#making it the first time was stressful enough

[yesimwriting]

If you do, i hope you write for benefict.

Hes the superior brother

Love you 💋 (i feel bad in ending a request without saying some sort of goodbye, it feels rude)

anon i feel u, ending asks always feels so awkward lol

anyway!! happy bridgerton release weekend!!

there are no season 3 spoilers in this!

----

Once upon a time, this had been nothing more than a story your sister would whisper to you long after you were meant to be in bed. She'd tell you about everything: the members of the ton in their finest clothing, the beauty of the balls, the swell of the music, and the charm of the potential suitors.

Now that you've debuted, and the world of formal gowns and evening dances has become a part of your reality, you wonder if your sister meant to exaggerate. Maybe it had been part of some grand scheme to make you desire what she never did--a husband with a high enough rank to redeem your family name.

It wouldn't have mattered. Your sister didn't need to sell you the fantasy of finding a husband. After some poor investments injured your family's fortune and your formerly perfect sister married someone your parents considered beneath her, you decided that they had experienced as much heartache as they could bear.

The final straw was your mother passing in childbirth. The stress had aged your father, who constantly worried about what would become of you and his name when his time came. You made the decision to never add to his worries, not with your father constantly reminding you that you are your family's final hope.

And while you've made your peace with planning your future around preserving your family's name, you never expected for the process to be so overwhelming.

You thought it'd be easy to take a moment to indulge in the atmosphere. To listen to the soft swell of the music, to watch the crowds enjoy their dancing and conversation. The first suitor found you before you could fully process what you were seeing. The second came right after, and since then, the men have been multiplying.

Perhaps you'd be able to appreciate the practicality of their presence if they weren't so focused on winning your attention through their questions.

"I've always wanted to raise my children in the country, and you, Miss..." You manage to provide your full name before another young man cuts in. "How many children would you like?"

You blink. "Oh, um, children are a blessing, I suppose I'd--"

"Tell me, are you one of those women that allow novels to take up their time?"

"I like reading," you admit easily, "I don't know if I'd say it takes up my time, but I do--"

You're cut off yet again, "You seem oddly familiar. Remind me, is your family from the city?"

Never did you think you'd miss strangers asking you about your desires for your future children. You're not ashamed of your family, not by any means, but after your father's public financial issues and your sister's chosen match existing outside of society, your parents made the choice to leave this world for some time.

They presented the excuse of traveling, then they claimed that your grandmother was unwell and in need of constant familial care, and then the ton stopped asking. The world moved on, forgetting their scandal in favor of more relevant gossip. They might have never faced the potential uproar of returning if it hadn't been for your mother's friendship with Lady Danbury, who offered to make you her personal guest this debut season.

"Excuse me." The attention shifts away from you as the band of suitors fall silent. You blink, turning your head to look your savior in the eye. He's taller than you expected, with deep brown hair and soft eyes that briefly make you forget that you exist outside of your novels. "I was wondering if you'd join me for a dance?"

Your lips part, but there is no response. You blame it on the man waiting for an answer--he had not so much as asked for your name before inviting you to dance and that--and his--his smile and his eyes--they're distracting. Bright and familiar in a way that reminds you of the easiness of childhood.

"Unless, of course," he begins, "Your next dance has already been spoken for?"

The others had been too distracted by their desire to turn what they perceived as a stranger into something more digestible. They wanted to assess before allowing themselves to be seen dancing with you at the first ball of the season.

One of the other lords raises his chin slightly, a precursor to an intervention. The thought of having to let go of your ability to escape brings you back to. "No," you manage, "No, it has not." The answer feels more jumbled than it should be. You're meant to be a lady--a mature lady that does not turn bashful at the first sign of attention. "I'd be delighted to join you for a dance, Lord..."

His eyebrows briefly pull together as he responds, "Bridgerton. Benedict Bridgerton."

Bridgerton. It hits you with no warning. The summer afternoons spent--much to your mama's horror--running through the gardens, the conversations in the library, the birthdays, teas, and large family gatherings.

Benedict Bridgerton is standing in front of you, asking you to dance. If the version of you that used to hold onto the every word of her sister's stories could see you now, she'd faint of happiness. While you were always closest to Eloise, often joining her and Penelope as your parents spoke to the older Bridgertons in the foyer, the first boy you ever wanted to imagine in this situation was Benedict.

Your feelings for him might have been defined by the innocence of childhood, but they were also painfully obvious. Your only saving grace was the fact that Benedict never looked at you long enough to notice.

"Then...I'd be delighted to, Lord Bridgerton."

He offers you an arm. The other men are forced to give you the space needed for you to approach Benedict. Your movements feel hazy as you step forward. This reunion has been fun, and extremely satisfying for your childhood self, but you really should mention that you know him. He'll likely go back to viewing you as a child, which is okay. It's not like he'd marry you. After the way you disappeared on his family after the passing of his father, you'll be lucky if he doesn't hate you.

Benedict guides you forward, the music coming to an end as the pairs already on the floor begin to still. "Forgive me if the intrusion was unwelcome."

The comment surprises you as you step back. "Unwelcome?" His lips press together as he places a hand against your back. The uncertainty does not suit him. "You do not have to worry about misstepping." His eyebrows draw together, and you realize your misstep. Benedict does not remember you. A lady should not encourage any man, suitor or otherwise, to speak so freely.

"I mean--" You pause as a soft melody begins to play. "All I meant was that I value honesty. If you were to unintentionally say something that you viewed as too transparent, I'd sooner appreciate your candor than pass judgement." The words tumble out, too jumbled and heavy for a first dance. Instead of responding, he watches you. "A courtesy I've often relied on. Clearly."

Benedict shakes his head once, a smile you'd like to believe is as good humored as it seems tugging at his lips. "No, no--for the sake of transparency, I was just thinking that I didn't expect to enjoy our conversation as much as I am."

The response immediately burrows into your chest, forcing all of the air out of your lungs. In the moments it takes you to recover, you're surprised that you don't miss a step of your dance. "And what were you expecting?" The question feels too sharp and sudden. "For the sake of transparency."

You're not sure if the joke has run its course, but Benedict seems to ease at it. "I was expecting...an escape from the mamas attempting to find me for their daughters."

Benedict's admission is stiff, his eyes focusing on something just beyond your shoulder. You would have never imagined that the eligible men had their own version of feeling trapped by the confines of politeness and societal duty. Despite Benedict's lack of malice, the mental image makes something in your chest ache. The thought is oddly endearing. A hovering mama, inserting herself in her daughter's affairs, guiding her through finding a match.

"I did not mean to offend you--"

"No," you shake your head, forcing yourself to think about what you do have, "No, it's not you. In fact, I was just thinking that I was also in need of an escape."

Benedict steps forward, continuing to lead you through the dance. His expression softens at your response. "Then it appears we've helped each other."

The music swells to its climax. The song will end soon. "It appears we did."

You match another step, careful to remember the dances your sister made you go over before arriving at Lady Danbury's home. "Unless your mama was part of the pack hunting me down."

"Pack?" You repeat, forcing yourself to feel your amusement more than your grief. "I did not realize I was in the presence of a bachelor so eligible, he's quite literally hunted by a frenzy of mamas desperate for him to speak to their daughters."

Benedict laughs at that, the sound fighting to be more restrained than it actually is. Your awareness of your surroundings isn't enough to keep you from laughing with him. "That's not how I meant it."

"I know." A beat passes, and when the glowing feeling slowly but surely growing in your chest doesn't dissipate, you continue, "Actually, my mama's not here." It's as close to getting the words out as you can get. Not gone, not buried, just not here. "I am here as Lady Danbury's charge."

The music comes to an end. Some quality of his expression that you can't translate shifts. "Really?" You nod. Okay, Benedict now knows who you're staying with. It's time to confess who you are. Your lips part, but Benedict beats you to it. "I know who you're with, and I still don't know your name."

An undeniable question. You swallow, preparing to force out your own name.

"Benedict." At the sound of his name, he turns his head. A young woman you vaguely recognize from your debut approaches him. "I think I should need some air, brother." Oh--his sister. A Bridgerton who's closer to you in age--Francesca. You tense, waiting for some sense of recognition to pass over her. She barely glances at you, her body language stiff and uncomfortable.

Benedict seems to pick up on her worry. He allows her to take his arm. "Alright...I'll escort you." He looks over at you, expression apologetic, "I'm--"

"It's alright." You mean it. "Go, help your sister. You've already helped me more than I thought possible."

Benedict nods, offering you a parting glance as he escorts his sister away from the floor.

What were you thinking? Discussing an appreciation for honesty and transparency while actively keeping a secret from him? Perhaps Francesca's appearance was a sign that things are better off ended there.

Benedict's aversion of mamas implies that he is not ready to be married. He has no plans on courting you, and you may very well go the rest of the reason without speaking to him. The thought of getting to keep your secret, of not having to find out if Benedict holds the fact that after his father passed and your family moved, you didn't write to him or his family against you, is a blessing. It should make you happy, but instead, it only magnifies the hollowness of your chest.

----

i want to write a part 2 for this something BAD i love bridgerton

[pomefioredove]

Hiya! Hope you're doing okay, and take it easy if you haven't been!

For the flirty prompts starters list, could you maybe do: "Stop saying things that make me want to kiss the hell out of you." with Vil? I think it'd be a good one

Thanks!

(I hope you have fun writing this if you do! No biggie if you don't or if someone else already asked!)

GIGGLING SO MUCH

summary: "stop saying things that make me want to kiss the hell out of you" type of post: short fic characters: vil additional info: romantic, reader is gender neutral, reader is yuu, Vil experiencing cuteness aggression.jpg, not proofread a part of this event

Vil considers himself to be an eloquent man.

After all, how one speaks is just as important as how one carries themselves, and every last inch of him, from his looks to his body language to his words, have been refined to perfection. Each a golden thread in the dazzling tapestry that is Vil Schoenheit.

And yet, despite that, he still can't seem to find a way to describe you.

Frustrating is not quite right. Epel is frustrating. Those first years you insist on spending your precious time with are frustrating. But you...

You are not annoying, nor are you incompetent. His usual vocabulary for the students of NRC is useless when it comes to you.

...And different is too vague.

Vil just seems to forget what to do with his hands when you're around.

You look so soft in the golden afternoon light of the lounge, which is distracting enough as it is. Now you're giggling in the way you do, and he can't concentrate, and... what was he doing, again?

"Stop that," he says, plainly, not looking up from the textbook he'd been reading. Or trying to, anyway. He'd lost his place some time ago.

You make this... sound, this confused little hum, and he pictures you tilting your head to the side like a puppy. Sevens, you're just so...

He huffs. "I said, stop,"

"Stop what?"

Clueless little thing. Vil sighs, finding it within himself to make eye contact. He'd given up on finishing this assignment early, anyway.

"You know what,"

You stare back, unblinking. Are you really so oblivious? No, there's no way you aren't doing this on purpose, whatever it is, just to get on his nerves. Did those friends of yours put you up to this?

He should scold you. He invited you to study with him, a luxury which many would pay millions for, and here you are, being...

Ugh. He still can't think of the right word.

"Am I being too loud?" you ask, a confused lilt in your voice.

Sevens, you are so dense, he wants to just grab you and squeeze you like a stress ball until a thought comes out of that empty head.

The thought of that is no help. If anything, it just bothers him more.

He pinches the bridge of his nose. Are you really not doing this on purpose? "No. You're distracting me,"

"Oh... sorry,"

...In such a soft, meek little tone, like you really feel bad about it, looking up at him with those eyes of yours... ugh. He wants to bite you, squeeze you in his arms until this overwhelming, restless feeling passes. You're so...

"It's... fine," Vil relents. "I don't think I would've gotten much done today, anyway."

You actually tilt your head to the side this time, worsening his condition. "Something on your mind?"

Sevens, what are you doing to him? He can't sit still. He pictures himself reaching across the table to pinch your cheeks, to kiss that sweet, worried expression off your face. The effect you have...

And you're not even doing anything!

"No," he says, his voice strained with the weight of the lie. "Just burnout. It's a busy time of year for me."

You seem to take that as a cue, standing from your seat with wide eyes and holding out a hand, much to his chagrin.

"You should be resting, then. Overworking yourself will only make things worse. Come on, let's go back,"

Such a determined expression on that pretty face of yours. There's just something about how you respond so innocently, so intent on caring for him, you're...

You're so...

Vil feels his heart drop. Oh, Sevens. That's the word.

You're so cute.

"Stop that," he snaps. He can feel his face warming. "This is the last time I'll ask."

A little flash of annoyance crosses your face at his dismissal. How adorable...

"Stop what?" You repeat.

Even your scoff is cute. His face feels hot. He can handle beautiful. Gorgeous, pretty, sexy, even, But not cute. And now he's getting himself all worked up over it, and you're being so sweet, and...

