#[idk why I gotta pick out THAT thing out of everything

[triglycercule]

killer being like "yeah i know every single little thing about horror and dust" (because he watches them as a part time hobby (freak) (find something better to do)) and then he acts surprised when they do something that he wouldnt expect them to do in his little predetermined absolutely perfect concept of them

like what do you MEAN horror licks spoons clean when he's using them so he doesn't have to get a completely different one for the main course and the dessert. what do you MEAN dust has a lisp even though he speaks fluently and uses even more complex words than killer himself. horror knows how to sew and he often patches up their things without either of them noticing?? dust always wears oversized and clothes that cover him up just because he finds it comfy?? what??? out ra geous???? these guys have small little quirks to them that killer doesn't already know about???? killer immediately wants to know more. so he can expand his internal profile of them of course. not for any other more endearing and sweet reason. not at all,,,,,,,, (:3)

[swiftfootedachilles]

im just gonna be honest gang obviously its gonna be easy for you to say youre in love with a character and theyre an angel when anytime they do something you don't like you brush it off as out of character

[yutamayo]

...is it that obvious?

[buttercupblu]

God is Fair|The Lore

Devotional Love with Suguru x Reader|Two-Shot

Part 1|Part 2|Part 3

the deets: ever since you were young, you knew you were meant for each other. he came into your life like a storm and grew closer no matter how distant you seemed. he swelled and captured your heart every time he was near. so why did you keep fighting him? w.c: 12.7k (holy f*ck) out of idk yet for part-two the rest (god bless) tags: fem!reader, mostly angsty….pretty much 90% angst for part 1, repressed feelings, jealousy, lingering lips and fingers, a little bit of self-depreciation at the end but pick that crown up love, reader gets a little violent at the end 😳|if i missed anything, pls comment or DM ☺️ angel’s note: this story started as one thing and ended up as another—so goes the way of life. PSA: most of the good, filthy, mack-nasty shyt is in part 2/3, but you’ve gotta wade through the fire first to get it. It’s always worth it|thanks for reading 🖤 earworm 🐛: Chihiro|Billie Eilish

Over time, you became perfectly molded to him.

As did his lips to your tender bud that sank under his sinful tongue.

Slender fingers grip and drown under his raven locks, barely saving you from the shallow breaths you must take to stay alive.

You’re just above water, and he steals your air, spelling poetry with his tongue over your folding petals.

Broken coos spill from your puffy lips—his favorite melody to ever grace his ears.

Whether it was today, tomorrow, yesterday, or forever—you fall—in and in and even deeper into his grasp. Under the waves and trapped in his ocean—he gently pulls you under—your lungs yearning for air, but you never want out.

And the way he dives in, drowning to taste every drop, every sweet, delectable sip of your nectar like he could live the rest of his life without oxygen—tells you that he doesn’t either. 

You learned to love each other’s oceans and came to mix seas. Both treaded rough waters but learned to float with calm bodies.

Now you lie hand in hand, limbs weaved like vines through each other’s arms, as you cuddle. Completely spent from another night in each other’s depths. Grateful. Grateful for his love—his patience.

And wondering how on Earth you thought it’d be possible to exist without someone you swore you despised.

Suguru has always been the best—the best at being good, the best at being kind, the best at being quiet—the best at being better than you. 

When you were eight years old, he made his quiet introduction into your quaint little neighborhood, arriving in a flashy Mercedes-Benz followed by two moving trucks that pulled right into the driveway directly across the street from your humble home. Heels painted with red bottoms adorning stocking-covered legs were the first things you saw as you watched from your bedroom window. 

The sound of movers drew your attention. No one ever came to your city, let alone your cul-de-sac. You felt a shift. A change was coming.

A tall woman, her long, sleek ponytail blowing in the wind, stepped out of the driver’s seat wearing large couture shades that took up most of her face. The overhanging forecast made everything bleak and gray, but the sunglasses stayed. A man exited the passenger seat and came to the woman’s side. He gingerly took her hand and looked around with a small smile, gently rubbing her arm. She slightly grimaced and handed him what looked like one of those small, overpriced designer bags.

They looked so…out of place.

They had to smell like money.

What the heck were they doing here? 

In a city like yours, one of those places where everyone knows everyone and everybody's business, you instantly knew that this couple would be the talk of the town. At least with the adults.  

You blew air into your bangs. You weren’t expecting new neighbors, but they could have at least come with a kid—someone who might actually want you around. 

“Hey, Bug,” your dad called from the garden.

He always left the back door open so he could hear you in case you needed him. He must have heard the rumbling of their heavy trucks now being unloaded with elegant furniture. Would all of that even fit in there? Their house was bigger than yours but not by much. “Sounds like we’ve got new neighbors. Might go by later and say hi if you want to come.”

“No thanks.”

You turned back to the window, resting your head on your arms. Meeting Mr. and Mrs. Richy Rich didn't sound very appealing to you and might only make you feel worse on this already gloomy Spring day.

For once, you wanted to be pleasantly surprised and not just surprised with something you wouldn’t expect, like hitting the jackpot or whatever.

And then you saw him.

Inky black hair drawn into a short ponytail, emerging from the back seat of the fancy car and clutching a book thicker than his torso. His starched white-collar shirt and beige shorts reminded you of school. He kept his chin tucked and looked like the wind just might knock him over if the book wasn’t keeping him upright. 

He and the woman were near twins. Definitely mother and son. She smoothed her hands down her skirt and put on a genuine smile for him. The man draped his arm around the boy’s shoulders as he took in the neighborhood. Slow and sheepish. You thought his eyes caught yours when he looked behind him and you ducked under the window sill. 

Sh—

“You can’t stay cooped up in here all the time, Bug,” your dad called again. It sounded like he might be wrapping up. “You don’t know what you’re missing out on.”

You inched back up to the window and peered over the edge. The boy looked like he was just as lost as to why he was there.

Anxious. Reserved. Kind of boring. 

Not your speed.

You blew a raspberry and turned away. So much for that. You wouldn’t be missing much.

In your neighborhood, all the kids walked freely to each other’s houses to see if anyone was home. This was before everyone had cell phones to save time and figure it out for them. 

You watched it happen with the other kids all the time. They’d visit each other and either stay inside (super rare) or gather the rest of the neighborhood to play in the cul-de-sac or park. 

But you were never quite given a direct invitation.

The few friends you were close with moved away about a year ago, and the thought of making new ones who would eventually do the same kept you emotionally at arm's length. To make it worse, you swore the group you were left with undoubtedly hated you.

Why?

Because you had a history of sucking. 

Everyone else in the neighborhood was naturally good at something. Anything. Everything.

But you?

You had to try.

Mess up. And try again. At almost anything you could name.

Basketball? Trash. 

Tag? You were slow.

Football? Pssssh. As if—like you’d let yourself get hurt? You sat out every time.

So, the kids stopped inviting you or always picked you last. Both were grimy slaps in the face. Because you always knew you could be better. Delulu was the solulu if they’d only give you a chance. Or two. Or a few. But damn, you were trying. 

At least you weren’t the only one being left out. 

It’d been weeks since you saw the new kid on the block—not like you thought about him much after you dismissed him. But slowly, as the sounds of Spring beckoned him outside, he reminded you that the new “rich” neighbors did indeed have a kid.

It started with the curtains in his living room window gently ruffling before he’d peek out, scanning the scene for signs of life. Then eventually upgraded to gracing the neighborhood with his presence to sit outside. For hours, he watched from his front porch as the neighborhood kids dashed past your houses to play in the cul-de-sac. 

It kind of made you jealous—the amount of space and freedom on their porch that his parents clearly weren’t taking advantage of. Only two plastic chairs and a small table occupied the space, and they weren’t nearly as lovely as the things you saw go into the home on move-in day. If it were up to you, you’d string up one of those hammocks big enough for two like you’d seen on TV and just float in the breeze under the overhang. It had been a frequent daydream of yours long before they moved in. 

Instead, a gawking boy with too much time on his hands made it his home. Watching. Fiddling with his fingers and leaning on the rail. Watching. Always seeming too afraid to approach.

He had what you thought was the best house in the neighborhood (and probably the most money), and still, he looked so lonely. 

With the background he seemed to come from, you thought he’d be more ballsy. 

One day, you were, and you walked right up there, took the hand of the wide-eyed kid, and led him to the rest of the kids down at the park. His dad watched the whole thing go down from the kitchen window as he did the dishes, silently laughing as the boy stumbled behind you without saying a word. 

This was your chance. You were so tired of the other kids being better than you. With him being the new kid, you thought he’d at least be somewhat on your level or maybe even a bit worse. Anything was better than being the odd one out. 

You and the boy just a few inches shorter than you crashed the party right before the next game started. You beamed at the group like you had caught a prized fish. 

“Guys, this is um…um…” Then you realize you hadn’t asked his name. And he was still holding your hand. 

You dropped it and nudged him. “Suguru,” he said softly, seeming to avoid eye contact.

Suguru hadn’t seen that many kids in a group like this outside of school. He didn’t mean to look so anxious, but he wasn’t used to being in a neighborhood full of kids his age. He instantly felt like an outsider seeing how comfortable everyone was with each other, apart from you by his side. While soft smiles offered him a glimmer of acceptance, the stares made him self-conscious. He wondered if he could ever fit in.

You repeated his name in case no one heard him. Suguru. It naturally rolled off your tongue. Soft and sweet. Like the boy. He fidgeted with his fingers, but hearing his name felt reassuring. You looked at him and grinned. It was time to see what he’s got.

Tee-ball was the game. One you hated the most. Running was not your sport, and you certainly didn’t have an arm, so it never hurt your feelings too much when you weren’t picked for teams. But you made sure Suguru was. You wanted to see him in action. 

Last summer, you guys found an old traffic cone to use as the tee and placed sticks around the field for bases. 

You didn’t expect much from Suguru when it was time to bat because…look at him. He was so small and timid. The bat borrowed from someone’s dad was almost the same size as him, and you swore you saw his feet lift a few times during his practice swings. Too much of that and he’d be airborne. You prepared to give him a “job well done” pat on the back once he hit the ball a few feet.

Suguru squared up at the tee—on his way to join you at the bottom of the barrel.

And wouldn’t you know it? 

He knocked the ball clear out of the park and didn’t even skim the cone. 

Your mouth fell open before you remembered you were the designated retriever since you weren’t playing the game. You grumbled the whole walk and search for it. 

And then he did it again. And again. And again. 

And surprise, surprise, he excelled at every game he played after. Everyone wanted Suguru on their team. 

You gaped at the feat—so much power, strength, and coordination in such an unassuming body.

And instantly hated him.

Not because he was the best or braggy about it. 

It was the complete opposite. 

He barely seemed to acknowledge it—not in an arrogant, dismissive way, but more like he was just happy to be involved and doing something. He was sheepish with compliments and even seemed nervous to receive them. He’d rub his head and give a little close-eyed smile before returning to the game.

And peer over to you on the sidelines for approval. 

Every swing, every hit, and every game after, his purple eyes would find yours whenever he thought he’d done something worthwhile.

You tried to hide the jealous scowl, returning his shy smile with a nod and told him to keep his head in the game. 

But he noticed.

He saw it. He knew you were unhappy, and he wanted nothing more than to help. 

So after that, you kind of mirrored each other. 

The kids always saw you as a try-hard—constantly on repeat, trying to make yourself valid and stand out. You’d grab failure by the throat and wring its neck, determined to make it forget your name. Not because you were attention-seeking; you only wanted to be counted in.

And so the student became the teacher. Suguru began to slip you little nods as if saying he saw you—just like you saw him all those times on his front porch. It’d annoy you at first, what you thought could’ve been pity, but it felt nice to finally be acknowledged by someone. 

And so gradually, you looked to him as a spectator, earning silent yeses and nos until you finally worked up the courage to do what you were afraid of most. Ask him to be a friend. 

To help you perfect your skills, of course. 

But the friendship blossomed like the Spring, and you and Suguru actually grew really close—instantly drawn to each other. Pop-ups to his house were the norm as you had the most advantage out of everyone in the neighborhood by living right across from him. And you both were always brought up by one another’s parents.

Turns out Suguru’s dad was a lot like yours and they got on really well. They’re both funny, kind. But your dad’s a little bit different. He’s got rebellion in his bones, as he often talked about when he told you stories about his youth and take-no-shit hippie days. 

“I’m serious, Bug. So, there we were, strapped to the tree. Shackled, really.” 

He mimicked the story with his arms in between laughs. 

“So, so we’re all chained up, right? And this bulldozer is coming right at our heads, ya? I look over to Stanley,” your even crazier God-father who showered you with gifts every time he visited, “I say, ‘Stanley, toughen up. You look like you’re about to piss yourself.’ And he goes, ‘I’m not scared. I forgot to go before we locked ourselves in.’” 

Your dad roared with laughter, wiping the tears from his eyes like he hadn’t told that story a million times. Like he was going around trying to collect little activists. But Suguru almost fell over, leaning into his every word. He was such a shy laugher, always creasing his eyes and dimpling his cheeks when he did. It made your dad feel like the funniest guy alive when Suguru entertained his jokes.

“You were so brave,” and Suguru called your dad by his nickname just like your dad told him to. “I want to be that brave when I’m older.”

Your dad winked at you—you stuck out your tongue. Suguru was a good kid, he thought and reminded him a bit of himself.

Those days, your dad was mostly the same. He didn’t need much and chose to live a quaint and peaceful life. He’d talk your ear off about activism, travel, and stories about your mom who passed when you were born. You never got to “meet” her, but you always felt like you knew exactly who she was. And she was totally different from Suguru’s mom, who you learned was a hard-working corporate baddie. Red bottom heels. Makes sense.

By the end of that first summer, your families were practically joined at the hip. You and Suguru even more so. Outside of house calls and playing games with the rest of the neighborhood, the two of you also made frequent trips to the makeshift pier. Almost everything in your neighborhood and the surrounding area was walkable, including a small, wobbly, probably dangerous dock that sat over the small lake in town. You’d play a little alphabet game you made up on the walk down and constantly challenge him. Only for him to literally beat you at your own game nine times out of ten. 

“Angels shop at—” You skipped down the dirt path.

“Blessed boutiques,” Suguru finished, “Beautiful coats—”

“Can clothe their wings. Dashing dolls—”

“Eat every sweet. Forks will find—”

“Giant…giant,” you thought and thought and thought, “Giant—”

“Geese!”’ Suguru tagged you and ran down the dock, deeming you the loser of that round. You strolled down to meet him near the water reflecting the sunset. A pout took up your face. He patted the deck, motioning for you to sit. “You’re gonna miss the fireflies.”

Watching them pop up one by one and glow on the water as the sun went down became a ritual. And one of your favorite memories of summer.

The following school year, you were even more inseparable. And when the end of fifth grade rolled around the year after, you knew it was fate when you found out you’d be attending the same middle school. 

You were overjoyed. So was Suguru, but for different reasons. To you, now it was on. 

Academics was an area where you had a fair shot at flourishing. You were studious, attentive, and almost the perfect student. And while you didn’t have bad grades, you always felt like you could be better. And you know why. Because everything came naturally to Suguru, of course. 

Thank goodness for extracurriculars, though. The two of you didn’t need to do everything together, and you both benefited from the time and separation to do your own thing and discover your own interests. The Newspaper club caught your eye and was more interesting than you thought it would be—the first hobby to make you fall in love with words. 

Suguru took an interest in robotics and, surprisingly, Yearbook. He was pretty crafty with a camera and made sure to snap the best photos of you during your events. 

But the two of you rarely spoke of school or after-school activities. You never wanted him to know if you were struggling or needed help with anything and tried not to rely on him so much those days, so everything with you was always good.

It had to be.

He was still the competition, after all.

And you had to appear just as flawless. 

Instead, you enjoyed late-night phone calls that went way past both of your bedtimes as you grew into middle schoolers. Pretending to be asleep and slipping the phone under your pillow without moving a muscle when your parents checked in was a sport, but it couldn’t be helped. The books you were reading, shows you were watching, and thoughts on what high school would be like were too good not to talk about into the late-night hours—even when your eyelids got too tired to stay open. Falling asleep with your cellphones in hand or occupying a space on your pillows was the norm. 

“What’d ya think about the movie?” 

“I mean, the book is always better, right? But like,” you sighed happily into the phone, “they made their lives look so…amazing.”

The two of you watched The Great Gatsby 1979 version on DVD at Suguru’s house right after school that day before you had to scurry off to help your dad in the garden. Suguru finished the book a few days ago, and after catching him with it during lunch and poking him enough to get him to spill some of the details, you were sold.

A glamorous romance about a life of luxury and passion?

Say less.

And because you couldn’t resist, you told him you’d finish it in less time than he did.

Suguru thought the movie was pretty true to the book, but man, what a sad story. You, however, were in love with the lifestyle.

“What about Daisy?” he asked.

You pondered Daisy’s decision for half a second before deciding she was a one-off. All her life she had been spoiled, something you were a total stranger to but didn’t make a point to say—only dismissed her frivolous ways and called her a coward. “Just the money and parties would be enough for me,” you said in a daydream. “It’d be too happy to be that shallow.” 

Suguru laughed and said that wasn’t the point of the book. “Money can't always buy happiness. She could’ve had love. It was right there.” He sounded so sophisticated when he said it, much too wise and sappy for a 13-year-old. 

You sucked your teeth. “That’s easy for you to say.” And you reminded him that he has a nicer house, clothes, car. “And when are y’all getting the Benz back?”

Lately, you and Suguru had been getting picked up by his dad in a major downgrade of a car. It’d been at least two months, and you were missing the feel of luxury against your skin.

The phone went quiet for a second, and Suguru scratched his head. “Uh, we actually don’t have it anymore.”

Your eyes widened as if he'd just told you someone died. Borderline devastation set in like it was your family losing one of its greatest displays of wealth. But Suguru didn’t sound the least bit sad when he told you that his dad referred to the “new car” as a “cash car” because they needed something quick.

And then it clicked, and you realized why you’d been noticing that furniture and things had also been disappearing in his house when you came over. And why he had to switch to the free lunch program you were also on at school. And why his dad mentioned looking for a second job the other day.

