are surprised that despite his visible fatigue, he still manages to give you a small smile in return. It takes you aback because you swore it felt gentle.

(What is he to you?)

Despite the third years officially retiring from the volleyball team in pursuit of their plans for the near future, you still visit the club often. Kenma is still a fixture in your life. It feels like nothing has changed after the final match, but it has, and you can’t put your finger on it. This haunts you more than you care to admit.

Whether Kenma notices your newly odd behaviour and has chosen to ignore it is beyond your knowledge, but right now you are in his room, resting against the footboard with nothing but a stray pillow to support you. Kenma lounges directly opposite you, back against the headboard as his fingers tap away at his handheld game. You have a matching one in hand, but you’ve long since abandoned concentration, opting to instead stare absentmindedly at the colourful screen. Perhaps he’s noticed the lack of movement on your part, because he looks up to stare at you, inquisitive and cautious.

“You aren’t playing,” He states bluntly, and long enough time has been spent for you to pick up on his silent follow-up question, “What’s wrong?”.

“It feels off,” You mumble, and there is a sudden silence on Kenma’s end as he pauses his game, the background music dying to show you that you have his attention. “Like… I don’t know if I can conceptualise my own future. Isn’t that weird? Most people usually have an idea where they wanna be when they're older.”

Kenma doesn’t respond immediately, and before embarrassment and regret can fester, he speaks up.

“It’s not weird,” His game unpauses, and he’s back to clicking away at his controls. However, he continues talking. “You don’t have to have every inch of your future planned out. That’s way more unrealistic and weird.”

There is a beat of silence.

“I don’t have anything planned either,” He says plainly, but to you, it feels like he’s letting you in on a secret. “It’s fine to figure it out later. It isn’t a race.”

“But if there is a race to worry about now, it’s this one. I’ve already won the last few rounds,” A smirk suddenly dons his lips, subtle and sly and you blink in surprise as you hurriedly tap back into your screen only to confirm that indeed, Kenma has won yet another round of virtual street racing. As attention is once again drawn back into the game, you can’t help but feel your heart beat rapidly against the cage of your chest. You wonder if he can hear it.

Your second year ends with Kenma’s leg brushing against yours.

(vi)

You blinked, and it was already graduation day. Students carry their diplomas proudly, taking pictures with their friends or their families who stayed back after the ceremony. Yours is clutched tightly in your fist, and your family and friends have long since bided you congratulations and tearful farewells. Your attention now is preoccupied by thoughts of Kenma, and how you hope he hasn’t already headed home after the ceremony, no matter how characteristic it is for him to do so. You pass by the glossy-eyed Yamamoto and the smiling Fukunaga, to who you share your congratulations before they point you in the general direction of where they had last seen Kenma. You move on autopilot, briskly walking past countless bodies to spy a familiar head of blonde hair. Surprisingly, you find Kuroo first, with the alumni towering over most of the other students with his spiky hair. You see Kenma next to him, seemingly conversing with each other. Your heart rate picks up.

It seems Kuroo’s eyes land on you as well, as he interrupts his conversation to grin and wave you over. He is a welcomed sight, despite the fact you both never got to be close even before his graduation last year. Kenma, confused by what caught Kuroo’s attention, turns over his shoulder. You rush over to the pair.

“Hey, you! Congratulations on graduating,” Kuroo is the first to greet you once you walk over, and he pats you gently on the shoulder in a gesture that feels akin to a grandfather’s. You decide not to point this out on such a day.

“Congrats,” Kenma doesn’t meet your eye, fingers tugging at the ends of the paper in his hand. You’re slightly taken aback by the sudden reservation but still manage to return the greeting. Amidst this sudden development, Kuroo seemed to have taken it as an excuse to dismiss himself, perhaps to find his other underclassmen or to spare himself from the sudden tension in the air.

“I dreamed of this day for years, but now that it’s here, I’m not sure how to feel,” You laugh awkwardly, and when Kenma doesn’t respond you grow quiet. “Kenma?”

“What are you going to do after this?” He suddenly asks, surprising you with the sudden question. It doesn’t feel like something he’d ask.

“You mean… what I’m going to do after now, at this moment?”

“No, I mean,” He seems to be growing frustrated, and you aren’t sure if it’s with you or himself as he runs a hand through his hair. “Later in the future.”

You hesitate.

“I think I’ll study more,” You say with some confidence. “I don’t have all the details but… I’ll figure it out, right?”

Finally, Kenma seems to relax a little, and you wonder if he picked up on you parroting his words back at him.

“Yeah, that sounds nice,” He mumbles out and there is a pregnant silence, where the both of you wait for the other to break it.

“But what I do know is that I still want you to be my friend. Is that fine?” You bite the bullet, and this is probably the most resolute you’ve been around the blonde. He looks at you, a little startled by your uncharacteristic declaration, and his usually sharp eyes soften.

“Sure, that sounds fine,” You don’t notice how his fingers loosen their grip around his diploma. There is a faint smile on his lips, but his demeanour radiates something cunning. “We’re heading to a sushi place later, Kuroo’s treat. You wanna join?”

Even when Kuroo reappears to yell at Kenma for his poorly disguised plan to empty his wallet, your heart refuses to calm down. The breeze in his hair and the glimmer in his gold eyes confirm what you’ve always been afraid of.

You are in love with Kenma Kozume.

(vii)

You kick away your heels, exhaustion and frustration being the only driving forces that got you through the front door. At the sudden noise, a familiar head pokes through the doorway, and Kenma greets you with a raised brow.

“Another one?” He asks, and despite the curt words his tone is not accusatory, unimpressed at best. However, that doesn’t stop the groan that leaves your lips as you walk past him to practically dump yourself onto his couch.

“Tell me about it,” You speak in a single fatigued breath, grabbing onto a cushion that you can squeeze against your chest as a makeshift stress toy. “He told me forgot his wallet, so I had to pay for dinner, then he had the nerve to ask me for gas money when he only drove me two minutes down the road so I could catch a taxi home! Who is birthing these degenerates?”

Kenma, perhaps afraid you might launch the pillow at him in misplaced anger, decides to sit next to you instead of in your direct line of vision.

“Sounds like it sucked,” He says the obvious, and you don’t blame him for his aloof response despite wanting a bit more comradery. Kenma never cared for the dating scene, and it's this fact that has driven you into a world of blind dates and dating apps. Anything to escape the fact that you love Kenma in a way that he cannot reciprocate. Anything to convince yourself you can move on, despite how unsuccessful you have been for the past eight years. You’re aware you’ve already leaned onto his side, and it's years of knowing each other that lets you be this close to him despite his usual aversion to physical touch. Sixteen years old you couldn’t have even dreamt this up, you think humourlessly.

“I’m probably gonna end up alone with six cats,” You say miserably, and yelp when you are flicked on the forehead, lifting a hand to frantically rub at the reddening spot. “Hey!”

“Ending up with six cats is better than marrying a trashy guy,” He states, probably the closest show of annoyance you’ve gotten from him. “I’m ordering takeout. Do you want anything?”

You nod, and he doesn’t need to ask for your order, your usual is already memorised. You unlatch your hands from the fabric of his hoodie so he can get up and phone the restaurant, with you quickly growing to miss him by your side, left to find warmth in your discarded cushion. Despite you not technically living here, it goes without question that Kenma’s place is practically yours. It’s as concrete as the spare house key that rests in the depths of your purse.

It’s one of the benefits of being Kenma’s friend. Just his friend.

Hell, if you could go back in time, you’d tell your teenage self that their biggest concern wouldn’t be their career. It would be their innocent crush on Kenma spiralling to whatever confusing mess this is.

When Kenma returns, you’re already scrolling through his selection of games on his PlayStation, to which he joins you, returning to his previous seat beside you. Throughout the years together, the both of you have changed. Some aspects for the better. Some aspects for the worst. Ultimately, there was nothing more unifying than loading up a game and playing together. It reminded you of those nostalgic evenings when you’d lounge in Kenma’s room with him when the both of you were too beat from school and club activities to bother with conversation. Gaming had always been your guy’s silent language.

The doorbell rings timingly, signalling the arrival of your food. Amidst dinner you regaled him in the latest happenings at your controversial workplace, while he listens silently, only interjecting once or twice with a hum. Before you know it, dinner is finished and Kenma is stretching his tired limbs.

“I’m heading to bed,” He informs, and you bid him goodnight as you take custody of the guest bedroom, as you usually do when staying over. Perhaps someone with more common sense will tell of the implications of leaving a toothbrush, a charger and spare clothes at his place, and how his guest bedroom’s only occupant seems to be you. However, these are thoughts you busy yourself to not entertain. Getting your hopes crushed is far more ruthless than stewing in the middle ground of not knowing what you are to Kenma.

You’ve donned your spare night-time clothing, and you are caught in surprise by the sudden strong draught in the room. You shiver instantly, turning your attention to the curtain drifting alongside the open breeze. You rush over, thinking Kenma must have forgotten to close the window, but when you draw aside the curtains, you're baffled to find the window in its entirety completely missing. Did someone steal Kenma’s window?

You are already at the gamer’s bedroom door, with some hesitation since you feel guilty for interrupting his sleep considering his busy day tomorrow. Within your second knock at the door, it opens and you find a dishevelled Kenma leaning against the door, sleep-ambled and his long hair free from its usual bun. You take extra care in not letting your eyes travel to his low-waist pyjama pants. You hurriedly explain the situation for the window, which he manages to comprehend while slapping a hand to his forehead.

“Ugh right, I forgot I was getting that window fixed,” He grumbles. “Uh, you can take my bed. I’ll take the couch.”

“Woah, wait, no!” You hurriedly stop him with an exaggerated show of hands. “This is your house, you should be sleeping in your bed. Plus, you’ve got work tomorrow!”

“The couch isn’t wide enough for you to sleep comfortably,” He states plainly.

“The same goes for you then!”

There is a terse silence, where the both of you stare each other down, not confrontationally but to think of a solution. Hazed with sleep, Kenma reaches a conclusion first.

“Fine, we’ll both take the bed. We’ll just stay at our sides,” His suggestion almost made you choke on air, and you are barely able to stifle your surprised reaction, however, Kenma isn’t known for being unobservant, as he merely sighs.

“Look, I can seriously stay on the couch it’s fi—”

“Okay! We’re sharing,” You have already briskly walked, not letting Kenma see your frazzled expression as you feel your face heat up. You weren’t about to let him sleep on his couch in his own home. You wish you could describe the nerves that feel you when Kenma slowly closes the door behind you.

Even getting into bed had been an awkward ordeal, in which Kenma refuses to look your way while you decide to put your absolute best efforts into getting into bed without seeming like you want to bolt out of the room at a moment’s notice. When your head finally hits the pillow, some of your internal complaints have disappeared, relishing in the comfort of finally relaxing your tired body on a comfortable mattress and pillow. You are quickly snapped back into reality when you feel the bed dip in weight from where Kenma gets in. To his credit, he’s laying as close as possible to the edge as he could, giving you the most distance possible in a queen-sized bed. It doesn’t ease the pounding in your chest, and the flutters in your stomach. You feel like you’re seventeen again, back when your heart used to dance if Kenma did something as simple as brush his hand against yours when you reach for the same thing. Except, this is a whole other level of closeness you have never covered with him. It makes you excited. It makes you want to throw up.

“Your leg is shaking,” He mutters, and you whip around to find Kenma facing you, eyes tired but you can spy a glint of concern even under the room's darkness. “I can still take the couch if you’re nervous, it’s fine.”

Damnit, you wished he’d get flustered instead of you for once. You wish he’d show a lick of interest, so you can finally stop these horrible first dates and yearning glances when he isn’t looking. You wish he’d just reject you, so you can finally put to rest the sheer love you hold for him, the man who has reserved a special type of fondness for you that you can’t tell if it should belong to a friend or not.

“Do you like me?” You don’t even register your lips these words escaped from, not until you see Kenma’s eyes widen under the dim LED light of his monitor. It’s too late to take them back, and you can’t stop how your breathing threatens to stop as you wait for his answer.

“... Yeah,” He answers, “You’re here all the time.”

He didn’t get it. He didn’t get it at all.

“Sorry, yeah, never mind it was a stupid question to ask,” You manage to splutter out, and you quickly turn around to hide yourself from Kenma’s confused gaze. “I kept you up enough already, let’s just sleep.”

The room goes quiet again, and you will yourself to hold back the tears that threaten to blur your vision. There is no way you’re going to cry of all things. You screw your eyes shut. You can deal with this in the morning when he’s not around. You just have to make it through the night.

The mattress shifts in weight again, and you assume Kenma is trying to get more comfortable, but your heart drops when you feel an arm, hesitant and shy, reach around you. Slender fingers rest on your hand, and a clothed chest presses against your back.

“Saying I like you like everyone else isn’t enough,” You hear Kenma’s voice behind you, mumbled but you can pick up the slight tremor of his hesitance. “I like you in a different way than others do. More than they ever could, probably.”

You turn your body around, and Kenma’s fingers retract from its hold. You latch onto the sleeves of his nightshirt, and you try to breathe normally so you can get your words out.

“I really like you, Kenma,” Your hand clutches his. “Since we were in high school. Since I used to watch you play games. Since I used to come to your volleyball matches. Are you saying you like me the same way?”

“Yeah,” It’s a simple and definitive answer, and he squeezes your trembling hand. His lips are quirked upwards at the corners, eyes narrowed in affection. “That’s exactly how I like you too.”

Some would enthrall that moments like these are when fireworks erupt in the air, and a romantic and desperate kiss is shared between lovers. However, that is not your Kenma, who is not romantic, but instead observant and tactful and has put you through the wringer for almost an entire decade. He moves closer to you and lets his head rest into the crook of your neck, his lips tracing your skin as he speaks.

“Goodnight.”

The sun will rise again.

[luvrhischier]

hi! can you do a friends with benefits with trevor, where you’re out with friends and dancing with some random dude and he gets jealous and admits he has feelings for you, and obviously you (we) do too! 🤭

jealousy, jealousy // trevor zegras

pairing: trevor zegras × reader

word count: 2.4k

a/n: strayed from the request (only the tiniest bit), another one that jumps between povs

a/n 2: feel like it’s similar to my other fics but it was requested so

warnings: alcohol/drinking

(you)

Yesterday’s game had been rough. A few unfair calls, more fights than usual, and a lost at the end. Trevor said he needed to go blow off some steam so him, Jamie, and a couple of the other guys were going out. Trevor always invited you out with him, even when he wasn’t really supposed to. 

The two of you were laying in your bed. Both naked from the activities that had taken place only minutes ago. No, the two of you weren’t together, you were just best friends and roommates who occasionally hooked up and maybe you felt something more but you’d never never be the first to admit that. 

When he asked you to go with him he had to beg you to come, you told him you had some assignments to catch up on but he gave you those stupid puppy dog eyes and pout and you instantly caved. 

That’s how you found yourself getting ready to go out. When you went out partying you always loved to get dressed up, it was fun and made you feel amazing. As you looked through your dresses you found the one you had recently bought. It was a little tighter than your other dresses and a lot shorter. This was the perfect opportunity to break it in. 

From the bathroom, where you were doing your hair and makeup, you heard Jamie and Trevor walk into your room and fall onto your bed. Nobody said anything, there was just a comfortable silence. 