"Stop saying things that make me want to kiss the hell out of you!"

Nothing has ever had such an effect on him before.

After all, it would take something incredible to fluster Vil- and here he is, blurting out every thought he has, blushing like a schoolgirl as he realizes what just came out of his mouth.

Vil Schoenheit, suddenly terrified of being rejected. It was as if he'd woken up in a parallel universe.

Or died, and went to his own personal Hell.

The shock slowly wears off your face, and you... laugh.

You laugh.

"You're very forward,"

"I'll take that as a compliment, and not the way you meant it," he mumbles, crossing his arms over his chest. "Though I'm failing to find what's so amusing."

You move around the table to sit next to him, eyes gleaming. "How would you like me to react, then?"

Vil stares back. Was that... flirtation? Perhaps you're not so oblivious, after all...

But still cute.

Still very cute.

He sighs, though there's a smile playing at his lips now. "Save me the embarrassment of being rejected,"

"Hmm... I suppose that can be arranged,"

And with that, he cups your face in his hands and draws you in for that kiss.

[street-smarts00]

Drabble: Superstitious

Spencer Reid x Reader

Reader gets stressed and locks herself in the bathroom. Penelope grabs Spencer to help her calm down.

Penelope rushed to grab the hotel key from her bag and unlock the door. Once the door was open she led Spencer inside and pointed towards the bathroom.

“She’s in there.”

His head turned to the closed door with the bright cool light peering out the bottom.

Penelope fidgeted with the hotel key card in her hands. “Do you want me to give you two a minute?”

“Yes please,” he answered softly under his breath. His eyes still on the bathroom door. Penelope softly smiled at Spencer’s concern for you as she walked out of the suite. She knew of all people who could calm you down, it was him.

He lightly knocked on the door twice. “Y/N? It’s Spencer. You in there?”

After a brief pause he heard two knocks from the other side. He let out a sigh of relief at your acknowledgement.

“Can I come in?”

“No!” You abruptly pleaded. “I’m sorry. I just don’t want any bad luck.”

You tended to be a very superstitious person. So he’s not surprised you would be strict with the not seeing each other before the wedding rule. But still, he so desperately wanted to walk in and comfort you.

“It’s okay sweetheart,” he comforted. “Can you tell me what’s wrong?”

“Today,” you quietly mumbled. He wouldn’t have heard you if he said wasn’t resting his head against the door.

“So many things kept going wrong this morning. I’m so anxious Spence,” you said a bit louder this time.

“And you’re scared something bad is going to happen during the wedding?” He didn’t have to have profiling skills to know you inside and out.

He heard your shaky breath before you responded. “Yeah.”

This wasn’t the first time you spoke to him about worst case scenarios. He found himself to be your anchor, he pulled you back down to earth when your mind would go against you. When you got caught in a storm of uncertainty and fear.

He knew this wasn’t just about the wedding.

“That’s not all is it?” He pondered.

You sighed as tears threatened to spill from your eyes, “No.”

“I kinda thought spiraled and started thinking about our jobs. How scary that might be once we get married,” you tried to hide the small gasp of breath that threatened to escape your throat. Spencer still heard it as small as it was.

“What happens to people in our line of work and what happens to their spouses. I- I could never forgive myself if something happened to you.”

He wanted to bust open the door and hold you as tight as he could. Melt away all your worries.

But he understood how much these superstitions meant to you. At times when your anxiety was against you, a knock on wood or throw of salt would ease your mind. So he stayed on his side of the door, and used his words instead.

“You’re right, our job can be scary. There’s gonna be bad days and there’s gonna be even worse ones. But through all the bad I will always be here with you, even when you can’t see me,” he smiles and lightly taps his knuckles on the door.

A small laugh escapes you at his actions. He loved the sound of your laugh. He could get drunk off that sound.

“I will never stop fighting for you and I will never stop loving you. I want to go through all those bad days with you as your husband.”

“We can’t let the fear of what could happen, stop us from being happy.”

A stray tear makes its way down your cheek, “If that is what you say to cheer me up, then I think your vows are going to ruin my makeup.”

Spencer chuckles with a bright smile on his face. After a moment of yours and his quiet laughter he gets an idea.

“Stand behind the door,” he calmly orders.

“Why?”

“I want to hold your hand but not break tradition.”

Your lips parted and eyes widened. No matter how long you knew him he could still give you butterflies from being so adorable.

Spencer heard you shuffle closer to the edge of the door and slowly turned the handle. He pushed the door open just enough to reach his hand out making sure to look away from the door.

Suddenly he felt your hand intertwine with his. The action practically made him melt. When he started rubbing his thumb against your hand, he was met with a gentle squeeze from you.

[ayannatv]

hii love your emily fics!! 🫶🫶

i have a request of singer! reader x emily where reader is singing at her sold out concert and dedicates a song to emily

Melt | Emily Engstler

You had just got back from a long day at the Studio working on your new song Melt that you had made for emily.You love Emily with all your heart ever since you met her you felt like you where on cloud nine.

“Am Home!” Emily yelled from the door “Am in the bathroom!” you hear heavy steps coming up the stairs “Hi baby” as you saw Emily all your worries went away you loved how she had that effect on you “Hi Em how was your day?” you ask smiling at her softly “It was good how was your day you look tired?” She looked you up and down observing you “i just had a stressful day at work you know working on my new song” “You never did tell me what the song was about” “it’s a Secret you just have to wait any see like everyone else’s”

Weeks later it was the day of you’re Concert all of the tickets had sold out less then days.It’s was around 9pm as you started the concert the crowd roaring with screams as you come out you being to look in the crowd for Emily as you finally saw her to see her already looking at you with a smile on her face as you started to smile back at her and wave.

“Hey New York today I will be singing my new song Melt that I made about my girlfriend Emily who has show me what love is I hope y’all enjoy the song thank you”.Emily stared at you amazed that you had took time out of your day to make a song about her as you started to sing she couldn’t help but to fall more in love with you.

I can’t tell where your hair ends and my begins

If I ain’t have all These tattoos I would think that it was your skin

As you continued to sing you started to make your way down the stage to all your fan’s.

If I move too quick quick past you, I would think it’s my reflection

Being this close isn’t close enough

You could tell every time we touch every time we, oh

You finally made it to Emily grabbing her hand leading her to the stage with you as fans started to go crazy at the action.Emily was now flustered and smiling the whole way up to the stage.

Wish I could build me a cute apartment

One bedroom right where your heart is

Inch of space feels broken-hearted

Across the bad feels way to far and

I wonder when they see just one, do they see us two?

Ooh, oh

As you finished your pre-course you started to bring you hand to roam Emily arm as you slowly went up to her hair as you looked up at her with love and admiration in your eyes.

That's when I melt into you, oh-oh-oh

I melt into you, oh

That's when I melt into you

Melt into you, melt into you, oh

Finishing the song Emily wrapped her arms around your waist hugging you as she put her head on your shoulder.You brought your arms to wrap around her neck quickly hugging her back .As y'all continue to melt into each other not caring about what going on around y'all just caring to be in each other embrace “I love you”Emily mumbled against your neck “I love you too baby”.

That's when I melt into you, oh-oh-oh

AN:This is my first time writing something that isn’t headcanons i hope y’all enjoy send in more request for me to do.

[gatorbites-imagines]

Can you write jason todd with ftm reader where he defends him from transphobia in public? I need my big beefy boyfriend to beat up transphobes for me pls. Thanks and happy pride ❤️🧡💛💚💙💜

Jason Todd x FTM reader

Headcanons

idc what anyone says, gotham knights Jason is beautiful to me

Hallo zusammen. Happy pride. My teacher decided last second to change everything about my next exam, so ive been stressing. So to make myself feel better, here’s some Jason going to pride with his BF.

As much as Gotham is a shithole filled to the gills with crime, its got a large demographic of LGBT. Even the heroes and villains are somewhere on that spectrum, which also means none of them target the local pride parades.

But like any pride parade, there are bigots at the sidelines. Now, Gothamites don’t do stupid well, so most are sent packing before they can even start up with their usual theatrics. Are you gonna yell homophobic slurs at poison ivy? Or when Killer Croc is walking by wearing rainbow streamers?

That doesn’t mean there aren’t stupid that sticks around. They are rarely locals, since even the most hateful locals know not to be dumb enough to cause a ruckus the one place the villains and vigilantes get along and have the same goal.

Not every hero was suited up though, seeing as you and Jason were walking side by side along with everyone else. Jason was wearing a less flashy outfit, mainly because he doesn’t do bright colors too much, but your sexuality and gender were more out in the open.

At least obvious enough for some hateful person to spot that you’re trans. And since you look like an easy target, amongst Gothamites at least, they decide to focus on you with their hateful rhetoric.

Insults weren’t anything new slung around Gotham, a city where you would get called a bad nickname more than your actual name. but it was never focused on something like your gender, your sexuality, or your race. It would be something like the fact that you wore ugly shoes, or that you ate weird.

which was why it catching the attention of more than just your boyfriend when the transphobic slurs get thrown at you. Apparently, you freezing up at the slurs seem like a win to these people, as they start yelling and jeering at you even more.

 Surprisingly it isn’t Jason that throws the first punch. Its some random chick wearing a lesbian flag over her shoulders and purple ladder laced boots. Her punch seems to unleash what everyone had been holding in, not wanting to give these bigots any attention.

Jason gets his own punches in of course, specifically targeting the people that had been yelling slurs at you. And as much as you hate this city sometimes, seeing people from all across the board come together to beat up bigots seems like its as unified as Gotham is ever gonna get.

Some other people wearing pride flags or colors come to check up on you, but you are honestly too busy watching Jason throw a guy with an offensive sign across the pavement.

The other people nod approvingly at your boyfriend. Fun to think Jason, the most Gotham guy you know, gets the approval from the Gotham gays.

When Jason comes back, he’s still jittery, his blood clearly rushing from the confrontation, but a couple of kisses and thank you gets him to settle down for the most part. He ends up more colorful than he would like, being given flower crowns and different lanyards and sashes. But hearing you laugh is enough to make him put up with it.

And if you’re wondering where the heroes were? Well, they just happen to have been busy with something else, even if Red Robin had been sitting on the ledge of a building, wearing his own pride flag the entire time.

You and Jason can both tell he won’t hear the end of this when you guys get home later. At the end of the day, the hateful speech doesn’t weigh too much on you, knowing that not just Jason, but Gotham as a whole, would chew up and spit anyone out who tried it.

[seraphicalsuccubus]

tonight has been one hell of a fucking night man, and I hate that I can’t be there physically to comfort him after all this fucking shit he’s had to go through

but it’s another step closer to finally having him home safe with me, where I won’t have to worry (as much) anymore because I’ll know he’s okay. because he’ll be with me.

I can’t wait to have him come lay between my legs with his head against my chest and wrap my arms around him again and just fall asleep holding him, stroking his beard and his face and his hair while he sleeps until I finally crash with him. I need that kind of rest again so badly, and I know he does too.

I need my home back already, it’s been too fucking long and I’ve felt so lost without him. I can’t wait to have him back with me again. for good.

he won’t be leaving this time. he’ll be staying. and starting a new life with me. it’s finally almost fucking here. after so fucking long.

and god, I cannot fucking wait for that. I can’t wait to see him again and just bury myself in his chest and hold him against mine and love on him for all eternity.

god, I know we both fucking need it. so fucking bad.

we’re so close. so so close. 😭

[baby-tini]

Can I request cheater! Bonten Mikey (angst) but then regretted/ try to win her back? Thank you in advance!

TW- Cheating, implied abuse You didn't know how stressful running a gang could be- much less the biggest criminal organization in the whole of Japan. So you thought it might be best too give Mikey some space, give him time too himself and let him relax. You fully trusted Mikey, he's never betrayed your trust, never lied to you and never gave you a reason too doubt him. He was sweet to you, buys you the prettiest things and treats you like a princess. But, when you got back to his office, after being out for a couple hours, you could hear the sounds of skin-slapping and the creak of his desk. You didn't have too open his office door too know what was happening and you didn't, you doubted you could handle seeing Mikey like that, especially with another person, you knew he wasn't... as attentive as usual but, it wasn't too weird for you. Mikey just needs some alone time, you didn't think it would be anything like.. this. You didn't know how fast you ran out of the building, your head was so foggy, everything felt.. fake.