Suguru’s family had been hit by the recession.

And that’s how he became your neighbor.

Most of everything Suguru grew up with in his previous family home was placed in storage when they first moved into your neighborhood. His mom thought their stay would be temporary; she had been demoted at work but didn’t think it was a big deal, and things would quickly be back to normal—maybe even come with a promotion if she worked hard enough.

But it wasn’t her skills that was the problem. The economy was in shambles, and her company was running out of money. After two years of hoping for a miracle, she and over 40% of her company were laid off.

They kept all of this from Suguru until only a few weeks ago. He was much too young to understand what it all meant when it first happened—he was just a kid. But now, he was older, smarter, way less naïve. They couldn’t keep lying to him about why the car was away at the shop or why the family heirloom dining table went missing, among other things. 

When they told him that he’d have to slow down on his growing book collection and only get one gift for his birthday that year, that’s when he started asking questions—not that either of those things meant much to him. He was more than happy to frequent the school library, and you noticed that he’d been spending a lot more time there than usual during breaks.

What bothered Suguru the most was the looks his parents gave him when they told him everything. Like they were delivering the worst news in the world. Like they were so worried that they’d be disappointing him. Like they should be ashamed. 

It hurt him more to know that they felt like they had failed him. 

“My dad just looks so tired all of the time now.”

Mr. Geto, who had been a stay-at-home work-from-home employee since before Suguru was born, had to get a part-time job working overnight to help bridge the widening gap between their old and new lifestyle.

Now, Suguru doesn’t get to see him as much except to make breakfast and kiss Suguru goodbye with a sluggish smile on his face before school.

He really missed his dad. And it made you feel like shit for momentarily being a Daisy.

For the rest of the night, you just listened to Suguru tell stories about back home—what his parents were like, the things they used to do, the trips they would take, and the time they spent together. Little memories from a place you’ve never been but could clearly see as he talked through the night.

Never once did Suguru mention missing the things he used to have or wanted now. The people in his life were what he cared about most. 

“My dad got a new antenna for the TV to surprise my mom with so she can still watch her favorite channels from back home,” he laughed. “It’s so big. I hadn’t seen one before, so it was kinda funny to look at, but I’m glad it’ll make her happy.”

You solemnly smiled and propped up on your arm. “Do you ever miss home? Like being back there?”

He mentioned that he thought about it sometimes: the plush green grass in his front and backyard that he’d lay in for hours, the much sunnier skies compared to the frequently gray and cloudy ones, and humid air here in your rainy city, the few friends and family members he had to leave behind.

But he liked it here better and surprised the hell out of you by saying so. 

Anywhere was better than being here. 

Even though his family was going through a hard time, they still managed to get the nicest house in the neighborhood. You could only imagine what his childhood home looked like compared to the one bedroom and living room your dad made into his own space.

You asked why. What could possibly make this place any better than where he came from?

You could hear him shrug through the phone as he lay on his back and stared at the ceiling decorated with glow-in-the-dark stars.

“I don’t know,” he said. “It’s just something about this place.”

You still think about that conversation sometimes.

The end of middle school came in a blaze, and so did puberty. 

Suddenly, you became aware that it was time to start caring about what you looked like.

Some nights, you would call it early with Suguru in favor of spending hours on YouTube watching videos and learning how to wear makeup. You put more thought into how you dressed and tried your best to style the little clothes you had into mostly decent outfits.

Every morning, you’d beam when you entered the kitchen to grab breakfast and say goodbye to your dad. He’d try his best not to cry, watching his little Bug grow up before his eyes. 

Suguru did some growing, too.

The summer of 7th grade, he got a little taller, and when your final year started, you guys were finally neck and neck. He was beginning to be able to see the top of your head when he lifted his chin, and he would make little jokes about it in his prepubescent boy voice that was starting to crack. You’d push the too-big glasses that he got at the start of middle school up the bridge of his nose and tell him not to get too cocky. This was the tallest he would get, you’d tease. He may have been good at everything, but he’d always be a pip-squeak. 

When you weren’t going back and forth with Suguru, you were hanging out with the new gal pals you made at school. Your little trio started spending more time together, window shopping at the mall, attending football games after school, and talking each other’s ears off about anything in between throughout your last year. You couldn’t tell Suguru everything, of course—there are some things that guys will simply never be able to relate to or understand. 

And one day, while the three of you sat at lunch together while Suguru was off with his robotics team, one of your gals leaned over the cafeteria table to poke you with a devious smile and ask the age-old question: who do you like in school?

Your brain had the audacity to picture Suguru first. 

Your friends squealed watching your face blush beet red, but you turned away and never answered the question—only said that you were more focused on school and extracurriculars to help you in college more than anything else. 

But where the hell did that come from? 

Suguru was, debatably, your best friend, but that was it.

Not that you needed to convince anyone else of that. Just…yourself?

Before that day, you never really thought of Suguru in that light. He was this quiet, nerdy, prodigy of a boy who was great at everything and gave you another reason to want to be just as good. You secretly looked up to him, if you wanted to call it that, but you certainly didn’t like him. 

He was just the boy next door. 

The boy next door who was challenging you once again: to push the little hints of affection that had been blossoming aside and dismiss them.

Bury them down, keep your eyes on the prize, and finally be rewarded for your efforts.

To keep up with him, not fall in love with him. 

On a rare sunny Saturday, a month and a half before school let out for the summer, the two of you sat on his beloved front porch with the future on your minds.  

Suguru picked at the grass growing between the wooden boards. “Thinking about trying something new next year?”

You popped another sugary blackberry from your backyard into your mouth while stretched out on Suguru’s favorite quilt. He couldn’t help but notice how relaxed you looked, drinking up the warm sunbeams on your skin.

“I don’t know,” your arms folded behind your head as you stared at the ceiling, “I love Newspaper, but…I don’t know. I think I wanna branch out.”

You just weren’t sure how yet. You had done some research on the high school you’d both be attending next year and ran down the list looking for something to jump out at you. Something you could really put yourself into. You still loved writing and expressing yourself, but there was nothing else besides repeating Newspaper or trying Yearbook (Sugu’s territory). The rest of your options weren’t ideal, but beggars couldn’t be choosers. 

“How about volleyball?”

“Nah.”

“Art club?”

“Mmm-mm.”

He leaned against the wooden railing. “Hmmm, choir?”

You laughed and didn’t even bother to respond to what was clearly a joke. 

He sighed and pensively licked the sugar from his fingers before asking if maybe you’d want to do something together. 

You looked at him and squinted. “What?” he shrugged.

“You know what.” And he shook his head all innocent-like.

Always innocent that Suguru. Effortlessly wrapping everyone around his finger. Your dad, his teachers. Even your trio mentioned him from time to time about how helpful he was. With all the times he went out of his way to make sure you were okay, even you were starting to let your guard down. Watching him now as his ponytail blew softly in the wind, looking so naïve as to what you meant but still wanting to understand, made you blush sick.

Not having much of a reason to actually be so guarded, you made one up. “You tryna go toe to toe with me, Geto?.”

Your brow cocked, and you used his last name because you knew it’d get to him. He was fully aware that you only say it when you’re serious, and it’s mostly blurted when you guys go at it on Mario Kart. 

“Just because I said we should do something together?” 

“Yeah, so you can one-up me.”

If there was a hobby or favorite pastime that you really enjoyed and might actually be better than good at, you knew it was best to keep it out of Suguru’s reach. Academic and recreational competitions needed to remain separate if you wanted to keep your sanity.

Suguru took a breath. If there was one thing he didn’t bother competing with you at, it was arguing. He knew you wouldn't back down if he just sat here and tried to convince you; you’d poke a hole in every counter until he simply gave up.

So, instead, he pandered to your inflated ego, chewing his lip before telling the truth. “C’mon, Twin. I promise I won’t. Do it for me.”

His soft purple gaze landed on you, and you got a funny feeling in your stomach that you hadn’t felt before. 

He was serious. 

He really wanted to be at your side trying something new—exploring together—helping each other find yourselves.

The shy teen who was as quiet as a mouse and yet a beast of a kid wanted to be right there with you. And he wasn’t afraid to say it.

You cleared your throat and averted his gaze. “Fine,” you agreed, but on one condition, “It stays a hobby, no competing.” And it sounded like you were talking to yourself more than him. “But valedictorian? That’s mine.” And you tossed another blackberry into the air and caught it perfectly in your mouth, making Suguru raise his eyebrows.

“That’s a bet,” he said, reaching over to wipe a bit of sugar from the corner of your lips. You swat away his hand and punch his shoulder, but damn him if the gesture didn’t make you feel all weird inside. He faked an “Ow” and rubbed his arm before joining you on the quilt to soak in the sun. You closed your eyes and pretended to float in the breeze whistling through the railing. Even without the hammock, it kind of felt like you were. 

“Sooo, what do you wanna do this summer?” And the possibilities felt endless.

Who knew this core memory of each other’s youth, the moment you finally let his fingers inch across the blanket and softly brush yours without pulling back, would be one of your last? 

Two weeks before break started, after all of your plans for the summer and the following school year had been planned out, it happened. 

To this day, you question the timing of your worst nightmare—just when you thought you were living the dream—coming true.

The Geto’s were moving on up. 

For years, Suguru watched his mom grind in corporate America. It wasn’t new to him; she had one of the hardest work ethics he’d ever seen, but it was on a different level after his family moved to your city.

Something in her had changed—the thought of instability.

She knew Suguru was used to not seeing her due to long hours at work, but when it started to affect her husband, when it began to shift the family’s dynamic, she knew she had to figure something out, and fast.

She could sacrifice her time for the family. She couldn’t sacrifice Suguru’s time with his dad. 

All these years, Suguru’s family pulled themselves up by their bootstraps while Suguru was lost in the bliss of friendship. Mrs. Geto’s hard work paid off, and she got a promotion—on the opposite end of the country. 

The day was bright and sunny when he left, the exact opposite of how you felt watching the beat-up car that had grown on you drive out of the neighborhood.

You looked on from your window because you didn’t want him to see you crying, watching, or caring. 

You had been right from the first time you saw him. 

And were back to square one.

Alone.

You guys tried to stay in touch, you really did, but being in totally different time zones made keeping up with each other a little harder. New apps for your phones, like Snapchat and Instagram, helped a little, but they didn't compare to the late-night phone calls you missed so much. 

At first, Suguru would Snap you about how he was getting on in his new city, neighborhood, and places his family would explore over the summer.

The thought of him being someone’s new boy-next-door made your stomach twist.

When school rolled around, he’d send Snaps and joke about his preppy new uniform that came with a vibrant red tie and over-starched navy pants. His mom got him into a fancy private school because, of course she would, but they were really strict with phones, so you weren't able to talk to him until he got home. By the time he did, the sun had already gone down for you, and you’d be too tired from your own after-school activities to keep your eyes open.

You missed Suguru—even your dad missed him and his family terribly. 

You missed him so much that you began to resent him—his new life, fancy school, and new “friends”. Jealousy reared its ugly head, forcing you to put your walls up again. 

Another friend, gone, moved on to bigger and better things. Leaving you behind once again.

You had finally found a friend, a real friend, who never made you feel bad—someone you could tell almost all of your secrets to.

Who got whisked away.

Who you’d give anything to see again and go back to the way things were. 

Though it’d only been five years, you felt like you’d known him your entire life.

But what you thought was fate, turned out to be folly.

It wasn’t fair.

Sometimes I fall But still, I rise To the skies high above  In the clouds my ego Will go where no one knows

Why I am here

And why I try

To defy what I believe What it means to succeed To be won

To be one

To be “the one”

A smoking gun.

“Thank you.”

The cafe filled with snapping fingers as you walked off the stage, heart pounding and a smile plastered on your ducking head. 

Look at you now. Performing in cafes, libraries, open-mics, wherever you could be that called for an audience. Still a little shy, but letting it motivate you and pour out on the floor to be soaked up by the listeners. It was an adrenaline rush, finally finding something you knew belonged to you and being damned good at it. 

No one was better than you at telling the world how you felt while simultaneously mesmerizing an audience with your soliloquy and speech. Words still had a hold on you; you just figured it was better to say them out loud than keep them written down.

“Good job, Bug.” Your dad handed you a hot cup of tea fresh from the counter with your nickname scribbled in big cursive letters across the cup. 

“Dad, please stop calling me that.”

He frowned. “But you’re my little bug.” He threw an arm around you, almost making you spill the hot liquid. 

You groaned and protested. “I’m not a kid anymore.” And took a sip too soon, burning the tip of your tongue. You held it in and swallowed, looking around to see if anyone else saw the scorned look on your face. 

You thought of 15 as one of your prime years and kept yourself busy to prove it. Just a sophomore in high school, Baby had a new hobby: dominating slam poetry. You had taken over the scene in your city with expansion heavy on your mind.

Though it was hard for your dad to hear, you were right; you weren’t a kid anymore. But you knew he was just proud of you. More than you could ever know. It made him happy to see you had something no one could take from you. 

With a tsk, you leaned into his hug. You should be thanking him more. When the idea of doing slam poetry first crossed your mind, you were a hot mess (surprise, surprise) at being confident (BIG surprise)—your stage presence was lacking, to be specific. 

On the page, your poems were like water in a desert, but opening your mouth and performing it with your whole chest was…different. 

Fixating on your lines and rhythm made you want to pull your hair out. It was hard making sure your words sounded like you and would be understood. You needed to be understood. 

You’d practice your performances in front of your dad until you were blue in the face. A show was put on for anyone who would listen. And secretly, you missed Suguru’s presence because he’d be perfect for it.

But you didn’t need him. You were on your way to competing in your first official local competition. All your practice around the city and long hours at home agonizing over your talent for slam poetry built up to that moment—the time to show the world what you had to offer. 

Nothing felt better than holding the gold 1st place medallion between your fingers afterward. Regionals came next, and nothing could have validated your talent more than the medals you took home on top of the prize money your dad stashed away for college. 

It was time to travel, and Nationals was your next target.

You couldn’t describe the feeling of finally being outside your city. The thought of being beyond the walls of home once felt like a hopeless dream. New cities, new friends, new organizations, and new styles of poetry were within your reach. The exhilarating travel that worried your dad put a thrill in your heart. You wanted to see everything—be heard everywhere. Life was full of opportunity and everything it had to offer. 

“So you’re gonna do the group piece and then an individual one, maybe?” 

You leaned against the cool bus window as you and your teammates winded down the road to your next hotel. Over the summer, you traveled with your state’s top slam poetry organization to compete in regional cities around the coast. All of this was practice for the Nationals coming up that August before school started. The day was coming faster than you could imagine. 

“I don’t know about a solo,” you wondered.

You looked out the window and chewed your bottom lip. Your team lead had been pushing you to do a stand-alone piece for the Nationals for weeks, but you felt far from ready. You were strong in a group, but on your own, looking out into a crowd of people while demanding their attention on an empty stage, the thought made you queasy.

This wasn’t your local library or a small regional contest. Nationals is where you tell the country who you are and why you matter. 

“Hey,” a hand rested on your shoulder, calling you back. “You’ve got this. You deserve this.” 

And you did deserve it. You’d worked too hard and advanced so far in such a short amount of time. You didn’t think you’d get here so fast, but here you were, on a double-decker bus full of others who were just as talented as you, in a place where you belonged. In a place where you didn’t have to try so hard or look for that slight nod of approval to let you know you were seen. 

August was in a hurry to put you on the stage because, before you knew it, it was time to head to California for the Nationals. What better place to begin to live your dreams than in the place where they all come true? Sunny skies, sandy beaches, and the aura of art and performance lingered in the air. It was the complete opposite of where you came from. It felt like home. You could see how Suguru could get easily lost in all. 

You always wanted to visit the West Coast and see how he was living.

It’d be so funny to randomly Snap him after all this time and tell him you were so close, but you decided against it.

Cali was HUGE; there’s no way the competition would just happen to be in his city for you to casually bump into him.

Plus, imagine that awkward reunion after a few years of radio silence.

You two could be completely different people now.

He probably wouldn’t even want to see you.

Maybe you didn’t want to see him.

So many great things happened since his family packed up and left. In fact, without Suguru around, you found yourself excelling more naturally at anything and everything than ever before. Comparisons were a thing of the past, and you knew you had something no one else could take away from you.

Except maybe the competitor going on before you at the Nationals. 

The audience was loud and clearly approving of his killer performance as they ate him up with whistles and snapping fingers.

Who needed a mic when you had a voice like that?

Easily projecting across the entire venue with every rhythmic pop, beat, and enunciation of his words.

You might have met your match or worse.

For the first time in your poetic career, you thought you just might lose your winning streak. 

Anxiety convinced you to head back to the holding area. You just needed to run through the lines of your solo only a few more times.

You’ve got this.

He was nothing.

This was nothing.

You were taking home first place—absolutely positive that success was literally on the tip of your tongue. Until you saw him. 

The boy with the raven hair. 

Unmistakable and stopping you dead in your tracks as you saw him in the flesh for the first time in 2 years, standing long and tall in the venue.

Not in the audience.

Not as a stagehand.

But in another team’s holding room.

As a competitor. 

Your heart plummeted into your ass.

What in the fuck was he doing here???

You swiftly ducked behind the wall leading to your team’s holding area, hand flying to your chest to still the thunderous beating. 

Deep breaths, deep breaths. DEEP B R E A T H S. 

Suddenly, your mouth was desert dry.

The entire summer, you prepared yourself to keep from slipping up—how you would suppress the urge to call him, think about him, or wonder where he would be when you were here.

You covered all of the bases.

But here he was in a place you least expected.

In a place you now knew you’d dread seeing him the most.

The boy you had become a ghost to was haunting you, but somehow, you knew this would happen.

You only got a quick glance at him before you vanished, but it was enough of a glimpse to notice the chances.

And God, were there changes.

As teenagers do, you both had grown out of your prepubescent bodies and into your young adult ones. And while you thought you looked relatively the same with a few upgrades here and there, Suguru had gone through a full-blown glow-up that set yours on fire. 

“Almost ready?” 

You nearly jumped out of your skin. Your teammate followed your line of sight and smirked. “Know him?”