“The Uber is gonna be here in 5,” Trevor finally broke the silence. You made one last finishing touch before walking out of the bathroom. You still didn’t say anything to either of them, and they were too lost in their phones to notice you. You walked to look at your shoe options. You couldn’t decide.

“Guys, which one? These or these?” You faced them and held up two different pairs of heels. For the first time since they had walked into your room they looked at you. Both of their jaws dropped. Jamie quickly closed his mouth then looked at Trevor with a smirk.

“That’s new,” Trevor stuttered. You smiled, surprised that he noticed. 

“Yes it is. Do you like it?” You asked, doing a spin to show the whole dress. Trevor just quickly nodded his head. “Now, which pair?” You asked again. 

Jamie finally looked back at you and at the shoe options. Trevor was too busy checking you out to help. Thankfully, Jamie wasn’t. With a nod you put on the one he chose. Right on time the Uber driver said they were here. 

You sat with Jamie on your left and Trevor on your right. Jamie and you were the only two talking. Trevor was silent, he just stared out the window. You placed your hand on his thigh and felt him tense up making you quickly pull your hand away.

“Are you mad at me?” You asked, genuinely confused as to what was wrong.

“No, not at all,” he said with a forced smile. You weren’t really convinced but you let it go. You nodded before going back to your conversation with Jamie.

When you finally arrived at the club you all got out and Trevor paid and thanked the driver before turning to you and Jamie. He walked to the door, still not really acknowledging you. You looked over at Jamie and he just shook his head and rolled his eyes. You sighed before following. 

They led you to where the rest of the group was. After greeting each other you made conversation with some of the girls, from the corner of your eye you could see Trevor trying to act like you weren’t there. You needed a drink. You turned to Jamie.

“I’ll be back.” You walked away after he nodded his head. When you made it to the bar you smiled at the bartender. 

“Hey, what can I get you?” He asked. 

“I honestly don’t know,” you laughed as you looked at the little laminated menu. He chuckled back and leaned forward on the bar. 

“This one is really good if you’re looking for something sweet.” He pointed. “And this one is really good if you’re looking for something strong.” 

“Surprise me,” you smiled as you looked up at him. Your faces close but neither of you pulled away.

“One surprise coming right up,” he smiled, finally leaning back to make your drink. 

You watched in awe as he made your drink. You felt your cheeks heat up as you two playfully bantered. When he was done he placed it in front of you.

“What’s in it?” You asked as you looked at the drink in front of you.

“You sat here and watched me make it,” he laughed.

“Yeah well I was a little distracted,” you blushed. He just smirked and looked at the drink.

“Just try it.” He leaned forward on the counter, not as close as before but still close enough that you could see that he had freckles scattered across the bridge of his nose.

“You went with sweet,” you said after you took a sip.

“Seemed appropriate.” He winked. 

“Now,” you paused and looked at his name tag, “Andrew do you flirt with all of your customers?” You joked as you took another sip.

“Only the cute ones,” his face scrunched up. “God that was so fucking cheesy I hated that.” 

You laughed.

(him)

“Guys, which one? These or these?” He heard you ask.

When he looked up and saw you in that dress he felt the air being knocked out of him. His jaw dropped. From the corner of his eye he could see Jamie’s do the same before he quickly composed himself and looked over at him. He could see the smirk on his face and he wanted to punch him. 

“That’s new,” he stuttered. He knew every single one of your dresses by memory and this one he had never seen, and it wasn’t like any of your others. This one was shorter and tighter.

“Yes it is. Do you like it?” You asked sweetly as you spun around. He couldn’t say words, he could only nod. He didn’t know how much longer he could keep his feelings a secret. He was only broken from his trance when he heard his phone alert them that the Uber had arrived.

You sat to his left and he couldn’t look at you. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to, he wanted to more than anything he just knew that if he did he’d break. He chose to stare out the window instead. 

He felt you place your hand on his thigh. It was simple and innocent but still he tensed. You quickly pulled away.

“Are you mad at me?” You asked

“No, not at all,” he forced a smile. He hated that he was making you think he was mad but he didn’t know what else to do. You just nodded and turned back to Jamie. He knew this night was going to be difficult and he didn’t know if he was ready for it.

When you all arrived at the club everyone got out as he quickly paid and said thank you. When he turned he just looked straight ahead and walked in, maybe if he ignored you he’d be able to ignore the growing feelings inside of him. 

Quickly he greeted everyone before grabbing one of the unopened beers on the table. He didn’t look at you, even when he could see you looking at him. Finally, he saw you walk away and he felt like he could breathe again. He looked over at Jamie and Jamie rolled his eyes before pulling him over. 

“Are you gonna sit here and ignore her all night?” He asked.

“I’m not ignoring her,” he lied and Jamie only scoffed

“Are you gonna stop being a pussy and tell her how you actually feel?” He looked over at you before turning back quickly.

“Dude I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

“I’m talking about how you’re in love with her and have been for awhile now,” he casually responded.

“What are you talking about? Me in love with her?! No!” His tried to play it cool but he failed, tremendously. 

“Okay so if I told you that she’s over there flirting with the bartender you wouldn’t care right?” 

He quickly snapped his head to the bar so hard that it hurt but he didn’t care. He saw as the bartender handed you a drink before laughing at something you said. Was that a smirk on his lips? Why was he leaning in? Why was he winking at you? What did he say that could have made you laugh like that? He didn’t like any of that at all. 

He turned his head back around and felt his body heat up. 

“Nope I don’t care. She’s just a friend,” he lied once again.

“You’re so full of shit,” Jamie scoffed. “Can you please just put us all out of our misery and just admit it so we can end this whole pining situation?” Trevor needed to go clear his head.

“I’m going to the bathroom,” he muttered. He set his beer down and for the first time he realized just how tight he had been gripping it. He made sure to not look if your direction as he passed by. 

(you)

You honestly didn’t know how long you had sat here talking, but you didn’t mind. You were enjoying his company. The only pauses in your conversation was when Andrew had to go help another customer. 

“Would it be completely inappropriate to give you my number?” Andrew asked when he returned.

“No, it wouldn’t.” You watched as he searched for a pen and grabbed an unused napkin. Quickly he wrote his number down before handing it over. You looked it over before setting it back down, hoping not to lose it. Before you could continue the conversation you felt someone walk up right next to you. You looked up and saw Trevor. You rolled your eyes before looking back at Andrew.

“What can I get you man?” Andrew asked politely. Trevor didn’t say anything he just looked down at the napkin with a phone number on it. He picked it up before turning it over to clean up a small spill.

“What the fuck?” You gasped. When he turned the napkin back around and saw that the number was smudged and illegible he smiled.

“Yeah, can I just get another beer,” Trevor looked up at Andrew, who also couldn’t believe what just happened. 

“There is plenty extra ones at the table so go get one of those,” you said through gritted teeth. 

“I don’t want any of those,” he shrugged simply. He had no right to be acting like this. You hopped off the stool.

“Andrew I’m sorry,” you apologized. “I’ll be right back.” You grabbed Trevor’s wrist.

“I wouldn’t count on it Andrew,” Trevor said. You tugged him harder. When you made it outside you were glad the streets were almost empty. You dropped his wrist harshly before turning towards him with your arms crossed. 

“What the hell was that?!” You asked annoyed. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said like a child. You scoffed in disbelief.

“Yes you do. I was having a good time with Andrew and you walked over and ruined that.” He rolled his eyes when you said Andrew’s name.

“Oops.”

“If you’re going to act like a child fine whatever I don’t care just leave me alone.” You walked past him to go back inside.

“He’s not good for you,” he said loudly. 

“You have no right to say that. You didn’t even properly talk to him. You acted like a dick.” You turned back around. “First you ignore me in the car and then you ignore me inside and when I finally start having a little fun and I’m really getting along with someone you come over and interrupt!” 

“I couldn’t.”

“Couldn’t what?! Acknowledge me? Let me have some fun? Last time I checked Trevor we weren’t exclusive.”

“Yeah you don’t have to remind me,” he whispered hoping you didn’t hear, but you did. That’s when it hit you. You smirked and Trevor rolled his eyes. “What?”

“You know I always knew you were the jealous type.” You stepped closer to him. He gulped. 

“Me jealous?! I’m not jealous,” he stuttered. 

“Oh so if I went back in there and got Andrew’s number again you wouldn’t care right?” You pointed behind you and took a few step backwards. 

“Nope,” he squeaked. 

“Okay cool I’ll be right back.” You turned but before you could even take one step he stopped you. 

“Please don’t,” he pleaded. You turned to him.

“Why not?” 

“Please don’t make me say it,” he whined. 

“Say it,” you needed to hear the words come from his mouth.

“You know I’m not good at this stuff.”

“I need to hear you tell me why you don’t want me to go back in there. I need to hear you say it so I know it’s real.” You walked up to him. You grabbed his hand and you felt him relax. 

“I don’t want you to go back in there because I don’t want you to flirt or go out anyone else,” he paused and looked you in the eyes. “I don’t want because I want us to be together. I love you, way more than a friend,” his voice was low but you could tell he meant every word he was saying. He closed his eyes, not know how you’d react to his confession, preparing himself for the worst.

“You don’t know how long I’ve waited to hear you say those words,” you smiled softly. His eyes shot open. 

“If this is some sick joke it’s not funny,” he said in disbelief. 

“Do I look like I’m joking?” He looked at your face and saw nothing but adoration. He let out a sigh. “This is the part where you kiss me,” you joked. Trevor wasted no time. His lips were on yours in a heartbeat. Both of you smiled into the kiss. Finally you both pulled away. 

“Can we please go home because if we go back in there I might end up punching Andrew in the face,” he said as he placed his forehead against yours. You giggled, knowing he was only slightly joking.

[pochipop]

＃ALICE IN BORDERLAND !! ♡ — THERE'S NO HELL IN WHAT I'VE FOUND (CHISHIYA X READER).

#. synopsis! — chishiya has fallen in way too goddamn deep .

#. characters! — chishiya .

#. warnings! — brief mentions of canon-typical gore, slight angst .

#. word count! — 1.2k .

#. alt accounts! — @ddollipop (nsfw) @yyolkchi (reblog/spam) .

#. others! — navigation & masterlist .

#. a/n! — i have not finished season 2 yet, but i wrote this all in one sitting after seeing the first two episodes + falling for this silly man all over again lolol. i might branch out + write more for this fandom (but i will never write for niragi, so just a heads up on that!)

It really did just have to come to this, didn’t it?

Chishiya is a lot of things, but stupid isn’t one of them. He knows that when it comes to surviving in a place like this, there are times when you have to sacrifice others and be willing to carry that burden for the rest of your life. There is no easy way out. Either you die and go on to whatever happens next, —if anything happens at all— or you push others to the wayside in lieu of saving yourself, preserving your own survival, and you live to see the monster you inevitably become. 

And call him crazy, but Chishiya was okay with becoming a monster if it meant he could save himself. Hell, he’d done so much of the work from the shadows that it would hardly be fair to let him of all people meet his tragic end here.

But you just couldn’t help yourself. You had to crawl under his skin, —make him care about you, make him fall so hard that he was left to question whose survival mattered more. When it came down to the wire. . .

He’d have chosen you.

That’s the scariest realization of all, he muses. These games, all the gunfire, all the explosions, all the fatal electric shocks. . . They paled in comparison to the realization that his biggest fear wasn’t his own demise anymore. It was yours.

As the game comes to a close and those of you left standing slowly reacclimate to the best state of normalcy one can muster up given the circumstances, he hates that his first instinct is to slip away, knowing you’ll find him soon enough. He may have been foolish enough to catch feelings, but he wasn’t so dumb that he’d show such a weakness around anyone else. Though he’s sure the likes of Kuina or Arisu have long since caught on, —he won’t be the one to confirm a damn thing, and he expects that you’ll keep your mouth shut about it as well. It’ll be a worse liability than it already is if word gets out to the wrong people.

Chishiya slips away before anyone has the chance to acknowledge his presence, leaving his absence unaccounted for by everyone but you. Of course, you noticed him sneaking away, parting from the group like a snake in the grass. . . You’ve always been a little too perceptive for your own good.

Fatigue claws at you like a famished predator, weighing your body down a great deal. You smell of sweat and the blood of the young girl next to you who hadn’t been quite so lucky. Still, you will your body forward and follow in Chishiya’s footsteps after lingering for just long enough to throw suspicion off your trail. While you certainly aren’t a master of manipulation, —you are clever in a way that even someone like Chishiya has to respect. You know how to take care of yourself, even in a twisted world like this.

He wishes knowing that gave him any kind of peace, but he’s afraid he’s reached the point of no return. It’s not that he doesn’t believe you can survive just about any of these games on your own. . . It’s that even if he does, the worry lingers just because it’s you. 

Fuck. 

He really can’t believe he’s done this to himself. It’s so untimely, so completely and utterly ridiculous, —so much so that he convinces himself his mind is just playing tricks on him sometimes until you fall into place at his side again and all such thoughts are forced out the window from his vice-like grip. 

“Ugh,” you grumble, arm tucked below your chest as you cradle your own torso, “there you are.”

Chishiya offers you little more than a sidelong glance before returning his stoic gaze to the skyline. The sun sets as you bring yourself closer to him, keeping a comfortable distance. It ends up just like this far too often, and Chishiya frowns at the thought of closing the barely-there gap, brushing his shoulder against yours. Maybe later in the night when the lethargy really starts to hit him and his inhibitions lower ever so slightly, he’ll let himself fall apart just enough to hold you for whatever time of fleeting hours remains. That way, he can blame it on the fatigue, on the cold, on the temptation of sleeping next to a warm body.

It’s not because it’s you, it’s just because you’re there.

And maybe if that were the case, Chishiya wouldn’t be quite this frustrated.

“Surprised it took you so long to find me,” he says finally, keeping his eyes straight ahead. “You’ve been getting slower about it.” 

“Oh, well excuse me for not rushing after you like a lion on a gazelle,” you answer sarcastically. “Not like my lungs almost gave out down there or anything.” 

He doesn’t say it, —but he’d trade his breath for yours if it meant you could reach him faster. 

“That one wasn’t so bad,” he shrugs. “We’ve both been through worse.”

His worst is just beginning, it seems. You close the gap yourself, resting part of your weight against him, and he feels his heart flip itself into a tailspin. For the first time in so long, Chishiya isn’t sure where to go from here. He’s trapped inside these feelings and they’re inching closer to swallowing him whole by the second. They run so deep he might as well be drowning in them.

“Easy for us to say, I guess,” you mumble. “We’re alive. Most people who end up here aren’t that lucky.”

“True enough,” he acknowledges softly, making no move to push you away.

He never does. 

You stand in silence with him for a while, watching as the sky turns dark and the bright colors of the setting sun are swallowed up by a deep, velvety navy. There’re no stars to be seen, nothing for you to wish on. . . It’s a little childish, but any sliver of normalcy you can manage here, you’ll take with open arms. That’s why you let your feelings for Chishiya blossom freely, refusing to stifle your heart’s desires for the sake of some stupid game of life and death.

If I die right now, I’d rather do it with you than be alone. 

Chishiya wishes you’d never said those words to him, —not because he doesn’t reciprocate, but because they resonated much too wholly for comfort. If he can help it, he won’t be going out in a place like this. But more than that, he can’t imagine letting your flame be snuffed out without a ravenous fight.

Silence reigns once again. It’s a characteristic feature of your gentler moments with Chishiya that are few and far between, but when they happen, you like to think you cherish them the best way you know how. Beyond that, you also like to think Chishiya finds even the slightest sliver of peace with you. 