You knew you couldn't stay, that was it. You loved Mikey, promised too stay- he made you promise him over and over again until your throat was raw as he stared at you blankly. But, you couldn't take knowing that he was so intimate with someone else, so... physically connected to someone that wasn't you. You truly believed with everything that Mikey would never do something like that- like this to you. But then again.. you truly didn't know anything about Mikey, he never opened up, never gave you any unnecessary or personal details from his childhood or his life in general. You packed everything you could fit in your bag as soon as you got to the penthouse you shared with Mikey- well, not really shared.. he payed for everything, it truly was a beautiful penthouse but you couldn't stay. How long and how many you wondered, did he ever fuck women in the bed you shared together? Did he ever caress your cheek with the same fingers that were.. inside someone else...? Ever kiss you after kissing someone else? Ever.. ever spread your legs open and make love to you after he was done with someone else? Did he ever think of someone else as he fucked into you and told you he loved you? You knew he kept a stash of cash in the closet in case of emergencies, he told you if anything ever happened it would be there, should you need it, knowing he couldn't be with you all the time. It felt like a good reason so you took it, took a good couple thousand dollars, at least enough too last while you figured everything out and got far away from him. You couldn't.. go back after this, this was just too much. You knew realistically this could never be fixed and there was no going back for the both of you, you just hoped that Mikey would leave you be after he found you gone, would accept the note you left in place of your presence. It had been a couple hours after you left when he came home, exhausted and yearning too relax with you. He didn't like that you never came back to his office, but that was probably for the best, considering the session he had with that woman took a lot longer then he thought, but it's no big deal, her pussy wasn't nearly as tight as yours anyway. He quickly became irritated when he kept calling your name, you know he hates repeating himself, you've had bruises before, physically showing you how much he hated repeating himself. But, he'd just have to teach you anothe rlesson, be a little firmer with you this time. He froze when he saw the room you shared together a mess, clothes thrown about and the closet door open, the room was a mess the bedsheets were tossed and the gun he kept hidden away behind the clothes in the closet were gone. He had immediately grabbed his phone, planning too have all of his executives out looking for you, assuming it was a kidnapping at first. Until he saw the note, the white paper crinkled and under messy, crinkled blankets. Assuming it was a ransom note, he snatcjed it, eyes looking for a sum of money, when he didn't find one, he read over the paper carefully, making sure he didn't miss a word.

"Mikey, I truly don't know how too start this note... something like this has never happened before- never thought it would happen to be honest with you. I never thought you would do something so... unforgiving, after all the moments we shared together. The way you'd hold me when I cried, the way you'd kiss my tears away. I never knew a man like you could be so gentle, but you were. You held me, treated me like fragile glass, sometimes I thought, that you thought I would break if you were too rough. The way you would hold me while you made love to me, made me promise too stay and I did, but.. I can't anymore after hearing you in your office with someone else. The thought of you being so intimate with someone breaks me.. it'll break me for a while. I don't think I could ever look into those beautiful onyx eyes that I love- use too love. Knowing you've looked into others eyes as you did mine. I can't bare the thought of you holding someone as they called out your name, kissed you as they yearned for your touch. I promised too stay... but this is the only promise I'll ever break to you. I love you, more then anything, I'll always love you even when I'm gone. I just wished you'd feel the same. Goodbye Manjiro Sano, hopefully forever." There were wet spots on the note, bleeding through the paper as he got to the end. Reaching up to his burning eyes, they were wet, vision clouding and becoming blurry as his wet lashes stuck together. The salty tears ran down his cheeks as his hand started too shake and his breathing became heavier. He was struggling too breathe, too understand the note, his head was foggy and blank.. but also over-whelming with different scenarios of you, he doesn't even recognize his own voice when it comes out hoarse and rugged. You're walking out of his life, and as you wanted, possibly forever. "I can't... that can't happen angel. You can't leave- can't leave me. You promised and I won't let you break that promise. You'll understand how much I love you when I get you back" He pulled his phone out, calling Sanzu too immediately track you down, you belonged with him- with home. You were- are everything to him, the only thing left that he holds close. He's selfish, he knows that, he knows why you left but he didn't actually think you would... his chest hurts, feels like it's caving in on itself. He needs you, more then he thought, he can't and he won't let you leave- let you just walk away from him like this. Over his dead body.

[a-dauntless-daffodil]

Charlie: "Dad. Did you post this."

Lucifer: "Oh my 'selfie' with your dear lovely Maggie?? Why yes I DID! Do you like it!?"

Charlie: "Dad."

Lucifer: "Since she's your loving girlfriend, who you love, I thought gosh! I should really have on my social media page! Make a change from all the ducks, ha ha!"

Charlie: "Dad did you write the- the caption on it?"

Lucifer: "The c- oh yes! Well I wanted everyone to know how much I ADORE my daughter's girlfriend!!"

Charlie: "You wrote-"

Lucifer: "See, the 'bad' here means 'good'! I checked! Bad and bitch are bad on their own, but when you put them together it's like a, er, a double negative making a positive, haha! Maggie's a bad bitch- she's AWESOME- which ahaha I'm sure YOU know since you're dating her-and now all of Hell knows I think so too!!!! ISN'T THAT SWELL!"

Charlie: "But the actual whole caption says-"

Lucifer: "'ME AND THE BAD BITCH I PULLED BY BEING CHARLIE'S DAD'!"

Lucifer: "Aww and the picture turned out so great! Look!"

Lucifer: ".... you don't look super thrilled about it, Char-char."

Charlie: "Pulled, dad... Do you know what 'pulled' can mean exactly, specifically, in THIS context..?"

Lucifer: "... pulled.... into a... hug? Like in the selfie...?"

Charlie: "Dad."

Charlie: (deep breath) "I can't believe I'm saying this..."

Charlie: "You made it sound like you SLEPT WITH my girlfriend."

Lucifer: "......."

Lucifer: "Oh. HA! That's..."

Lucifer: (deflating balloon noises as he literally shrivels up into a crumpled pile of clothes mostly hidden by his hat)

Charlie: "We're not angry!"

Lucifer: ".... i m s o r r y..."

Charlie: "It's okay!!! IT'S FINE. A little mentally scarring and socially mortifying not to mention something our friends won't EVER let us live down, but- well- Just... Just-"

Charlie: "No more social media meme posting without running them past me or Vaggie first, alright!?"

Lucifer: "If I delete the post maybe no one else will see it...."

Charlie: "Everyone in Hell has already seen it, dad."

Lucifer: "..i could delete myself instead"

Charlie: "And HOW would that help?"

Lucifer: "...it would make me feel better..."

Vaggie: "Honestly sir, the most embarrassing part is how you look young enough to be my teenage son."

Charlie: "Thanks, Vaggie."

Vaggie: "Check out my stress wrinkles and scars next his baby smooth face. It's like I picked him up from a cradle somewhere."

Charlie: "Please don't joke about cradle robbing my actual father."

Vaggie: "Sorry babe."

Charlie: "I mean I'll NEVER be able to look at ANY of my parents' family portraits the same way ever AGAIN, but thank you for being SO understanding about the rumor you're dating my DAD!"

Vaggie: "Sir, what kinda skin routine are you even doing?"

Lucifer: "room full of rubber ducks and despair"

Charlie: "VAGGIE PLEASE."

Vaggie: "Sweetie, I'm ruffling his hair in the pic. It's hilarious."

Charlie: "I DON'T NEED THE REMINDER!"

Vaggie: "Feels like I'm about to call the king of hell 'kiddo' or something."

Lucifer: (a puddle on the floor) "i thought it was funny too"

Charlie: "Okay.... okay."

Charlie: "You two NEED to find a bonding activity that doesn't TRAUMATIZE me."

Vaggie: "Hmm."

Lucifer: "OH WE COULD-"

Charlie: "Or each other!"

Lucifer: "Oh well then I have nothing!"

Vaggie: "We'll always have that time you fake dated me online, sir someday dad-in-law."

Lucifer: "Our beautifully shared new horrifying past..."

Charlie: "Ha ha HA! Keep this up and either the dad part or the someday in-law part is gonna stop being accurate REAL quick!"

Vaggie: "It will?"

Charlie: "No but I'm trying to threaten you two right now so SHUSH."

[pedriscroquettes]

𝐁𝐘𝐀𝐊 ✮ FLORIAN WIRTZ

summary. it’s kind of pathetic the way the two of you always come crawling back to each other.

warnings. emotional warfare. florian is down bad. light smut but heavy feelings. florian is lowkey pathetic in this. 18+

gabri speaks! unfortunately i am a florian girlie. anyways i’m back! heavily inspired by byak by alvaro diaz ft. rauw alejandro.

THE CROWD GROANS as florian hits the crossbar for the second time that night. the camera man makes sure to zoom in on him as his hands go up in frustration. florian stares at the goalkeeper in disbelief as he runs back into his position. another missed chance, another bad rating, another night of him stressing himself out. if there was one person in all of germany that night happy about his performance it was you.

your relationship with the player was controversial, what was once a promising relationship had turned sour, and quickly. the two of you had mutually decided that a committed relationship wasn’t in the cards for either of you. it had grown toxic to the point where you’d flirt with his teammates on purpose to provoke him which worked because you’d always end up in his bed and never in a foreign room. in fact you couldn’t quite remember when was the last time you had hooked up with anyone else.

meanwhile the brunette found himself staring at his phone on the ride home. chatter and music filled the team bus yet only one thing clouded his mind, did you watch the match? he was hoping a teasing message of yours would already be in his notifications, and when he saw there’s wasn’t one he sighed. as his teammates argued over their errors and mistakes he couldn’t help opening the messages between the two of you. the countless deleted messages and hidden pictures as well as the timed ones made him remember the many nights the two of you would spend on the phone.

the sound of your voice filled his head and when he saw you were online he immediately turned off his phone. was it possible you had finally gotten tired of your messed up relationship?

“bro, are you okay?” kai asked seeing the state his teammate was in. florian’s leg was bouncing and his demeanor had changed dramatically.

“i’m fine, thanks.” he offered him a curt smile before staring out the window again.

he wasn’t fine, he was far from fine, in fact he felt worse than he did after missing the goal. he’s not sure why but as soon as the team arrives back to the hotel he’s on his way to your flat. he makes a quick stop at the chinese place the two of you like beforehand making sure he doesn’t show up empty handed. it was already pathetic enough that he was showing up past midnight he could at least make up an excuse with the food.

he hopes the black hoodie he wore is enough to hide his identity from bystanders. although with all the pacing he does outside your hallway he hopes no one thinks he’s a robber. as he adjusts his hoodie he can’t help but think, why am i so nervous? after all it’s not the first time he knocks on your door at these hours.

“do you hate me?” is the first thing you hear as you open the door.

you study his frame and notice his disheveled hair and the training kit from the national team. you’ve never seen him so disorganized and upset — if that was the right word to use — you were amused. as his face grows concerned with your lack of answer you notice the takeout he has in his hands. the poor guy was either desperate or he had lost his mind. both of which could be true.

“what the fuck florian?” you look at him weird as you question him.

“you didn’t text me today.” he says as if that simple sentence answered your question.

“so what? i don’t text you every other week and you never show up at my apartment with food. what’s going on?” you’re even more confused than before.

“you always text me after a game.” he tries to explain like it’s the most logical thing ever.

you can’t help the half scoff and half laugh you let out. he couldn’t be serious right now. was he seriously at your apartment past midnight because he was freaking out over a message?

“okay seriously you need to get a girlfriend you’re starting to creep me out.” you joke.

“you say that while you’re wearing my jersey.” he l doesn’t even need you to turn around to know that you were wearing the leverkusen jersey he had gifted you months ago.

there’s a moment of silence between the two of you it’s entrancing. you stare at him and realize he’d made his way over to you immediately after the game. all because he was waiting for your message. meanwhile there’s something about you wearing his jersey for casually that makes you all more enchanting to him. there’s a mutual look between the two of you and in the blink of an eye his hands are on your waist, yours on his jaw, and his lips are on yours.

it’s poetic really the way he closes your door as he pushes you into your apartment and drops the takeout on your coffee table in the process. your hands already digging into his hair and his hold you tight as he carried you into your room. it’s all muscle memory. the darkness of your bedroom adds to the feeling of having him so close to you again.

“i think i-” he pauses not wanting to be so vulnerable in this predicament but you know what he wants to say. you freeze.

“florian you know i can’t. it didn’t work out the first time. i can’t do it again.” you grab his jaw making sure the two of you are making eye contact. his brown eyes captivate yours.

“i can’t either but i can’t live without you.” he whispers the end. “it will always be you.”

you drag his hand towards the waistband of your shorts. it would always be him too. the only person that consumed your every thoughts and the only person you were worried about getting hurt was him. always. you look into his eyes as he drags his fingers to your core and sigh as he begins to tease you. he’s also the only man you fantasize about.

“promise?” you ask him.

the moonlight barely allows you to see him fully but you catch the smirk on his face. the same one that had captivated you years ago at the bar. his fingers are so close to your needy hole. you can’t help but audibly gasp as he inserts them inside you causing an illicit groan from him. your nails dig into his shoulders as he starts fucking you with his digits. meanwhile he kisses you from your collarbone to your neck.