You shrugged a bit too nonchalantly and said you thought he looked familiar but didn’t. “Shame,” she rested her shoulder on the wall with a dreamy gaze. “He looks like a dream.” 

You turned away before you threw up and realized that you were about to be called up next. The frazzled look on your team lead’s face let you know she’d been looking for you, and you took a synced deep breath when she spotted you. Her hands fell on your shoulders before you went up the stairs to the stage. “You’ve got this.”

I’ve got this. . . . You don’t got this. 

Your legs felt like Jell-O walking up the short set of stairs to the black platform in the middle of the stage. You hadn’t been on one this big, in a venue so large, with an audience so vast and eyes in the hundreds. The row of judges sat below you, yet looked so intimidating. Heat engulfed you from the lights above—a literal deer playing the lion in the headlights.

Sight zeroed in on the judges, you avoided the audience. Hoping that he wasn't still there because you knew seeing him WOULD freak you out. 

In the silence Between the shattered and oppressed dreams I found, I tore The roar Of my own voice Reclaiming the night

Your lines flowed out of you more naturally than water, eyes closed, unfocused, or hazy as you transformed your surroundings into the scene of your story—the journey from struggle to empowerment—the story of why you deserved to be here. In that moment, there was no one else—not even the judges—just you, the stage, and the song that belonged to you, even if it mattered to no one else.

But it mattered to him.

And you didn’t see him until near the end of your set.

The familiarity of your voice called him to confirm it for himself. To make sure it was you. He couldn’t believe it. You looked so…powerful. Fully fledged in your adulthood, kicking ass and taking names. Fierce and poetic. The same attitude as the girl he grew up with but in its full realization. 

Your voice cracked a little when you spotted him, completely awe-struck by you, but you played it off like it was part of your set. Damn the boy who had the same gawking eyes that used to watch the neighborhood kids—quiet and longing. You hoped it wasn’t obvious, but Suguru noticed. He knew. He still had some kind of effect on you. He could tell by how quickly you looked away. You still felt a way about him. He wasn’t just a nobody to you. But given the circumstances, he didn’t know whether to love or hate it by the time he took the stage. 

The mic fit snuggly between his fingers. It was rare that someone fully approached it without starting their piece first. You wondered where he was going with this, why he looked a bit tense, why he kept his gaze low—if it could be because of you.

You held your breath and crossed your fingers. Once again, it was time to see him in action under the sweltering stage lights. And in seconds, you saw your gold medal fleeting.

You expected nothing less. 

His voice was lined with melody—a sweet, ethereal flow and a melodious string of vocabulary that wrapped you in an envelope and swaddled you like a baby. He sounded so mature. He sounded so much better…than you. 

The nerdy boy with too-big glasses and cracking voice had been replaced by a young man who towarded over the audience with a long side-bang and gauges in his ears. The red tie around his neck did look absolutely ridiculous like he said, but the rest of his navy blue uniform was tailored to perfection and fit like a glove.

He looked and sounded like where he came from. Money. But he was more than that. You found yourself hanging onto his every word as you watched from out of sight. He couldn’t see that he made your heart thump, but it was begging to fall out of your chest by the second.

This wasn’t about slam poetry anymore.

Suguru had entered your arena.

Shy, reserved, and knocking the ball out of the park. 

Out of over 200 solo acts, you came in 6th. Suguru came in 5th. 

And you couldn’t even feel good about it. Because you knew what this meant.

Regionals took over the remainder of your sophomore academic year, but when summer rolled back around, it was time to look Suguru in the face again at almost every out-of-state competition. The West Coast was once a dream—now you dreaded touring the area because you knew he would be there.

Performing.

Waiting to chew you up and spit you out. 

Over the final two years of high school, you both spent most of your free time hopping around the nation and directly squaring off with each other.

Growing more apart as you did.

Silent hatred brewed and led the way every time you saw him—unmistakably written on your face. 

He chalked it up to the fact that the two of you had changed over the years, and maybe you’d simply outgrown him. But he never thought someone he used to call his best friend could give him a look so cold. With no other choice but to follow your lead, he kept his distance and pretended you weren’t there.

But the way he racked up medal after medal, winning over judges and audiences alike, was loud and clear.

With him, you could only hope for second best. Though out-of-state competitions were just practice, losing to him in any capacity was a constant reminder that what was yours, wasn’t anymore.

If it ever was.

This time, anxiety burned through you instead of helping you. 

During junior year, one of the most pivotal moments of your poetic careers, you met face-to-face again at the Nationals. Both of your organizations fought their way to the semifinals, but as you held your breath waiting for the judges to call his team’s name, silence swept both of you when you realized that neither of you made it to the finals.

Again.

By that summer, you were tired, good and tired of inching closer and closer to third place, then second, but never first in out-of-state competitions where Suguru was in the mix.

He was sucking the life out of you, but you couldn’t show it, especially when on stage where you knew he’d have his eyes glued to you.

Then, in August of your senior year, it finally happened; you returned to the Nationals, your final opportunity to win and go international. This time, it was close to your territory, in Georgia.

All bets were off.

The winner was a toss-up.

And what a slap in the face to finally win….and tie with Suguru. 

You sulked on the inside the whole ride home while your teammates cheered and celebrated around you. To them, you’d just made history with your organization being the first in your state to go to the continental competition and have a shot at the World Poetry Slam Championship. 

To you, your freedom of expression kept escaping you.

You felt yourself starting to mold into something outside of yourself.

Some nights, you lied in bed, unable to sleep hearing Suguru’s rhythmic beats rack through your brain.

Analyzing them.

Judging them.

Mimicking them.

Wanting to be like the best.

Your foundation was shaking.

At least you didn’t have to worry about the continental competition. Winning wasn’t the point; only earning one of the top 10 high scores to be automatically qualified for the WPSC. 

It was a dream come true.

But how come it tasted so sour when you stood on that stage, your teammates going absolutely insane in the crowd at the news of you advancing to the international championship, but once again with a score just shy of Suguru’s? 

The two of you were declared the best in your country…and you were sulking. 

It shouldn’t matter!

You're one of the top 40 poets in the WORLD, babe!

And, for Godsake, a free plane ticket and trip to leave the country was waiting for you with your name on it! Belgian waffles and fountains of chocolate are more than enough reasons to get over yourself and this one-sided beef. 

But your dad still got an earful about it.

Weekly chats with him almost always centered around poetry and Suguru ever since you first saw him sophomore year.

The closer the world championship came, the sadder you sounded.

“What if I-”

Your dad stopped you. “Don’t even finish that sentence. What have I always said?”

You hugged the phone to your ear, rolling your suitcase back and forth between your legs in the airport terminal. “Bug,” your dad said after a moment’s silence.

You groaned. “We don’t say ‘what-ifs’. We say ‘what is’.”

“And what’s going to happen.”

You looked over to your team lead, soundly napping in the corner. It was the butt crack of dawn, and both of you had gotten to the airport way too early for your liking to make sure you didn’t miss your flight. Your first international flight. You actually had a passport, like??? 

So much had gone into getting you here.

Energy. Time. Effort. Trust. Encouragement.

People were rooting for you. They wanted to see you win. You wanted to see you win. 

“I’m gonna do my best.”

“Then you’re already a winner, Bug.”

God, your dad was gushy. And God, you loved him for it.

You didn’t feel so bad by the time you watched the sunrise in full bloom through your airplane window.

Pink, orange, and yellow washed over your face, making you feel so small. It wasn’t your first time in the sky, but definitely the most nervous you’d been.

Local papers, blogs, and newsletters featured your name—people knew you now; they had expectations.

A reputation had been made, and now you were in the fight of your life to keep it.

You sighed into your palm with your dad’s words in mind.

David was determined to take Goliath down.

Belgium.was.cold.

Like you hadn’t packed nearly thick enough coats type of cold.

You felt like an idiot. 

You were a lyrical genius but couldn’t even put ‘Belgium in December’ and ‘it might be freezing’ together. But the lobby of your quaint little hotel with hot chocolate on tap was warm and inviting.

Your team lead handed you a cup, and you found yourself missing your teammates. They would have loved this and cheering you on at the top of their lungs.

The feeling was lonely—nerve-wracking.

You were in the beautiful country of Germany for a competition, not leisure, so you couldn’t even relish in the fact that you were overseas.

At least the food was good. Nervous eating made you binge until you felt sick the night before the competition, but a quick stroll in the brisk morning air made you feel better.

The bus ride to the venue felt like you were about to hop into a boxing ring. And the gloves were off.

Crossing the threshold into a space full of chosen people was like marveling at the diamonds of top-society. And you were one of them. Your team lead walked by and closed your gaping mouth with a smile. “Chin up, dear.” And disappeared into the crowd.

You'd never met a foreigner before and were thrust into a venue full of different skin tones, accents, languages, and ages. It would’ve been even more overwhelming had it not been for the smell of coffee wafting through the air, reminding you of your last safe space for poetry before you went pro. With half an hour left until the competition, you thought exploring a little wouldn’t be a bad idea.  

The venue was dark and moody, perfect for setting the atmosphere and circulating the rising tension in your body. The main stage basked against the background of darkness under a single warm light that cast a circular glow.

Your final destination.

His burial sight. 

Suguru was nowhere to be found, but by the looks of the thick crowd shuffling in to fill their seats, it was easy to get lost. You met back with your team lead to run your rhythms a few more times. 

“Please don’t say it.” And she laughs, giving you a small nod and shoulder squeeze.

You still hear it in your head. You’ve got this.

But man, were these poets giving you a run for your money.

It was exhilarating and terrifying—a glaring reminder of why you were here among the best.

Translations were available on the screens behind the performers as you ping-ponged between their words and their expressions. Both demanded your attention and the crowd’s.

But so did you and Suguru when you both breezed through the semifinals.

For a second, you thought he hadn’t made it to the venue at all when you looked for him during your performance. But he let you and everyone else know he was in the building when he graced that stage. A hush fell over the space, and even you felt your face go soft while watching him.

He more than deserved that advance, but you weren’t done just yet.

After a brief intermission—the DJ wasn’t playing any games—you turned the corner to line up for the final round when you collided at 100mph with Suguru. 

“Fu— oh.” You held your arm as you looked at him—really taking him in.

When he was on stage, you noticed he wasn’t in his usual uniform, but up close, the alternative was definitely a choice. The loose black tee ruffled as he smoothed his bang. 

“Sorry.” 

He rubbed his shoulder and kept his eyes low. His hands stuffed into his black cargos as he looked away, not wanting to upset you. Or see the look of resentment on your face.

You could tell he knew he made you uncomfortable, but you didn’t know how different he wished things could have been.

Hurt was written all over the face of your childhood best friend, and you never knew Suguru to be upset about anything. 

You cleared your throat. “Good luck.”

His head drew back like he’d seen a ghost.

His lips parted.

Then he kind of smiled, leaning against the wall—looking at you for a moment.

You were so grown up and had accomplished so much.

Suguru was fully aware that you hated his guts and was so proud of you—even if you didn’t need him anymore. 

He reached out to shake your hand. “Good luck, Twin.” 

Your heart thumped—no one had called you that in 4 years—sweet and low from honeyed lips.

Suguru’s hand lingered in your air for a second before you gingerly took it.

Soft and warm.

Just like you remembered but stronger—firmer.

The gloves were off for him, too.

Things were done a bit differently for the final rounds. Instead of holding deliberations for the end of the rounds after everyone had gone, everyone got their votes front and center from five random audience members.

Paddles would fly in the air, displaying the scores to be tallied up and held until the end.

Thank God you could do quick math. Numbers were racking up—bone-chilling talent was on full display.

You were amazed, laughing, shocked. Every set was different from the last.

The crowd fell into a hush when one guy came on stage and laid straight down. Bareback to ground. Then fired off rhythmic jokes that made you laugh at some and ponder the seriousness of others.

Dark humor often has truth in it. 

Most sets were in a completely different language yet spoken so beautifully that you dug your nails into your palms to keep from crying. Emotion was universal. And you were feeling a lot of them.

Suguru walking onto the stage snapped you out of it as you watched from the other side of it. 

Though you’d just seen him a few minutes ago, this was a completely different light. Something had shifted.

Nice to meet you My name is Suguru Oh really? So is mine! It’s nice to meet you too.

Tell me what you’re like, what do you like to do? Lately, I’m not sure Was hoping for a breakthrough

In a world where masks are sticky and glue I’m lost in a maze with no clear view Doubt will cling like morning dew Caught in the storm of shifting hues

If you didn’t know better, you would’ve thought Suguru was having a mental breakdown.

Your jaw tightened, clothes fidgeting between your fingers.

It was the most unexpected thing you could’ve imagined. And this was just the beginning of the journey through his paradoxical mind.

His ship was sinking. And he was taking you all down with him.

…I wear many faces each one feels new, But none will fit like I want it to Left with a voice that's small and untrue Burying deep I don't know what to do

In this mirror, I’m searching for clues, But this reflection is oddly askew. You scream through the glass, “Stay real and stay true!” But if you’re me, then…who are you?

You could hear a pin drop.

Suguru stopped breathing.

He couldn’t believe that he actually did it. He had never been so vulnerable.

If you thought you knew him and what he was going through before, you were left stunned and corrected.

A few of his scores floated into the air, and though you couldn’t see them all, the few you did were perfect 10s.

It would’ve been hell to go directly after that—thankfully, you had a few more people before you. 

Time crept closer and closer to your set—nervous sweats and fidgeting fingers kept you company.

So much for keeping a hobby a hobby, you thought, pacing backstage.

This wasn’t fun for you anymore; it was always supposed to be fun, easy, natural.

But this was no longer just about you.

It never was.

It was about proving anyone who ever doubted wrong.  

When the host called your name, you made those 3 minutes on stage feel like your last.

Rain, rain don’t go away, You’re the only one who stays, Cross my heart and hope to die I promise that I will not cry

Build and build and There it goes! All for naught and just for show Hypnotize your guards to grave Leave the trust to fade away

This was your final plea to be heard by the world if you had ever made one.

A letter to those who ever dismissed, ignored, or left you.

Fire and brimstone poured from the pit of your soul—served up on a plate with the audience in mind but Suguru as the guest of honor. 

You thought he’d be away in the dressing room or at least within earshot, but no. He stood tall and bright, leaning against the door frame that led out to the hall, backlit by the warm lights that framed his figure, watching.

Listening.

Knowing the poem was partially about him.

You hoped it hurt him as much to hear it as it did for you to write it.

Deep breaths kept your voice steady—he wouldn’t hear it crack this time as you powered through your trembles. Bold and brash. Unleashing your truth.

He saw it in your eyes and unconsciously did the only thing he knew to support you, the beginning of your connection—trust that blossomed into turmoil. The small nod of approval. 

Years had passed.

Envy had pushed you to avoid him.

He accepted that you no longer saw him as a friend.

Yet he still wanted to show his support. 

And it pissed you off.

…Lo and behold the savior's light Here to take another flight Take me by my desperate hand Lead me how you only can Fragile like a gentle rose I will follow where you go.

Shadows whisper of the known What I am. I am alone...

You walked off stage before you could see your final scores.

Whatever would be was now out of your hands—the relief felt agonizingly sweet.

Your team lead wrapped you in her arms as you silently cried. You didn’t know how long the tears had been building up, but the release was like a dam burst.

Crying on your first international trip to Belgium.

Nice. 

A final intermission was left, and the scores were tallied. You guzzled down some water and took a few breaths before meeting the rest of the contestants. Finally, finally, you and Suguru stood side by side again on stage. Your entire history had built up to this moment—ready to declare a winner. Ready to determine whether you finally caught up.

His pinky brushed yours, sending sparks to your belly like that day on his porch.

Head down, you waited for a name to be called.

Any name, every name, would be better than—

“Suguru Geto.”

Naturally rolling off their tongue.

Suguru stiffened beside you like he couldn’t believe it himself as they motioned for him to come forward. In your mind, everything went quiet. You couldn’t feel anything but emptiness in the pit of your stomach. Not even anger.

Before he moved a muscle to claim the spotlight, he turned to you, daring to offer his hand again. But it felt less like a “Job well done!” and more like a pitiful “I’m sorry.” And you had had enough of condolences. 

You turned away and left the stage in the midst of the raging applause for Suguru. No one else may have caught the cold shoulder, but to Suguru, it felt like he was trapped in ice. He could leave your life forever now for all you cared.

This was your one, final chance to make things even between you two.

But reality was a bitch.

You couldn’t get away from him quick enough.

Yes, you’ve gotten to travel the country. Yes, you got the opportunity of a lifetime to go overseas just off your hard work alone, but all of that meant nothing if you were only second best. 

It was redundant. 

What was even the point in trying? You would never be good enough to stand on your own. Always under his shadow, drowning in his wake.

It wasn’t.fucking.fair.

You brushed past your team lead, contestants—anyone trying to tell you how amazing you did. You couldn’t stand being bathed in lies and beelined out the back of the venue. 

“Fuck this.” You choked back tears, breath escaping you as you pushed the door open.

The contrast of sharp, cold air whipped your face, making you realize you didn’t grab your jacket, but it was just what you needed to set the gravity of your situation in. 

You were nothing. 

You bawled your fists.

And foolish for trying. 

Hyperventilating.

Look at what you came from. Look at what you get for trying to change that.

Hot, fat tears spilled down your face as you huddled in a corner of the building. You wrapped your arms around your knees, trying to shield the icy winds, but you already felt dead inside. Pathetic and worthless. It was out of your hands to change that.

A voice called after you, belonging to the last person you wanted to see right now. That soft, angelic voice that swooned the world and made your insides boil. Why couldn’t he just get it?? Why couldn’t he stay the fuck away??

You thought you had hidden yourself well by putting a bit of distance between the exit and the corner you tucked into, but he found you in seconds, tears dried on your face, crouching into your knees.

He stood there gaping, completely overwhelmed by the state of you.

For once, he was out of words.

“Well??” It was hoarse and cracking. 

“I-I’m—”

“Oh my God, pLEASE fucking save it!” You shook, burying your head into your arms.

It was enough that he got to bask in your pathetic breakdown with front-row seats. He didn’t need to pretend he didn’t enjoy it.