He doesn’t confirm or deny anything of the sort, but you wager that’s a flimsy yes at the very least when the tension in his shoulders melds away and his head rests gently against your own.

You can’t make any promises about tomorrow, —but for now, things are okay. And if that’s the best you’ll get here, then so be it.

[akutasoda]

title - 'my heart that once was beating / bleeding in the palm of your hand'

╰➜you once held an unmatched love for them, but now you think they take it for granted

dedicated to - blade!

warnings - gn!reader, fluff, slight angst no comfort, emotionally incompetent blade, sonnet length - 721

a/n: req an anon!

you cherished blade.

held a warm tenderness for him that pushed your relationship with him past the bounds of friendship and into a romantic relationship. admittedly, it was you that dared break into that territory with him initially - blade struggled with his feelings, and even if he came to terms with them you both knew he would've pushed them down and never addressed it.

and so anyone would have guessed that blade would start off being quite awkward about it. by no means was he familiar with such a feeling and so he wasn't exactly the most clued in to anything to do with being in a relationship.

so for the very first steps of your relationship, you did the work, not that you minded - you loved him, and so you were sure that it would all fall into place eventually. for someone as closed off as blade, you thought that if you made it this far with him, then he must've really felt a similar way.

it didn't take a genius to figure out that being in a relationship with blade would be a challenge. and you knew it wouldn't be easy, but a determined part of yourself was convinced that it wasn't impossible - although now it seemed foolish.

the signs were near immediate, humiliatingly so. although what was more embarrassing was your blatant determination despite all the signs. it merely appeared to you as an initial awkward ease from friendship to the current relationship, you were okay with taking things slow - there was no rush.

for the most part, nothing seemed to change between you and blade. it was almost like nothing at all happend. which again, wasn't a problem - you two had a pretty decent relationship before and it wouldn't be the worse to keep it at that level, except for you two deciding to advance your relationship.

slowly but surely you started displaying your affection in your form of love language. at the end of the day, you two were still lovers and even if blade was slower to come around to it, you would still do you. blade never rejected your love because he did in fact care for you, more so than he did for anyone else he knew as “blade”.

you weren't the issue, blade knew he was. you made him experience emotions he never imagined having since he took on the name “blade”, but he'd never imagine it being anyone else - he just couldn't navigate his only feelings properly and he never bothered to find out.

unfortunately that would be his downfall with you. as much as you loved him, it eventually reached the point where you were growing tired. everything you did was met with the bare minimum reaction from him, like he barely acknowledged your actions.

even the things you would do for him or with him as friends seemed not to evoke the same feelings as they used to. it no longer felt like the two of you were a team, more of a one sided battle that you were losing.

you knew it wasn't going to be easy, but you were willing to put the effort in - although it would only work if blade put the effort in as well, which he was not. it demoralised you, rightfully so as relationships only worked if both sides tried.

blade struggled with emotions and in turn, made you struggle. blade wasn't good with communication either and so you had no clue what was happening - day by day it felt like more of a fight to stay with him, a fight that you wanted to win but it felt impossible to do so.

though, he wasn't an idiot. he could see you becoming more distant, you were struggling and all he could do was stand by and watch. blade knew how you felt but he had no clue how to be there for you. as much as he wanted to be your lover, maybe the two of you were better off as friends. it'd pain him to see someone else with you but if he caused you nothing but pain, took your care and love for granted then you deserved better.

[wonbriiize]

pairing; wonbin x reader

genre; fluff, comfort (in a way)

warnings; none

note; idk what to think about this but i hope y’all will like it anyway !!

all at once

in which you convince your boyfriend wonbin to make bracelets with you and he ends up making one specifically for you…

“i can‘t believe you’re making me do this,” wonbin sighs while he sits down on the floor, next to you.

“oh, don’t act like you don’t love this,” you grin, taking out your beads, and everything else you need to make bracelets, from the bag you brought with you.

“you know what i love?” wonbin smirks, suddenly pulling you closer to him.

“hmm.. no, i don‘t think i do?” you tease him, smirking against his lips.

wonbin plants a kiss on your lips and you fight off every desire to take this any further because wonbin’s roommates are all at home and you don’t want them to just burst into the room out of nowhere.

“let’s get to work,” you let go of wonbin and start collecting out the beads that you want to use for your bracelet.

wonbin does the same, but he’s struggling to find colors that he wants to use. for him, this isn’t just making any bracelet. he wants to make one for you. and it needs to be perfect, because in wonbin’s eyes, you deserve nothing but the best.

you wonder why it’s taking him so long to search out the beads, but your worries get brushed off once shotaro enters the room and sits down on the floor.

“i want to make a bracelet too,” he says, not really asking you for permission to use your beads, but you don’t mind. out of all the roommates wonbin has, shotaro is your favorite.

wonbin doesn’t even notice shotaro coming into the room, he’s too busy thinking about the bracelet that he’s making for you. he‘s putting all his focus into it. wonbin doesn’t even get mad when shotaro makes you laugh so hard that you almost start tearing up (because he is the only one who’s allowed to make you laugh like this), no, he’s too invested in the bracelet. right now, he’s deciding what he should use to make it more special. more meaningful.

“shotaro, your bracelet looks so cool,” you say, admiring his work. even though shotaro just started it, he’s halfway done already.

“yours doesn’t look that bad either,” he grins.

“can you two stop flirting? i‘m trying to concentrate,” wonbin glares at shotaro and you which makes you both laugh.

“hey, look who finally acknowledged my existence,” shotaro throws a bead at wonbin’s head, which just annoys him even more.

“if you keep flirting with my girlfriend, my fist will also acknowledge your existence.”

your heart jumps at the mention of ‘girlfriend’. wonbin and you have been dating for a long time, but everytime he calls you his girlfriend it still feels like the first time. it makes you feel so happy, excited, loved… it makes you feel so many things all at once.

wonbin makes you feel so many things. no matter what he does or say.

“wohooo, how scary,” shotaro grins even more.

he knows wonbin would never actually hurt him, they’re best friends. he just likes to tease him from time to time so he can loosen up.

“if you’re done with your bracelet can you leave?” wonbin points to the door and shotaro rolls his eyes. “no, i‘m not done yet.”

“i think you are,” wonbin raises up his eyebrows.

“i‘m literally not,” shotaro looks confused, not understanding why wonbin is pushing this so much.

“you can finish it up somewhere else.”

“but the beads-”

“god, shotaro, just leave so i can have some privacy with my girlfriend!!”

this conversation between the two of them makes you laugh. seeing wonbin and shotaro bickering with each other is your happiness.

“you could have just asked nicely instead of forcing me,” shotaro pouts, standing up.

now wonbin feels bad.

“dinner is on me,” he says and shotaro starts grinning. “i wasn’t actually sad, i just knew you’d say this if you’d think i am.”

with that, shotaro happily jumps out of the room, leaving wonbin shaking his head with a big smile on his face.

“i hate him.”

“you love him. but not as much as me i hope,” you slip closer to wonbin and wrap your arms around him.

“there‘s no one i love as much as you,” wonbin leans in to kiss you, but he stops right before his lips land on yours. your heart sinks a bit, you were really anticipating the kiss.

“what’s wrong?”

“before i kiss you, i want to give you this,” wonbin pulls out the bracelet that he has been working on the whole time.

“it’s for you.”

your jaw drops a little and you’re shocked at how beautiful the bracelet is. you can tell that wonbin put in a lot of thought while making it because in the middle of the bracelet, he put in a bead which represents an inside joke that the two of you have.

“you didn’t have to do this,” you say, feeling sad because you didn’t make one for wonbin.

he softly grabs after your wrist and puts the bracelet on.

“i wanted to.”

then he looks up to you again, his eyes scanning your lips.

“and now i want to do this.”

seconds later, his lips intertwine with yours. you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him as close to you as possible.

at this very moment, you don’t care about wonbin’s roommates being at home and the high possibility of them suddenly coming into the room.

no, all you care about is wonbin.. and the beautiful bracelet he made specifically for you.

and once again, wonbin does it ; he makes you feel so many things.. all at once. all indescribable. all beautiful.

[cande2oo6]

FINALE SPOILERS!!

.

.

.

[I know I'm going to sound a bit fantasma ("ghostly") ("fantasma" is an Argentine expression to refer to a person or action that shows a strong egocentrism, believing themselves to be more than they are) with this but I really want to say it, sorry]

I liked the episode, although I will admit that it disappointed me a little things I didn't like very much:

- The fart jokes. Are you kidding me? I mean, I know it makes sense at least with the confetti explosion (which believe me, I like to a certain extent since it helps to highlight a serious state), but I still didn't like it very much (especially in the end, but at least they did acknowledge that)

- The anti-fairies. Is it just me or did they become dumber? Their actions in the fight disappointed and bothered me quite a bit

- Dev and Peri. I think I spoke for the majority when I said I expected a better reconciliation, I mean, they barely interacted!

- Dev and Dale. I was expecting something a little more dramatic

- Irep's "betrayal" felt half-baked. In my opinion, it was obvious that Irep wanted to betray Dev, but it never really became "official" so to speak

- Anti Wanda and Anti Cosmo didn't have much involvement, and they didn't interact with either Irep or Dev

- Jorgen and Dale weren't scolded out even a little bit. Jorgen, Dev didn't need a newbie who probably just became a godfather to carry on a legacy. And Dale, REALLY WANTED HIM TO SUFFER EVEN ONE SMALL THING BUT IT DIDN'T HAPPEN

- Dev's suffering is taken as a joke

- Wanda doesn't look as upset and scared as I would have expected about Peri exploding

- The "DEEP DEEP" joke. I feel like it would have been funnier (and less annoying) if Wanda had actually been actually upset in the episode (something a little more like when she met Irep again)

"Umm... I'm not sure" stuff:

- Hazel's friends and brother retain their memories. I don't know, I wasn't really convinced, but it's innovative, curious and interesting

- The fight against the anti-fairies in general

- Irep neglects Peri. And yes, it's kind of dumb, but think about it for a moment. We already know that Irep hates Peri, but in the previous series he saw and suffered the consequences of affecting Poof (sorry for this but it's canon) in "Timmy's secret wish", he KNOWS that if Peri dies he will too

- Hazel's friends and brother not being so surprised about the existence of magic. It makes some sense but still...

- Dev loses Peri. It was fair, but I wish they'd apologized to each other even though

- There was no parallel between Irep and Dev. I was hoping they'd do something about how they both feel like shadows of other, but emphasizing that Irep is genuinely bad and Dev isn't that bad at heart

Things that put me in "LET'S FUCKING GOOOO" mode:

- Anti Wanda and Anti Cosmo are part of the same idiot

- Anti Wanda isn't as dumb and nice as she seemed in the other series

- Pattypossum and Nottimmy holding hands, Crocker saying "I was right! 😃" and Jorgen erasing everyone's memories. Just little details and jokes that I like

- Dev and Hazel's conversation. I would have liked to see them interact a bit more, but I'm satisfied

- Peri being a spokesperson in the finale. Acknowledging the horrible joke and demanding a second season

But as I said, I liked it, and I look forward to a second season with other characters that were never mentioned or appeared, like the pixies, Chester, Trixie, Norm, Juandissimo, etc.

What's your opinion of the finale? :)

[writerslittlelibrary]

I'm not sleeping on the floor

masterlist

summary: when you go on a mission with the famous Black Widow, who you think hates you, there appears to be some trouble with the hotel booking, one that ends in the truth being revealed.  

pairing: Natasha x teen avengers reader

warnings: none I think

genre: fluff

words: 1695

a/n: I remember reading a fic of a Natasha x reader where the hotel only had one bed and I enjoyed it so much I wanted to read more of them, but of course I could find none so I decided to write one myself :)   (if you know any fics with this concept, please tag them in the comments)

You do not have my permission to repost, copy or translate my work 

 |——————————— ⴵ ———————————|

You sighed deeply while you sat in the car at the gas station, waiting for Natasha to finish up and continue your drive to the hotel. It was late, and both of you were tired. You knew Natasha must be mentally exhausted, always feeling as if she didn’t like you that much. At first you thought it was because you were still a teenager, but now you were convinced she just didn’t like you. 

You, however, looked up to her, and when Fury made you the offer to join the Avengers you were excited to meet her. When you did, your excitement soon faded, noticing how cold she was towards you. You were heartbroken, but soon learned that staying out of her way was the best way to go. 

And so, on most days in the compound you avoided her. When she came into the training room, you’d leave, and when you came into the kitchen she’d do the same. 

It wasn’t what you hoped for, but you thought it worked to not make her upset. That changed however, when Fury decided that the next mission was perfect for the two of you to complete, going undercover as mother and daughter at an expensive party clearly meant only for the rich. You didn’t exactly come from a rich family, and you felt very out of place during the whole evening.

You didn’t think Natasha noticed, she herself looked right where she belonged, as if she was made for this kind of life. Just another thing that made the two of you different. 

Your train of thought was interrupted when the car door opened, Natasha getting in and handing you a bottle of water. You gave her a quiet ‘thank you’ and took a few sips, clearly dehydrated from being at the party too long.

“It’s about a two hour drive to the nearest hotel,” she told you, typing in some navigation in the car. “Would you like some music?” Natasha asked as she turned to you. You didn’t dare look at her, deciding to just stare at your feet. “Sure,” you told her. 

Natasha gave a hmm of acknowledgement before putting on some music, making the rest of the car ride a lot less awkward than the previous hour had been.

Once you arrived at the hotel, Natasha told you to grab your bag and follow her inside. You followed her instructions like a lost puppy, not wanting to do anything that might make Natasha mad. Once inside the hotel, Natasha walked up to the desk, asking for a room for her and her daughter. She was smart, not letting the roles you were giving fall away just yet. 

The lady at the desk smiled sweetly, typed something into her computer and then handed Natasha a key. Natasha walked back to you, motioning to the elevator. You followed her once again.

When you made it to your room, and you walked through the door, you realized there was only one bed. Something you saw Natasha wasn’t really happy with either. “Just so you know, I’m not sleeping on the floor,” she told you, settling her stuff against a wall. 

You nodded, settling your own stuff on a chair. You didn’t want to pick a side on the bed, worried Natasha would end up with a side she’d be uncomfortable with. “You can shower first,” you told her. Natasha gave a sound that resembled a ‘thanks’ before disappearing into the bathroom, leaving you alone in the empty room. 

You could hear the shower run, and the fact you didn’t have to sleep alone comforted you in a way that was hard to describe, even if it was with a person you were sure didn’t like you. You settled on sitting on the floor, grabbing your sketchbook from your bag and busying yourself with some sketching. 

Once Natasha came out, you slipped into the bathroom, wanting to shower and get into bed as quickly as possible. 

You showered quickly, getting rid of all the dirt before drying off and putting on some comfortable clothes. You walked back into the room, seeing Natasha had already settled on her side of the bed, book in her hand. She looked at you when you reentered the room, closing her book and setting it on her bedside table.

She had picked the side of the bed closest to the door. Maybe a habit of hers, you thought. So she could run out of the room the fastest. 

You walked to your bag, grabbing your favorite stuffed animal from it before settling into bed, as far away from Natasha you could manage. It was bad enough you had to sleep in the dark. All be damned if you had to sleep without your stuffed animal as well. 