“i promise.” he whispers against your ear.

he pumps his fingers in and out of you slowly helping you reach your high. it was only fair you were treated right. it was small details like this that had you wondering why the two of you couldn’t just commit to each other. you’re distracted as he leaves marks on your neck and his fingers curve inside you. you can’t help the loud moans that leave your mouth as you reach your high. your hands dig into the sheets as you come around his fingers.

he continues kissing you as he begins to take his hoodie off. you’re quick to stop him before he begins undressing himself.

“do i need to remind you that you didn’t score today? you’re not getting any tonight.” you adjust your shorts.

“so you did watch the game then.” he wraps his arms around you pulling you closer to him.

“i always do.” you whisper as you cuddle into him.

that’s how you spend the rest of the night, snuggled into his body as it rains outside. it’s quite an intimate moment shared between the two of you. you’re not quite sure if you should be worried or content with the turn your relationship with florian took. you decide it’s rather late and with the way he holds you you don’t think much more. after all he promised and while you knew florian was many things he was not an oath breaker.

[fruittt-punchhh]

Pop My Cherry!

pt. 2 pt. 3

Synopsis: your dad’s best friend is none other than Toji Fushiguro, and you can’t help but wonder what he could do with his hands.

Characters: Toji Fushiguro x reader. Choso Kamo is mentioned, not a major part of the story.

Content: Minors Do Not Interact! afab! reader, fem! reader, dad’s best friend! Toji, suggestiveness, cursing, inexperienced (ish) reader, reader is a virgin but has done things ya know, reader smokes weed, alcohol usage, pet/affectionate names, no smut yet 🫶

Word Count: 2.2k-ish

Notes: friends!!! This is my first ever smut! Pls be nice🫶 if you have any suggestions, comments, advice, PLEASE feel free to let me know!! I hope you enjoy hehe. (filthy smut if you’re down for that in pt. 2 trust) excuse any typos, proofread a bunch but I’m also human. 💖

It had been a terribly long week already, and it was only Thursday. You were on spring break from university, and you had spent most of the week catching up on overdue assignments.

You were staying with your father, as well as your brother, and your father’s best friend. He had a condo at the beach that wasn’t too far from your university, so it worked out well.

You had just finished your final essay for philosophy 200, closing your laptop with a snap! as you rub your eyes. It was nearing 3:30 a.m. but you still felt so much residual stress from the paper. You had a joint ready and waiting for you, and a hit or two couldn’t hurt, right? Enough so you could relax, maybe grab a snack, and hit the hay. You open your bedroom window, creeping out onto the balcony to let your worries fade away.

—���——————————————————————

You throw your leg over the window sill, trying to keep your balance. You lowkey had the munchies so you head to the kitchen before you retire for the night. Until you are met with a surprise.

Your father’s friend (you think his last name was Fushiguro?) has been gone all week for “work”. You noticed him coming in at odd hours of the night, looking worse for wear.

“What are you starin’ at, doll?” Toji says as he looks for a shirt in the laundry room.

You feel your cheeks turn red as you try to quickly avert your eyes. You wore nothing but a large t-shirt as you crept into the kitchen, hoping you wouldn’t wake your father.

You thought you heard Toji come in maybe an hour earlier, but you couldn’t know for sure. Here he stood, fresh out of the shower with nothing but a small towel wrapped around his waist. His dark hair was dripping down his back and he still looked as if he was radiating heat from the shower he just took (or was that you?) It was all of a sudden much too warm in the kitchen for your liking.

“S-sorry, I was just grabbing a snack. I’ll be quick,” you stammer. You had only ever seen Toji a few times, and you didn’t remember him to be this… attractive? You didn’t know if that was even the right word. In this moment, you felt attracted to him, sure. But you also felt small and helpless. As if he could pierce through you with his gaze alone. You truly didn’t mean to stare, but you also didn’t expect anyone else to be in the kitchen at 4 a.m., either.

He interrupts you with a smirk, “What’s the rush? It’s y/n, right? Grab me a beer out of the fridge while you’re at it, girl”

If you thought your cheeks couldn’t be any redder, you were wrong. You felt the crimson blush cover your ears as you turned around to look for a beer in the fridge. There was a (beer brand here) in the back on the bottom shelf. You tried to bend at your knees as to be discreet, but you could have sworn you heard Toji clearing his throat as you did so.

Toji slipped on a pair of black boxer briefs as you grabbed him a beer like the sweet girl you are. He felt as if the wind was knocked out of him when he saw you bend down, searching the fridge for his drink. Call him crazy, but he could’ve sworn you weren’t wearing any panties. He quickly ran the towel through his hair, trying to ignore the rush of blood he felt surging to his dick.

You grabbed the beer, as well as an apple for yourself. You walked over to Toji, and he took the beer from you with a ‘thanks’. He popped off the cap with his molars and took a big swig. You watched as the beer dripped down his chin and over his adam’s apple. You also noticed the scar covering his pretty lips.

Your eyes wandered as he finished his beer surprisingly quickly. He would usually come home covered in a mixture of dirt, sweat, and sometimes blood. Apparently, underneath the dirt and grime was a body that was sculpted by the gods. Everything about him was so big. His huge tits pecs and his ripped abdomen. His biceps were bigger than your head and his hands, oh god, his hands. They were riddled with callouses and he had short, bitten nails. His fingers were so thick and you started to imagine what it would be like to feel them on your body.

Your temperature rose as the lewd thoughts entered your mind. This is your father’s best friend! Although he was a a few years younger than your dad, he was still much too old for you. Not only that, but you were still (unfortunately) a virgin. And not for a lack of trying! You were double majoring in psychology and philosophy, so most of your limited leisure time was spent smoking to relax, or hanging out with your small group of friends on the weekends. Sure, you had masturbated plenty of times, and you’ve given the occasional blowjob. But you’ve never quite found the right person at the right time to go all the way with. You never cared much about the label ‘virgin’ until now, feeling like you might have been missing out.

Now, you were standing in the kitchen in the early hours of the morning thinking about what this man could do to you with just his fingers. The thought alone had you squeezing your thighs together, trying to give yourself any relief from the problem you’ve created.

“You know it’s rude to stare, right y/n? Especially after I asked you a question, doll”

Yet again, he’s caught you off guard. I mean seriously, how old were you? You felt like a teenage boy who had just seen his first pair of tits. You need to pull yourself together so you can get out of here as soon as possible. You didn’t know how long you would be able to hold it together without making it quite obvious that internally, you were aching.

“Shit, I’m sorry! I was lost in a train of thought, I-I guess. What was the question?” Hopefully he doesn’t catch on to your half-lie.

Toji pulls a black compression tee over his torso, giving you a moment to collect yourself finally. He throws the beer in the trash and steps into the light of the kitchen alongside you.

He flashes a toothy smile at you, “You should watch that language. Pretty girls don’t go around saying things like that. And I asked you what the hell you were doing up so late.”

Pretty girls? Did you hear him correctly? He could just be saying things to get you to squirm, and if that was his goal, it was working all too well. You hope his smile was out of politeness, but you knew enough about Toji from your father to know that this man did not have a polite bone in his body. It seemed almost as if he was teasing you?

“S-Sorry about the language, I’m just tired. I’ve been working on my philosophy paper for the last few hours and I just wanted a snack before I went to bed,” you admitted truthfully.

Toji rolled his eyes, smirking at your statement, “God, that sounds so fucking boring. I’m surprised you finished it, I woulda given up hours ago.”

You smiled at his honesty. You knew that your paper topic ‘the perception of personal space’ and your other assignments on morals and judgement were not everyone’s cup of tea. “It’s actually quite interesting, it’s about the concept of how one perceives personal space, but I definitely wanted to call it quits a few times. I’m just glad I can sleep in tomorrow.” You admit with a grin. Despite his blasé attitude, a part of you thought he might actually be listening (at least a little bit).

All he heard was bla bla bla. It seems interesting enough, if you have absolutely nothing else going on in your life. How could you even write two sentences on personal space, let alone an essay? “If it’s that fucking interesting, then why are you in here looking like a walking corpse? Have you seen those bags under your eyes? You need the sleep more than I do, hun.”

Well damn. You didn’t think it was that bad, especially not enough for some old man to point out. You had been staying up most nights trying to catch up on your work, and you could sleep in anyways. But each morning you found yourself awake at 7 a.m. on the dot, still cursed by the rigidity of your usual school routine.

“I’ve just been behind, so I’m trying to catch up while I have the free time.”

Toji peers at you and scratches his head, “Why the fuck are you doing school work on spring break, anyway? Aren’t ya’ supposed to be at the beach getting wasted with your girlfriends?”

While you admit that would be fun, there was just no time for it this year. You were in the last semester of your senior year, and you were graduating with top honors. You had to keep up the good work so you could hopefully be accepted into graduate school in the fall.

“I mean it’d be fun sure, but smoking is more my thing anyways. I like relaxing after all my work is done, so I’d rather stay here and get caught up while I can, ya’know?”

How cute. Look at you trying to be a good little student. It would almost be admirable if it didn’t make his stomach churn at how sickly sweet it was.

“That’s good, doll. Keep it up and you’ll be making big bucks just like me, yeah? What are you wanting to go to school for anyways, to be a fuckin’ therapist or some shit?”

Everyone thought you wanted to be a therapist, but truth be told, that profession couldn’t be more off your radar. You had enough problems of your own to deal with, and you certainly didn’t need to hear other people’s on top of that.

“I’m not going to school to be a therapist actually; I really want to be a professor one day. What do you do for work anyways? You always look like you just came home from war or some-“

He cuts you off before you can land a joke at his expense. Toji’s profession wasn’t the best topic for conversation, given that his line of work was very hush-hush.

“You’re cute. Next question.”

Cute?? At this point you felt like he was toying with you. But you did have another question for him.

“How come I can’t say ‘shit’ but you can say whatever you want? I’m grown, aren’t I?”

Toji shifted towards you. You stood in the door frame between the kitchen and the hallway, your apple untouched. You were too busy thinking of what to say next to the large, burly man that was suddenly peering over you. He came to the doorframe, throwing one hand on top of it. At this point, he was towering over you. His shadow cascading over you as you felt yourself shrink into the background. Toji glared at you with his velvet green eyes and a smug grin was plastered across his face. You felt his hand grasp your chin, forcing you to look up at him. Your neck was strained as you attempted to make eye contact with the taller man.

“Can’t you hear woman? I said pretty girls don’t go around saying shit like that. Do I look like a pretty girl to you?” He says as he inches closer to your face. You could smell the beer wafting from his mouth. But the smell was quickly overrun by the rest of him. He smelled like pine, cheap liquor, and…cinnamon? Suddenly, the grip on your chin tightens. His hands are so large, he’s even starting to squish your cheeks, making you look like an absolute fool underneath him.

“I asked you a question, princess.”

The name throws you off guard, but for some reason, you’re not upset.

“S-sorry, no y-you don’t look like a pretty girl. Of course not, m-my bad.”

“That’s what I thought, y/n.”

Toji spits as he releases his grasp on you, standing straight and stretching his arms as he lets out a yawn. He smelled the weed all over you and could tell how flustered you got from your little interaction. He grabs the apple from your hand, taking a huge bite which in turn means you only have about half an apple left. He hands you back your snack, pats your head then saunters over to the couch, plopping down with a grunt. He grabs the remote and turns it to some wrestling show he always watched.

You look at him, confused. You weren’t even staring this time. You were simply dumbfounded at the interaction you two just had. Surely that can’t be it, right? He’s just going to watch tv after he had you literally in the palm of his hand? (and he ate half of my fucking apple)

You move to turn the lights off, and you put your apple in the trash. Your appetite for food was long gone. You quietly walk out of the kitchen into the dim hallway. Toji calls your name, startling you.

“Sleep tight, doll.”

pt. 2

[missmaniac25]

Ateez Scenarios - Realising you're in love with your best friend Part 2 (the confession)

Behold! The sequel that nobody asked for but I had to write anyways!

Each member’s part is between 600 - 700 words This does link to part 1 but I’m sure you could read this as a stand alone if your heart so chooses I don't think there's any warnings but let me know if I missed anything

~

Hongjoong:

Another night, another successful snack run. You and Hongjoong tumble back into his studio as the clock reaches two in the morning. Like normal, you’re both a little giggly and a little bit chaotic as you flop onto the couch whilst Hongjoong takes his chair.

“Throw me a chocolate milk, please,” you ask before Hongjoong dives, almost literally, into the packet before tossing one your way.

However, you were not ready for it when he tosses it your way and it lands on your head with a thunk before falling off of you and onto the floor.

“Ow.” Is all you manage to get out before your best friend is kneeling in front of you, still giggling, but clearly concerned.

“Are you ok? I really didn’t mean to throw it so hard.”

It must be the lack of sleep that makes you decide to play it up.