But Suguru was fed up with your bullshit and came looking to tell you about it. The final straw was leaving his extension of sympathy high and dry as you walked off stage. Giving him the ultimate “fuck you” in his moment of congratulations. 

He never understood why you hated him—the resentment, what happened, what he’d done. But he was about to make you explain yourself. 

“Get up.” Gentleness left his voice.

He came closer and towered over your petite frame, cornering you so you couldn’t run away. “You think I don’t know how much this meant to you?”

When you didn’t answer, he crouched down to your level. 

“Hey.” 

You buried yourself deeper. 

“Hey.”

“Don’t touch me.” You brushed him away, pressing your back into the wall as you stood up, shivering in the wind.

But it felt like you had punched him in the gut.

He had never seen you so bothered before, and the revelation that you were pointing the finger and naming him the culprit made his chest feel tight. It felt worse attempting to bury your heart on your sleeve. But the extent of your scorn was on full display.

After a moment of looking your bitterness in the face, it finally clicked for Suguru.

Why you hated him. Couldn't stand to look at him. Avoided him.

Why you started all of this competitive bullshit in the first place.

The root of it was more painfully obvious to see than the daggers in your eyes. What else could it be?

“You’re jealous.”

And that set you off.

“HA!” It almost hurt to laugh. “Jealous?!”

People could probably hear you inside the venue. But Suguru knew just what to say to get you to talk. 

“This whole time, I thought you were upset because I left, but…you’re just jealous.”

You snorted. “You’ve never worked hard a day in your life.”

“What? You don’t think I earned this?”

“Who knows? Mommy buys you everything.”

“Woah,” he held up a hand and laughed, “Is that what this is about?” 

Your cheeks burned hot, but you had egg on your face and had just spilled the beans. But fire still raged in your chest.

“You could have had anything else. Anything! Anything in the world, but you just had to take this from me!”

“How was I supposed to know??” he cut you off, “You stopped talking to me.” 

You felt a pang and fell silent—flurries of unread texts, unopened Snaps, and missed calls played in both of your minds. 

“How was I supposed to know anything? How was I supposed to have anything without making you feel bad?” 

“Me?” You scoffed. “Without me, you’d probably still be sitting on that dusty ass porch (you loved that porch), watching everyone go and fucking live life.”

“I was like 7.”

“9.” You rubbed the blooming goosebumps on your arms.

“Whatever, you think I owe you or something? You want a ‘thank you’?”

His tone made you shift, but you puffed up your chest.

“No, I don’t need a thank you." Your eyes narrowed. “I’m just not that impressed.”

Oh?

He scoffed, backing away with a smirk, arms swinging as he looked away then back at you. “You’re full of it.”

“You’re not that talented.”

He cocked his head, raising a brow. You were questioning his talent—clearly emotional and spewing lies—but it was a shot at his reputation nonetheless. 

His smirk faltered as he clasped his hands. “You wanna go?” And then he got closer. Your breath caught as he studied your face, his left arm shooting out to frame you, pinning you into the corner.

The heat radiating off his body should have been a comfort in the frosty air, but fuck, you also felt other things that raced your heart and made you hate yourself. 

He leaned over you. “How would you like to eat your words? Fried? Or sautéed?”

His eyes bore into yours, daring you to buck up or back down. But just because he finally had the balls to challenge you and take up space didn't mean you were intimidated.

He was the same little boy he'd always been.

And you were quick to remind him.

“Bite me, Get—”

Instead, he kissed, capturing your lips in a way that shot electricity down your spine and stole the breath and shriek right out of your body.

In an instant, you swore your pupils morphed into hearts. For so long, he's wanted to do that—kiss your sweet, supple lips that ramble nonsense and shut you up—bridge the gap between your broken friendship to ask for more, to make all your fire, resistance, and anger melt away...so you could come back to him.

Knees weak, you nearly staggered, scrambling for the walls to keep you up, but was saved by his hand cradling your hip to hold you. Keep you. Protect you. Your heart burst.

You pulled away, eyes heavy. Leaving a sliver of space between your lips to see your heated breaths mingling in the chilly air as he rested his forehead against yours. Softly, you cradled his face in your hand, feeling waves of longing swell through your body—his had already burst. Then you slapped him.

“How’s that for poetry?” And left. 

extended angel's note: this story took a TOTALLY different turn from what i originally planned (thanks Mac Miller) but omg it's sO much better and kinda fits into all of the sugu angst i have planned (oh how i love to hurt myself so). this story in particular was supposed to be like all smut and no exposition but um…things happen 😅 sO, all of the low-angst, ‘enemies’ to lovers lives in part 1, with a focus on the resolution in part 2: lovers who give in and chose each other arc while remaining focused on my original goal of making a smut that spotlights and actualizes realistic sex. learning each other, listening, patiently growing, and choosing.

[gloryy-vs]

i LOOOVE your acc so much, so when i saw that you’re taking nsfw requests, i just knew you’ll be doing the requests’ justice 😮‍💨 that neteyam with a breeding kink one was wheeeew.

could i request a reader who grew up with neteyam her entire life, the both of them used to telling each other everything. but neteyam doesn’t know how to tell her about his first wet dream being about her, and now he just feels awkward when she’s near bcause it’s all he can think about. reader picks up on him distancing himself and follows him out one night, not knowing he was trying to find a quiet place to masturbate. reader keeps on prying him since she’s been annoyed at the fact that he’s been avoiding her and now he’s telling her to leave, so neteyam ends up bursting and just telling her the truth. idk, like change up the entire thing if you want, i honestly just want more neteyam content but in your writing 🫶 thank you!

||

u horny mfs.

yes. but what if we turned this into mutual masturbation

characters: 21 yr old neteyam x 20 year old na’vi!reader

rating: NSFW. masturbating, wet dreams, praising

a/n: just so we’re all on the same page. neteyam might be “ooc” because these are characters that aren’t showcased in a nsfw or horny way, so their kinks/sex life is up to interpretation. that’s why i have people send requests in. 🫶🏻

not proof read cus i’m lazy.

||

It was painful being near you, knowing what went through his mind everytime he saw you walk by, bend over or emerge from the crystal waters. Seeing you soaked from head to toe was insufferable for Neteyam. You could tell something was bother him, especially by how he didn’t hang around you as often as you two used to when you were much younger. Every time you’d come by to join the group you could feel the awkwardness radiating from the 8 foot man, and he’d shuffle away after making up some kind of excuse.

You two were almost never alone, her make sure of it, immediately walking in the opposite direction and cursing himself silently if he saw you try and get near him. His confidence and slight ego broke down whenever he was around you. You were quite frankly sick of it. During the clans hunting time, you eyed the male Na’vi , seeing him abandon his siblings to a farther area on the shore. While he walked off you excused yourself from your newly made Metkayina friends, following after your old friend.

Neteyam found himself alone for a bit, the memory of the wet dream he had of you flashing through his head. He leaned himself against the rock, palming at his hard on and picturing you, bent over in front of him teasingly, begging for his warmth. His fantasy was cut short with the sound of your voice coming closer. “Nete? You hear..?” He heard you call out, immediately yanking his hand away from himself and crossing his legs over while standing.

“Y-yeah. Here. What is it? What’s up?” He said quickly, trying to dismiss your presence. You noticed he couldn’t even look you in the eye. his face contorted in thought.

“What’s up with you? You never hang around me anymore..” You trailed off while your hand found a spot on his toned and muscular arm. He drew a sharp breath, raising his head while looking down at you. “Just gotta get some space. New environment I guess.” Neteyam tried to convince you, but you still felt off. You squeezed his arm reassuringly , causing him to lick his lower lip anxiously while avoiding your eyes again. He squinted them shut and struggled to look at you again. It was eating him alive.

“Are you sure? I mean, we’ve always done like, everything together. I’m here if you need me, whatever you need me for I can do it.” You said, trying to look at him muscled body and soft lips without making it obvious. The way he presented himself as nonchalant and almost rough had you entranced. Neteyam rolled his eyes impatiently, gripping your shoulders tightly. He lowered his head to level yours, staring into your eyes.

“I need you. It’s fucking eating at me looking at you right now as if I don’t dream of your body every night.” He shook you lightly, searching for the right words. “Everything about you just fucking draws me in, thinking about you bent over, underneath me, on top of me. Everything.” He said.

He let go of you, rubbing his face in his hands, visibly tensed up from how hard he still was. Seeing your eyes widen at each sentence he said, it drove him crazy how you didn’t even seem opposed, with your mouth hanging open slightly. You stood there, watching him fight a battle within himself. You’d be lying to him and yourself if you didn’t think of similar scenarios, except not as often as the male did. You leaned against the rock behind you, fingers hesitantly playing with the knots in your loincloth. Neteyam stared at you, his hands dropping from his face. Your eyes dropped from his to his waist, his hard on clearly visible behind the thin fabric. It only entice your more.

“I told you I’d help you, didn’t I? Let me help you, Nete.” You said, holding your chin up while letting your cloth drop to the sand by your feet. He looked so relieved, thankful you didn’t think of him as a pervert. Neteyam removed his own cloth, surprising you with his girth and length. A perfect mix of both. You eyed the clear liquid pooling at his tip, biting your lip at the sight. Taking your index and middle finger, you brought them to your blue lips, sucking them and covering them in your saliva before taking it down south. Rubbing your clit in soft circles, you lifted up your right foot to press against the rock behind you, showcasing all of yourself to him. Neteyam looked desperate, already pumping his cock slowly, matching the pace at which your fingers were moving.

Seeing his reaction to your body grew your confidence and so you slipped a single finger inside of your gummy walls, leg twitching in response. You couldn’t resist, and added in another digit to press against your g-spot as you fingered yourself, watching Neteyams pace quicken as well.

“Fuck, you look so beautiful.” He said softly, but his eyes appeared lustful, staring at how your fingers intricately pumped in and out of you. Neteyam gripped his cock, his hand easily pumping him from the amount of pre cum collected from before. He angled his head, eyes darting from his cock to your soaked cunt. He imagined stretching you out, hearing you small whimpers and gasps as he easily slipped inside of you. The thought was too much, and his hips bucked aggressively. Your hand started moving faster, bringing your left hand over to run fast circles against your hard clit. Your body was growing overstimulated, a peaking feeling growing in your stomach at each thrust.

“I wanna feel you Nete, I wanna feel you deep in me.” You said, head thrown back as you fought your bodies demands to stop before you bursted. His breaths became more vocal, the sound of his hand stroking his thick cock grew louder as well. “Cum for me baby, please. Let me see what that pussy can do. I cant wait to feel you wrap around this cock like the slut you are.” He grew hungrier for you, eyes staring intensely at how fast your fingers were moving inside your already swollen hole.

That’s what sent you over the edge, your fingers burying deep inside of you as you orgasmed all over your hand. You whined, grinding your clit against your hand to come down from the sudden climax. Releasing a string of moans, you saw Neteyam suck in air between his teeth, pumping himself as fast as he could before his own cum spurted out, some landing on the sand while the rest dripped down his hand from the tip. His hips bucked into his hand, all while he tried to catch his breath. His golden eyes raked over your body, eyes meeting yours. You seemed hungry and impatient, and he knew just from that. This was far from over.

[xozombiee]

“𝑺𝑶𝑴𝑬 𝑾𝑨𝒀!” | C. KAMO

✫| synopsis: emoboy!choso who works at spencer’s sees how nervous you are about trying out a new toy, so he offers to help!

warnings: sex toy usage, pet names as always :3 (sweetheart, honey, baby, etc), lowkey switch!reader, braindead!choso at the end LMFAOO, little hair pulling, no protection used..wrap it up. uhhh idk what else

notes: uhh guys pretend that batteries are included for vibes LMFAOO and..do i have a thing for car sex?

your feet ache as you walk through the mall. a friend was supposed to meet you half an hour ago to go shopping for dresses, only for her to text and say ‘sorry gotta cancel’.

the public chatter of others fill your head as you walk. since you were already here, you figured you’d look around. it’s been a while since you’ve shopped for yourself, and you were in desperate need of a new vibrator.

a colorful sign from the distance catches your attention. it read ‘spencer’s’ in orangey-yellow words. they sold sex toys right? the last time you checked they did. your eyes light up, figure walking a little faster toward the store.

when you enter, you’re met with the sight of shirts on display against the wall, a rack of hoodies and sweatshirts with ugly anime designs on them, and the section with shot glasses with corny messages written on them.

you pretend to be just shopping for a few minutes, not wanting to immediately go to the back of the store. as you pick through some of the clothes on a rack, a voice startled you from behind.

“need help finding anything, ma’am?” the voice asks lowly.

turning swiftly, you’re met with the sight of a taller man. the name on his tag read ‘choso’ with a small sticker next to it. he was young, had piercings along his ears and one on his lip, and a faint pink scar along the bridge of his nose that stretched out to his cheeks.

and he was kinda cute.

you find yourself staring for longer than needed. with a quick nod, you advert your gaze to something else.

“no, no. i’m fine. thank you though.” you reply nervously.

“well, if you need anything just let me know, yeah?” he replies, sounding uninterested.

you give him another nod before he walks off, tending to other customers. watching him out of the corner of your eye, you sigh a little.

this was the reason why you needed a new vibrator immediately. any attractive male that approached you was in danger. you’re surprised you didn’t jump him when he first walked over.

when you make sure no one’s watching, you quickly make your way to the back of the store. the small pink and purple bullets and vibrators come into view as you try to casually approach.

after hiding your body between the shelves by the wall, you look at all of your options. a bullet? nah, you’d already tried that. maybe go for something bigger?

your gaze catches on a cute, pink 8.5 inch vibrator with a ‘rabbit’ attached. before you can even stop yourself, you reach for it. the box made seem like the size was nothing. with a small shrug, you clutch the box next to your thigh. you had to find something else to buy with it.

yes, buying sex toys was normal to society, but it wasn’t normal for you.

after maybe ten minutes, you cautiously make way to the cashier. your eyes are glued to the floor as you put your things up on the counter. hopefully no one would see you walking out the store with a pink dildo in your bag.

“find everything alright?” that voice says again.

you look up with wide eyes, the pierced man with two space buns staring back at you. choso held no amusement in his eyes like you thought he would; he was nonchalant if anything. you give him a nod, looking to the snacks hanging from the counter.

your voice was weak, “a little..overwhelmed, but yeah.”

he flashes you a small smile, putting the toy and socks into a bag. “overwhelmed? this your first time shopping for—” he pauses, glancing down at the bag.

it was obvious he was just trying to make conversation, but you weren’t all that interested. still, you tried to be respectful.

“er..not really. i mean, i’ve had one before, but it’s-” you cut yourself off, cringing at how pathetic you sounded. “i’ve never tried that kind before.” you answer, going a little quiet at the end.

he raises a brow, “never had one with the rabbit?” he asks without really putting thought into his words.

a small nervous laugh falls from you, shaking your head in reply. with that, he leans forward a little, his eyes scanning your figure.

“i’ll show you how to use it if you want.”

your mouth goes dry, looking at him slightly appalled.a chill went up your spine from just his words. your shaky hands move to grab your wallet, brain attempting to find the words wanting to be freed from your throat.

you blink a few times, “you’ll show me? as in..”

choso looks at you, the uninterested expression still on his face. “my shift ends in twenty. i’m parked on the side by macy’s.” he says, watching a few people walk into the store.

now…you’d be an idiot to not meet him. but the contemplation was there. you could just go home, try the toy out yourself. that’d be the sane thing to do.

however, you hadn’t used that small little bullet on your bedside in months since buying a new one was always something you brushed off. so, you weren’t gonna miss this chance to get some dick.

you insert your card into the reader, feeling choso’s eyes on you. when the small device rings, you take it out, putting it back in your wallet.

he hands you the bag, your fingers brushing over his as you take it. it was like an electric current ran into your arm by his touch. you chew on the skin inside your cheek, feet staying planted in front of the counter despite your head telling you to move.

“i’ll see you in twenty.” you say, slowly walking away from the counter.

choso watches you in surprise. he partly only said that for a reaction, the sadist in him wanting to see your cute little eyes widen from his words.

when you exit the store, turning around the corner and leaving his sight with your cute skirt flowing, the crotch in his sweats begin to harden. it left little for an imagination choso wouldn’t need now, and every tomorrow, he hopes.

twenty minutes seem to pass quickly. you stand outside the macy’s entrance, mindlessly scrolling on your phone. the doors slide open, the sound catching your attention. you look up to see choso, space buns and all.

he nods toward the parking lot, motioning for you to follow. and you do, like a clueless puppy. choso leads you to a black colored toyota parked in the back of the lot.

his thumb presses one of the buttons on his keys, unlocking the car with a noise. he pulls you to the passengers side, opening the door for you. his hand finds your lower back as you climb inside. when he assures you’re in all the way, he closes the door.

you watch him from inside, his legs carrying him to the drivers side slower than you’d prefer. when he gets in, he settles into the seat with a soft groan. his hand finds the ignition, slotting the key in and turning it to start the car.

it rumbles lightly, the sound filling the silence between you two. you watch as he turns the wheel with one hand as the car starts to move.

minutes start to pass as you watch him, not even questioning where you were going. he could’ve been taking you somewhere to kill you..would you care? not really.

when he finally parks, you’re in a more secluded area of the mall parking lot. he was near the empty sears that had been closed for about five years, the blue sign still hanging high up.

choso glances over at you, or rather the bag in your lap that you clutched tightly onto.

“open it up.”

you blink at him for a second before complying, hands moving to unravel it from the bag. your delicate fingers try to tear the tape off of it, but struggle as it’s not letting up against the box.

he notices, lip twitching at the side as he watched. one of his hands come up to your wrist, taking the box in his other. you watch as he slowly pulls a blade from his pocket, cutting through the tape with ease.

choso notices your expression, the confusion written all over it as your eyes continue to look at the blade.

he chuckles, closing it and putting it back into his pants. “i was opening some new merch that came in the store today. forgot to give it back to yuki.”

you let a small ‘oh’ fall from your lips in understanding. choso takes the box back into his grasp, unraveling the toy from its packaging. the sight of something pink comes into view, and your eyes widen at how small it looks in his hand.

choso fidgets with it, “you said you’ve never tried one of these?”