You felt Natasha’s eyes on you, eyeing you as you kept your stuffed animal close. You thought she was judging you for still sleeping with one, not realizing she was simply concerned. 

You crawled under the covers, making sure Natasha had all the space she needed. This, of course, didn’t go unnoticed by the redhead, but she decided not to comment on it. 

When you joined the Avengers she didn’t agree with it at all. She told Fury she found you way too young, not even being a legal adult yet. Fury dismissed her, saying you were a perfect person. She was upset when Fury didn’t agree with her, and when she met you she was hesitant. When she saw you for the first time, her heart simply broke. You looked so young, and in your eyes she could see the world hadn’t been kind to you. 

You greeted her with a smile though, one Natasha found herself being unable to return. You were just a child. How could Fury possibly ever send you on a mission. How could he ask you to risk your life for something you probably didn’t even understand yet. After she met you, she was avoiding you, not wanting to face the reality of the fact you were risking your life in their team. When she saw you train it reminded her of the Red Room, feeling as though she was no better when she let you join the Avengers. 

Little did she know that you took this behavior as resentment towards you. And so, you started avoiding her, sensing that you made the Russian uncomfortable.  You didn’t want to be in her way, so you stayed out of it. You avoided her, and Natasha simply thought you learned about her past and were afraid of her. She decided to avoid you too, not wanting to scare you or make you uncomfortable. 

And so, the cycle began. Both of you avoided the other for months, until this mission was called. Natasha was excited she got to work with you one on one, but she was worried you wouldn’t like it. 

She sensed your uncomfortable feeling throughout the whole party, hating herself for not knowing what to do about it. When she saw the one bed she was simply afraid she’d make you more uncomfortable. She decided to sleep closest to the door so she could protect you if anything were to happen, something you picked up wrongly as well.

When she saw your stuffed animal, her heart simply broke. It was just another realization for her about how young you really were. You weren’t supposed to do these kinds of missions yet. 

“Goodnight,” she told you, turning the lights off. l

The room was completely dark, scaring you in a way you couldn’t really explain. You never liked the dark, but after your father would lock you up in that dark room every time he got sick of you, you feared it more than anything else. 

You whimpered slightly, hoping Natasha didn’t notice. Of course she did, but she didn’t let you know that. You clutched your stuffed animal closer to your body. You were terrified, feeling as though you were back in that little room. Natasha, nor any of the other Avengers knew about your past. Together with Fury you decided to keep it a secret, thinking it was better that way.

You shivered, pulling the blanket a little higher up. 

“Are you okay?” you heard a voice from beside you. Your head whipped around, your mind completely leaving the hotel room and you got stuck inside your own head. 

“It’s okay, it’s just me,” Natasha said, sitting up a little. “You’re safe,” you looked at her with fear for a few seconds, before you realised where you were. Your body relaxed a little, the blanket not held so tight anymore. 

“Do you not like the dark?” Natasha asked you carefully. You slowly shook your head, scared you might make her upset. “We can keep a light on, or I could hold you… maybe…” Natasha continued unsure. She still thought you were afraid of her, and didn’t want to overstep.

“Why would you help me? You don’t even like me…” you told her, looking down at your stuffed animal. 

Natasha frowned. Was that really what you thought of her? “What do you mean?” she asked you confused. “You walk away when I’m training, you don’t even look at me, and you always seem to be mad at me,” you told her slowly, still not looking at her.

“I thought you were afraid of me…” Natasha said softly. You looked at her now, eyes a little wide. “Afraid of you? No. I admired you. I just figured you didn’t like me so I kept my distance,” you explained to her. Natasha smiled at you. “I didn’t agree with Fury for placing you on the team because you’re so young. It has nothing to do with you, or the person you are,” Natasha explained, shuffling a little closer.

“Come here.” She opened her arms, letting you shuffle into them. “I’ll protect you, I promise,” she said as she held her arms around you, giving you a secure and safe feeling.

“Thank you,” you whispered, closing your eyes. “Anytime kid,” Natasha replied as she let her own eyes close, falling asleep peacefully. 

[whateverisbeautiful]

♥️Reveling in Richonne - TOWL

#56: The Real CRM (1.06)

gif cred: @andy-clutterbuck

Will the real CRM please stand up? 😁 The thing I most liked about these Rick and Beale exchanges is that while Beale was peeling back the curtain on what the CRM is really about, Rick got to let Beale know about the only CRM he and I recognize - and y’all, that’s Carl, Rick, Michonne. 💅🏽😌...

Beale sees major potential in Rick as he tells him he thinks the next decade's leader might be Rick Grimes. It’s like Okafor said, even though Rick has never wanted power, it’s undeniable that he has it and is a natural-born leader. But I think this natural-born leader is very eager to retire and just be a family man and the world should finally let him. 🙏🏽

Beale notes how Rick came back to them even after so many escape attempts and even despite having had the perfect out because they thought he was dead. They cut to several moments of Rick during his time in the CRM and then Beale says that Rick has become a powerful story that they can essentially parade around to others to convince them of why the CRM is the answer.

Even saying that is so detached and reductive - treating Rick as not a person but a persuasive story.

gif cred: @taiturner

Beale talks about how he and Okafor have sacrificed and he says Rick has already sacrificed too as he holds up his prosthetic, a reminder of Rick's willingness to sacrifice his own hand for his family.

Then Beale gets personal yet still seems so detached as he asks, “Who’s the person closest to you who’s died in all of this?” And Andy’s acting is so good as he pauses for a moment and then says, “My son.” I could shed several tears from those two words alone. 🥺

One; I love how often Carl was acknowledged in TOWL. He’s so impactful to Rick and Michonne so it’s only right. And the way Rick says 'my son' here, it's viscerally evident how personal this is to him. I love how there’s this vulnerability to the way he says it while also trying to keep a guard up.

Rick somberly says, “He’s who I saved tearing out that man’s throat.” Because truly there isn’t anything Rick wouldn’t do for Carl. 😭 And the pain on Rick's face when he says this hits hard. It's like you can visibly see him mentally returning to two extremely heavy moments from his past - the night he killed those Claimers to save Carl and the night he lost Carl in Alexandria.

And then, despite the fact that this is clearly an extremely hard loss and not easy to talk about, Beale seems like he doesn’t have a heart with his insensitive response.

Beale says, “But you couldn’t save him in the end.” And him disrespecting Rick and Carl had me wanting to swing on the Major General tbh. 🥊

After Beale's unfeeling remark, they show a quick clip of Rick and Michonne standing at Carl’s grave. 💔 Then Rick shakes his head and somberly answers, “No.” Which is just 🥺🥺🥺. 

A big element of the pain of this is that, before Carl passed, Rick viewed the weighted act of killing a man with his teeth as an act that kept Carl alive. But now, when he thinks about that moment he also has to think about how Carl still didn't make it, even despite what Rick was willing to do to protect him. 😞

I guess normally this would be an effective tactic from Beale. He gets the soldiers thinking about the person they most loved and lost and how they couldn’t save them, convincing them that committing to the CRM would be a way to prevent those losses and that pain from ever happening again.

But fortunately, after some heart-to-hearts in a crumbling apartment with Michonne, Rick is no longer susceptible to thinking the CRM can’t be beat so they must be joined.

Beale says, “What if I told you, you would never have to suffer that kind of loss again, that wherever you were running to, whoever you were running to…you could keep them safe, you could bring them to us?” For some reason, I doubt the sincerity of this offer.

And it seems Rick isn't buying it either. Plus, even if it was a legit offer, Rick would never just be content with keeping his people safe while the CRM exterminates mass amounts of other innocent people.

When Beale says, “Family, friends, a love…I don’t give a damn.” the not giving a damn part is clear. You can tell Beale has been so far removed from having people he loves for a long while.

Somewhat adjacent to a mindset that Rick nearly adopted before Michonne helped him return to himself, Beale thinks protecting people is a sufficient replacement for loving people.

Beale says he’ll spare the people Rick loves because he’s willing to take that chance on him. Rick continues to hang onto his knife under the table and Beale can’t tell that he has an increasingly feral Rick in front of him.

Like the way Rick looks at Beale...it was clear that the Major General was about to meet Red Machete Rick real soon. 👌🏽

gif cred: @riickgrimes

Beale goes on to tell Rick about how “The Next World will begin” and my extra self just liked hearing the title of Richonne’s s6 canon episode in TOWL lol. 😊

The time finally comes for Rick to swear on the sword and then we’re brought back to the moment in ep 1 when Beale wanted to ask a question and get the answer by looking in Rick eyes. And then here in the finale, Beale also gets an answer from Rick’s eyes because rather than swear on the sword and 'not let it take' like Okafor advised, Rick refuses to swear on the sword at all.

Rick's done playing along. So after they show a series of clips of Rick and Michonne taking down opponents in TWD, Beale quickly realizes that he’s got the wrong one as Rick’s expression shifts. He can tell Rick is very clearly in kill mode as Beale then grabs his weapon and says, “No.” But it’s too late.

gif cred: @coltseavrs

Rick chuck’s his knife at Beale and slides across the desk to tackle him down. 👏🏽

Beale and Rick get into some hand-to-hand combat, with Rick’s prosthetic again shielding him from getting cut up when Beale swings his sword. Beale wants to know why Rick came back if he hadn’t really conformed. Rick doesn’t believe the world is gonna end and Beale says the world won’t but he’s trying to make sure that the human race doesn’t end.

When Rick gets a hold of Beale’s sword he plunges it right through Beale’s hand and Beale’s first response is one of regret that he trusted Okafor enough to give Rick a chance. Cuz clearly that didn't work out too well for Mister Beale. 🙂

And then, after Beale’s long speeches and disrespect throughout this ep, it was finally Rick’s turn to speak. 😌

gif cred: @nobleriver

Rick lets Beale know, “I never lost my son. I lost myself. He brought me back.” 😭 I love how Rick now knows his son was always with him, even when he thought he lost him. And even after losing himself, his son was still able to bring him back.

Carl brought Rick back so many times as he lived and it’s heartwarming to know he continues to do that from the other side.

gif cred: @nobleriver

And then y’all already know I am beyond here for the fact that Rick then says, “My wife brought me back.” The way he puts that emphasis on “my wife.” 🔥 Oh he meant this. 💯

And you know it probably felt extra great for Rick to now be able to say 'my wife' knowing he's finally been able to give Michonne a ring like he wanted. 💍😌

gif cred: @machonnes

Hearing Rick call Michonne his wife will always be music to my ears. And I love that he can't help but say it with so much passion each time. 😊

And once again Rick has a perfect track record of giving Michonne her flowers. He knows the reason he’s here, and back to being himself, and fighting this fight, is because of his wife. Fighting for him, believing in him, and bringing him back are some of the many ways Michonne saved Rick's life.

I love the way this connects back to Michonne telling Carl that he and Rick brought her back in their heartfelt season 4 finale scene. Carl, Rick, and Michonne all brought each other back. 😭

(And little does Beale know that the wife Rick’s talking about is one Consignee Bethune. Looks like Beale was right to have her on his radar. 😋)

Rick says, “We’re the sword that kills. We’re the sword that gives life. One life. One unstoppable life.” I like that Rick gets to tell Beale this after the CRM thought they were the only answer.

gif cred: @likeafantasy

Again, he’s letting Beale know who the real C.R.M is and it was moving to see Rick doing this in the name of Carl and Michonne. His son and wife. He represented the Golden Trio well here. 🥹

(And I know some people wanted/expected TOWL to be super focused on CRM content. But the way I see it - it was.👌🏽 Because Carl, Rick, & Michonne sure got a whole lot of focus. 😌)

Rick's final scene with Beale made it ultra clear that Michonne and Carl give Rick so much strength. They did back then and they still do years later. His wife and kids are why he fights. 👌🏽

And I like that Rick reframed Beale’s mantra to see that it’s the people you love who really are the ones who give life. Hearing Rick say “one unstoppable life” also made me think about how he mentioned in the TWD series finale that Michonne showed him that they’re one unstoppable life.

And that’s why they don’t have to succumb to the doomsday fear of the world ending again because, as this apocalypse has shown, - their one unstoppable life doesn’t end even when the world does. 

gif cred: @likeafantasy

Then Rick concludes by saying, “We’re not dead…You are.” as he, in a bit of poetic irony, kills Beale with his own sword. It’s nice hearing Rick declare “We’re not dead” having lived the last few years feeling like a dead man. The real Rick is alive and well now. 🙌🏽

And the real Rick is also a little crazy, but that’s how it’s always been and we love him for it. 😌

Also, the snarl with that delivery.👏🏽❤️‍🔥 Rick can be at his most feral and every time I'm still just like...

Killing the CRM’s most powerful leader right here and now certainly qualifies as putting a major wrench in Richonne's plan, and so Rick has to quickly cover his tracks by telling Pearl that Beale went to the woods alone.

gif cred: @andy-clutterbuck

Then he sees a crate and gets an idea on how to remove the body which leads to another elevator scene. And while that lovely elevator scene in episode 4 was lighthearted and steamy, this next elevator scene is pure suspense. 😨👌🏽

[lightlycareless]

How do you think make up sex with Naoya would be? 🫣🤭

Heya anon 😏

Well, I hope this will offer some insight.... (more at the end)

warnings: smut. MINORS DNI. breeding kink I believe. Naoya would give you everything in the whole universe just to make you happy.

Make up sex with Naoya normally occurs after he teased the living hell out of you, and you got really annoyed by it. And of course, the way for him to fix that is to proceed by teasing you even more…

But let’s make it a bit more serious, let’s say Naoya acted stupidly, said something he shouldn’t have and instead of apologizing, made it worse. Probably prodded at an insecurity of yours.

Or more specifically, didn’t defend you from his imprudent family.

“You know I don’t like it when your family says that!” you’d gasp once the two are alone, eyes silently telling him you wished to speak. “Why didn’t you do anything?”

“What was I supposed to do? You know how they are—it’s better to just stop wasting your energy and ignore them.”

“I don’t think ignoring them is doing any good anymore! By doing nothing it’s like we’re telling them there’s no consequences to their actions!” you snap back.

“I’m not going to spend my efforts on fighting a useless battle! There’s nothing I can say or do to make them change their mind! If you want to do that, go ahead!”

“So what? You’re just going to leave me alone, then?”

“Don’t say things I didn’t say.” He frowns. “You know damn well I wouldn’t do that.”

“Then you should at least try to do something… or am I not worthy of that either?”

“Where did that even come from?? Do you even know what you’re saying?!” Naoya scowls.

“… I don’t want to talk anymore.” You say, quickly turning around and retreating, faster than Naoya could attempt to hold you back.

Though honestly, he lets you go, for he too is bothered by the way this conversation went on, a seemingly silly issue that shouldn’t have gotten that much attention to begin with (before his eyes, at least) moving on to focus on his other duties instead, thinking that in time you’ll come around.

You have to, since you were well aware that his family had always been like that: with their annoying, unwanted commentary. It’s not like you ignored that, nor accepted it when marrying him!

But though you knew what you were getting into, he was greatly miscalculating your willingness to tolerate it, for everyone had limits, especially for someone who grew up in a completely different environment to him.

Just as it did today.

Yet, what Naoya believed to be the problem, it turned out to simply the tip of the iceberg when it came to your feelings, the issue being much bigger, deeper, always, than what was seen at a simple glance—and that much he’d understand when the day went on and you were nowhere to be found, besides your shared bedroom.