“Oh, the pain!” You pretend to be wounded. “Oh, the betrayal! How could you do this to me?”

Dramatically you place the back of your hand on your forehead like a damsel in distress and it causes your best friend to laugh even more.

“Oh no!” He mimics your tone. “I’ve fatally injured the most important person in my life! How will I ever earn their trust again!”

You go still at his words. Does he even know what he just said? Does he know how much it tugs at your heart strings when he says things like that?

“I’m the most important person in your life?” You dare to query, knowing that he might retract his words now that he was being confronted with them.

A faint blush appears over his nose and along his cheeks. At first you think you’re imagining it.

“Um, yeah.” It’s as though he’s suddenly become sober, the giggle disappearing from his voice. “You are. I thought you knew that.”

The two of you watch each other in silence for a short while.

“Does your head actually hurt?” He finally asks, bringing you back to reality.

“I mean a little.” You playfully lift your eyes as if you’ll be able to see anything and you succeed in making Hongjoong giggle again. “Do I have a boo-boo?”

He swats your hand away and takes a closer look.

“There’s a bit of a red mark, oh my soul, I’m so sorry!”

You muse that it’s really ok, you should have been paying more attention aways.

“Wait, I know how to make it feel better,” Hongjoong tells you, shuffling closer.

You’re about to ask what he means when he gently places a kiss on your head, assumedly where the chocolate milk had hit you. It lasts only a second but it feels as though every moment you’d ever shared with your best friend is captured in that second, in that action.

“Do you feel better?” He asks as he moves away.

You shake your head.

“Do you need another one?”

You nod.

There’s a smile on his face as Hongjoong kisses your head again, a little longer this time and your eyes flutter closed. You almost tell him not to stop when he pulls away.

“And now?” Hongjoong is still smiling, almost as if he knows where this is leading.

“Still not better,” you say, opening your eyes. “But I think I know what will help me.”

There’s no pull back from Hongjoong as you gently guide him down. There’s still a gap between the two of you. But after a breath, you feel his lips against yours and the rest of the world is forgotten.

You don’t know how long the kiss lasts for. All you know is that you’d give anything to have him kiss you like that from now until forever.

Little do you know, Hongjoong feels exactly the same way.

~

Seonghwa:

“Ok, ok, enough!” You plead with the people around you. “Damn, I’m crying I’m laughing so much!”

An evening out with your friends had been exactly what you’d needed to relieve yourself of the stress you’d been feeling. The banter dies down for only a short time before someone else strikes up a new conversation and the commotion begins again.

Next to you, your best friend sits uncharacteristically quietly. He’s barely spoken the whole evening, opting rather to sip continually from his glass. You don’t think you’ve even seen him smile.

After wiping away your tears, you affectionately nudge your shoulder against his. Seonghwa peers over at you and his expression softens ever so slightly.

“Hey, everything alright?” You ask, trying to be as subtle as you can be.

“Hmm,” he hums and you know he’s lying to you.

You nudge him a second time and this time he rolls his eyes.

“Come on, what’s up? I want to help you feel better.”

Seonghwa gazes around the table, almost willing all of the other people to go away. His look isn’t lost on you.

As discretely as you can manage, you take your best friend’s hand and stand up, pulling him away from all the noise and outside of the restaurant. Seonghwa doesn’t hesitate to go with you, trusting you completely.

“Alright.” You place yourself in front of him. “What’s bothering you?”

“Nothing is bothering me.”

“Hwa…”

He sighs, his eyes darting to look at anything but you.

“It’s just…” He pauses and then finally gets the courage to look at you. “I didn’t intend for everyone else to join us tonight. I actually wanted it to just be you and me.”

To say you’re confused is an understatement.

“But I thought that you invited them?”

Seonghwa rubs his hands overs his face with a groan.

“They invited themselves. I mentioned to them that I thought about going out this evening with you and suddenly everyone was tagging along. I didn’t know how to say no to them or to ask you out alone.”

You try to find a middle ground; a positive for him to focus on.

“Is it really so bad to be with them though? We haven’t seen them in a while and you and I hang out together a lot just us.” 

“But I…”

He stops himself short. There’s an emotion in his eyes that you can’t quite place. Is it desperation? Is it longing?

Gingerly, he holds one hand out to you. You take it without thinking twice – you’d trust him with your life.

“I like spending time with just you,” Seonghwa admits. “I like when it’s only you and me laughing until it hurts. I want to be the one making you laugh like that, not someone else.”

The world stops spinning. The only thing you can focus on is Seonghwa – the beautiful features of his face, the feel of his fingers brushing yours.

“I was going to tell you something else tonight but I wanted it to only be us,” he continues. “I wanted it to be… romantic.”

You react before you can think.

“Should we leave then?”

You’ve clearly taken Seonghwa by surprise but you’ve also done the same to yourself.

“I mean, if you still want to… spend time with… just me.”

Your confidence quickly dwindles with every word you say and you wish that the ground would open up and swallow you whole.

“Yes.” Seonghwa finally smiles for the first time that evening and it makes you smile too. “I’d love that.”

You both waste no time going back inside, gathering your goods and quickly paying for your part of the meal.

You don’t know where Seonghwa is planning on taking you or what’s about to happen. All you know is that you can’t wait to spend time with him and only him.

~

Yunho:

‘Damn it why didn’t I wear something warmer?’

You internally curse your circumstances as you stand outside with the rest of your friends. The little fire that they’d made to roast marshmallows was not big enough to give you any kind of substantial heat. To be fair to yourself, it’d been sunny when you’d left your home that afternoon, but as the night had closed in, the temperature had taken a dip.

“You ok?”

You turn to find Yeosang. He glances at how you’re rubbing your hands over your bare arms over and over.

“I mean I’m a little cold,” you confess but try not to cause a fuss. “I’ll be fine. Don’t worry about me.”

He tuts quietly before shrugging his jacket off and holding it out to you. Adamantly, you try to refuse him but he’s insistent and eventually you end up with the garment hanging over your shoulders. And you have to admit, you feel much better already.

“Thanks.”

“No problem.” Yeosang smiles before turning back to the conversation happening around you.

It’s only a little while later when you feel someone poke you in the ribs. You don’t even have to turn around to know who it is.

“What was that for?”

Yunho appears next to you, a whisper of a laugh on his lips. The flames of the fire reflect in his eyes and you catch yourself before he notices you staring.

“Just wanted to get your attention.”

Ever since a few weeks ago, you’ve had to be mindful of how you act and talk around your best friend – any small slip up could reveal your new feelings for him. But when says things that like, it makes it so much harder.

Luckily, he doesn’t give you too much time to dwell on that as he notices your attire.

“Is this your jacket?” He asks you, brows furrowed. “I don’t recognise it.”

“Oh, it’s not mine. It’s Yeosang’s.” You tell him honestly, thinking nothing of it. “I was cold and he gave it to me.”

You miss the way Yunho’s jaw goes stiff; the burning in his eyes, not from the fire in front of you.

“Why didn’t you ask me for my hoodie?”

You almost laugh until you finally register his expression and how tense he is next to you. As you’re about to tell him that he just wasn’t around, he grabs your hand and leads you away from the group. When it’s just the two of you, Yunho quickly removes his own hoodie, telling you to put it on instead.

“Yunho, what are you doing?” It’s your turn to be confused. This is weird and you don’t know what to make of it.

“I don’t want you wearing anyone else’s clothes. Please just wear my hoodie.”

“I still don’t understand what…”

“I’m in love with you!”

The confession hangs in the air. It’s a glass bubble that if it’s not caught, it’ll shatter. You want to tell someone to pinch you just to make sure that this isn’t a dream.

“I’m in love with you.” Yunho’s hand clamps his hoodie tightly. “And seeing you wear someone else’s clothes is making me go insane, ok?”

It’s incredible how hastily you pull Yeosang’s jacket off of your shoulders and reach out for Yunho. He beats you too it though and gently pulls the hoodie over your head, just like he did the day you realised you liked him more than a friend. You let him help you put it on properly and he takes his time pulling it down over your torso.

“I suppose I should go give this back to Yeosang.” You say, fiddling with the jacket you now hold.

Yunho smiles mischievously and tugs at his hoodie on you, gently forcing you closer to him.

“Or we could make him wait a little longer.”

You feel his hands on your sides and you finally get the confidence to look him in the eye. There’s that feeling of butterflies in your stomach.

“Yeah,” you agree, finally giving in to everything you’ve wanted to do for so long now. “He can wait. I’ve waited long enough for you.”

~

Yeosang:

Your anxiety was almost palpable as you knocked on the door to Yeosang’s apartment. There was already music playing just loud enough to be heard outside and you could hear the voices of some of your friends. Normally, you wouldn’t be so nervous about going to your best friend’s birthday party. Hell, under normal circumstances you would’ve been the first one there. But there were two things that had held you back.

The gift. You’d taken a gamble getting this but you’d banked on the fact that he would get the inside joke.

Your feelings for Yeosang. They’d morphed into ‘more than friends’ and you were certain that he could tell and that the vibes were off between you now.

Jongho was the one to finally open the door and let you inside, calling into the apartment so that everyone knew you were here. No room to hide now.

Throughout most of the evening, you’d managed to avoid Yeosang until it came time to open the presents, and you found yourself seated next to him on the couch.

‘He’s so beautiful,’ you mused to yourself before shaking yourself back to reality.

The tension between in your body grew as Yeosang opened every gift until only yours remained.

“Hmm, I wonder what this is?” Yeosang said carefully pulling the paper away from the small box.

You held your breath.

It was a candle. A custom scented candle that you’d had made using a combination of his favourite smells. Something sweet, fresh and a little bit earthy.

Yeosang was quick to pull the candle out and sniff it, a smile on his face.

“I love you.” He looked over. “Thank you.”

No one else seemed to have heard it and at first you weren’t sure you had either. The way Yeosang casually went back to telling everyone about the joke of the candles, you debated whether he had realised what he’d said at all.

The party goes by in a blur after that and when you come to your senses again, you realise that everyone has now left expect for you and the two roommates. Yunho and Yeosang look around their apartment and you quickly jump up to help them start the cleaning up process. They try to dissuade you but you’d do anything to stop from thinking about what happened earlier. With your help, the job is finished in no time at all and Yunho declares that he’s going to bed, leaving you and Yeosang alone.

“Thanks for coming tonight,” he tells you.

“Did you mean what you said?”

“Right now or…”

For a moment you contemplate abandoning this conversation and just going home never knowing. But you can’t.

“When you opened my gift, you said that you love me.”

Yeosang opens and closes his mouth, forehead creased as he thinks back.

“But I do love you,” he says, again far too casually for your liking. “You’re my best…”

“But do you just love me as a best friend or do you love me love me?”

You didn’t mean to cut him off. You draw back with a soft apology.

“Look, I’ve been a little in my own head about us, our relationship,” you confess. “I just need to know how you feel about me.”

The two of you stare at each other. There’s muffled noise from up the passage but neither of you register it until Yunho’s head pops into the doorway.

“I don’t mean to eavesdrop,” he says, causing you and Yeosang to whip your gazes to him. “I just thought I’d let you know that he does feel the same way, he’s just really bad at expressing it.”

With a curt nod, Yunho disappears again, leaving you to deal with that bomb shell.

When you look back at Yeosang, you can see red creeping up his neck and ears.

“That’s not how I wanted to tell you,” he says in a whisper before raising his voice again. “But I do love you. I love you love you.”

You’re quick to wrap your arms around him and breath him in. He smells like clean linen.

“Good. Cause I think I love you love you too.”

~

San:

It’s Friday evening and it is finally time to open another letter. This had become your routine ever since San had gifted you the shoebox filled with white envelopes just over half a year ago. It lived on your coffee table in your lounge which is where you now found yourself after a long week, ready to be comforted by the words of your best friend. Although he wasn’t away at the moment but he was still busy – this would have to do.

‘Week 23’

Hastily you open the envelope and pull out the letter.

‘To my best friend

I can’t believe this is already the 23rd letter I’ve written. Kind of wild. It’s also very late right now so I apologise for the choice I’m about to make. I probably won’t remember that I wrote this tomorrow when I wake up but I feel like I have to tell you. We’ve known each other for a long time now, you’re my best friend. I’d even say you’re closer than a best friend. You’ve seen parts of me that no one else ever has and I wouldn’t trust anyone else with the secrets I’ve told you. So, I’m trusting you with one more.

I don’t want to just be your best friend. I want us to be more. I’ve had feelings for you for a while now but for the sake of our friendship, I’ve kept them to myself. But I can’t do it any longer. If you don’t feel the same way, you can throw this letter away and never mention it again. But if by some small miracle you do, come find me. I’ll be waiting for you.

All my love

San.’