“no.” you reply, keeping your eyes trained on the object in his hand. “i’ve only ever used one of the bullets.”

he sighs a little, looking up at you. “get in the back.”

you look at him, brows raised in surprise, “what?”

the pierced male leans forward, his face inches from your own. “get in the back.”

despite the music from the car’s stereo playing lowly in the background, your audible gulp overpowered it. you let out a shaky breath as you move to your knees, climbing into the backseat of the car.

he watches you, the skirt you wore lifting up as you shoved yourself in the back. choso followed soon after, moving to sit beside you in the closed space.

you watch him from the other side of the backseat with your shoulders pressed against the window. one of your legs propped itself onto the seat between you two, the other on the floorboard.

choso glances down at your underwear that was shying underneath the cloth on your legs. a small wet patch adorned the lacy piece you wore. his hand slowly moves to you ankle, his thumb moving back and forth against your skin.

“is it okay if i touch you?” he asks in a whisper.

a quick nod comes from you in response. your eager eyes watch him, expecting him to move closer to you.

his hand trails up further on your leg, “words, sweetheart.”

“please, choso.” you whine, enjoying that electric feeling from his skin on yours again.

choso gives you a sympathetic look. “please what? need you to be specific, honey.”

“touch me.”

he lets his hand move up your leg, making its way to your upper thigh. one side of your skirt pushes up, giving him a clearer view of your underwear. he smiles slightly at the cute purple lining that stuck to your lower stomach.

you feel his hand pull you down a little by your hip, back fully against the seat. his hand moves back to stay planted on your stomach, the fabric of your skirt now in his palm. his other hand picks the dildo back up that sat on the console, pressing onto the ‘on’ button.

the sound echos through the car, making the anxiety in your stomach build up. choso looks down at you, his hooded eyes boring into your soul.

he doesn’t give you a warning before he’s pressing the baby pink toy to your underwear. a small gasp evokes from you, back arching against the seat. choso slowly moves his hand on your stomach down to your hip, keeping that side in place.

everything felt heavenly. vibrations moved into your cunt, making your chest heave. your thighs want to shut together, but choso’s body keeps you from doing so.

“shh. you’re okay, baby.” he mutters, continuing to press the vibrator into the fabric.

you let out soft groans and gasps when the toy hits against your clit just right. when you feel that euphoric tightness in your lower stomach, your hand moves to clutch onto choso’s wrist.

“wait-” you whisper out, “want more.”

choso raises his brows, continuing his movement with the toy against you. your head falls back, hand clutching onto his wrist as the pressure builds up.

your jaw slightly hangs open but no words were escaping your lips, just soft cries. choso watched the scene intently as you squeezed your eyes shut and your body spasmed. you came hard, drenching those lace panties even more with your cum.

the sound of your heart beat in your ears lets you know you’re still alive. you listen as choso turns the toy off momentarily. “that was quick.” he comments as your heavy breaths fill the car.

you open your eyes to shoot a meaningless glare at him. he doesn’t say anything, only rubbing small circles on your hip.

“it was barely anything.” he says with a small shrug, “we should test it out with the panties off.”

with a small nod and ‘yes’ requested from him, his fingers start to dip underneath the band of the purple underwear. choso slides them off with ease after letting you lift your hips to get them closer to the ground.

you feel the somewhat cool air hit your pussy that was glistening. a sudden burst of vulnerability comes over you as you press your thighs together to hide from the man that sits in front of you.

his fingers move up your calves, up to the side of your thighs. he brushes them gently, keeping eye contact with you. “don’t need to hide from me, honey.”

at that, you slowly return to your state from before. he watches your pretty pussy come into view, his gaze going sinister at the sight. choso moves one of his hands to the edge of your core, hovering his palm just above your clit.

“so gorgeous.” he mutters, mostly to himself.

the sound of the toy starts up again. you’d figure he’d give a warning before putting it in, but he doesn’t. choso watches your eyes widen as he inserts all four inches of the dildo inside, the rabbit moving along your clit.

an unfamiliar hunger overtook his existence as he watched you squirm underneath him. choso slowly slotted the pink toy back and forth inside of you. you struggled to find something to hold as the pleasure took over your senses.

your hand is suddenly enwrapped by his, that electric current returning to your skin. he moves it to rest beside your head, his other hand maneuvering against you.

the sound of your pleasure almost makes choso’s head spin. he wants nothing more than to throw the plastic toy out of the window and shove his dick all the way into you. but he knew he wouldn’t be able to control himself. you seemed like such a sweet girl, and he didn’t want to ruin that.

“mm..’m close, choso.” you rasp, looking into his eyes. “don’t wanna cum with that.”

choso looks at you dumbfounded, trying to process your words. he watches you reach for his hand, pulling the pink toy away from your pussy.

you lean up, pressing your forehead against his. “would you fuck me if i asked nicely?”

“don’t bother.”

not even a millisecond passes after his words before his lips are attaching to yours. choso discards the toy to the front seats, pulling you closer to him.

you feel the hardness under his sweats pressing into you. with a small wiggle of your hips, he lets out a sigh into your lips. his hands find their way to your waist, pulling you up from laying against the seat.

choso places you into his lap, hands curled around the back of your thighs. his head moves upward to keep the connection between your tongues. you bite down onto his bottom lip, and his hands squeeze your flesh.

“please.” you murmur against him, “don’t tease, choso.”

he pulls his mouth away from yours, looking into those gorgeous irises you held. “i like the way you say my name.” he whispers.

you feel his hands remove themselves from you, going to the waistband of his sweats. within a moment, they’re pulled to his thighs. choso looks up at you in anticipation.

“goin’ at your pace, baby.”

your hands fall onto his built chest as you sink all the way down on him, driving the entirety of him deep within you. his hands fly to your hips when it you flutter around him, but then grabs for your wrist on his chest, intertwining your fingers with his.

a moment passes before you begin to lift your hips up and down, pushing his length through you. your movements, your warm skin, fluttering eyes—it's so overwhelming for choso. his head falls back, and even though you’re going at such a slow pace, it feels like you’re milking him, intent on making him fill you to the brim.

choso looks up at you, his brows furrowed with sweat building between them. his face is flushed, highlighting the scar on his nose. you almost cum right then and there from the sight of him looking so desperate.

when you speed up, he groans loudly. “you’re gonna fuckin’ kill me.”

moving closer to his ear, “that was the intent.” you whisper.

he unsuccessfully stifles a groan when your breath meets his ear. his hands are loosely closed around your thighs, not even wanting to press you tighter against him because his brain is practically melting.

you tug on the buns in his hair, forcing him to lock his gaze with yours. the pain in his scalp doesn’t phase him, in fact, he feels himself getting closer from the feeling. he watches your expression change with each thrust, holding him in your hand like a puppet.

“so fuckin’ pretty, choso.” you gasp, kissing up his neck.

he inhales sharply from your praise, “fuck—”

you looked godly--his savior, and your pussy was one squeeze away from sending him to heaven. you were giving him this gift of riding him and god he was so grateful for it--for you.

“feels ‘s good,” he whimpers, looking at you through half lidded eyes.

when you feel him twitch inside of you, your legs find what’s left of the energy you have left to quicken your pace even more. "come on baby, come on," you whisper to him.

he isn't used to this. he isn't used to being guided to his orgasm first, but he his brain is dissociating. he can't think of anything else--he's lost control over his brain and he feels himself tip over the edge of an orgasm.

choso groans when you flutter around him as you cum. he’s thrusting his hips up into you with a newfound force. it requires you to tighten your grip on his shoulders to stay put as he empties his load deep inside you, his sweet moans intercepted with apologies.

hours could’ve gone by, and you wouldn’t realize it. your body lays atop of him, hands lazily gripping onto his shoulders. choso doesn't pull out his cock, keeping it buried inside of you.

his hands are locked together, circled around your waist. his breathing has evened out along with yours, and the only thing filling the silence is the radio that’s barely above zero on the stereo.

“so..did you like the toy?”

[starsxblazing]

Im so happy your requests are open. Could i request azriel x reader where they're already in a relationship and reader overhears azriel mention hed like to add a 3rd person in the bedroom. Reader just shuts down and cant believe hed even think of such a thing. Shes so hurt and distant even his touch makes her wanna vomit. Maybe she breaks up with up with him while hes thinking of marrying her. And then he finds out why shes so distant and it was just a huuge huuuge misunderstanding (idk maybe she walked in at the wrong time and overheard cassian talkin about how hes gonna get azriel in a 3 way for azriels bachelor party once he asks reader to marry him.) And now hes gotta win the girl back and grovel on behalf of his stupid brother lol. angst with a happy ending.

I just want to say just how much I appreciate all of the requests with the amazing ideas that I get. I enjoy writing each one so very much!

Misunderstandings

----

You padded silently through the river house in search of your boyfriend, being sure to use every lesson of stealth that Azriel had taught you to surprise him. It had been three days since you had seen him due to Rhysand sending you out to speak with other courts. You had been told that he was here with Cassian but the bottom floor was empty so you continued on. A smile formed on your face as it usually did when you thought of him and all of the amazing years that you had been together.

It was as perfect as you thought that a relationship could be and you were happier than you ever were in your entire existence. He was the only person that you could ever imagine spending the rest of your life with. There was no way that any other male could compare to him and how well that he treated you because not a day went by that he never failed in making you feel like a queen. 

After listening through every closed door, you still came up empty handed until you were outside of Cassian’s door. His laugh could be heard, clear delight and mischief in it. Even though it was unlike you, you lingered outside of the door to listen in on the conversation that was apparently amusing.

“A threesome,” Azriel stated.

“It will be the best time of your life,” Cassian laughed. “Y/N and another girl? Can’t tell me it doesn’t sound like a blessing from the Mother.”

“I think bringing another female into our bed is exactly-”

You darted from the home as your heart dropped at what you heard. The thought of sharing your boyfriend with anyone had your stomach turning as the betrayal hit you in full force. Returning to the home that you shared with Azriel only made you feel worse and you found yourself in front of the toilet, releasing everything that was in your stomach.

Once you could muster up just enough strength, you made your way to your bed on shaky legs. Mental images of the love of your life so much as touching another female had you feeling sick again and the tears came in full force. You couldn’t stand the thought that he was still there more than likely discussing which female he should pick to present to you.

It made you feel like you were nothing and your entire relationship had been a lie. Had he had these thoughts often? Did he lust after other females and you never noticed? Had you failed to please him in bed? Had everything been for nothing? The more that you thought, the more that you cried until you were finally taken by sleep.

“Absolutely not.”

Azriel stared at Cassian, his arms crossed and jaw clenched. The last thing that he would ever want was someone else in his bed. The thought of touching another female much less anyone else touching you had his anger spiking along with his stomach twisting. 

“You really don’t want to accept my bachelor party gift?” Cassian asked, a hand on his heart as if he was offended.

“How would you feel if it was Nesta?”

“Sounds fun.”

He could only glare at his brother, unable to comprehend how the male could stand such a thing. Azriel’s jealous territorial streak shot through him that was followed by his own pain of seeing you broken hearted for simply suggesting such a thing. Even if it was something that he truly did want, he knew you wouldn’t want another female touching him and rightfully so.

“I haven’t even asked her to marry me yet,” Azriel scoffed. “She might not even say yes.”

“Are you kidding me!?” Cassian exclaimed, sitting up in his seat in disbelief. “She’s crazy about you just as much as you are with her! You’ve had that ring for weeks now. What’s up with that?”

“I don’t know,” he muttered but he knew full well that it was his own insecurities. “I need to get home. She should be home by now and it’s already getting late.”

“Yea, yea.” His brother waved a hand in dismissal as Azriel stood. “Even though I think you should stay and have more wine with me. It’s one of Rhys’s good bottles.”

“Of course it is.” Azriel rolled his eyes, making his way to the door before glancing at Cassian again. “You better not ever mention this conversation. To me or anyone else.”

With that, he left and rushed home. If there was nothing else that he loved, it was falling asleep beside you at night. The way that you always moved as close as you could get made it all the more special. He had finally gotten the one thing that he had always wanted most in life and he knew that he was blessed and he would never do anything to jeopardize it.

When he arrived home, there wasn’t a light on in the entire house which only made him frown. You usually waited for him to get home no matter how late it was and the fact that the sun had just gone down had him worried. The lightest scent of your tears hit him just as he made it to the bedroom floor, causing his stomach to drop.

He found you already in a deep sleep and his frown deepened on his face as his eyebrows furrowed when he noticed that your eyes were indeed swollen from crying. As he silently changed his clothes, his shadows became as restless as his thoughts, wondering what could have caused you such distress.  

He eased as gently as he could into the bed so that he didn’t wake you but when he went to pull you into him, you flinched and jerked upright. Even in the darkness, he could see your hateful glare before you moved as far away from him as you could get. He knew then that something was seriously wrong.

“What’s wrong, love?” he asked gently, a hint of panic starting to rise in him.

You didn’t respond so he tried touching your arm and you simply jerked it out of his grasp. His heart dropped into his stomach and panic continued to rise to the point that he wanted to drop to his knees and beg you if it was needed to get answers. Instead of doing so, he let you sleep in hopes that you had simply had pent up frustrations from your mission that you weren’t ready to talk about.

You awoke early the next morning since you had gone to bed so early and was relieved that Azriel was already gone. His side of the bed was cold as it was most days of the week. Your relief soon faded when your thoughts nagged at you, making you wonder if he was out scouting the city or maybe another court for another female.

All of the trust that you had in him was completely shattered as you wondered if he had been cheating on all of the late nights that he alleged that he was on missions for Rhys. If he had a secret mistress, you thought that may be an option for him if the other female could keep it a secret. Unable to handle the disgust rolling through like a storm, you packed what you could into a bag and left the one place that had been your safe haven.

It wasn’t hard to find an empty apartment in the city and even though it was unfurnished, you didn’t care. It would be just as easy to have a mattress placed in a bedroom. Paired with enough food to get you by, it would be enough. Your only intention was to hide away from the people that you had seen as your family. It wasn’t just the betrayal of your boyfriend but also with Cassian who saw you as a brother. He was wholeheartedly encouraging Azriel to basically cheat on you. You had thought that Azriel felt the same way as you did and wouldn’t want anyone else touching you but it appeared as if you were wrong. 

After two weeks of being alone in your bare apartment, the depression had completely taken over. You missed him more than you ever thought that you would but your thoughts were always on repeat of mental images of him putting his hands on another female how he had always done you now that you were no longer his problem to deal with. 

It was late in the night and since you hardly slept anymore, you instantly noticed the piece of paper and pen that landed on the floor beside your poor excuse of a bed. You blew out a sigh of relief when you instantly noticed that it was Rhysand’s handwriting but that feeling quickly disappeared as you read the message.

“You are needed at the river house tomorrow afternoon to discuss an issue that we are having with the court.”

Having to leave the safety of your apartment would mean that you would risk seeing Azriel. What was more, going to a meeting with the Inner Circle meant that you would have to see your boyfriend. Or maybe your ex boyfriend now. It was something that you weren’t ready to face. Not ready to face the possibility that there may be a new female by his side.

Sleep never did find you that night, your anxiety too high to do anything but sob as your body shook uncontrollably while your heart pounded wildly in your chest.

Azriel came home that night to find you gone, your scent barely noticeable. It was enough to tell him that you had been gone for a while. Hoping to find some form of answers, he took two steps at the time to the bedroom only to find it vacant. Your drawers to your armoire were open and empty, the sight paired with how you had acted the night before sending his heart racing in true and utter panic. 

He instantly took to the skies, hoping to find you anywhere. Unfortunately, it was later in the night so there weren’t many people that he could inquire to about your whereabouts. He came up empty handed so before the sun could fully rise in the sky, he was at the river house in hopes that you were there. He felt as if someone would have told you if you were but there was also the chance that Rhysand could find you. 

“Please tell me you have seen her,” he begged as soon as his sleepy eyed brother opened the door.

“Who?” Rhys asked, his voice still full of sleep as he rubbed his eyes.

“Y/N!” he snapped. “I haven’t seen her since last night!”

That was enough to get the High Lord’s attention and bring him fully to the present. There was a gentle caress on his mental shield so he dropped the barrier to let the male see his memories. Rhys flinched as he pulled away but there was sympathy that he didn’t want on his friend’s face.

“Don’t panic,” the High Lord ordered in a gentle tone. “We will find her.”

“How are we going to find her when we don’t know anything!?” Azriel snapped, worry, panic, and pain lacing into every word.

“It didn’t appear as if there was a struggle and there were no unusual scents to indicate that she may have been abducted,” Rhysand mused. “Even if it was the case, she is trained well enough to handle whoever could have managed to come in.”

“But-”

“Has there been any disagreements as of late?”

“No-”

“Has she been expressing any discomfort with either of you being gone too long on missions?”

“No!” he exclaimed, frustrated because he had already come up empty handed on those thoughts as well. “Everything has been as perfect and happy as it could be!”

“We will find her,” his brother repeated gently.

Azriel’s chest began to heave at all of the horribly possible scenarios that could have happened to you. The thought of you being taken and injured hurt but what hurt him the most was the nagging suspicion that you had left him. Not only had you left him but done so when he wasn’t present and hadn’t communicated anything which was unlike you. Communication was a strong principle of a relationship for you so he must have done something irreparably wrong for you to leave him without a trace.

Unable to sit idly by and wait for Rhysand to search for you, he returned to the city. Despite the fact that he had searched all day and asked everyone he came across, it was as futile as the night before on any information about you. The pain felt as if it was eating him from the inside out while suffocating him in the process.

There were so many things that made him feel unworthy of anything but you had come along and changed that. There had been so many things that had hurt him in his life. If he lost you, it would be the one pain that he wouldn’t be capable of enduring. 

A week passed and each day was a repeat of the one before. He was sure that the citizens of Velaris were sick of him asking about you, especially when he was doing his best to be discreet. At the end of each day, he found himself curled up in the bed that he used to share with you to release the tears that he did his best to keep locked away until he was alone. His appetite had completely disappeared and he was unable to even force himself to eat. 

By the end of the second week, Rhysand had formed a plan. He watched as the High Lord wrote a note to you requesting your presence. The letter disappeared and he was reassured that if nothing else, you would come when the court needed you. His shadows had been restless the entirety of the two weeks of you being gone and tonight was no different. He was just as restless as they were with anticipated hope.