Naoya was elated to see you on the bed, fearing that he wouldn’t given your prolonged absence, yet, as much as he wished to convince himself everything was fine, it wasn’t.

He wasn’t to simply lay down next to you and act like nothing ever happened. Move past this issue without speaking about it, or without feeling wrong about it.

Guilty, in other words.

So, your husband does his best to close that gap between the two, let you know how sorry he was…

If not by his words, then by his actions.

“Y/N.” Naoya would murmur. You know it’s serious when he doesn’t call you by any of the millions of pet names he has for you, but still, as much as he wished to portray assertiveness, you do not acknowledge him immediately. “I’m sorry, you know that right?”

“No. I don’t.” you snap quickly, and Naoya, who now laid down on the bed, proceeds to embrace you—only for you to try and move away, failing in the process. “Naoya—”

“What? I’m just getting more comfortable.” He adds nonchalantly, resting his chin in the crook of your neck in the same manner. Hands just below your waist, he pulls your hips towards his, keeping you close and steady even when trying your best to fight against him. “This is my bed too, you know?”

You frown, letting out a small grunt in return before eventually accepting your unwanted fate.

After a few seconds of quiet and realizing you were not to do anything else, Naoya acts next by moving his hands further down your body, fingers taking in the softness of your nightgown (incomparable to your skin, he notes) before stopping just by your thighs, fingers quickly clinging to the edge of the fabric and lifting it up, just enough so his hand could gain access to your underwear, and soon enough, your mound.

“Naoya!’ you cry, tensing when feeling the touch of his fingers hovering over your slit, before pushing past it and deep into your slick, warm walls. “Stop—”

“I’m just checking how she’s faring.” Naoya adds, rubbing his clothed member against the cleft of your ass, giving you a tease of what is yet to come. “He wants to know too, hm?”

You always hated the ridiculous way he had when referring that; it was childish, stupid, and above all embarrassing…

But most of all, you also hated how hot it got you, the lewd connotation making your walls tighten for the slightest of seconds, a gesture that did went by unnoticed from Naoya given how he chuckled, further sliding down your panties, enough so he’d be able to do the same with his pants and move his cock in between your thighs, right next to your slit—he smiles the fact that, even when upset, your body will never deny it’s true feelings for him.

“D—Don’t move…!” you whine when he starts to do so, the heat of his member rubbing against your slit, alongside the girth and the hardness itself makes you instinctively tighten your thighs, pressuring his cock in a way that makes his movements falter for a second before continuing, exactly the opposite of what you asked. “You shouldn’t—”

“But we’re the ones having problems, my mochi.” He murmurs against your ear, you could feel him smiling, clearly enjoying teasing you. “Our issues shouldn’t come in between them.”

“Stop saying that!” You gasp at the particularly harsh trust that gives you a jolt of pleasure, instinctively leaning back onto him as you struggle to reject his advances or succumb to them. “It’s—It’s weird!”

“Yet, the truth.” Naoya adds, his hands sliding their way up to your breasts and comfortably resting them there, occasionally kneading and pinching them in the way he knew you loved, though you’d always whine otherwise, further igniting your guilty pleasure. “They never like it when we get angry, princess… me neither; so why must we hurt them?”

“Naoya—I’m going to—you should—” you grith your teeth, trying your best to hold back the orgasm building up in your cunt. “I don’t want—to—"

“I know—I can feel it.” He smiles, pressing a kiss against your cheek before giving you another sharp trust and making you shriek. “See? They feel so good together, and when they’re apart they always miss each other so terribly… so why put them through that painful endeavor, when we can always be like this?”

At the feeling of his and your orgasm fast approaching, the heir quickens his pace, the air soon filled with the lewd noises of his body slamming against yours, followed by his breathy grunts and your whines that solely demonstrated how deep both were getting into their carnal enjoyment.

“Or feel like this every night? All day too, if you want.”

It wouldn’t take long after that, just a few more thrusts and squeezes before he finally cums, cock twitching as it spurts his seed into your soft, warm thighs, engulfed soon after by the slick of your cunt, a sensation that has you instinctively clamping even more around his member and Naoya moaning louder while resting his face deep into your neck.

He keeps you so until your release eventually dissipates, alongside your breath slowing down, and soon enough, silence.

Naoya hoped that by his gestures he was granted the opportunity of an apology, the reflection of his true feelings and the understanding of how much you truly meant to him—and perhaps on a deeper, selfish level, a repeat of this endeavor, hopefully from your desire as well.

But far from obtaining the simplest indication of the former, he gets a soft, almost undetectable sniffle instead, which to his anxious, attentive ears was nothing but loud, making him tense up and immediately rush to your aid.

“Y/N, what’s wrong? Did you—did you not like it?” or worse. “Did I hurt you?”

Not necessarily, at least not at this moment.

Having spent the past few hours ruminating on your last discussion with him, you get back to your room tired, still battling through the turmoil of whether to continue being angry with him or simply move past this issue and accept that indeed, you knew what his family was like.

But sensitive from this battle, his actions would provide you the last piece needed to achieve an answer, reminded of how much you truly loved him, enjoyed spending time with him, day and night, anytime whenever possible—and how hurtful it would be to not be with him anymore.

Especially for issues caused by others, ones that perhaps maybe wasn’t even yours to struggle with, yet still affected this relationship.

Now you agree that this was a situation that shouldn’t have grown as much as it did; you shouldn’t have avoided him for the rest of the day, and Naoya shouldn’t have acted as dismissively as he did.

Both should’ve instead communicated, expressed the things that bothered the two from this problem and worked on a solution from there.

But if there was a silver lining to make out of this moment, is the realization that even when anger clouds their judgement, they still looked for one another, for love prevailed far more than any obstacles life might send their way.

“I never wanted to be angry at you!” you sob, now allowing your tears to freely fall down your cheeks, the same as your emotions. “And for something so stupid too! You were right, I know what your family is like, and yet, I still allow it to bother me and take it out on you too! Like you’re responsible for their actions! I’m so sorry for all I did—It’s all my fault—”

“No, Y/N, I’m the one that should be sorry.” Naoya murmurs, hugging you tighter against him. Your cries will always feel like a stab against his heart, no matter how many times he hears them. “I should’ve been more sensitive with my approach, especially with something I know only hurts you.”

“…Not all of your family hurts me.” You sniffle, reaching for his hand and intertwining his fingers with yours. “I didn’t mean it that way.”

“But enough of it does.” He answers, squeezing your hand. “I promised to keep you safe and happy, and yet the place that is supposed to do that only brings you harm.”

“It was never issue for me to do so.” You confess. “I wanted to do this so you can continue your duties as heir, and eventually, leader. But sometimes… It’s just too much.”

“If that is the reason of your suffering, I can do that somewhere else. I can make it possible—I’d rather die than to see you like this.”

“Don’t say that.” You frown, he chuckles. “But… will you do that for me? Would you really do something that will anger your family… just for me?”

Wouldn’t be the first time, nor the last.

“The only thing I fear is that I might need time to arrange something different.” Naoya adds. “But for a long time, my family has only been you—it might take a while before I can get a house where it’ll only be us, but I’m determined nonetheless, if… you’re willing to wait for me.”

You slowly turn around to see him, a smile on your face as you gently hold his face. “I waited years to marry you, surely I can wait a bit more.”

Naoya’s heart tightens at your words, motivating him to turn you over completely so he could get a better look at you, before leaning down to take your lips into a soft kiss.

“Though I will not make you wait any longer to show how much I love you.” Naoya reassures, taking your lips into another kiss and marking the mere beginning of his promise to cherish you through thick and thin, which his heart always knew he was meant for since seeing you for the first time all those years ago.

“Naoya—don’t—don’t do it so quickly.” You gasp, tightly holding onto the blankets beneath you as he heatedly slams his hips against you from behind, pushing his cock as deep and deeper as possible, bruising your cervix each time and making you shriek in response. “It’s—It’s too much—!”

“It’s only my love for you, princess.” He groans, completely hypnotized by the way your ass jiggles whenever slamming into you; so tempting, Naoya naturally needs to raise his hand and strike it, leaving behind for you to always remember in the subsequent days who is the only one that can make you feel this way.

Whom you belong to.

“But if you don’t want it, I can simply—”

“No!” You gasp, leaning back onto him the moment he begins to slide out from you, a reacting that has him laughing, amused by your debauchery. “Don’t you dare leave!”

A reward is only expected with a wife so dutiful…

“Can you feel that? —Can you feel my cock deep inside you?”

You whine, agreeing with his words as you continue to move against him, the mere thought of being empty is enough to fill you with unparalleled eagerness, which you did not hesitate to show.

“Nnghh, Naoya—you’re so—you’re so big—!” you gasp, and your words alongside your lovely whines, make him grow even harder. “Ah, it’s—it’s getting bigger—how?!”

“Because you keep squeezing me like that.” He growls against your ear, taking your breasts into his hand and kneading them tightly, you cry. “That’s what you do to me, my wife—your lewd cunt is squeezing me so tightly, it’s like you don’t want to let go.”

“I don’t want to….!” You whine. “Don’t stop, please don’t stop—I’m going to die if you do!"

“Keep saying that, whore—keep telling me what you deserve.”

“My pussy—my pussy deserves your hard, hot cock!”  you breathe.

“It's like falling in love with you all over again.” he murmurs.

“I love you, Naoya.” You gasp, mind hazy from the pleasure yet keeping you conscious enough to keep seeking him. “I love you so, so much…  I never want to be away from you!”

“You won’t.” He darkly promises, having long made up his mind on how exactly he plans to do that. “I won’t let you—!”

Naoya’s hips begin to move faster and faster, each time his cock prodding onto your sensitive spot that he knows will have you undone in a matter of seconds, just around the same time he comes to the conclusion that will ultimately make his promise real.

“I’m going to get you pregnant.” He darkly declares, gritting his teeth as he pushes his cock deeper as he utters those words. “I’m going to fill you with my seed until you have a baby—and even then, I’ll keep filling you until all you could think is when you’ll get pregnant again.”

“Nao—Naoyaaa…!” you moan at his promise, his words washing over you with another layer of pleasure you never considered possible, although the thought has crossed your mind before, bothered you enough late at night, wondering about the arduous attempts the two would have to commit to make it happen…

“I can’t wait to see your breasts full of milk—I bet it’ll taste just as sweet as your cunt.”

“Don’t—Don’t say that!” you shriek, feeling impossibly lewder at his connotation and tightening even more your walls, making his breath hitch.

“But it’s true.” He groans, moving his hand down to your clit and beginning to rub it eagerly once feeling your orgasm just a few instances away, frantically desiring to be engulfed by the choking sensation his cock deserves after it’s diligent work. “All that comes from you is unbearably sweet…”

“I’m—I’m going to—I’m going to cum!”

“Do it. Do it now!” Your husband hisses. “Cum, Y/N!”

A few thrusts later, you do, followed by a quick gasp and a long groan, the knot in your stomach snapping undone and making your vision go white, eyes rolling to the back of your head as you moan, falling limp onto the bed while Naoya’s seed fills you to the brim, the burning promise to make you pregnant reiterated by his lips taking yours into a heated kiss…

“Can you—Can you feel that?” he murmurs, cock twitching as it spurts the last ropes of his cum. “It’s my love for you. And now, our baby…”

“Naoya…” you whine, squeezing your walls ever so slightly when feeling him twitch; he groans. “I want it—I want your babies…”

“Take it—take all of it—” he smiles, looking down to your cunt. “Looks like she also wants that—can you see how eager she is to milk me?”

You glance downwards, eyes hazy by pleasure but still capable enough to see what he meant, unwilling to deny his words… before gasping when realizing the gravity of what transpired next.

“Naoya! It’s spilling! Don’t let it spill!”

“If you think we’re done, you’re gravelly mistaken.” He smirks, fingers quickly cleaning up his seed and pushing deep into your cunt, where it belongs, before adjusting you into the next position. “I’ll give you as much as you want, my love, whatever is necessary to make you a mommy.”

You moan when he begins to move again, feeling impossibly fuller the deeper his cock went, an endeavor that would go on and on until you were unequivocally reassured of his feelings for you, his immeasurably desire…

As well as the first semblance of a future together, hopefully soon, as a family.

“I love you.” You breathe once he finally unsheathes himself from you, many hours later from the beginning, as you laid beside him and rested your head over his chest.

“I love you too.” Naoya responds, wrapping his arm over your shoulders and holding you tight, his head resting over yours while his hand made way to your full stomach. “And our baby.”

“It’s still too soon, love.” You say, gently reaching for his hand, smiling. “But hopefully it’ll take…”

“Guess we’ll have to do it a few more times, just to be sure.” He chuckles, you pout.

“I don’t think I can fit any more, I feel so full already…” His cock invertedly twitches at the thought of proving you wrong, which you don’t fail to catch immediately after. “Naoya? We’ve just—it’s 3 in the morning!”

“Then why did you say something like that?” he asks, already adjusting you into position yet again. “If you wanted to rest, then perhaps you should control your words.”

“I didn’t even say anything!” you gasp, cunt twitching when he rubs the head of his cock against your slit. “Naoya— I don’t think—I don’t think I can take anymore! What’s gotten into you? Aren’t you tired?!"

But for a man like Naoya, that was impossible.

To ask him to be tired of his beautiful wife, the same one that has endlessly doted on him, shown him a world of color where previously all he’s seen was darkness, as well as demonstrated the future the two could create, by simply setting their minds into it, was like asking him to stop breathing.

He just couldn’t, because doing so would kill him.

And all for one particular reason:

 “I’m not, Y/N.”

“H—how?!”

“Because I simply love you too much.”

This could really go down like a:

Naoya: My wife is angry... what can I do? Oh, I know! *gets her pregnant*

I mean you do want to have a family with him!! but not like that hahaha.

Anyways, I've had this thought for a while but guess it finally came out with this small drabble: The Zen'in estate is not a good place to have a family lmao. I keep writing our favorite couple there but lets be real, Naoya wouldn't want her there.

Naomi is out of the question too! I literally just thought about how neither you or Naoya would allow her to have sleepovers at the estate because the Zen'in are just a bunch of pricks.

I like to think that he'll either have a whole area secluded for his family, or just live somewhere else. Maybe when he's leader tho he'll change a lot of things.

Anyways, I hope you enjoyed this small thing!! Naoya and his domineering ways will always come to bite you in the butt some way or another much to your dismay, but it'll also be the reason you remember why you love him so much 🥺

Take care, and hope to see you soon!!

[cinnamonest]

Yandere Profile - Kaveh

Happy birthday baby boy. Angel. Blessed boy. I want to hold his face in my hands and squish. I love a man that's just a lil bit pathetic, as all men should be. If I can't occasionally point at a man and laugh what's even the point

(Also I added a question to the list that I'll be using in all future profiles as well ^_^)

//dubcon/noncon, yandere, fem reader, manipulative behavior, n/s/fw section + implications/mentions of not sfw throughout

------

What are they generally like? Lucid, aware? Obsessive? How do they behave?

Kaveh falls head over heels, face-first, and he tries so, so hard. It's pitiful, really.

He's somewhat on the milder side in terms of what he'll actually do to you and others, provided you comply with him and don't give him reasons to become worse. He's just... very, very intense. In lots of ways, he's a very ideal partner to have, so much so that there's a very good chance you'll end up together of your own volition, making him more of an over-attached boyfriend than a stalker from a distance.