The thumping of your heart in your chest is the only thing keeping you from thinking that this is a dream. The implications of his words swim around your head. He gave you this almost six months ago. He wrote the letters before then. How long has San felt about you the way you feel about him?

You almost fall over yourself as you get up and gather your belongings. You can’t wait a second longer. You’re going to find him.

You knock rapidly on the door to the apartment. Theres a sense of urgency that drives you forward buzzing through your body; what if he’s changed his mind since then?

It’s Mingi who opens the door.

“Hey, what are you…?

“Is he here?” You don’t even let him finish.

“We just got home, what do you… ok never mind.”

Mingi lets you shove him aside and move into their home. With determination you make your way to San’s room, knocking again and letting yourself in when no one objects. Time stands still when you see him. San smiles at you, saying something about how he’d hug you but he’s been working out and he doesn’t want to gross you out.

“Do you still…” You stop yourself short, looking down at the letter. “You said…”

There’s a confused look on your best friend’s face when you look at him again so you hold the paper out to him. San takes it from you and realisation washes over him as he reads it.

“Do you still feel that way?” You finally manage to ask, dreading what his answer could be. All of this could end up being a huge mistake.

His eyes meet yours, expression sombre.

“You didn’t throw it away.” He states calmly.

“No.” You shake your head a little. “I came to find you.”

Slowly, a smile breaks out onto San’s face and you find yourself wrapped in his arms. Finally, the sense of urgency that had been driving you till now dissipates.

It’s an unspoken agreement that things are different now but you don’t care. Best friends, more than best friends. As long as you’re close to San, that’s all that matters.

~

Mingi:

To be honest, it’s been a little weird between the two of you since that night. Normally, Mingi would message you every day, even if it was something stupid like a meme or a joke. The past few days there’s been nothing but radio silence from him. At first you tried to contact him but when you got no reply, you lost a bit of hope and decided that it wasn’t worth hurting yourself even more.

The thought of reaching out to one of your mutual friends had come to mind; even that seemed like crossing a line now.

It’s been almost a week since you’d last spoken to Mingi. The entire world feels out of order as you try to busy yourself with anything other than the thought of him, the thought of losing him. Despite the fact that it’s getting late into the night, your apartment feels like a cage so you pull your shoes on and head out. There’s no destination in mind. You just know that you have to move.

You’re stopped dead in your tracks though when you get to the street only to find a familiar car parked out front and your best friend sitting in the driver’s seat. Mingi runs his hands through his hair and you reason to guess that he’s been doing that for a while, judging by the way it stands up in various directions.

A little voice in the back of your head tells you to run back inside and avoid him forever. A debate begins inside of yourself but before you can make a decision, Mingi’s noticed you standing and staring intently at him. You meet each other’s eye. He reaches over and opens the passenger side door without a word and you need no further invitation to climb in.

For a short while, he just drives. It seems that without having to tell him, he’s understood what you had wanted to do before you’d run into him.

“I’m sorry.” You break the silence. Truthfully, you don’t know exactly what you’re apologising for but it feels like the right thing to say.

“No, I’m sorry.” Mingi says. “I’ve been a jackass.”

“Yeah, you kind of have.” There’s a bubbling of anger inside of you. “You just… disappeared on me, Mingi!”

Timidly, he looks over at you. It’s clear he’s trying to figure out how to explain himself but the words just aren’t coming out. The car rolls to a stop as he pulls off the road and switches off the engine.

“Look.” You shift in your seat so that you can face him before you continue. “If what I said made you feel uncomfortable then I’m sorry. We can just pretend that it never happened and go back to… before that happened.”

On top of the anger, desperation is starting to build. You can’t lose Mingi over this; not over your mistake.

“I can’t forget about it,” Mingi all but whispers. “How do you forget the person you have a crush on saying that you’re perfect?”

It takes a second for it register in your mind.

“You’ve been avoiding me because you like me?”

Mingi seems almost ashamed as he looks down, hands twisting over the steering wheel as he grips it.

“I panicked.” He confesses. “I didn’t think that you meant it like… that. I still don’t think it.”

If you hadn’t been hindered by the space of the car, you’d have thrown your arms around him and held onto him tightly. Instead, you reach for the hand that’s closest to you, pulling it off of the steering wheel and into your lap. The action is enough to get his eyes to lift and look at you.

“Mingi. I did mean it like that. I thought you were avoiding me because you didn’t like me back.”

“I’m sorry.” He says, now clasping your hands in his.

“You don’t have to apologise.” In a moment of bravery, you raise his hand and press a kiss to his knuckles. “You’re perfect just the way you are.”

~

Wooyoung:

You wait impatiently on the pavement. He was meant to be here eight minutes ago, not that you’re keeping track of the time or anything, but with no word from him you’re tempted to just abandon the ride and go back into your building and get lost in a series. But as you peer down at your phone for the hundredth time, the roar of an engine catches your ear.

You’d know the sound of Wooyoung’s motorbike even in your sleep.

He screeches to a halt in front of you, the kickstand hitting the ground without even turning the engine off and takes your helmet off of his arm and practically shoves it onto your head. He then hastily ushers you onto the seat behind him before taking off again once your arms are loosely around his waist. Honestly, you don’t know what the big rush is for. There’s nowhere you two need to be; this was just meant to be a casual afternoon ride to unwind after one hell of a week.

Tap tap.

Your grip on Wooyoung’s body tightens just before he accelerates. If you could get away with doing this with him any other time you definitely would. Despite how affectionate your best friend was, you never pushed yourself onto him, so these stolen moments while he rode you to who knows where were everything.

It’s five minutes later when Wooyoung pulls up next to an open park.

“Come on, we have to go!” He all but shoves you off of his bike, grabbing your hand after you’ve taken your helmets off and pulling you forward.

“Wooyoung, what is the rush?” You say exasperated but you let him haul you along.

The other people around you are a blur as he forges on, leading you down path after path.

“I don’t want us to miss the sunset!”

You want to shout at him. All this hullabaloo for a sunset!?

Once he’s dragged you to the top of a small hill and parked you on a bench do you let loose.

“Wooyoung! You infuriate me!”

At first, he looks a little sheepish but it turns into a naughty smile after only a second.

“Maybe but you still love me.”

His words shut you up immediately.

Wooyoung places himself next to you, slinging an arm over your shoulder. You shuffle a little closer to him but not enough to make any difference.

“Are you going to tell me what’s so important about the sunset now or should I just guess?” You query.

“Just cause…” He trials off but you feel him tap your shoulder twice.

“Why do you do that?” You gaze up at him. “Tap me even when we’re not riding.”

It’s Wooyoung’s turn to shuffle in his seat, unintentionally edging himself closer to you.

“It’s how I let you know that I love you.”

Once again, you’re left stunned at how casually he says those words.

“Do you mean it?” You dare to ask, your gaze focused on him and only him.

The sun in front of you continues its slow descent.

“Always.” Wooyoung looks at you, his eyes glancing down at your lips ever so quickly.

Despite what he says, there’s still a part of you that thinks he doesn’t mean it. He’s only saying it because he’s your friend and there’s nothing more to read into.

You feel something on your shoulder.

Tap tap.

‘Love you.’

Your breath catches in your throat as you think back on all the times your best friend has done that simple action. All the times he’s confessed and you just didn’t know.

“I love you too,” you tell him.

Wooyoung smiles, pulling you closer to him and finally pressing his lips to yours. Even while you kiss, there it is again.

Tap tap.

You’ll never think of it the same way again.

~

Jongho:

“Did you switch off all the lights in the lounge?” You ask as you put away your clothes.

Jongho appears from the bathroom, toothbrush in his mouth still, mumbling words you don’t understand.

“I have no idea what you’re trying to say.”

Jongho, holds up one finger telling you to wait before he disappears again.

As far as sleepovers with your best friend went, this was not out of the ordinary. A little bit of chaos, a little bit of humour. A whole lot of unresolved feelings from your side.

You’d accepted your fate of only being Jongho’s friend and nothing more, and opted to never let him know how you really feel about him.

Jongho returns again to tell you that he did switch off all the lights, he’s not an idiot.

“Could’ve fooled me,” you laugh before a pillow is abruptly thrown your way.

It’s harmless fun but damn it does it break your heat to imagine him doing this with anyone else.

You return the pillow to where it belongs on the bed, slip under the covers and snuggle in for the night, ignoring those feelings welling inside of your chest.

“Do we have plans for the morning?” Jongho asks as he too climbs into the bed.

“Nope. Not unless you want to do something.”

“The only thing I want to do is sleep in.”

You hum in agreement already looking forward to it.

The room goes dark and you feel Jongho settle down next to you; you facing him, his back to you. The proximity is something you’ve been acutely aware of since that cold, rainy morning. It hadn’t happened again that he’d pulled you that close to him and you weren’t sure whether to be relieved or disappointed.

“Stop thinking so loudly,” Jongho says, turning over to face you even though he can’t see you.

“I’m not thinking loudly.” Your attempt to deflect doesn’t work on your best friend.

“Tell me what’s wrong.”

A part truth is better than nothing, you decide.

“There’s this boy that I like. But I don’t think he wants to be anything more than friends. And everything we do together, I overthink it wondering if he’d rather be doing it with someone else.”

You wonder if you’ve said too much – if you’ve given the game away. Then you feel an arm over your torso and Jongho pulls you closer to him, holding you against him. You don’t dare to breath.

“Whoever he is, he’s an idiot if he doesn’t want to be with you,” he says. “I’d always pick you.”

You’re dead certain that he can feel how fast your heart is beating. A thousand thoughts begin to fly through your head all at once.

How can he just say something like that? Does he know that it’s him? Will I ever be able to get over him now?

“You’re thinking too loudly again.” He sighs as he soothingly rubs his hand over your back. “Talk to me.”

“Do you promise not to get mad?”

“Why would I get mad?”

“Because you might not want to be my friend anymore if I tell you.”

His movements cease for just a moment and then he promises.

With a deep inhale, you tell him the truth.

“It’s you.”

You wait for him to turn you down. To get up and leave. For the end to begin.

“Thank goodness,” Jongho utters quietly and at first, you’re not sure that you heard him properly. “I was about to get mad that it was someone else.”

“You… you like me?” You ask, still wondering if that is what he really meant with everything he was saying.

His body vibrates as he laughs quietly.

“Do I need to make it clearer? I’m infatuated with you.” Jongho places a kiss to the top of your head. “I meant it when I said that I’d always pick you.”

He snuggles you as close as he can and you finally let your mind go quiet.

[vickyzangels]

hii!! can you write smut about tom were you're sucking his dick for the first time? hes just looking down at your teary eyes and getting more and more turned on GAHHWD🤕🙏

% “always be my boy, i'll always be your girl.”

# synopsis ; what the ask said‼️‼️

# pairing ; tom kaulitz x reader

# word count ; 490

# tags ; nsfw (mdni), oral (m receiving), degradation, should’ve pumped this bitch out in a day but i got stressed while procrastinating it and adhd made me deep clean my bathroom instead (who knew bleach could make a tub smell like a public chlorine pool) so who knows if its bad

a/n ; i’m hitting post and running away this was so bad I’M VOMITTINH

tom is a head pusher. you probably would have gathered that if you assumed based off what he’s said in his interviews before, but nothing could’ve prepared you to be kneeling in front of him for what was close to a consecutive hour. do you remember what led up to this point? no, if that doesn’t count giving each other hickeys almost aggressively after a big interview on a show.

regardless, you were practically being used. head rolled back, offering a view of tom’s jawline as he groaned up into the air about how you were on your knees letting him fuck into your mouth with your hands braced against his legs. you’d been doing nothing but letting him use you, gagging around his length as reward for cooperating so well.

spit from your mouth starts to spill down your chin, mirroring the tears and whatever smoky makeup you had put on before the show from your eyes actively running down your face. your gagging starts to get a little louder from his quickening pace, and in taking notice, he looks down to mock and smile at you.