The entire day was spent pacing in different rooms to pass the time while thinking of any and every speech for whatever he had unknowingly done wrong. Feyre had done her best to calm and reassure him but nothing would soothe him until he saw you. It was what he had thought until you strode through the door of the river house.

Your scent hit him so hard that it made him stumble when he went to take a step towards you. He froze on his second step when you didn’t look at him but instead opted to watch your High Lord with anger in your eyes. It was at that time that he took a moment to do a full assessment of you only to find that you appeared to be in the same emotional state that he was in. You had lost weight and the dark circles were a harsh contrast to your unusually pale skin.

“I’m here,” you snapped, causing Rhysand to frown. “I’ve got things to be doing.”

“Care to fill us in on what ‘things’ you are busy with?” the High Lord countered.

“It’s not your business what I do with my personal time.”

“The personal time that a member of my court has used to stay hidden for two weeks.”

“I may be a part of your court, Rhysand but I do not have to report all of my movements.”

“No,” Rhys agreed. “But as a member of my Inner Circle, I would like the courtesy of knowing that you are safe when you decide to disappear without a trace. Maybe I should make you a spy as well since you do such a good job of it.”

“I don’t have time for this.” You bared your teeth at the High Lord who only smiled in return, the action causing you to huff. “Call me if there is actual business.”

“Y/N,” Azriel started when you glared at him once you began to make your way to the door. 

“Don’t fucking touch me,” you growled.

The four words had him recoiling his hand from where he tried to stop you. There was a hatefulness in your eyes that had never been laid upon him before and he could feel the burning beginning in his eyes. He loved you more than words could ever explain but yet here you were, staring at him with so much disgust. It made him feel lower than he had ever felt in his life. Lower than how he had felt as a child locked in a lightless cell.

“Please, please tell me what’s wrong,” he begged, blocking out everyone else in the room around them. “Please.”

“I really can’t believe you Azriel.” Tears filled your eyes and the pain in them had his knees buckling. “You can’t have your cake and eat it too.”

“Y/N, please-”

He tried once again to grasp your arm to stop you but your face paled as if the simple thought of him touching you made you sick. Every insecurity that he ever had began to resurface, every insecurity that had been healed simply because of your support. His worst fear had been confirmed but he refused to give up until he knew what had gone so horribly wrong. 

“Please tell me what I did,” he begged again once the both of you were outside. “How can I make it right?”

“You can make it right by going back to whatever bitch you wanted.” You swirled on him so quickly that he hardly had time to register that you did so, leaving nothing a handful of inches between the two of you. “I wasn’t enough so go find better!”

“Y/N, what are you talking about?” he asked in astonishment. “You are all that I’ve ever wanted. You are everything that I have been searching for my entire life.”

“I’m all you want but yet you have no problem with wanting a threesome?” His heart dropped as he realized what had happened. “Did you really think I would go along with that? Or were you planning it with someone else?”

“I wasn’t-”

Azriel took a deep breath and dropped down onto one knee while pulling the small box out of his pocket. He had kept it with him every single day and he was thankful that he did even if he was silently cursing his brother for ruining the proposal. Before opening it, he wrapped his arms around your middle and pulled you into him before burying his face into your stomach.

“Cassian,” he mumbled with a defeated sigh. “Is a fucking idiot.”

“Oh, I know all about him encouraging such an idiotic thing!” you exclaimed while halfheartedly trying to wiggle free from him. 

“He was trying to talk me into accepting a gift from him for..”

“For what?”

He took a deep breath, savoring the contact, before he pulled away and looked up to you. A small gasp escaped your lips when he opened the box that held the blue sapphire engagement ring. 

“For a bachelor party if you said yes when I proposed.”

Hope was the only thing that he could cling to when tears formed in your eyes as they darted between him and the ring. He took note that your body began to shake just as the smallest smile formed on your face.

“You- You were..”

“This isn’t exactly the way that I had planned it out,” he chuckled, feeling relieved to see some light back in your eyes. “My life has been nothing but darkness until you came into it and lit it up as if you were the brightest sun that could ever exist. A sun that made all of the dark disappear and made me feel truly seen for the first time in my life. I have never known true love and happiness until I was able to call you mine and it would be the greatest honor that I could ever receive to be able to call you my wife.”

Tears were falling freely down your face but your eyes never left his. The love and adoration had returned and it took everything in him to stay on one knee until he received a reply of some sort.

“Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes!” you exclaimed.

He was barely able to stand in time to catch you before you launched yourself onto him, throwing your arms around his neck and squeezing tightly. It bordered on pain but he didn’t dare complain now that you were back in his arms.

“Thank the Mother.”

You giggled at his words and then gave him the brightest smile when he slid the ring on your finger. He crashed his lips to yours, appreciating every single thing about you in a way that he hadn’t before. When he pulled away, there was a mischievous grin adorning your face.

“I think me and Cassian need to have a nice long chat.”

He laughed, a genuine true laugh, before following you inside and enjoying the scolding that his brother earned.  

@amara-moonlight @allygrace74 @sidthedollface2 @historygeekqueen @hnyclover @kalulakunundrum @historygeekqueen @bubybubsters @thisblogisaboutabook @mybestfriendmademe @caroline-books @justvibbinghere @wisdomofthebrain

[kisses4tom]

Sooo, since we got Uncle Billy do we now get GirlDad!Tom ?? I’ve looked high and low for a Tom X Reader family story😂😭 your writing is amazing <3

ᡣ𐭩 DADDY TOM

───────────────

YAYY FINALLY SOMEONE REQUESTED THIS!! 😭 I've been dying to write something like this since I have already made an uncle tommy hc! and thank you so much ml 💕

I think we can ALL collectively agree that Tom would be the BEST girl dad, right? 🌚 so the baby will be a little girl!

also I'm gonna make this a teen pregnancy (18), so from the very start up til now!

───────────────

when he finds out he would probably freeze for a moment before finally reacting (gotta soak it in yk)

he would be happy but shocked and confused at the same time

scared not to be present enough because of tour and the band

he would always kiss and touch your stomach

he'd cry when hearing the baby's heartbeat to the doctor 🥹🫶🏻

"I want the baby to be healthy, but if I had to guess I think it's a boy" (he 100% wants a girl)

idk I feel like he would call the baby "kleine Prinzessin" (little princess) or "kleiner Soldat" (little soldier) !!

when you go into labor he tries to keep his cool but deep down he's in full panic mode

the first time he met/held her it was like love at first sight for him even if he didn't quite know how to act since he never really had any past experiences with babies

he's very careful and gentle with her

always holding her

he would attack her with tickles to hear her little laugh

kiss attacks also

playing with her all the time

he wouldn't essentially spoil her (that's uncle Billy's job 😉) but he definitely gets her most things because he can't say no to that little face!

likes holding and showing her around: "look who's that in the mirror? it's you!"

definitely hiding her from the media

yet he LOVES talking about her in interviews!

though very very VERY rarely he would bring her out on stage and hold her like mf simba when she was about 1/2

his heart is always full whenever she's around

he would kneel down to talk to her‼️😩

always pushing her stroller or carrying her on his shoulders

don't ask me why but he'd get into play fights with her at the dinner table 😭 (especially when she's still learning to talk so she's speaking gibberish 😭)

he loves to take her baths and put fun toys in the tub

finds her extremely adorable in everything she wears

he'd give her his yellow dog plushie‼️😭 currently sobbing

I feel like he would try his best to let the baby's first word be "papa" 😭

when she's older he would start being more himself (so talk about things freely and make dirty jokes all the time)

he's not a regular dad, he's a cool dad! 😏 (please get the reference 😭)

he'd give her the talk 🫢🐝

he would pick her up in weird ways and make her laugh (like upside down etc lmfao 💀)

would let her do his hair but not his make-up

like I said in my uncle Tommy hc, i feel like he would love to play with the toy kitchen for some reason idk 💀

he's the overprotective girl dad FOR SURE (AND ITS THE HOTTEST AND CUTEST THING IN THE WHOLE UNIVERSE)

he'd go down the slide with her 😭

at lunch/dinner he would always sit next to her

looooves when she's at their concerts and would ask Bill to dedicate her a song (especially her favorite)

he'd definitely write her a song too

he would make her try to eat a lemon 😭🍋

it's important to him that she has a good bond with her uncle Bill and the boys too! (uncle Georg and uncle Gustav 🥹)

"Y/n she looks more like me than you, gotta be honest"

he would give her what he didn't have growing up (if you read Bill's book, like I have, you'll know)

he wouldn't let anybody hurt or say anything wrong about her

hype man fr

high-key a very chill and permissive dad

he would make sure she knows her worth and to always be herself, without listening to what others say

always saying that she's the better copy of him

since he had her young, people (maybe even teachers at parent teacher conferences) mistake him for her brother and it's needless to say that he's very flattered while his daughter is just like 😐

they have a great bond

LITTLE FUN FACT‼️ Tom said in his podcast that if he ever has a daughter then his dream is to name her Nala like in the lion king movie 🤭😭 crying rivers rn part 2

your daughter tags along on tours, especially because it's very important for Tom and she loves it (idk if I already said this but oh well lmfaoo)

I have a feeling almost all her friends have a crush on Tom (i know i would 😋)

Tom is such a basic dad istg, he does bbq every sunday

if y'all ever become parents a second time then he would definitely have a happier reaction than the first one, yet he would be scared to take care of two little creatures~

his fans always ask about her during meet and greets and give her little presents, which he appreciates a lot

your daughter is pretty much popular in the entire fanbase you guys have and is considered a "lucky charm" from the band

Tom would give her the longest and most comforting hugs known to mankind

he'd make her a memory book with Bill 😭

and he'd give her some old goodies of his!

like some of his old clothes, hats, glasses etc..

overall he's the best dad and UGHHFHSJENF I cry just thinking about him not having any biological children :(

i hope you enjoyed this !! 💕 (also i apologize for any spelling mistakes but your girl over here is too lazy to re-read 🤪 love y'aaaallll)

[b1rds3ye]

AASAABSJS I'm so glad your requests are openn!!!! I seriously love the way you write for the characters! I think your writing is so in character an ARHBAHHA 😍😍🤩🤩🥰🥰SO may i request how the 141 boys react when the see their s/o has made them in the sims? Like they see him and his s/o in their little sims family. Idk I thought it would be cute.

Love you! Don't rush and take care of yourself 💗💗💖💖💋

I'M SO SORRY THIS TOOK ME ALMOST TWO MONTHS ASDKFJASDKF MY BRAIN WAS NOT BRAINING WITH THIS PROMPT

Look, It’s Us!

How the 141 boys react to you making you, them and a potential family in the Sims (+ other little gaming shenanigans)

Characters: Captain John Price, Simon “Ghost” Riley, Johnny “Soap” MacTavish, Kyle “Gaz” Garrick

Genre: Pure Fluff

Word Count: 1.2k (~400 words each)

A/N: Gotta confess, I’ve never actually played the Sims before ACK-

Captain John Price

It’s not often, but Price will occasionally play the Sims when he truly has nothing else to do. He’s not particularly creative with it though, just lets the game randomly generate a character and then lives their life with the quirks they have. Still, good fun!

John figured you’d play the opposite to him, testing the limits of the game and torturing your Sims with that simultaneously wonderful and terrifying mind of yours - beyond the army John doesn’t have the creativity to turn Sims into experiments that violate human rights. So imagine his pleasant surprise when he notices you playing relaxedly with a whole family that looked like you and him, taking the greatest care in making sure everything goes well

“Having fun there, love?” he smiles, looking over your shoulder. When you zoom in on the little Price you made in the Sims and then comment how it’s not nearly as handsome as the real thing, he swears you’re single-handedly warming up this jaded heart of his

He could watch you all day as you tinker on the game, but he naturally acts as your anchor. He doesn’t care if this is just a Sims version of you, you are not hijacking that spaceship and blasting off to god knows where! Ultimately he can’t stop you but the conversations that have come out of your antics are very entertaining

John nods along as you animatedly talk about the little virtual family you made. Whether it’s the family itself or your choices in customising the home, he’s listening and he’s remembering. He might not have infinite money like when you’re playing with cheats but it’s in his nature to give you his all, and he won’t stop giving until he’s made an imitation of your dream on the screen

Simon “Ghost” Riley

He hasn’t touched the game, he’s not particularly interested but he’ll definitely be around you when you play. Simon will be doing his own thing, but upon hearing the signature background music of the Sims you’ll see the slightest bop of his head

It was one day, he walked past you, his eyes flickering on the screen while you zoomed up on a character with features suspiciously like his. He watches silently as you zoom out, and there’s a character that looks like you as well and- is that a kid?

“Looks nothin’ like us,” he says simply at the family. “Not my fault you don’t have an imagination,” you stick out your tongue. “I’ll install some mods for more customisation.” He was just cracking a joke but it’s endearing how seriously you take your virtual counterparts

Simon doesn’t just observe the family, he also observes the rest of what you’ve customised. Is that your dream house? Ah, it seems you like that style of furniture. Simon will keep that in mind the next time you have to go shopping, or will find small gifts for you with the same general aesthetic

Has the uncanny ability to speak simlish - or at least replicate the sounds. It sounds straight from the game, you have no idea how he picked it up or why. If you ask he says it’s because “you’re bloody addicted to playin’ that thing”. All you know is that if one of the Sims shouts out something Simon will actually grumble out a response under his breath

Your Sims family has become a little mental vision board for Simon. To keep fighting to return home, to slowly but surely clean up the mess that is his broken mind until he can guarantee a future with you that is equally as tranquil and colourful as the little pixels on your screen

Johnny “Soap” MacTavish

Johnny loves his action and exhilarating games, shooters, horror, you name it. As such, he doesn’t play Sims much but if he does, he’s treating his randomly generated sims as human lab rats

Roasts your character customisation to hell and back. Johnny’s gripping onto you, shaking you back and forth, dramatically whining about how his eyes aren’t that specific shade of blue, his mohawk isn’t that big and you’ve got his nose all wrong- what are you doing?!

He’ll complain but if you actually give him controls he’ll customise his own character to look noticeably worse. Just don’t ever give him access to this game because he’ll also make your character look nothing like you

That being said, Johnny gets really into the little family you’ve made. He’s actively discussing with you the furnishings that should be used in the house, if your virtual child should be a ghost hunter or a fortune teller, and if you need a bathroom break he’s ensuring no one sets the virtual house on fire

You better not tell Johnny that you’ve added pets into the virtual family because Johnny is already out the door to the nearest animal shelter. If there are things that these stupid little Sims have that is easy to get or Johnny already wanted, he will get

At the odd moment, you’ll catch Johnny getting quite sentimental over the game. Working in the army is chaotic, never mind his actual role as demolitions expert, it’s hard for him to ever imagine a day where he settles down. But watching you fret over whether this virtual couch should be placed on the left or right side of the living room has him looking forward to that day (by the way you should put the couch towards the back)

Kyle “Gaz” Garrick

Kyle has honestly tried every game under the sun if it’s casual and entertaining enough, from PVP shooters to laid-back simulators. If you’re not playing Sims, then he will be. But if you’ve beaten him to the punch he doesn’t make you stop, only sitting back and watching you keenly, commentating and giving you suggestions

He’s actually been part of the creative process since Day 1, when you made Sims versions of you and him, he tried to find the character customisation features that best resembles yours, but could only lament that he couldn’t make your Sim look as good looking as you

He loves starting off the game where your respective Sims are strangers, going through all the motions of wooing you all over again, proving to you that no matter the context Kyle will win your heart. You may have to comfort him with cuddles if your Sim version rejects his Sim’s advances though

Once your Sims are together, this little flirt will tell you that your Sims need more kids knowing full well what that implies

Kyle likes provoking you a little, discreetly suggesting using the ugliest pieces of furniture available in making your house. When you bite back that you’re going to make sure this house looks perfect, he’ll eventually relent after begging with his signature puppy-dog eyes

He’s memorised some of the Sim’s spoken dialogue, particularly the romance lines spoken in that exaggerated flirty tone. He’ll say it to you out of the blue sometimes, causing you to burst out into giggles

The game is all fun and, well, games, but it doesn’t stop Kyle from looking forward to the future. You might not have access to the grim reaper, you may never be able to build a pool surrounded with toilets in real life, but he’s excited to create his own little home and family with you, whatever it may look like

Call of Duty Masterlist

[rebeltigera]

Absolutely obsessed with V!Wukong and Blind!Macaque.

I have questions, overall comments and some hypothesized things. (Feel free to ignore or not answer all of them, but the ADHD has kicked in and I gotta splurge because YES)

OKAY! So;

You’ve mentioned in the past that B!Macaque is terrified of Wukong because of what was done to him, PTSD is a bitch. How would V!Wukong get around this to show that, to Mac, he’s not a threat?

* My first thought was, oh! He could start leaving his things around that smell like him so Macaque gets used to his smell, but that seemed more like training a dog, so probably not. But maybe?

Would V! Wukong try and steal Macaque some new eyes that work or an elixir that could heal his sight? Is it possible for his sight to even be healed at this point? Is that something Macaque would even want?

Once some time has passed and Macaque got more comfortable with this Wukong, would Macaque show his growing trust for V!Wukong by grooming his fur? Or allowing V!Wukong to groom him?

How would they show their growing intimately outside of… well, physical affection? Would they feed one another? Pick out clothes they know the other likes? Little things unique to them.

Would V!Wukong ever tell B!Macaque about his macaque? And if he did, how long would it take him to open up? Same scenario with Macaque, how long would it take him to open up?

I like to imagine that the word “Destiny” is a forbidden word for both of them. Neither of them like hearing it. Good way to get V!Wikong to start growling.

Your B!Macaque is so beautiful, he reminds me of a delicate crystal flower, I like to imagine V!Wukong is scared to touch him for a while because he’s afraid he’ll break him further.

V!Wukong violently protecting B!Macaque is something that just makes my heart happy for some reason, and B!Macaque gently cleaning up and healing him afterwards even though V!Wukong is the last person who’d ever need healing is such a tender vision in my mind.

Okay, I believe that’s the end of my rambling. I can’t think of anything else at the moment. I hope you have a wonderful day!