At the very least, even if not a romantic partnership, he will surely become an active part of your life very quickly. Which you likely won't mind, given his pleasant disposition and empathetic nature. What's not to like? Compared to a roster full of individuals ranging anywhere from unhinged and violent to cold or cruel to prideful and infuriating, Kaveh feels like a breath of fresh air. He's considerate, he's empathetic, he really likes making you happy. He recognizes his feelings very early on and has no trouble understanding them, so there's not a lot of time that passes between meeting you and trying to get closer to you. It doesn't take a lot to get him infatuated, either, namely just showing him some kindness.

A waitress or bartender that he sees regularly that's always sweet to him, a stranger that calls out to him to give him something he dropped, a former classmate he still sees around sometimes, pretty much anything, he just latches on to any gesture or display of kindness or affection. Kaveh has the same vibe as a stray cat -- you feed it once, and watch it come back again and again until it just decides to permanently stick around you, only he feeds off of smiles and nice words and gestures. He's always conveniently showing up where you are, trying to brush it off as if he's surprised to see you there.

And again, it's head over heels, boy is in love, the sort of love where he's going around in this smiling daze all the time, mind off somewhere else to the point that he hmm?'s every time someone is trying to talk to him. He asks around about you to people who know you, starts showing up a short ways outside your door and greeting you in the mornings (you never told him where you live, though), starts making small mistakes in his work that he has to go back and fix because his mind was preoccupied with you. He also starts following you around a bit, just to a degree that he feels is still normal. He's not, like, some creep or anything.

Which is how he rationalizes things to himself -- he's well aware of his own feelings, yes, and he's not really a full-blown delusional type per se, but he does have a tendency to rationalize abnormal actions to himself, convince himself that certain things he does are okay or normal or reasonable when they very much are not. Or sometimes, he can acknowledge something is in fact not normal or okay, but he lies to himself that it's just this once and he won't do it again (he will), that everyone makes poor decisions or does some not-so-good things every now and then, or that he's doing what he does for good reasons, which justifies the action itself. It's a specific sort of delusion wherein he maintains lucidity and objective perception of everything else -- he doesn't think that everyone else who likes you is actually super evil and has malicious intent if they clearly don't, nor does he convince himself that you must love him, or anything like that -- it's limited to rationalizing his own actions.

And even then, it's fairly weak, not so much true delusion, because in the back of his mind, he doesn't actually believe it, it's just what he tells himself for a time to feel better about what he does. Even so, it can't last forever, and eventually he gives up and just has to live with the guilt. Thus, it gradually progresses to following you more and more, taking some things that won't be missed, and maybe he might or might not have climbed into your room and laid on your bed for a while because you left the window unlocked. Which is bad, but he won't do it again, it was just a one-time thing, really.

While he does rationalize acts he knows are considered "bad," he also engages in other behaviors he isn't quite as self-aware of, including both clingy tendencies as well as other behaviors that aren't noticed by anyone else, but he fails to stop and realize how abnormal and unwell said behaviors are. For the clinginess aspect, the closer to you he gets, the more comfortable he gets with complaining about his frustrations and stressors onto you, and frankly, he can get a bit whiny. It's not intentional, it's just that he doesn't have a lot of outlets, and he's under so much stress and you're so nice to him and you don't stop him from drinking so he just starts to go on and on and on, eventually leaning over onto you as he continues on about his woes. Sometimes for very long periods of time, if you don't stop him. He likes the attention and sympathy you never fail to give him.

Which tends to happen a lot anyway, since you notice the poor thing seems rather prone to misfortune and mishap, at least whenever you see him. There was that time he showed up to you all scraped up, forearms covered in little cuts because of, when you inquired, apparently helping that traveler friend of his fight some common criminals as part of some mission or another. He didn't bother to take care of the wounds in any way, seeing as they were fairly minor, but you started fussing about infections and insisted he come over and sit down and let you wrap them up and treat it to the best of your ability.

You poor thing, you said. He can recall the softness and concern in your voice. You said something about how he should be more careful, that he could come back to you if he got hurt again, that he must be rather brave and strong to get into fights like that. He doesn't remember all the exact words due to the dizzy fuzzy warm feeling all over. You only recall that he started to show up to your home within a few days with significantly worse wounds, which you once again worried and fretted over and tended to for his sake. It becomes something of a routine. You think to yourself that it's sweet that he smiles the whole time despite being hurt. You assume it's forced so as to not make you worry more.

Also, Kaveh has a drive to learn about the things he likes, more intensely so than the average person. He's been academically successful for a variety of reasons, such as being both naturally suited for at and passionate about his craft, but also possessing the general ability to intake, retain, understand, and apply information. And when it comes to you, he undergoes an experience very much akin to how he used to discover some area of special interest in his field while studying, he'd come across and become fascinated by a certain style or era of architecture or the like, and spend days on end absorbing information on it.

Similarly, he feels a compulsion to know you, to learn everything he can in relevance to you. He takes any available avenues to do so, be it from others, from quietly observing you and your behaviors and habits, normal things... and maybe some more intrusive things. It can't be that private of a conversation, since you know he's supposed to be in the other room, so it can't be that big of a deal if he just quietly shuffles his way over and puts his ear to the door, just to listen in on who you're talking to. And if you wrote things that were really that private or secret, you wouldn't leave your journal sitting right there on your desk, you'd hide it away somewhere, so it can't be that bad to read it.

Regardless of those more secretive behaviors, his outward, non-secretive behaviors are a lot more obvious than he realizes, so much so that you're not at all surprised when he finally does muster up the courage to say something to you. He's also rather nervous and consequently awkward, at least when sober. He's like a little schoolboy trying to confess to a playground crush, stumbles over his words, lots of nervous smiling.

Still, you're fairly inclined to accept. He's always been so sweet, he's pretty, you see no reason not to, and he seems positively elated when you agree. The poor thing is in such a daze that he walks headfirst into a lamppost after walking you home and parting for the night (you laughed, but you still ran over to help him back up). Sure, he's a bit clingy, that much is already obvious, but you figure he'll calm down at least a little bit once you start seeing each other more.

That, however, turns out to not be the case. Quite the opposite.

The most noticeable behavior from the get-go is that he is almost a bit too attached, and he develops a bit of a dependency very quickly. Now, it's more acceptable for him to know where you are and be around you and all that, so he makes sure to do so at every opportunity. To an even greater degree than before, which turns out to be somehow possible. He moves very very fast, in terms of a relationship. You've heard the phrase I love you within a few days, he wants to move in together within no time, he's spending what little extra money he has on you at every opportunity from the get-go. Sure, there's a "honeymoon phase" where it's normal to be super clingy to each other, but it quickly becomes clear his is not dying down any time soon.

And he cares about you so much, so it's okay for him to want to know where you are if he can't find you, to get a bit upset and frustrated with you when you disappear for fifteen minutes because you went to the store to pick up something and didn't tell him (or, ideally, take him with you). Which you can dismiss and blow off as him just being stressed or anxious once or twice, but it soon becomes clear you can't so much as leave his line of sight for a few minutes without him going to look for you.

Then starts the isolation from others. Sure, you could go out with your friends, but he forgot you had that planned and may or may not have gotten takeout for both of you, so you can miss it this once, right? And then the next time, it's that it's just that you all are planning to meet so late at night, and he doesn't feel comfortable with that kind of risk... so on and so on. You soon realize you haven't spent time with anyone else in quite some time. Whenever you do talk to someone, he always wants to know who they are and what you talked about. He doesn't demand to know, or sound angry or anything, he just... asks. Just out of curiosity, you know.

He just wants to be with you, spend time with you, talk to you, be involved in the little aspects of your daily life. It's just that that means... everything. All the time. Every single second of every single day. Even the phrase "every waking second" doesn't quite cover it, because he'll be there every second of your sleep as well, clinging to you tightly. He wants to be there when you wake up, and when you get ready in the mornings, and when you walk to your daily routine of work or school or whatever, and he'll linger and talk and talk until the last possible second, until you remind him for a third time that you're both going to be late if you don't go your separate ways, where he'll finally relent and wish you a good day. Then he starts to make sure he gets to eat lunch at the same time as you, so you see each other then too! And then he's right there to greet you as you leave for the day, and then you can walk home, and then he'll be there the whole evening, clinging to you both emotionally and physically, talking and cuddling and staying right there by your side, and then he'll ask if he can stay over for the night as he always does these days, and then you'll go to bed and he won't leave your side all night long. And of course, he'll bring up the idea of moving in with you yet again, that he could pitch in for the rent and it would save you both money, and you'll give a vague non-answer because you're not quite ready for that but don't want to hurt his feelings, deflect and try to change topics again. And then the cycle repeats.

Day after day. Without relent. Endlessly. To say it's starting to affect you psychologically would be an understatement.

Of course, with all the unfavorable aspects combined, you might just start to think that maybe you made a mistake, maybe you should think about suggesting you take a break...

Except he seems to kind of sense that. Even if it's just subconscious, he sort of detects your body language and recent behaviors and realizes something has you unhappy or discontent or just distant from him. It makes him feel this awful pit of dread in his stomach, the mere notion makes him sick. You wouldn't ever leave him, though, would you?

He was already attached to you beforehand, but now, his entire happiness and sense of purpose depends on you. You become his entire world, the only thing that really matters. The only thing he really thinks about or cares about. If, for whatever reason, you were to suddenly disappear from his life... well, then he would have nothing left. His passion for his work alone can't keep him going, now that he's had a taste of the euphoric feeling of such intense emotion towards someone. Nothing else will ever compare. You wouldn't do that to him.

But just in case. Whenever he gets this feeling like you're getting distant or like you're going to soon tell him something he doesn't want to hear, he makes sure that he has something prepared to prevent the worst. Expensive gifts he scraped enough together for, planning some big night that will make you happy, doing some significant act of service or favor for you. Something that wins over your favor, makes sure you remember you love him and don't ever think of leaving him. Or maybe even just holding you close and reminding you that you're everything to him, that he needs you, that he wouldn't know how to keep going if he didn't have you. Just to make sure you know how much you'd hurt him, how awful you would be, if you ever got any ideas about not needing him as much as he needs you.

How likely are they to kidnap their darling? How quickly will they do so?

Kidnapping is something that would only ever be a last resort. Kaveh ideally wants something very close to a normal relationship. In his mind, what he wants is a normal relationship, he's just... maybe a bit clingier and more protective than most. But otherwise, he's very normal!

Nothing unusual, he just wants to... move in together. Get a place together that he can pay part of (eventually he'll make enough to pay for it all by himself, so he promises). Or you can even just move in with him where he is now! It'll be, uh, awkward, but Alhaitham will probably be okay with it. You've already spent a lot of nights there, and he's only told Kaveh to go over to your place instead so he can 'get at least one night without having to sleep with earpieces in for once, you do realize I can hear literally everyth--' well, anyway, he's only been driven to the point of saying that a handful of times, so as long as you're careful with the, uh, timing, it should be fine.

The whole moving in together thing does get sprung on you very fast, like, a matter of maybe a week at minimum. A bit too fast, so you can gently put him down and try to hold off for a while, but he'll take the first opportunity you allow, and with enough pushing, you're bound to agree eventually.

Which makes him very happy. Now he can be around you that much more.

He does have some ideas, though, to gently suggest to you, on your future and how the relationship should work and all that. He saves up enough to decide that you don't need to work or have a job, you can stay at home and take care of domestic stuff and not have to worry about ever leaving. Oh, well, you can leave to get groceries and stuff, just... don't go by yourself, okay? Let him go with you. That way you'll never have to be alone outside without him, that's all. You know, he read this headline on a public news board the other day, said pickpocketing and theft in the area has been rising, so you know, just to be safe, you never know who's out there. Best to just not go out in public alone. And if you really do have to go meet someone or get something alone, just be sure to let him know. In fact, here's a fun idea, how about each morning you give him an hour-by-hour plan of what you anticipate doing that day? Just so he can have an idea of where you'll be, just for safety's sake. And be sure to be there at this and that time, since he'll use his breaks to come back and check on you, and he would get really worried if you weren't exactly where he anticipates you to be, you know?

As long as you can mutually agree to be safe by following those little guidelines, everything will be fine, he won't have any reason to worry, and he'll be content. Should you disregard his suggestions, though, he might get a bit more paranoid. Check on you more often. Try to talk it out, just let you know that, hey, he would really appreciate it if you could do like he asked you to and stick to the plan, he just worries about you is all. You understand that, don't you? He'll have to continuously bring it up the more you deviate from that plan, and maybe he'll have to, in is own words, 'get a bit annoying about it, haha...'

There is, however, one way that could potentially get you truly imprisoned in the classic obsessive-lover sense: attempting to go through with those thoughts of yours about leaving him.

You don't actually get to finish your spiel, when you try to bring it up and lay it on him as gently as possible. It's very obvious where you're headed, what you're about to say, so there's no need to let you finish talking, to make it all too real and actually be forced to hear the words he'd rather not. You can already see his face fall, his eyes get wide. It's... it's actually kind of creepy, unnerving and unsettling in a visceral way, a way that sends a genuine chill down your spine, like some instinct telling you something is very, very wrong. You find yourself trailing off and going quiet before you can even get the words out.

You instinctively take a step back when he moves towards you, but he's faster. Locks his hands around your wrists with a crushing grip. His face is completely blank, pupils small from having widened eyes.

You don't... you don't mean that.

HIs voice is eerily quiet and soft. You try to pull back, but his grip is unrelenting. You say something else, but he acts as if he doesn't hear you. Pulls you along as he starts to walk. Doesn't respond when you ask what he's doing. You feel a sense of alarm growing heavier in your chest. He pulls you into your shared bedroom.

I think we both need to just calm down for a while.

His voice is still ominously quiet, devoid of emotion. You try to step back, but he pulls you forward again. Lays down, takes you with him. Holds you tight, runs a hand up and down your back, slow soothing motions, totally silent. A moment ago you were trying to end things, but you suddenly feel very, very nervous at the thought of saying anything further, some instinct telling you that trying to break away or insist on leaving would be a very, very bad idea. You don't like the thought of that, the implications of the fact that you're pretty sure it's your innate danger and self-preservation instincts telling you to stay quiet. You find yourself trembling in his hold.

And after a while like that, he finally says something.

I really love you.

You know what the appropriate response is. Even if you're filled with resentment and irritation, those same self-preservation instincts force out the correct response. He sighs when you say it, like he was afraid of hearing something else.

I'm... glad. See, we just needed to relax for a moment. That's all.

And when he stands up, smiling again, you think the moment is over, that the eye-opening momentary episode of whatever the hell that was is done and you can escape. But then, he gently pushes you back onto the bed.

I think... you need to stay in here for now. I'll be back in just a little while with some food, okay?

Once more, the instincts tell you not to resist, at least not now. O-oh, uh... okay...

He hums in response and smiles, and for a moment, you think everything is fine now, that maybe he's just emotional and in a bad state of mind, maybe he'll come back and apologize, maybe he'll finally agree that this isn't working out and wish you the best... but when he shuts the door and you hear the distinct sound of heavy furniture scraping against the floor as something is pushed in front of the door, a sinking feeling of dread swells in your stomach. Another instinct, somehow even worse than your prior fear, tells you you won't be leaving this room for a long time.

How difficult is it to escape from them? How do they keep you restrained? How do they deal with attempted escape? 