“..was für eine schmutzige hure.” what a dirty whore.

he groans, making sure to emphasize each word with a hard thrust down your relaxed throat, “take it, take it all like a good girl since you want it so bad.”

and you do. maybe it was the way the interviewer kept making sly advances towards your boyfriend the entire time, and yet he dodged every one of them so naturally but he even made sure to mention you in nearly every answer he could, maybe that was why you wanted his thick cock in your mouth so bad.

through your eyes rolling back and tom hitting the back of your throat over and over again, you gathered enough composure to start swirling and lapping your tongue around his length, keeping extra attention aside to keep your cheeks hollow.

his thrusts faltered a bit, his hips slowing down stuttering but nevertheless still rocking himself into your mouth. continuing his pace, both hands you braced on his legs slid up to paw at his length and pull your head back to the tip just to fall back to the hilt of his cock. tom’s guidance began to fall short, moving to just rest on your head while you started to control the moving.

the simple up-and-down motion evolved into a maneuvering to give special attention to his tip and make space for your hands that stroked and rubbed with the pace of your lapping, using spit that spilled from your mouth to make a messy lube.

if you told tom from however long ago that you weren’t sucking the soul out of his dick that you’d never gave a blowjob before and were later going to give him possibly the most earth-shattering orgasm of his life with little to no guidance, he might’ve laughed.

a/n ; long time no seeeeee 😋😋 im not even gonna lie to you guys cause this is tumblr i dont have to live in fear >:( but i did suck dick to method write for this, love you guyssss

a/n 2 ; if yg on my taglist dont fw the tagging anymore lmk i’ll take you off‼️

© ALL RIGHTS BELONG TO VICKYZANGELS. do not steal, repost, plagiarize, or use my work for anything.

taglist ; @lixs-l4cefairy @imabitchh @arquiiva @verelace @iovemoonyy @bl1ngringz

[aestherians]

Change and Loss

Word count: 1362

Expected reading time: 10-11 minutes

"If your otherkinity still serves you, it will never really leave you," is what I used to say - more as a reassurance than a statement of fact. I mean, how could I know for a fact that it was true? I didn't have any experience with losing a kintype. I still don't think I do; not really. And I always saw the idea repeated in the community - one time otherkind, always otherkind.

But I don't believe that's true anymore. I'm still a bison for sure. I've never doubted that. I'm still Ɐwhrayɐ the gnoll and I'm still Ben the shapeshifter… but I'm beginning to accept that those sides of me have changed.

"One time otherkin, always otherkin. If your otherkinity still serves you, it will never really leave you"… but what if that's not true? What if you still benefit from your kintypes, and they disappear regardless? What do you do if you lose a part of yourself, or if a part of yourself becomes unrecognizable to you? How do you keep living when you've lost yourself?

Sometime in 2023 the distress of always having to hide my true self became too much to bear alone. But I'm not a brave person. I think the better solution would've been to just bite the bullet and start expressing myself, but hindsight is 20/20. I've survived 25 years by hiding everything that makes me 'weird', and the idea of leaving my one dependable survival strategy behind was (is) terrifying. I went to a free self-help seminar ("Take control of your life!") but all it taught me is that I need a dependable support network before I can take control of my life. I went to my doctor to try and get a referral for a therapist (it's cheaper than just finding your own therapist). Instead he sent me to a psychiatrist for my 'delusions'. The psychiatrist told me my experiences, worldview, and self-perception were unusual but not harmful - they could only help if my goal was to get rid of my schizotypal traits (traits that weren't even significant enough to warrant a diagnosis). If all I wanted was to learn how to conquer my fears and express my true self, they couldn't help. It took months of visits to get the diagnosis: Traumatized by peer abuse, too poor to afford my own therapy, and too anxious and ADHD to even find a therapist in the first place.

I can't even say I was left at square one. I had started out hopeful. Nearing the end of 2023, I just felt helpless.

At the same time, my studies were drawing to a close. I completed my bachelor's degree in animal science and all it took was a diagnosis of ADHD so I could legally buy amphetamines, a compound-diagnosis of autism so I wouldn't get kicked out when I inevitably misunderstood exam questions and failed final after final, and 5½ years - almost twice the expected time for a bachelor's degree in my country.

It should've been freeing but instead it left me directionless. Helpless and directionless - that's how I entered 2024!

In the past, in the strictly structured day-to-day of school, my kintypes have been a source of comfort. Especially my Ben fictotype, which probably fell into the category of coping mechanism. I awakened in a time of intense stress and retreated to that world whenever my present life got too much. When crowds got me overstimulated or I missed an important deadline or fought with my neighbors or drifted apart from old friends, I thought about all the times Ben!me had gone through similar or worse. I cut off a friend in my present life after finding out he'd abused his ex - but in my other life I'd cut off a friend who tried to murder me, and things still turned out fine. I lived through it. I could live through it again. Every situation had a parallel in my other life.

I still don't know why that method failed me, but eventually it did. It's not that it didn't work, it was more that I suddenly had to put an effort into making it work. As if I'd always been able to enter Narnia and now suddenly I had to personally petition Aslan to let me back in. It started in the fall of 2023 but it wasn't until spring 2024 that I fully realized. Coping had never been an effort before, and the worst part is, I don't even know why it suddenly was.

My fictotype was drifting away, even when it still served me! This wasn't supposed to happen! Had I been lied to?!

I think our community has a lot of survivorship bias. Whichever mailing lists and newsgroups get archived, and whatever snailmail gets published, that's what our history is based on. The people who made archivable geocities sites get to write our story - not the people on closed forums or in private chat groups. People who leave the community don't tend to leave behind pristine essays on their fully archived websites explaining why they left. It does happen, don't get me wrong, but it's rare. And when they do leave behind messages, it's usually some variant of "I still love the community that fostered my awakening, I'm just an adult with responsibilities now and I don't have time for this."

But what about the people who don't love the community? Who 'unawakened'? Who aren't passionate enough to leave behind a final message? Do we ever hear from the otherkind who 'fizzled out' and became human - or at least lost a kintype?

You can understand my panic, right? I considered turning my fictotype into a copinglink, but my ADHD is so debilitating I barely remember to brush my teeth - no way I was gonna remember to do daily reinforcement exercises. Especially frazzled 2024 me (still frazzled as of June but I'm hanging in there!).

I was forced to accept whatever my come.

I'm still Ben, on some level, but I won't say "I'm thankfully still Ben," 'cause is it really that bad to not be Ben? Even if that facet had served me well and could still serve me? $1,000,000 could serve me well, but uselessly pining after it doesn't serve me.

I didn't prepare myself for loss because I really wasn't sure I was gonna lose a part of me - and, in any case, grieving preemptively is a waste of energy if you ask me. Instead a turned to the Bison - not my own bison theriotype, but the archetype of the Bison. When one woowoo solution fails, why not try another?

The Bison has always been a good teacher to me - better than any self-help seminar or psychiatrist. The Bison takes everything in stride. The Bison survives until it can thrive. The Bison ruminates on the present, it doesn't ponder the future. The Bison doesn't grieve or fret unnecessarily. It exists in the now. I exist in the now.

Of course, the chance that anyone reading this works with the Bison spirit is slim, but I think its teachings can help everyone - regardless of spirituality.

When turning to other worlds doesn't aid you, accept it, and turn to the present world. Let your worries pass through you, you can't see clearly when you're pent up with worry. You can't prevent the seasons from turning, all you can do is turn with them. Accept your lack of control, instead of trying to grasp at the uncontrollable. Sometimes change is unexpected, and you may not like it, and it might not even open up new doors for you. Not all change is good. But you cannot prevent every unwanted change, and you have to keep living regardless.

My fictionkinity doesn't have the intensity of my first few years post-awakening, but it also doesn't have the casual reassuredness of decade-old kintypes. It comes and goes, and when it comes it's like a whisper. And one day it might become too quiet for me to notice. One day it might not return.

But I think I can live with that.

[drabbles-mc]

Left, Right, Straight

Carmy Berzatto x GN!Reader

Warnings: 18+, language, angst, hurt/comfort, Berzatto Family Trauma

Word Count: 2.5k

A/N: i've been Going Thru It so i sat down and spat this out into the docs at 11pm last night. carmy was due for some fic-time.

When you’d fallen asleep earlier, you vaguely remembered Carmy still being awake at the time. You were comfortably disappearing between the comforter and the mattress while he was sitting up with his back against the headboard and his sketchpad in his hands. You mumbled out a goodnight and he’d returned the gesture, that familiar little trace of warmth in his voice as he had.

You didn’t check the time on your phone to know how long ago that had been, but you knew that enough time had passed that he should be asleep by now. He was at least laying down now, but he was still awake. He was lying on his side facing you, the blue light from his phone screen illuminating the exhaustion in his eyes and the messy curls falling onto his forehead.

Out of habit you reached over and rested your hand on his arm. He flinched, not having realized that you woke up. You continued on anyway. “You sleep yet?” you asked, voice raspy.

He shook his head, the small movement causing the pillowcase to ruffle slightly underneath his head. “Not yet.”

You hummed in acknowledgment. “’m sorry.”

Another head shake. “It’s okay.”

The reason you’d woken up in the first place was because your bladder simply wouldn’t let you get an honest six hours straight of sleep. Giving Carmy’s arm a light squeeze, you rolled and got yourself out of bed. The bedroom was pitch black but you dragged your feet and held your hands out enough to make sure that you didn’t break yourself or something else as you sleepily stumbled your way to the bathroom.

It only took about four seconds for the water from the bathroom sink to turn hot, but those four seconds of ice cold water hitting your hands and wrists was enough to wash most of the drowsiness out of you. A few long blinks later you were making your way back to the bedroom, eyes more adjusted to the darkness.

The bedroom wasn’t cloaked in total darkness anymore—Carmy turned on the flashlight of his phone in the hopes of making your return to bed a little easier. He was laying on his back now, phone held above his face in a way that was an accident waiting to happen. Even though you could only see the side of his face you could still see the stress in his brows, the frown pulling at his lips.

When you sat back on the mattress, you didn’t slip back beneath the covers. Instead, you pulled your legs so that you were sitting cross-legged next to him. He could feel that you weren’t getting ready to go back to sleep and looked over at you. Confusion momentarily overrode the stress in his features. Reaching over, you turned on the lamp on your bedside table. It caused both of you to squint for a moment as your eyes fought to adjust.

Carmy set his phone down on his chest, one hand resting over it while the other reached for your knee that was closest to him. “You okay?”

You chuckled softly as you set your hand over his. “Are you okay?” You shook your head at the bewildered look he gave you in response to your question, like he couldn’t understand why you’d ask him such a thing. “You haven’t slept yet.” You ran your thumb over his knuckles. “Anything you wanna talk about?”

The sigh he let out let you know the answer before he even spoke. “I don’t even know.”

“Okay.” You paused, still rubbing your thumb across his knuckles. “You think you’re gonna get any sleep at all?”

He chuckled. “Um. Probably…probably not.”

You allowed yourself to let out a small laugh at that. “Sounds right.” You let out a sigh as you thought about what you wanted to say or offer next. “You wanna go for a drive?”

His brows pulled together. “What?”

You shrugged. “Wanna go for a drive? You’re not gonna sleep, I feel awake now. Might as well?”

There was a small smile fighting its way onto his face. He didn’t look any less lost at the suggestion, but you had a feeling that he was going to give in. You let the silence between you linger as he thought it over. The impulse to try and convince him, to say something more, was a tough one to fight. But you’d gotten better at it as the months had gone on.

“Are you gonna drive?” he finally asked.

You laughed and nodded. “Yeah. I don’t think it’s the smartest move to have the guy who hasn’t gotten any sleep be the one behind the wheel.”

He chuckled, watching as you got back out of bed once more and started to dig around for sweatpants and a hoodie to wear. “Right.” He followed your lead, getting out of bed and looking for a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt to wear. He was jamming his feet into his sneakers when he snapped his gaze over to you. “Wait, wait. Is, is this…is this like that shit people do with babies? You’re gonna try and drive me around until I fall asleep?”

You broke down laughing. “No, actually. But maybe if I had a car seat big enough for you that just might work.” You shoved your hands into the kangaroo pouch pocket of your hoodie as you waited by the doorway of your bedroom. “C’mon.”

Late spring didn’t make the dead of night any less cold. Both of you walked towards your car, and as soon as you turned the key in the ignition, you reached and turned the heat up as well. You glanced over at Carmy as he hunkered down in the passenger seat, sinking a little lower as he tried to nestle in and force himself to be comfortable despite whatever was going on in his mind that was creating such discomfort within him.

He watched you as you looked back over your shoulder before pulling out onto the road. It wasn’t busy, and he hadn’t expected it to be, but there were still a few cars out on the road. He briefly wondered if any of them were doing the same thing that the two of you were. Or maybe they had their lives together a little bit more.

“Where are we going?” he asked as you drove down the street.

You shrugged, one hand resting on top of the steering wheel, the other resting against the edge of the closed car window. “Nowhere in particular. Why?” You gave him a brief glance before returning your attention back to the road. “Got someplace in mind?”

He shook his head. “No. No.” He looked out the window. “I don’t think so.”

You nodded. “Okay. If you think of somewhere let me know. Otherwise I’ll just keep cruising around until I hear you start snoring.”

The tiny smile returned to his face again and you took it for the win that it was. There was no forcing anything with him, a fact you’d had to reckon with over the course of your relationship. There was no forcing him to open up about what he was thinking or feeling. There was no forcing him to allow himself to have a good time or enjoy good feelings. It’d happen when he let it and you just had to be ready when he did. Most of the times you were patient enough for it, sometimes you weren’t and you both paid the price for it. Tonight, though, you were.