THE TISM HAS TISMED AAAA LOVE IT-

IDK why y'all decided that this ship is interesting after like - one art sksksmssm

But alr

... Oh boy the first one -

To be honest? I Don't know, maybe it would be his charm, the little things he'd do , or that he'd rescue Mac from falling into his own shadows. I didn't ever thought much about it

Mac wouldn't notice him at first . His heartbeat concealed, his power too. Wukong would indeed leave little things around but not in a "find my smell comforting way" . He would do that , move cluttery n dishes to more accessible places. Mac tend to leave them in the sun (to see them through shadows) but once the sun is gone they are gone from his view cuz they don't leave shadow anymore or are concealed by it.

Mac's eyes are not able to heal anymore. However Wukong would find a way to connect in a way their eyes. It wouldn't be permanent thing , just sometimes. See what I see kind of thing

Mac might not want but would need it. Because the last thing he saw was Wukong striking him . And it stuck like super glue.

Wukong might be the one to get a grooming session first. He'd be so confused and scared in a way . Like- he wouldn't expect that and sit obediently like a puppet till Mac would be done . Wukong wouldn't get to touch his fur tho.

Casual Physical affection would be everything to them . Because they both would be reluctant to it at the start .

Wukong wanting to touch but never doing so , Mac starved for it but never asking for it .

So their trust would be shown by it fully .

One thing that I can think of rn is that wuk would wake him up by gentle touches. He relies mostly on his hearing nowadays so it would be nice n comforting.

Whisper when he'd get a feeling Mac would get overwhelmed.

Outside of it , cooking , clothing etc etc - yeah it would happen

About telling him about his task- he wouldn't. Coming to that universe his memories become no more than flashes of the past. He doesn't even know what he searched so long for . He still get flashes of past Mihou and it brings him pang of pain but it'll pass.

For Mac to open up- months? Maybe years . Once he'd realize that V!Wuk is not a threat It would be easier. Wukong got nothing to hide from him so he'd be open like a book.

Mac speaking of destiny

Wukong growling it's bullshit, while hugging him closer

He'd get some pats.

The other moments he might growl more would be in safe heaven called nest, but it's story for a different acc sksksks

Wukong indeed would be scared to hurt him. Those bloodied hands are the one that destroy everything. He wouldn't dare to taint Mac with em. He would have moments when he'd think if he held him too strong he might crush him . Just like that.

The last thing might've happen , but wukong would rather want to keep to himself if he'd ever got hurt or dirty with blood . Mac is too pure.

[athenasdaydreams]

okay i should be studying for my bio final but i couldnt stop thinking of jj maybank asking kook!reader's parents for permission to marry you (still on s2 of outerbanks idk what happened after that....)

jj, at 23 years old, thinks its so archaic to ask your parents for permission to marry you. hes been thinking about it for months now. he would much rather pick you up and go over to a courthouse and get it done with. not a flashy type of guy. but, growing up rich, you had mentioned so many times about a dream wedding and who was he to deny his girl's wishes. youd mentioned it so many times, even going as far as sending him your wedding pinterest board after being inspired by sarah and john b's shotgun wedding (or rather in an effort to make sure jj didn't expect you guys to have a shotgun wedding).

sarah cameron wanted to be as much of a pogue as possible, while you were reluctant to give up your kook lifestyle of dior lipgloss and chanel handbags. that was exactly why after taking up a second job at the wreck, a loan from the bank, a third job cleaning some kook's boat, and another loan from the guy at the fishing store (he didnt know it yet but jj was sure he'd pay him back), jj stood outside your family's mansion with a gold band tucked in his back pocket, and some pictures of some houses he was looking at, ready on his phone. he felt like he'd been standing out there for hours. 'now or never, maybank,' he mumbled as he wiped his hands on his old faded blue jeans which had been paired with pope's white button up, knocking on the door.

the woman who opened up the door looked exactly like you, just about 40 years older. 'evening mrs l/n, i'm jj maybank, your granddaughter's boyfriend.'

after giving him a scrutinising once over, she said 'she's not here,' and attempted to close the door. jj made sure to tell her that he wanted to talk to your parents about something important, and she somewhat reluctantly let him in.

your mother was sitting on the couch, reading the latest edition of vogue (something he could picture you doing a few years in the future) while your father had presumably just gotten back from work, enjoying some expensive looking drink while talking to his wife about his day.

'mr and mrs l/n?'

both of them whipped their heads around and looked towards jj.

'jonathan?'

he was regretting ever telling you his full name, more so regretting letting you introduce him to your parents like that, during that one horrible dinner that ended with you and your mom crying and your dad and jj almost killing each other. as time passed, they stopped hating him so much, but some resentment remained.

'uh, jj is fine. listen, i gotta talk to you guys about something'

'you didn't get her pregnant did you?!' your father stood up, trying to intimidate him. what for, he didn't know.

'NO no i didn't! i promise!!' he said as he stood in front of them, reaching into his back pocket. 'I came here to ask for your permission to marry your daughter.' your mom looked like she was about to have a stroke and your dad was about to protest.

'listen, before you guys say anything, i want you to know that your daughter was the best thing to ever happen to me. i love her more than anything in the world and i would sacrifice everything, including my own life for her. i know you guys think i don't have the means to support her or give her the life she deserves and i agree. i'll never be able to give her the life she truly deserves but that doesn't mean i'll try. i've taken up 2 more jobs to buy her this ring and save up for a house- its really nice by the way, i have some photos-and i would take up all the jobs in the world just to give her the life she wants. so please, please let me marry your daughter,' jj said in what felt like one breath.

your father was shocked and your emotional mother was on the verge of tears.

"jj?"

at the sound of your voice, jj turned around to be met with your confused face. "i didn't know we had plans today... and why're you dressed like that?"

he turned to your father, who gave him the slightest nod, signalling him to approach you.

"i had a whole thing planned to do this, with dinner and candles 'n shit, but i feel like if i dont do this now im going to explode."

"jj, what do you mean? you're scaring me." you looked at him with concern, the poor boy looked like he was about to pass out.

he got onto one knee and held out the ring he had bought for you.

"from the moment I first saw you, I knew you were something special. you were unlike anyone else I’ve ever met. And now, standing here in front of you…I’m pretty damn sure that i wouldn't wanna spend my life with anyone but you."

your vision started blurring from the tears in your eyes.

"will you marry me?"

[winwintea]

nct vs haunted house (who you picking to go with you?)

pairing ↬ ot25 nct (127, dream, wayv, wish)

tags ↬ cussing, i roast everyone (sorry not sorry)

author’s note ↬ very lax and lazy shitpost. can y'all pretend like i posted this before november 1st to spare me the embarrassment and shame, thanks. also in no apparent order so you might have to dig for your member. this is the first time i've posted for all the members... also only seen the wayv and dream haunted house videos so it might not be fully accurate.

sakuya

nah why the hell would you pick him. this shit is gonna make a bolt for it and leave you alone inside to defend for yourself. if it's a haunted house walkthrough, he's gonna speedrun it and save himself, not you. if it's a horror escape room he's probably gonna get jumpscared, but will distract himself by laughing at you. NOT HELPFUL AT ALL, somehow manages to break everything. (0/10 partner, made me cry afterwards. this is why i hate children /j)

winwin

you've got like a 50/50 chance of surviving this thing. winwin's scared out of his wits when it comes to haunted houses, but in an actual stressful situation he thinks very logically. given the right circumstance, he doesn't make dumb choices, and can actually progress through the haunted house fairly easy. his only flaw is that when he gets jumpscared he has extreme reactions and always is on the floor. (6/10 partner, just make sure he isn't pulling you to the ground as well.)

haechan

no sane person would pick him, are you okay? i mean he's kinda unpredictable. either cackling and laughing his ass off or sobbing or straight faced the whole time. when he's scared he demands to be carried, like tf? thought you were supposed to protect me. whatever. actually kinda smart and helpful though like if you're lucky you two can get out just fine. (7/10 partner, because at least he isn't gonna leave you alone to die, you'll die together.)

doyoung

get ready for snarky comments on everything, "i wonder if these people are getting paid minimun wage." or "whoever designed this place needs to go to jail why is everything so ugly looking." he's a NERVOUS WRECK though. starts yapping when he's scared. telling the scare actors to "wait pls" (they won't love you like i love you) they don't listen to him though... very tense, movements are stiff, he has like a 25% chance of actually being helpful. (2.5/10 partner, someone tell him to move faster.)

jaehyun

you picked the nonchalant king himself! he'd probably be a bit scared, maybe a few jerks or flinches from the jumpscares, but nothing too bad. probably laughs at the actors or at the situation, but it's not a mocking laugh. very helpful and you'll definitely make it out of there alive! if you're easily scared no worries! he'll be fine carrying you if he has to. give yourself a pat on the back, you picked well. (10/10 partner i have no complaints)

jisung

someone save this poor baby and you because you two are also not making it out alive today. not very loud screams, but oh my god he clutches his chest and bucks his knees like he's heard the worst news of his life. 15,000 mental breakdowns in the span of a minute. asks random obvious questions and is curious about everything. he's too lost in his own head and thoughts to be really helpful, plus he's too scared to try anything so you really aren't progressing further unless you lock in. (2/10 partner, i love you ji but i gotta survive)

riku

honey idk who lied to you but riku is not brave at all. another stumbler, he's tripping all over the place, sometimes you wonder whether it's on purpose or not. no cause this man spends more time on the floor then actually on his feet. when he's collected himself and believes that there's no reason to be scaried he's gonna aegyo his ass off. which doesn't work lol. might as well use him as a meat shield atp. (3/10 partner, good meat shield /j)

yushi

also a 50/50. very very very helpful and knowledgeable when it comes to solving clues and mysteries. but when it comes to progressing forward and interacting with the scare actors he's not in his element. asks "who's there" as if anyone would answer. also in denial half of the time, "oh it's not that sc- AHJH SHHHH-" runs around and clings to something, probably your arm. (7/10 partner, just the two of us, we can make it if we try! )

hendery

i asked to survive not a distraction for my fears and worries. why is bro singing???? we're supposed to be working and solving the puzzles, no more distractions pls!! he's going to terrorize you just because it's funny, but i'm in a haunted house NOT A COMEDY CLUB. when it comes to solving clues he cooks dogshit!! nobody let him back into a haunted house thanks! (0/10 partner, i need the scare actor to mercy kill me atp)

chenle

why. you know better than to pick him. 100% will scream as loud as he can and sacrifice you in -119 seconds. laughing mess. he's like sakuya and will leave you to fend for yourself. he dngaf. will also terrorize you because it's "funny". unless it's a competition he will not help you at all and pretends like he's helping but he's not doing anything except goofing around. try again. (-143/100 partner, except he doesn't love you like in the skz song)

johnny

you make it out of there purely off of johnny’s dumbass luck. i’m serious. as soon as he’s jump-scared he puts his hands up and turns around like “helll naahhhh” and then he starts scolding the scare actor like he’s their dad ???? or something ?? why the fuck did this turn into a big ass therapy session about how the scare actor could turn their life around and use their talents for something more rewarding in life? (9/10 partner, you only make it out of there because the scare actor tearfully tells you the answers to all the clues and promises johnny he’ll work on bettering himself.)

kun

if you thought his leader mode self would activate you are wrong. completely wrong. first of all he TRIES to act calm and mature, but fails miserably. also he forces you to do everything, go first, because bro is ACTUALLY A COWARD ISTG. at least he's pretty decent at solving problems, but when he gets jump-scared he's too terrified to function, like if was by himself he would get himself killed. (-4/10 partner, i asked for a good partner not a manchild)

yuta

going with the other non-chalant king is also a fairly good choice! except he's even more unbothered and unfazed than jaehyun, you're wondering if you should be more scared of him than the actors. feel bad for the actors though like they get a kick out of scaring people and he's just like "heh. that's funny" not very helpful with puzzles though so you might have to do that yourself! (8/10 partner, you'll probably survive, but you'll do most of the work unfortunately.)

renjun

i think the only other person you could pick that's worse than him on this list is taeyong. CONSTANTLY CLINGING TO YOUR ARM. savagely trying to crack jokes but is scared out of his wits for sure. he's okay with solving clues, renjun is smart, just don't pressure or tease him or he might actually snap. honestly just don't pick renjun to be your partner. (-127/10 partner, why are we still here? just to suffer?)

taeyong

you are 100 percent getting killed today !! congratulations !! or maybe you wanted that? poor bubu was not cut out for this line of work okay. he screams the loudest screams you've ever heard, does not function normally after the first scare. you could've picked anyone else and maybe you would've had a 99.99% chance of dying instead of 100. (-553/10 partner, PICK BETTER PLEASE. i'm so fucking mad /hj)

ten

he's a runner he's a track star !! he's literally a cat. what else did you expect? him to not be a scaredy cat? when u call him out for being unhelpful or too scared he'll gaslight tf out of you. he'll also deflect and start saying everything you're doing wrong as if you aren't the ONLY PERSON DOING ANYTHING AT ALL?? “stop pushing me” EXCUSE ME? YOU PUSHED ME? makes me so mad, but at least he sometimes is helpful i guess. (-40/10 partner, you should know better than to pick him.)

sion

better than kun maybe on par with winwin i'd say. his leader mode is definitely more active here, also tries to play up and be brave, gets scared very easily but it's okay. he reacts quickly and that's honestly all that matters in a haunted house bc if you can get out of that inital shock and think logically about the situation you can survive about anything. very good with puzzles i don't think he's a bad option! (8/10 partner, jaehyun maybe enlisting in a couple of days but at least we have sion)

jeno

might be the one of the best options out of all of these clowns. but again nct is a circus and they are so unpredictable. i would feel safe with jeno though. he's suspiciously quiet, and not very reactive when it comes to the scares. very smart too like he solves the puzzles in seconds too. take jeno with you and you are LIVING TO SEE THE LIGHT AT THE END OF THE TUNNEL! (12/10 partner, very satisfied would recommend. )

xiaojun

you picking xiaojun is like whoever tf seulgi is singing to that knows 28 reasons to run away but chooses to depend on her anyways. LIKE CMON. xiaojun definitely scares himself. also he's really loud in general like you need something to shut him up with. bad at puzzles, okay with scares, idk if you're gonna survive broski. (2/10 partner, maybe xiaojun has dumb luck and you'll survive, who knows.)

ryo

way more mature than sakuya, i'm convinced you will actually survive! this little maltese is very brave and will definitely go first if you're too scared. also willing to throw hands but let's talk about that later you will make it out of there in decent time, and not struggle that much. may get a little bit scared, but he regains his courage very easily! (10/10 partner, guys i love ryo a lot. he's literally my child.)

jaemin

yes jaemin is a good pick, he’s not that phased by scare actors and will even try to talk to some of them about their day. spreads positivity but will probably mock you for being too scared if you get scared by the jump-scares. if you can deal with that you should be fine. he’s not as good as jeno is with the puzzles but can hold his own weight fairly well. “can we go again?” absolutely not. (8/10 partner, would’ve been higher but for that last comment he’s getting marked down a couple of points.)

jungwoo

just because this man isn’t vocal when he’s scared does not mean he isn’t shitting himself right now. instead of screaming, he opts to stumble and fall instead. any little noise will make him jump, even if it’s caused by himself. closes his eyes because “i can’t get scared if i can’t see them!” he was incorrect. jungwoo can in fact get scared if he can’t see them. (0/10 partner, no negatives for jungwoo but you probably won’t survive.)

mark

best option in my opinion. the only leader who calms down the fastest and reacts the best. i mean he deals with haechan and chenle on a daily basis so he has some practice. all his years of testing his patience has prepared him for this moment. deep inside he’s paranoid as hell, but that really doesn’t distract him from getting you two out of there as quickly as he can. extremely motivated and works hard to solve the puzzles. (17/10 partner, much better than his egg making abilities!)

jaehee

he thought it was going to be fun. it was not. “this was NOT a good idea. oh MY GOd-“ pointing to every little thing, “did you see that”. okay but his prediction game is kinda on point though. thanks to his paranoia he manages to predict all the jumpscares. so eventually you two come up with a plan to scare the actors themselves which actually works surprisingly, and lessens your worries about the whole thing. maybe it was fun after all. (8/10 partner, you got banned from coming back though)

yangyang

now most of y’all might think that yy will whine and scream and cry in a haunted house. and, you’re not wrong! but in terms of the pussy-ness scale against the rest of these clowns, yangyang is actually pretty good at this. he’ll flinch, react, scream, and run away, but he takes the lead. willingly to go first, even if he himself is shaking in his thousand dollar shoes the entire time. good at puzzles too! (7/10 partner, so good so bad like whatever zb1 said!)

perm taglist ↬ @lyvhie @aquaphoenixz @ldh0000 @galacticnct

[theoceansluvr]

Tim Drake x Cozy! Reader

warning; none ! author's notes; my favorite boy's birthday which means a work for him ! sorry for writing so many headcanons y'all, i have a lot to blabber about 😞 also idk if the title makes sense but i have was going for a very.. homebody, smells like coffee/hot chocolate, big sweaters coded reader if that makes any sense !

oh how he loves you...

he never gets a chance to relax because Gotham never rests

but with you it's so easy

he could come back from the worst fight in the world and be greeted with hazelnut creamer filled coffee and the sight of string lights everywhere

it might not be a lot, but it's everything to him.

reading dates are a very common thing !

you'll drag him to the local used bookstore any chance you get

it's usually followed up with a trip to the bakery or record shop too

super into crime books

(to nobody's surprise im sure)

he has a whole bookshelf dedicated to forensic books, even though he knows pretty much everything.

he likes to be sure, y'know ?

you guys have plants that are all names and their birthdays are on a calendar on the fridge

the oldest is named Robert ans he's a dragon's breath you two bought when you first moved in together

the name was merely based on you thinking it was funny to give a plant a people name..(me too)

steals your sweaters all the time and claims he doesn't know what happened to them

but you always catch him up in the middle of the night wearing them while he's doing his detective stuff

random but candle shopping is a MAJORRRRR part of y'all's budget planning..

i mean sure, overhead lighting can be nice, but candles just have a better feel !

which is exactly what you say to Tim every time

he groans and mumbles a soft "Whatever you want, rose.." and it's off to Bath and Body works or the local candle shop !