Because he doesn't really want to restrain you much in the first place, the only thing really holding you in any given place, at least initially, is his gentle suggestions on where you should or shouldn't be, and specifically some very strong urging to stay away from certain places or people. Really, the biggest hurdle is his presence, seeing as he clings to you so much, it's hard to get away, and he'll do everything in his power to stop you from leaving if he's right there, namely standing in between you and your path, trying to change the subject or stuttering to find something to say to distract you and deter you from leaving.

Should you try to slip away and get a little bit of time to yourself, it probably won't last long. Firstly, he notices your absence near-immediately, and seems to have some innate ability to find you, like a bloodhound or something. You didn't give him any hints or implications as to where you'd be going, yet somehow he manages to show up there as his first guess of places to look...? The only possibility that actually makes sense is that he's obsessively learned your own mental process tendencies to such a degree that he was able to predict your own conscious choices, which frankly terrifies you in its own way, so you choose to believe it's coincidence.

He always calms down once he does find you, but he stays quiet as you head home (he insists you go home right now, and the unusual, almost out of character intensity to the command makes you nervous enough to comply). Once home, he'll go through his usual cycle of being cold and quiet, then expressing his feelings all in one frustrated rant. Holds onto you, buries his face in the crook of your neck.

This is where one of his talents comes in -- albeit largely a subconscious behavior, he's masterful at guilt-tripping. Keeps talking about how he was so worried, how he doesn't understand why you want to hurt him like this, he cares so much about you and it feels like that means nothing to you, on and on it goes. Any irritation on your part is met with more and more guilt-tripping, sucking you down until you can't be mad or express your own frustrations that led to this for long because come on, look at him, he's looking like a wounded puppy and talking about how much he loves you, how can you be so mean? It's not asking a lot, is it? Are you really mad that he cares so much about you...?

No? Now you sigh and shake your head and get out something about how you're sorry, but-- You don't get to finish the sentence, though. He's already wrapped his arms around you, smiling and assuring you he'll try to be around more so he can take you wherever. Just... don't do this to him again, okay? The way he grips your shoulders like he's trying to break them when he says it makes you inclined to stutter out an agreement out of impulse, even if you regret saying it a moment later.

How easy are they to trick, deceive, or manipulate?

It's easy enough on a purely practical level, but honestly, it's hard to not feel guilty for doing so, given how sincere and loving he is. He's pretty gullible, it's not hard to fool him. He'll just get really sad once he realizes you did, in fact, lie to him. Or, if you lie about something like where you'll be or what you'll be doing because you didn't want him to get all worried and paranoid (such as going out with friends, which always makes him very paranoid), he gets nervous. If it's bad enough, it might be one of the few occasions where he really raises his voice and gets upset, asking you what you were thinking and why you didn't listen to him, why you couldn't just talk it out, and so on. But his anger very quickly gives way to being rather hurt and bitter, resulting in him isolating himself and sulking for some time. He takes a few days to get over the sense of betrayal, but his recovery is expedited if you try to make it up to him or apologize for it. Apologizing is especially a wise move -- even though he tries to be understanding and often tries to agree to whatever you want to make you happy, when it comes to things like this, where it's a matter of your wellbeing or a moral issue, he really toughens up and becomes much more firm in his resolve, even stubborn, when it comes to things of that nature.

And as easy as lying to him is, manipulating him is even easier, you barely have to try. Just give him a little bit of affection and talk to him in a sweet cooing voice, and he'd walk off a cliff if you asked him to. You hold a lot of power in your hands. If you end up abusing it enough, he'll eventually realize he's being manipulated... but even then, he can't bring himself to stop. He just loves you so much, he lives for the high he gets from hearing you thank him and hug him and kiss him for doing things for you. You can even convince him to do morally bad things for you, if you push him enough, although he'll be sullen and sad afterwards, so if you have a heart, try not to abuse this power.

And another thing. The moment sex is involved, he becomes somehow even more manipulable than he already was. An inch of bare skin or a few sweet suggestive words in a sultry voice will have him going red in the face before bending over backwards to do whatever you want and performing requested tasks at the speed of light, often without even thinking through what it is he's been roped into doing. It's rather cute and amusing, really. Again, please be careful with the power you hold.

How lenient are they? What privileges can you have, and what will you be denied?

He would like to allow you to do anything you want -- and he'd never force you to not do something you want, of course! -- but obviously, anyone who cares for someone has certain limits and boundaries, which are there because of love for someone. After all, if you love someone, you won't let them do something reckless and stupid or dangerous. If anything, allowing someone to do whatever without regard for safety would indicate apathy. That's why it's understandable -- you should be glad, even -- that he's very conscious of your well-being and risks thereof.

You can do pretty much anything, so long as it's inside. He'll spend whatever he has buying you anything you want to do, supports any non-dangerous hobbies. It's just... you can't go outside, not without him at least. He'll gladly take you anywhere you want as long as it's when he has free time, though! Just... just abide by this one simple request, please? That's the only thing he takes an issue with. You can dress however you want, act however you want, do whatever you want. He just doesn't want you putting yourself at risk is all.

What kind of rules do they have? What kind of punishment would they use?

Again, it's pretty much entirely about staying inside and not going out, and he would really appreciate you do that one thing for him. It's not asking a lot, right? Well, then there's all the checkups throughout the day and insistence on communication, but that all ties back to the same main rule. But to be honest, he really doesn't like thinking of it as a "rule," that word has this... authoritative, controlling connotation to it that he really doesn't like. It makes him feel guilty to think of it like that, like he's doing something wrong. He'd be really hurt if you referred to it that way.

Likewise, punishing you for not following something you both agreed to sounds a bit harsh. He'll try to talk with you about it, of course, communication and mutual understanding is important, and the key to a happy relationship. The only issue is you might not come to that mutual understanding. But even if you don't agree, he can't just let you do as you please, and put yourself in danger, as well as give him constant anxiety. If you can't seem to reach an understanding, he might just have to get an extra lock from the outside. You may call that unnecessary or absurd, but he's very insistent, and if confronted on it, will get huffy and cross his arms, say something about how it's incredible you're getting mad about him caring about you. He's good at overdramatizing like that to deflect from his own actions, to sort of shift the blame onto you. The more you try to bring it up, the more he'll talk over you, keep distracting and refuse to acknowledge the actual problem.

While he also doesn't call it a rule either, he also is really insistent that you communicate. He gets very paranoid if you won't talk to him, if you try to give him silent treatment or something like that. So if you pull this behavior a few times, he'll try to sit down and have a talk with you about how communicating is very important, and how when you refuse to speak to him it makes him really really nervous and he feels so sick to his stomach and his mind assumes the worst and the paranoia eats away at him and... well, just, can you both maybe agree to not do that? That when you're upset, you'll just tell him you are and why? Please?

He'll be very relieved if you agree, but do note that in practice, this rule actually only applies to you. He, on the other hand, will very commonly get quiet and refuse to elaborate on why he's upset without coaxing. But he tells you eventually once you give him the attention he wants, so, it counts as compliance with the agreement, in his mind.

How do they deal with rivals, or perceived rivals? Will they get rid of them? Will they kill them themselves, or find another way?

Kaveh would strongly prefer to avoid homicide if at all possible, and will go to great lengths to avoid it.  He's not a particularly confrontational or aggressive person at all. He's also self-aware enough to know that starting any actual up-front conflict with someone else would just be embarrassing himself, and you as well.

It's not as if there isn't a brief second where the thought does cross his mind, though. That it would be so much easier to deal with everything if he could just permanently get rid of someone.

But he's just not that sort of person. He's rational and empathetic, he's not the sort of obsessed that will convince himself the other person is committing a transgression worthy of death just by liking you. He knows that killing them would be an incredibly selfish, abhorrent act... and, of course, very much a crime, one that has the potential to ruin his life if found out.

He does try roundabout ways. He's a sweet person and most people like him, so he has heard his fair share of talk and gossip that circulates around the community. Ideally, he can find someone else that likes the person who likes you, encourage them to go for it and pursue the one they want, and everything works out perfectly. Well, that's how he envisions it in his head, but he knows it probably won't be that easy.

He puts himself to work trying every other angle he can. Digs around for information on the individual, trying to find some negative thing to use against them — a violation that could get them expelled or jailed, a secret he can post on a public bulletin and ruin their reputation, anything. He feels bad, of course, but it's the morally superior option to murder, and that thought helps him feel less guilty.

If worse comes to worse, he can still cause inconveniences. They're going to go meet up with you? Not with their keys hidden they aren't, preventing them from locking their door. He'll find countless little ways to sabotage, all in the hope that it will somehow ruin the relationship between the two of you... he'll feel bad, but it's worth it.

For him to ever actually, truly reach a point where killing is a realistic possibility, it would require a lot of pushing and desperation. He would have had to exhaust every other possible option, and feel that he's at a point where he'll lose you permanently unless he takes some form of drastic action. Even then, the downside of this is that he actually doesn't plan a murder, he ends up doing something spontaneous and impulsive out of a sudden panic response. There's an opportunity — they're standing at the edge of a railing they would die if they fell from, he knows which drink is theirs and there's pest poisons just sitting right there so temptingly, or something of that nature — and he just takes it on an impulse, only to process his own actions a second too late.

The downside of this is that the homicide will certainly be discovered, so it's not as if it's just a person gone missing, but it's just perfectly done enough that they never have any idea who might have done it, or, it may be written off as an accident, depending on the specifics. Nonetheless, you notice that you haven't seen Kaveh in a few days... turns out he's holed up in his home, with his roommate saying something must be wrong with him, because he's been sick and feverish... it's very unfortunate timing, seeing as you were hoping to go to him for some comfort over the loss of another friend, but you can just wait for him to feel better.

How easy is it to make them mad? What does their anger look like?

He may be sweet, but it's not really that hard to get him upset. He's rather patient, tries to be understanding. If you have some disagreement, he tries his best to be calm and see things from your perspective and all that. But there is a limit to his patience.

However, his poor moods aren't really what you'd call true anger, he's more prone to this quick cycle where he first gets frustrated and huffy, then sullen and sad and moody. The first stage is lots of heavy frustrated sighs, he crosses his arms and grinds his teeth. He doesn't yell or shout, but he does raise his voice just a bit, and it's clearly audibly irritated. Prone to using those phrases with "if" and "just" -- if you would just listen, or if we could just do that, then, or if they just leave you alone, so on and so on, creating these scenarios where his ideal is the most reasonable outcome, and it's dependent on you or someone else to meet some simple condition, at which point everything would work out perfectly, making you or some other person the only thing inhibiting said ideal outcome. If he's really, really mad, he doesn't want to end up saying something that would hurt you or anything, and he gets the impulse to just go walk it off and cool down, so he actually ends up storming off, muttering something about needing just a few minutes. It's actually one of the few times he ever leaves you alone, funnily enough. It doesn't last too long before he comes back, and that's only on rare occasions that he reaches that point.

After that first stage, after getting out the frustration, it gives way to feeling all sad and melancholy, so he tends to mope. And whine. And sulk. And wallow in feeling sorry for himself. And, if possible, drink the feelings away. It's kind of childish, really, and often overdramatic. If you're present and it's not you who made him feel that way to begin with, he doesn't actually outright say anything or ask for anything, but he goes out of his way to be extra mopey and sad and makes sure it's right within your field of vision, hoping you will give him attention and love and encouragement. Just sort of silently sits there all sad and waits for some attention. And yes, this means that if you haven't caught onto it due to being spaced out or focused on something else, and go into another room, he will sort of quietly trail behind you and go into the next room with you before sitting down and sulking again, until you finally catch on and give him the attention he craves.

If you are the reason he's all hurt, even unintentionally, he might resort to giving you a bit of silent treatment, with a similar goal: hope that you'll give him attention and ask what's wrong and then ask what's wrong again when he says 'nothing' and then gasp and apologize when he tells you and say you didn't mean what you did or said that way and hold him and kiss his forehead and... well, that's how it plays out in his head.

If you're trying to make him mad intentionally, though, he's likely to see through it, and again, he just gets hurt. Why are you being so mean? Did I do something? He actually gets really, genuinely hurt by this sort of behavior, and will likely make you feel so guilty for trying it that you cease and refocus your efforts to a different tactic.

How do they express affection, or attempt to endear themselves to you?

It would be easier to ask how he doesn't. He tries every angle, every means of expression, manages to have every "love language" simultaneously. He's always getting you various little gifts (how is he affording that?), always saying nice things, always doing things for you and helping you with any task you wish, always spending time with you (even if you don't want it), and if you'll allow it, he's very, very cuddly. While he does it all, he's especially focused on getting stuff for you, despite his lack of funds.

Maybe it's because it's just his preferred way of expressing his affection, but perhaps there's also a more manipulative side to it -- he knows that you know that he doesn't have a lot of money, so if you see that he's spending what little he does have on you, it will seem that much more significant, right? You'll notice, and then it will seem like an even bigger, more meaningful gesture because of that. You'll thus be more emotionally moved by the gesture, and you'll surely want to repay him with affection and attention. Whether that's just a natural exchange of sentiments or a subtly manipulative means of trying to win your favor, well, you can think whatever you like.

So they see you as above them, beneath them, or equal to them?

It somewhat depends on his mood. On better days, he'd like to just disregard such notions as "value" of an individual person, thinks the concept is shallow and meaningless, the sort of thing only either very prideful or very insecure people would even care to think about. Who cares what someone's "worth" is, or if someone is "better" or "worse" than someone else? As long as two people love each other, nothing else should matter, right?

But on worse days, when he's sulking and his thoughts wander to negative places, he starts to feel like you're better than him, to the extent it can make him depressed. When he's not in a good mood, he often lays around wallowing, deep in thought about how you can do so much better than him, there's no way you'd ever choose to stay with him permanently, and even if you do like him, surely someone better will come along and he'll lose you... sigh.

When he's in such a sulking mood, it's very outwardly obvious, he gets quieter than usual and a sad look on his face. So if you just give him a bit of reassurance, maybe a hug and cuddles and a kiss to the forehead and some sweet uplifting words (please), he'll perk right back up. Well, the thought will still be in the back of his mind, but he can't stay too sad when you're giving him attention. He'll just keep feeding off your reassurance for a while until the contentment from it runs out, and then he gets depressed again, and then you reassure him again, and, well, it cycles like that.

How determined are they for you to love them? How hard will they try to make it happen? Or are they content just having you?

If you haven't accepted him, he's still incredibly determined, in spite of a tendency to sometimes be pessimistic in his own thoughts about the matter. He bounces back and forth -- he'll undergo a brief sad spell thinking about how he'll never make you like him, but he comes out of it with newfound determination that he'll either win you over or die trying. This repeats over and over, at least until you show some semblance of affection or attention, which will serve as a fuel he manages to stretch out for an incredibly long time thereafter.

...And don't give him any ideas, because seriously, he will die trying. This man will put his own well-being at great risk for a chance to impress you. Seriously. He doesn't even really need you to do anything to push him, even. He will do something incredibly stupid and he will get himself hurt if you don't actively stop him from doing so. Over time you kind of develop a sixth sense, a radar where you can feel when he's about to do something stupid, so use it wisely.

If you do accept him and agree to be with him, he'd like to think you already do love him, but to be honest, he gets insecure pretty easily and, while he won't actually ask for it because he deems it too pathetic, he would very much appreciate if you remind him you love him on a regular basis.

Bonus: Is there anything that makes them unique, in comparison to other yanderes?