“This what you do?” Carmy asked after a few minutes passed by with nothing but the radio filling the slowly-warming air of your car.

“Hm?”

“When you can’t sleep? This what you do?”

You shrugged and nodded. “Kind of. Not as much anymore. But when I still lived back home, there wasn’t much else to do if you were bored, or stressed and unable to sleep. Driving, by myself or with my friends, was kind of…it,” you said with a laugh, knowing how that might’ve sounded. “But I really liked it. It helped a lot.”

“Why’d you stop?”

You chuckled and looked over at him. “Way more traffic in Chicago.”

He laughed at that and the two of you fell back into silence once more. Every now and then you’d glance over at him, looking for any changes in his expression. Hoping to see him fidgeting a little less. You turned around another block and that’s when you saw him toying with a pack of cigarettes in his hands. Normally you asked for him, for everyone, to not smoke in your car. But this seemed like as good of a time as any to break that rule.

“It’s fine, Carm,” you said before gesturing to the pack in his hands. “Go ahead.”

The relief on his face was instant but he still asked, “You sure?”

You nodded. “Just crack the window.”

His jitters slowed as smoke started to stream out the sliver of an opening at the top of the window. In your peripheral you could see the way that he was gawking at how the city looked at this hour. Quiet, but not silent. Drowsy, but not quite dead. Different from how it felt during all the other hours he found himself walking up and down the concrete sidewalks.

“When I was little,” Carmy spoke up out of nowhere, forehead pressing lightly against the passenger window, “I remember Mikey used to take us for drives.”

Your eyebrows raised out of curiosity. This wasn’t the start of a story that you’d heard before. “Yeah?”

He nodded before taking another drag off his cigarette. “Yeah. When, you know, when Donna would lose her shit sometimes. He, he definitely,” he laughed despite the fact that this story wasn’t going to be a happy or funny one, “definitely shouldn’t have been fuckin’ driving.” He shook his head. “No license or anything.”

You hummed in amusement. “Sounds right.”

“Yeah,” he agreed, reaching up and tapping the ash off the end of his cigarette out the window. “I don’t think I realized it then, though. What, what he was doing. I don’t…I didn’t know he was just trying to get us out of the house and away from Donna.”

He paused for a moment, mulling over the memories that were coming back through the static. “Where would he take you?”

He shook his head. “Nowhere. We’d just drive and drive until, I don’t know, until he felt like it was safe to go back into the fuckin’ demolition zone at home.” He rested the cigarette between his lips, hesitating on pulling what would be the final drag of it. Smoke slowly curled past his lips as he continued to speak. “He’d, uh, he’d make it a game. He called it,” a dry chuckle fell from his lips, “Left, Right, Straight.” He turned and looked over at you as you rolled through a yellow light. “Guess what the rules were?”

You knew that you had no chance of hiding the emotion in your eyes and your expression as you turned to look at him. Carmy didn’t wany your sympathy, never really had, so you tried not to give it to him. Still, you couldn’t always hide the way that your heart hurt for him after everything he’d been through. You took a breath, making sure your voice was steadier than your feelings. “I’m assuming that they had something to do with lefts and rights?”

He smiled at you before dropping the butt of his cigarette out the window and closing it all the way again. “Yeah. Every, uh, every red light or stop sign we’d come to, he’d ask us, ‘Left, right, or straight?’ and whatever we said, that’s what he’d do.” He paused, smile fading from his face. “Sugar and I would take turns picking. Sometimes we’d remember to make him pick too.”

“See a lot of Chicago that way?”

“More than we probably should have,” he replied honestly, a little bit of lightness in his voice. “I don’t know how we always ended up making it back home. I’m surprised he didn’t just…” he trailed off as he gestured vaguely at your windshield with one hand.

“Having no license might’ve had something to do with it.”

His laugh came out as a sharp exhale through his nose. “Maybe. Thinking about it now, though. Like, he really just…he really let two actual children in the back seat tell him where to go. We didn’t know what the fuck we were saying, you know? And it’s not, it’s not like he had a fuckin’ GPS to get him back home…” his voice quieted down. He shrugged. “Maybe he didn’t really care if we found our way back home.”

“But you always did,” you said softly.

Carmy nodded. “Yeah. Still don’t know if that was a good thing or not.”

You frowned, knowing how much he meant that, how deeply that conflict ran. “I know.”

Carmy was staring intently at his hands. “He didn’t have to do that, you know?”

“Take you home?”

“Take us with him.” He looked over at you even though he knew that you couldn’t really look back at him as you drove. “He could’ve just jacked Mom’s keys and gone off by himself. But he dragged Sugar by the sleeve of her coat and shoved sneakers that never matched onto my feet and tossed us both in there with him.”

The smile on your face felt heavy. “He loved you guys.”

Carmy let his focus shift back to the windshield, to the street lamps and neon signs that were cutting through the darkness of the streets. “I don’t remember the last time we did it. I don’t…I don’t remember why we stopped.”

“He ever tell you how he thought of it?”

Carmy shook his head. “No.” He let out a weak laugh. “He never told us how he thought of anything, though. Not, not really. Not in a way that ever made any fuckin’ sense.”

“Hmm,” you hummed in thought.

“What?”

“No, no. That just,” you looked over at him and gave him a cheeky smile, “that sounds kind of familiar for some reason. I feel like I know someone else who gets like that sometimes.”

He let out the closest thing to a real laugh that you’d heard all night. “Wh-what? I, I make sense.”

“To you.”

“Yeah. Well…yeah,” he punctuated the sentence with another chuckle. He drummed his fingers against his knee. “Maybe he heard that thing about driving babies around to make them fall asleep.”

You laughed and nodded. “Yeah, maybe.”

Carmy brought his hand up to cover his mouth as he yawned, not that it stopped him from trying to talk through it. “Wonder if that even works.”

You cast a glance over at him as you turned back onto another block, putting yourself so that you would slowly start making your way back to your apartment. “Yeah,” you smiled as Carmy’s had strayed over and rested on your thigh as you drove, “I wonder.”

(divider by @silkholland 💞)

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[venerawrites]

Headcanon When Itachi is sick and his s/o is taking care of him

author's note: stupid me missed the part where it said it was headcanons request, so I started writing it as a drabble 😭 Anyway, I fixed it, so I really hope you enjoy! Thank you so much for requesting! <3

Itachi is probably one of the most stubborn men in the Naruto universe. In his mind, he is made to care for and protect those close to him, even if at the expense of his own well-being.

He hates making people around him worry, and especially his s/o. It is bad enough that they are constantly stressed by him being part of Akatsuki and Sasuke seeking his revenge, they do not need additional reasons to worry.

With that being said, Itachi's first instinct once he gets sick is to simply stay away. He never gives a time by when he must be back from a mission, so this easily gives him 2-3 days to rest and get back on his feet before he visits his lover.

As a ninja who travelled all over the world and survived some of the harshest weather conditions, the Uchiha rarely got sick. It happened once every few years, but when it did - it was BAD.

Maybe it was the constant cold rain in Amegakure or the poison arrow with which one of the village's guards managed to hit him (or maybe even both), but just a day after he and Kisame left, he found himself so weak and tired, his teammate had to carry him all the back.

Not wanting to bring him back to the base, the first place Kisame thought of was Itachi's s/o's house.

I've said before that I always imagined Itachi with someone who lives in a remote cottage and is either a herb gatherer or somehow knowledgeable when it comes to natural medicine.

One glance at the black-haired shinobi was enough for them to understand he must have caught the flu or some type of virus. Thankfully, they knew exactly what he needed and wouldn't waste even a minute, before grabbing their coat and running to the nearby village to buy some medical ingredients that were missing in their kitchen.

His s/o would totally pamper him like a baby, despite Itachi's protests and claims that "he is fine".

They would make all his medicine by scratch every single day till he gets better. Most of the time it took the form of either a paste or a tea, which they served with his meal.

If they have any medical ninjutsu knowledge, they will use it to ease his symptoms, but I doubt they will be that good to heal him completely.

Itachi would constantly huff about it, but he secretly loved the cozy space his partner managed to create using all the available pillows/blankets they found in their house.

As I said above, this man is very stubborn, so inevitably there will be some small arguments during that time. Mainly they were started by Itachi, who claimed he was feeling fine now (despite his pale face and loud cough), and finished by his s/o, who would always end up physically restraining him on the bed by laying next to him and hugging him.

In order to make sure he doesn't get up and move too much, his s/o would spend the majority of their day by his side. Reading books to him, telling him stories, playing board games, sometimes even gossiping... They will do anything to engage his mind and keep him distracted from the idea of trying to do stuff on his own.

Something he won't fight, however, is his s/o's massages. They would work on his aching muscles every single night, relieving the pain and the stress his body was feeling. Not only he love the feeling of his partner's hands on him, but it also greatly helps him relax and fall asleep.

With all of this treatment, it won't take long for Itachi to be back on his feet and spoil his s/o as reward for the good care they provided to him.

cc artwork: Oliver Beck

[ilovewanda]

i really liked the drabble you made about Professor Maximoff. would you be willing to write a one-shot about her and us? -🦈

ms. maximoff

ps: i think college and uni are the same thing… incase anyone calls it something else!

wanda has always known that she wanted to be a professor. she loved all of her professors in college, and she wanted to do the same thing that they did. so she did exactly that. she graduated college, best in her class with a major in english. she found a job at a very well known school with an excellent english program. everything went great for her. until y/n walked into her classroom for the first time.

y/n was a second year in college. also known as a sophomore. she was 19 years old with an intense passion for english. on the first day of class she made sure to be the first student to class so that she could find a good seat. y/n never had many friends in college. she loved to stay home and read or write instead of going out to parties.

wanda quickly noticed that y/n did not have many friends. the other students ignored her, and simply acted as if she wasn’t there. wanda thought this was insane. y/n is the most gorgeous person that wanda has ever seen. wanda believed that y/n’s beauty was truly out of this world.

y/n and wanda went through the first few weeks without ever speaking. they both stared at each other all class long, but nothing was ever said. until one day, right before christmas break, wanda said to y/n “hey y/n! i loved your essay about christmas. it was amazing just like all of your other writing. however, i saw that you said you are alone for christmas, is that true?”

y/n sighed as she looked down and nodded. this broke wanda’s heart. y/n softly says “my family and i aren’t on the best terms right now and they told me to just stay here so they don’t have to pay for my plane ticket… and i don’t really have friends.”

wanda frowns, and before she can even think about what she was saying, “come to my house on christmas! i don’t have any family either and we can have a nice dinner together, so that neither of us are alone!”. the two sit in silence for a moment before y/n nods her head with a smile on her face.

that was when it all changed. y/n went to wanda’s house on christmas, and they had a great evening, until wanda got out her expensive wine. both of them had too many drinks, and before they knew it, they were making out and y/n was on wanda’s lap. this was the first night that they had sex.

due to the alcohol, and how loved y/n felt, she called wanda “mommy” before she even processed it in her head. they both froze for a moment in shock, until wanda moans and proceeds what she was doing.

from this point on, wanda was y/n’s mommy, and y/n was wanda’s baby. the couple continued to fall deeper into these roles. y/n was always wanda’s baby, unless she was stressed. when y/n would get stressed over schoolwork, she would not want to be babied.

this upset wanda, so she knew what she had to do. stop y/n from receiving any homework from her class. at first y/n was surprised, but then she realized how much more free time she had without so much homework. y/n became much happier as the months went by, and when the end of the year came around, wanda sat y/n down to have a serious conversation.

“i think that you should stay with me this summer. i don’t want you to go home to your family with everything that is going on right now. i want you to stay with mommy, okay sweetheart?” y/n nods, and before she can stay anything, wanda continues.

“i also think that you shouldn’t go to college anymore. i make enough money to provide for the both of us, and you are so much happier when you don’t have any homework to do! you could even come to class with me and be my unofficial assistant if you want!”

y/n thinks for a moment. what if wanda breaks up with her? then she will have no degree and no career. “y/n i know what you’re thinking. i promise that i will take care of you forever, baby. i’m never leaving you.” y/n smiles and says “okay, mommy. i trust you.

y/n and wanda spent their summer spending every single moment together. they went to the beach, the pool, and even to a water park. once summer was over, wanda had to go back to work. y/n claimed that when wanda went back to work she would be fine and she wouldn’t get lonely when she was at home alone during the day.

a week after the first day of school, wanda comes home to see y/n crying. “my angel, what’s wrong?” wanda says as she picks y/n up and hugs her tightly. “i missed you so much mommy please don’t leave me again!” y/n said in between sobs. wanda frowns and pinky promises y/n that she can go to work with her from now on.

from this point on, wanda spent every class that she taught for the rest of her life, with y/n smiling in her lap with her favorite stuffed animal in her hands. the students were all very nice to y/n and the couple truly lived their happily ever after.