His reluctance to do anything he deems immoral does not combine well with his desire to secure you all to himself. The two don't exactly go hand-in-hand, it's difficult to ensure someone remains around you at all times and never interacts with anyone else without taking some unsavory measures to get to that point. Hence, he takes so many roundabout measures of getting the results he wants, and does so much by proxy -- not only does it prevent a lot of things from being tracked back to him, but it also alleviates himself of guilt. That alone sets him apart from the typical type of obsessive lover and their tendencies to kill, rape and kidnap without much hesitancy.

When he does engage in morally questionable behaviors and manipulative tactics, though, it's really not even intentional. That behavior isn't even necessarily a conscious choice, he doesn't really think about it or intend it to be part of some bigger picture of control, it's just that whenever you mention going out to see other people, or when he doesn't know where you are, or when you're paying more attention to something else than him, he gets this awful sick feeling and acts on impulses to soothe his nerves, which just so happens to be keeping you right by his side and ensuring he has your full attention. It's not malicious, or intentionally controlling or manipulative. He just cares so, so much and loves you so, so much and the behaviors just come out without him really putting any intentional thought into them, nor has it ever occurred to him as an afterthought. It just doesn't really cross his mind, he doesn't reflect on his own actions all that much.

If he was made aware of how manipulative he can be, forced to come to the realization of everything he's done, it would come as a bit of a shock to him, and would leave him more or less a psychological mess for a little while as he comes to terms with the fact that, despite his best conscious intentions, he's actually been pretty awful in some ways. He would come out of it swearing to himself to be better, thinking he will keep better track of himself in the future and think his actions through, that he'll make up for anything bad that he's done before... but, of course, the chances of that resolve lasting in the face of situational impulses is not that great, and in the heat of the moment, any thoughts he has that what he might be about to do is kind of distasteful behavior will be overridden by some momentary justification, which will be reinforced and repeated to himself afterwards to make himself feel better.

On a more wholesome note, Kaveh also gets really enthusiastic about your passions, talents and hobbies. He understands passion and dedication to a craft or art form, having the same experience himself, and gets really into supporting you in your endeavors, should you have anything of the sort. Whether it's something artsy like music or drawing or dance, or something more sport-related or science-related, doesn't really matter, he just really makes an effort to support you and encourage you. He'll tell you whatever you've created is amazing (even if you both know it's not), he'll spend whatever money he gets his hands on to buy materials or supplies or other thematic gifts (even though you keep telling him not to, to save his money), and he always asks tons of questions. It's partially a genuine, heartfelt sentiment, and it's also just partially an obsessive compulsion to know everything there is to know regarding you, but he also does very much hope that you will be happy and appreciate his efforts, and that in turn you'll think more highly of him and have more affection for him. Basically, it's partially yet another means of trying to win your favor. Nonetheless, it's really sweet and endearing.

Finally, in all honesty, Kaveh can be pretty sensitive. Especially in regards to you. It's easy to hurt his feelings, and when he's hurt, he goes into one of his attention-seeking moping sessions. You often find yourself feeling like you can't be entirely honest with him, because he's so sensitive to your words and feelings, so if you're bluntly honest, you'll end up hurting his feelings fairly often. You sometimes have to just find ways to articulate what you want to say in a way to deflect from anything he might take too personally. Regardless, be prepared to deal with a lot of his sad wallowing. He'll be sad (and make sure you see it) until you come cheer him up, preferably with hugs and kisses and sweet words. He can get rather childish when it comes to this, so it's easy to get frustrated by his sensitivity, but it's easier for both of you if you just comply and be all sweet like he wants, or else you'll just create a bigger task for yourself when he gets even more upset.

General perverseness: how sexual of a person are they? What’s their drive like? How touchy do they get? Do they have any reservations about sexuality?

He's incredibly touchy, if you allow it. He's perceptive enough to tell if you flinch or draw away from his touch, so he'll refrain if he feels like it's bothering you, but if you seem to be receptive to his touches, he can't keep his hands off of you. All throughout the day, laying on the couch or in bed, he keeps his arms wrapped around you, always holds your hand in public, and clings to you in some way even just walking around the house. Depending on your height difference, he likes to rest his chin either on the top of your head or your shoulder, arms wrapped around you from behind while you work on whatever you're doing.

He's admittedly developed a habit of masturbation fairly regularly, so he's used to getting to cum pretty often, needs it at least once a day. He's fairly horny overall, but in particular, his drive increases as an emotional response. If he's in a good mood, the slightest of visual stimuli or touches can get him going, and he's very eager. If he's sad, though, he still gets horny over it, the purpose of wanting sex just changes, now being that it will cheer him up. The only time he really can't get easily aroused if when he's under very intense stress, situations that need to be resolved as fast as possible, he's just too focused on whatever the task at hand is to think about much else. He'll still very much appreciate (and not outright ask for, but maybe strongly hint at wanting) a nice blowjob or riding him when he's finished as a means of praising him for getting through his task, though.

He's a mix of reserved and not reserved. He's awkward about it and very new to it all, so he has a tendency to be shy about it, the sort of thing where he can't make eye contact, keeps sheepishly rubbing the back of his head. But the raging hormones and eagerness make him simultaneously still very much unhesitant to participate and discuss, even if he's burning on the inside with embarrassment the whole time.

How forceful are they? Do they care about your willingness?

Of course he cares tremendously. Forcing someone into doing intimate acts against their will is one of the most horrific crimes he can conceive of, and he despises people who would do something like that. Rapists, in his mind, are all strangers, a certain class of bad people who exist solely in certain unsavory spaces and groups.

But people who are in relationships are supposed to be intimate with each other and all. It's natural and healthy. Relationships are said to suffer if there's a sudden drought in that department.

See, Kaveh has a sort of slow descent. A lot of his approach depends on whether or not you've had sex or any sort of intimacy before. Before you've ever done so, he's very respectful of your wishes, would never push anything onto you, would never pressure you, is willing to maintain a perfectly squeaky-clean relationship where you never touch below the neck, will stiffen and turn around and cover his eyes automatically if you start to change or have a wardrobe malfunction that reveals something, won't even talk about such things if you don't bring it up first. Much to your amusement, he even asked to kiss you the first time he did so. The sort of "pure" relationship that you've seen particularly religiously pious or socially traditional people promote.

Things change a bit with time, though. Still, he'd never ever ever force anything, of course, but, you know. There's a lot of space between forcing something and being totally okay with not having it ever.

Once you've gotten somewhat hot and heavy, late at night alone in your place, mouths latched onto each other, but you pull away because you don't want to move too fast or whatever your reason is, he accepts that, really. He just looks very visibly disappointed, might mope a bit... but no, really, it's fine. You can tell how badly he wants it, and he seems to think every night is going to be The Night based on how quickly he seems to perk up and eagerly latch onto you if you embrace him or kiss him or anything of the sort. But no pressure. It's fine, really.

The pressure of the blatant disappointment is not so bad, really, it can be more amusing than anything, but it gets significantly worse after you actually do sleep with him for the first time, because he gets hooked like some sort of drug. And consequently, without even realizing it himself, he gets much pushier. In a more rational mind, he'd probably at least try to stop himself in his worst moments, but one's self-awareness and inhibition are severely compromised when you have a flood of hormones pumping through your veins, and the object the brain associates with that burst of a chemical high right in front of you, complete with visual stimuli. He's still not forceful, of course, just... encouraging. Touchy. Can't get behind closed doors for more than a few moments without pulling you close and holding onto you while you two lay on a couch or bed or whatever at the end of the day, just like you always have, just much more sensual with the places being grabbed and the not-so-subtle tugging on your clothes. If you actually want it, it's rather cute, always strikes you with the imagery of an eager puppy wagging its tail or the like.

But you don't have to, and if you aren't feeling it or something, that's fine... he'll be really sad, but that's fine. Maybe you'll feel like it again in an hour or so. He'll be sure to check. But if not, that's fine... he's just going to be even more sad. And quiet. And mopey. Blatantly so, such a contrast to his usual self you can't not notice it. It makes you feel a bit guilty, makes the atmosphere a bit awkward. But hey, if you give in and give him what he wants, he immediately perks right back up.

It's really not a conscious behavior, not something he's ever really stopped to think about, it's just something he sort of does without ever really thinking about it or how manipulative it is. If you ever point it out to him, he'd feel awful about it and try to stop himself from subconsciously engaging in that behavior... which will last about a week or so.

What is intimacy with them like? What sort of kinks or fetishes do they have, or would they fill?

Poor baby is a total virgin. He won't admit to it unprompted, but it's kind of obvious, and he'll be (albeit sheepishly) honest if you asked. He's incredibly nervous, but also very eager, hands that tremble yet rush to pull everything off of you and run over your bare skin with intense fixation. He pays a lot of attention to you and your reactions, at least in the beginning, and is very afraid of accidentally hurting you or something.

Oral fixation

Kaveh is a very simple boy, he gets off to knowing he's getting you off. He likes making you feel good. He quickly discovers that he really likes having his head between your legs. Loves the way you squirm and moan and fuck it feels so good when you lace your fingers in his hair and pull, when you clamp your thighs down on either side of his head. It gives him such a rush, a sense of pride and excitement at the same time. He can spend literal hours like that, and likes to just do it at random. Expect to be often pushed against the wall when you're home, any of your whining about how you were cleaning or working on something soon replaced by noises of pleasure you can't restrain when he drops down and buries his tongue inside you. He keeps insisting that you sit on his face -- yes he can breathe, don't worry, and even if he can't, he'll be pretty content if that's how he goes anyway, doing what he loves.

It goes both ways, though, not just on the receiving end. If you go to reciprocate, he'll be in total, sheer bliss. He starts off trying to be cautious and worries about your comfort, but quickly gets lost in the feeling, grabbing you by your skull and pulling your head down, jerking your face up and down like a toy until he cums down your throat. Of course, after he does, he'll be apologizing for it over and over, but if you reassure him it's fine, he might just lose inhibition and control like that more readily in the future.

Praise

This probably doesn't even qualify as a kink for him, it's more like a need. He desperately needs you to tell him that he's doing a good job. Moans and other such noises are very nice on their own, but specific verbal praise is very much appreciated. Tell him it feels good, that he's good, that you love him, that you love his cock inside you, that you need him and want him and will never ever leave him. He eats up any positive words you say, depends on them even. It's partially an emotional thing of course, but it also makes him cum that much faster, each word of praise about how good it feels like an electric shock of pleasure.

Oh, and if the phrase "good boy" leaves your mouth, his soul might actually leave his body and ascend right then and there.

Marking

He discovers this because he has a tendency to get rougher than he realizes in the heat of the moment. He'll get more intense halfway in, start thrusting harder and gripping more firmly, nails digging in and even, without consciously intending to, sinking his teeth into your shoulder. Only after it's over does he start sputtering all wide-eyed because he sees the marks his actions have left across your skin, stammering out an apology and asking if you're hurt or need something and why is hot, why does it make him feel weird. What is this? This weird feeling, he feels so bad about having done it, and yet, it's... kind of nice...

If you don't mind it, maybe just maybe he can do it again... the thought of which makes him nearly hard again already. He finds himself tracing a finger over the indents of his teeth in your flesh, over the hickeys and scratches... he still feels guilty, but provided you don't seem upset, he finds himself sort of attracted to it. It feels nice, in a way, like it's marking something as his own, makes him feel a sort of prideful swelling feeling that also very much correlates to making his cock twitch. Like he's writing his name on you with each mark. Or, hey, maybe he could quite literally do that instead...

He grows a fast affinity for any sort of marking on you, be it scratches, bites, hickeys, actual writing, or even just cumshots on your face and back. It's rather cute how he still feels guilty about it, mumbles out an apology for it, but it's very evident that he's enjoying it nonetheless.

How do they feel about pregnancy or babies? Do they want them? What are they like as a parent?

He'd prefer to be financially stable first, of course, but yes actually, very strongly so. He really likes the thought of eventually having a family, likes to picture it in his head. Just you, him, a bunch of kids, maybe you guys could get a dog or a cat or something, in a nice but modest house, living a peaceful, happy, simplistic life... it's a nice thought. He knows it's a bit embarrassing to be dreaming of stuff like that with someone he doesn't know that well, so he tries to refrain, but the thoughts seep in nonetheless.

It wouldn't be something that would practically, actually happen, though, until later stages, if you've finally accepted him, most likely via an "accident" wherein he forgot (or rather, tells himself he forgot) to wear protection, and one thing leads to another. Granted, he probably won't actually make it to the point of financial stability before it does, but... hey, having love and hope is what matters, right? Sure, maybe it'll be a struggle, but you'll manage... probably.

On the bright side, he's actually a very good father, one of the best you could have. Very caring and loving, and highly involved in every aspect of the kid's life. He's always trying to take care of tasks for you to "give you a break," wants the full Parent Experience™ -- which is rather endearing, seeing as you know a lot of men tend to push the boring or annoying or tedious tasks off on the mother, but Kaveh gladly helps you with a smile on his face and enthusiasm in every second.

What kind of (nsfw) punishments would they use?

It would be a stretch to call it that, largely because he doesn't really intend it that way. But if you happen to trigger his anxieties when he's already in one of his worst moments, where he becomes more forceful and irrational out of paranoia or panic, the solution his mind comes up with for the issue of your discontentment is to make you feel good. Orgasms trigger a critical part of a bonding process (he remembers learning that in some mandatory class years ago), and you can't have room for too many bad thoughts when your mind is completely consumed by pleasure.

As always, he's not going to force you, of course not, he's just a little more pushy than usual, talks fast enough you can't get a word in, hands on your shoulders with a firm grip and an even firmer push as you get quickly guided into the bed (not forced! If you really didn't want it, you could always shove back), pushed down onto your back. A hand held over your mouth, should you try to talk, not because he's trying to prevent you from getting a word in, but because you're going to get yourself more worked up and distressed if he lets you talk. Just... just calm down, okay? Just let me handle it...

You have the opportunity to say no, despite the crushing grip and frantic voice and the ominous intensity of his stare. Looming over you, light from the hallway casting a shadow over his face that makes you feel uneasy. But you know he wouldn't hurt you, he's sure of that, so if you really wanted something else, you'd just tell him. Your stillness and quietness and wide eyes are an unspoken form of permission in and of themselves. You're clearly in recognition of your own distress and need for him to help you, and he'll do his best to make you feel good, which will in turn make you feel better and relax. Rather, maybe just keep going until you eventually pass out. Get the negative emotions out of you so that you'll be back to normal in the morning... and if not, he can just keep going then, too.

What body parts of their darling do they like the most?

If you ask, he'll say something really sappy like your eyes or your smile. Which is true, but he also likes all the soft squishy parts. Thighs, chest, anything he can rest his head on after a really long day and blissfully relax on. It's probably the closest thing on earth to what heaven feels like, he thinks. There's something comforting about the soft warmth that just melts his anxieties and stress away. Sometimes, if he's been dealing with a particularly disagreeable or demanding client or been pushed around all day, he just comes home at the end of the day silently sulking, makes a beeline over towards you, flops down and stuffs his face into your chest without a word.

But going back to his affinity for your eyes, over the course of his career, he's become somewhat familiar with certain stones and metals often inlaid into more ornate or sacred works of architecture, and he will definitely at some point get you some form of necklace or bracelet or the like with some stone or metal in it that matches the color of your eyes. He just puts a lot of effort into trying to be classically romantic like that, which is cute at least.