BAKING TOGETHER !!!!

i will give any excuse to talk about Tim and his baked goods, so you two bake together a ton !

not specifically from scratch, but it's usually better when it is.

"All that matters is it was made with love." is the common statement he uses when he burns something..

which is probably a common occurrence if im being completely honest

slow dancing to records might i add

not much to add about this, but something about him being a Wayne tells me he probably had to learn to slow dance for whatever reason

he'll gladly teach you if you don't know how :))

you guys are usually cuddled up drinking coffee/tea/hot chocolate(pick your preference loves !)

the Gotham rain adds to the ambience of it all

having someone as lad back as you are definitely helps with his whole "gotta prove my wort" mentality as well

if you ever got pets i think you'd have rabbits or maybe a ferret

not cats, don't ask me why i just have a weird headcanon about him being allergic.. so sorry to all my cat allergy havers

completely and utterly in love with the fact you're not out a lot because he likes knowing your safe at home !

playing stardew or animal crossing together to cool off ?

absolutely !

you have a shared island and farm bc he refuses to let you marry any of the characters(SAM I LOVE YOU !!!)

I COULD WRITE SOSOSOSOSOSO MUCH ABOUT HIM WITH A CALM, COZY PARTNER !!! but i want to get this done before the 20th so :((( but happy birthday again to my boyfriend in another universe 😞

[norman-fucking-reedus]

omg since your requests are open,,, idk but imagining a female reader fucking herself infront of Daryl while he is chained to chair drives me insane to think about.. like reader's feet are on his knees and daryl feels her every movement but dang he can't do anything and the reader is a bit dominant.. i'd love if you wrote smth like this. im obsessed with ur writing!!

Anon lets make out rn cause ive had this idea for a while ESPECIALLY based off this picture??? Like hello??

I changed it up a little since i got the hottest idea in the middle of writing so I hope it makes you kick your feet in the way the way I did while writing this 😽 (I SAW UR OTHER REQUEST TOO BABE YK I GOTCHU 🫶🏾)

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

“Dammit girl! Untie me” Daryl thrashed in the wobbly chair, growling from where it sat at the edge of the bed in front of you. You simply watched him struggle in the tight ropes, becoming redder by the second. “I like you tied up. Even more when you’re my personal chair” You ran a hand across his lap and winked.

Daryl grunted when you straddled him, hands pulling at their restraints. You could feel his bulge growing as you slowly ground your hips down, a strained groan coming from him. You cupped his chin and placed a few soft kisses on his lips, moving to his neck and back up to his lips, only pulling away from him. “Tha hell ya doin’ ta me?” Daryl watched as you opened the dresser drawer and tossed two objects on the bed, sitting down next to them.

You couldn’t hold back the wicked smile that fought onto your face as you stood up and removed each article of clothing, tauntingly slowly.

Daryl’s watched you, closely, breathing picking up as you slid your pants down, and moved to undo your bra. He watched as you teased the hem of your undies, sitting down in front of him again.

His cheeks heated up when you kicked a leg up, ankle resting on his shoulder as you spread yourself, running a finger down your slit through your panties. Daryl watched, hands fidgeting with rope as he became uncomfortably hard in his jeans. He wanted to touch you, feel all over your body and maybe inside.

You continued massaging yourself until the fabric was soaked, and Daryl’s breathing was the loudest thing in the room. His face was red and a thin layer of sweat was present on his whole body. Suddenly all his clothes didn’t fit right.

He could do nothing but watch as you pushed your underwear to the side, erotically spreading your pussy lips before reaching to grab one of the objects. It was a long, white vibrator you had “found” at the start, but really you just stole it from the sex shop when everything went to shit. It roared to life in your hands, and you leaned forward to press it onto Daryl’s bulge, soaking in the way he threw his head back and his body jerked.

You kept it there only for a minute, leaning back and bringing it down to your cunt, massaging between your folds and moaning when it reached your clit, holding it in place as you brought your fingers to your entrance, easily slipping in.

The scene was something out of a porno, and Daryl swore his mouth was beginning to water as he just watched you. The way he could feel the strong vibrations travel through your leg, the way he could see your fingers curling and scissoring open, he was starting to get desperately needy.

As you neared your orgasm, you pulled completely away from yourself, chest heaving as you came down, eyes meeting Daryl’s. His pupils had been blown so wide, you weren’t even sure there was color anymore. “Enjoying my show?” You whispered, pulling your leg off his shoulder as you moved to stand over him, bending over the bed so that he had a clear view of your backside. “J’st let me touch ya, doll. Why ya gotta torture me?” He rasped, eyes roaming as he took in the sight of your ass right in front of his face, so close yet so far.

Daryl was impossibly hard in his pants, the scratchy fabric sending lightning through his body whenever he accidentally bumped his tip against it. He was so needy it was starting to hurt, even more when the clear dildo you were bringing to your folds came into view.

You rubbed the silicone up and down against yourself, grinding when you brought it to your clit. You could feel Daryl’s eyes on you as his hands tugged and pulled at the binding ropes, but he had taught you how to tie some real good knots. He could do nothing but pitifully whine as he watched the dildo slowly slide into you, the clearness giving him a whole different show.

He could see the way your pussy stretched around the toy, working it in and out slowly, soft moans coming from you as you did. His cock throbbed as his eyes never left your cunt, wishing that instead of that dildo you would use him like a dildo, riding his sensitive cock for as long as you wanted, fuck he just badly wants to be inside of you.

As if reading his mind, you flipped yourself around so that you could face him, pulling the dildo out as you looked at him, eyes drinking up the messy state he was in. His face was so red, sweat rolling down his forehead as you could tell he was just so hard in his pants. Daryl’s fidgety hands had started to rub his wrists raw against the rope, the pain only adding to his boner. He looked a pure fucking mess. You swelled with pride at that.

Your hands began undoing his pants, pulling them only half down to his knees. For a split second, Daryl thought you were finally going to touch him, even if all you did was grab him through his underwear he just needed to be touched. Instead, he watched as you added some spit to the bottom of your didlo, and suctioned it right onto his muscled thigh, giggling to yourself like a psycho as you straddled it, purposely grinding your dripping cunt on his leg as his wide eyes stared into yours.

You cupped his sweaty face in your hands, wiping it as you just held his face and stared beyond his eyes and down into his soul. He could feel you sink down onto the toy, and watched as your gaze darkened and your eyelids lowered. “You’ve been such a good boy for me Dar. Watching and staying mostly silently. Can you be even better for me and cum without me having to touch your cock?” He desperately shook his head no, traitorous tears pricked his eyes as your pace increased. “Can’t- Need ya- Need ya ta touch m’cock, please mommy I need it so bad” He babbled and you cooed, giving him a warm kiss that he completely melted into.

He always begged so sweetly, and it went straight to your full cunt, however, you had to force yourself not to give in, not when you had already got this far, Your hands moved to grip his shoulders, lifting yourself up and down at a rough velocity, the sound of your ass slapping down on his thigh filled the room and Daryl’s head, his eyes flickered between your face and the way you rode his thigh.

You reached behind you and patted around until you found the vibrator, bringing it to life and pressing it against your clit, the one hand you had still on your boyfriend’s shoulder curled into the flesh, lewd moans pulling from your chest. Daryl felt himself getting dizzy watching you, hair sticking to his forehead and cold pain shooting from his raw wrists. It was so hot, too hot. His vision was beginning to blur, heart pounding so hard he felt like it would come out his chest. His body trembled and he threw his head back when you very lightly pressed the vibrator to his clothed cock, adding fuel to his orgasm as it pumped through his entire fucking soul, tears finally rolling down his cheeks as his cock pulsed itself empty, soaking erotically through the fabric. The toy turned off, and you slowed your hips, watching the way Daryl’s body went limp.

“Very good boy. That’s exactly what I wanted to see, handsome” Your voice was like candy as you whispered in his ear, sighing as you lifted yourself off the dildo with a wet pop, moving to cut Daryl’s hands free as you fully straddled his lap, feeling his release on your puffy pussy. His shaky hands immediately went to your hips, waist, thighs, holy hell your skin felt so good. His poor wrists were red and raw, a small amount of blood forming. “We’re gonna wrap your wrists up. Think your little friend will wanna join us?” You whispered against his lips, pressed down on his soft cock, feeling the cooling cum ooze out from underneath, sticking to your cunt. “If yer talkin’ about m’cock hell yea. Get tha’ fuckin’ dildo off me” He grunted and you realized his legs were also still bound together. You giggled, popping the suction cup off his thigh and stretching to cut the ropes off his ankles.

You moved off his lap so he could finally stand and stretch, kicking his pants completely off and his soiled underwear, which revealed how his cock was dripping in his own release. You were almost on him immediately, falling down onto your knees in front of him. “Your wrists are gonna have to wait a minute”

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

I need to fuck his fucking soul into my body NOW 😾

｡･:*:･ﾟ★｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★

[little-miss-dilf-lover]

hii wifey!!! okay it's currently super late where i am right now and i can't sleep 😭 but ever since my post on @dirty-little-mind33 i- i haven't been able to stop thinking of dbf!tangerine 😫

like like JDJSJDDJHFFJ

it's giving your dad's hired hitman and they're friends or whatever (don't ask for the specifics, I'm half asleep) and he takes a liking to you and he treats you like a princess FR

keeps you in check so you stay out of trouble, little touches, "love", "princess", "sweetness", "SWEET GIRL" ANRJRNENDN like it's giving the same vibes as bodyguard!tan.

can just imagine him sitting in an armchair of your living room, legs spread bc he's a man and it's sometimes super hot (don't sue me), and he asks you for a lighter and so you hand him one and he blows smoke in your face as he thanks you and calls you his good girl 🥵

okay sorryyyyyyyyyy this is so long i just needed to share and hear your thoughts 🫶

on another note, dbf!logan is also sooo hot but that's for another ask 💖

my wife!! hi wifey! so this will be like im talking to you directly, like im typing everything my brain is thinking in real time. it makes it personal and intimate, I love it. enjoy 💞💞💞💞(also sorry only just got round to this)

no bc you’re so onto something EURRRGGHHHH!!!!

and like okay right so! he’s been working for your dad for a few years and bc it’s only been a few years he’s not known you long (meaning he didn’t see you grow up etc bc that’ll be😃🤮) and like when you visit ur parents or idk you live with them (pick what you fancy) you see him at the dining table with your dad and got all the papers out and laptops etc and they’re chatting about work stuff/ plan

idea time. you go past them and into the kitchen and your dad is none the wiser looking at the papers and maybe questioning the prices but tans looking at you in the kitchen. and tans like “do us a couple teas would ya darling” (ew tan, why would you say that? have you no respect? no shame?) and he’s being all cheeky bc of the darling. but your dad doesn’t think anything of it, like it’s a common petname kinda thing. and it makes your ears prick and turn to look at him and he’s all smug????? and nodding at you????

this is really getting away from me but im not done, you’ve got me going 😭😭😭

tan definitely tests the waters, pushes the boat out LOADS. like he’s so teasing and cheeky in how he does it. def touches your back when ur dads in the same room, looks at you during dinners, sits opposite you during said dinners and touches you with his foot (but not in an gross way bc feet are disgusting) or sits beside you during said dinners and spreads his legs so his thigh bumps yours AND AHHAAHHAGAHA OMG THIS IS KILLING ME has his elbows wide on the table so he takes up more space and feels your arm up with his

and if you’re in the garden after dinner getting some air bc of what happened at the table. he’d come out and join you. but not properly. you might be at the end of the garden sitting at the patio table or something and he’s on the steps by the back door having a fag. like he’s keeping an eye on you but not making it obvious for your family inside

he’s also always offering lifts! so like if you don’t have a car or it’s in the shop or idk blah blah you ask your dad for a lift and tans there and he offers to drive you. and you’re like “no it’s fine” bc sitting in a car with him will make you like idk but like yk GO CRAZY. and tans all like “it’s no fuss. gotta pick something up that way anyway” and your dad is still oblivious so he’s agreeing to it like “tan’ll take you” and tan grabs his keys and he’s nodding you along like (okay don’t hate me for this. I don’t have a daddy kink but this idea is sending me and I need to say it) he’s all like “what daddy said goes” 😫😃😫😀🫠👍😉😔😖😱😰🫣🤭🤔AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAASAAAAAHHHH!!! and it has a double meaning!!!!!!!!!!!! bc he means your dad but also him!!!!!!! and the ‘take you’ bit!!!!! he also means that he’ll take you. like fuck you. so it’s all a huge double entendre

GOD THIS IS KILLING ME!!!!!!!!! making me wanna do something with dbf tan now

but he’s such a gentleman about it. like he’s teasing and smug and cocky but he’s still very charming and charismatic about it!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

and when he drops you off he’s looking at your ass getting out and then opens the window to talk to you through the car and he’s like “call me if you need me”

and you’re like “why would I call you?” like shouldn’t he be saying to call your dad????

and he’s all like “you know why”

and you’re like “huh?” looking at him all weird

AND YHEN HE SAYS “he don’t pay attention to you like I do” GOOD DUCKING GOD SJJABSJDBS

im gonna have to stop there bc I know I never will. plus I have rice cooking and the timer went off 5 mins ago so I really gotta run😭😭😭😭

but you’re so right about him being the same as bodyguard tangerine!!!

[cookiepie111]

Bite me. Love me

König x black reader

Part 2

A/N-He's weird a walking red flag but the red flags are hazy almost like they're not there? Like a marage. His red flags are something you quite can't put a finger on at first until you realise it's everything it's the sum of all he's doing. A good boyfriend but a bit strange Idk he's sort of a you gotta get uncomfortable before you get comfortable

For me könig a bit of a strange man a man. He kinda understands social cues, but sometimes gets them a bit wrong. he slightly pushes your boutons and boundaries to see what he can get away with and how he can squeeze you

It's kinda like he has you in his teeth but he's not actually biting down, just grinding and rolling you in-between his teeth, he likes it and you're 'safe' that way, he wouldn't actually hurt you

Listen, sorry for all that yapping, but you needed to hear it. Anyway, a longer/second part to könig failed flirting attempt.Please like, reblog, and comment. Not proofread

Tag list: @thatmusedhatter @himboelover @canyonswft13 @montenegroisr @kneelingshadowsalome @havikshoochiemama @wordstome @lanalafey

You lost a bag that's cool, that's fine, although wouldn't call it lost, stolen more like given? Bag was practically thrown it into the robbers' hands. self-preservation above all else.

You couldn't focus on a single thing. Thoughts and worries tangle in your head as you recall the past events in your kitchen. You survive all that time back home, not getting robbed, only for your black ass to be robbed in a cafe in Austria!

'Come to Austria they said it'll be fun they said!'

ID, cards, money, everything in that bag gone. Thrown to the hands of a strange man. Why you. You'd have to go to the police, file a report, call the bank, and freeze your cards. "Aghhh!" All you could do was drop the floor and cry.

Surprisingly, this wasn't the worst pick-up fail könig had, so he can at least find comfort in that. can't get any lower than rock bottom...

The purse in his hands looked comical small, maybe its him, his hands that are making it look so small. you couldn't keep all your things in here? maybe it's a trend for women to carry purses the size of apples, putting fashion over function. Not something that könig would do.

Those who saw the whole ordeal go down, now eye him with suspicion, wondering what his next move will be, gripping their own items closer. He can only laugh to himself if he wanted he'd have no problem taking their stuff away. But it's better to leave so he can find you.

Walking out, he takes the time to look through your bag. cards, ID, cash, so manu important things, and you just handed them over to him. Playing with the ID card in his hands, mulling over your features. you had such a pretty name, such a serious face you were making in your photo too, not at all like the frightened look you had before.

It's more than enough to track you down he still didn't get the chance to ask you out. He couldn't bring it back empty-handed. Maybe a new purse would do.

‿︵‿︵ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ・❉・ ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ‿︵‿︵

The kitchen floor provides a surprising amount of comfort in these moments. 5 panic attacks down, and you're only down starting to cry. The knock on the door is either about to be a blessing or curse. Maybe the police finally came, or a good samartain got your purse back.

There wouldn't be any blessing today. The other side of the door only showed your assailant. If the panic attacks weren't enough to send you over the edge, spiralling, seeing this man at your door certainly was. taking your purse wasn't enough, like some sick grim reaper he's come for your life.

Playing dead is an option, right? You'd have to be stupid to think you could outrun this man. Yeah, laying down for a quick kill would be best-

" I brought you a gift, to apologise"

A gift?

You kept your eyes on bag half because you couldn't believe him and also you were too scared to look him in the eyes.

"It seems I scared you back at the cafe, I only wanted to ask you out" he holds out a bag in front of you.

Ha. It was a mistake. A simple misunderstanding. You'd spent the better half of today crying on the floor because of some big man's poor flirting skills. You wanted to cry again.

Might as well take the bag. What's one more mistake or bad choice today. All your items are there, and you suddenly feel relife, tears welling in eyes as your knees buckle. Your purse, cards, sweets, the second half of the book you're reading? Wait, some of this isn't yours.... was he using your bag to hold his stuff?? You stare back at him, waiting for an answer.

" they're yours a gift to apologize"

"Oh"

Maybe it's all in your head. You're just on edge in a new place. You feel like you can finally relax. The tension knotted in your shoulders slowly unravels. You feel silly and like a wet dog

" I'm sorry about that. Thank you for bringing it back,"

"A date"

What. You see him now only closer than before threatening to enter the boundaries of your home.

" Let me take you out for a drink to apologise." It's such an intense stare he has, focused souly on you. It makes you uncomfortable, stepping back slightly to put some space between you, a bad idea, as he matched your pace stepping forward, foot now fully in your house. You started in disbelief. There's no way this man just stepped in your house, muddy shoes and all. For the last time today, you look back at him, annoyed. An surprise for könig but not an unwelcome one.

"I don't drink"

"coffee"

"No"

"Tea"

"Hmm "

he squints and pauses at that answer

'"a cafe"

"Leave please"

"I'll pick you up on Thursday"

He's barley out the door before you shut it on him, locking the door and pulling the chain

she didn't say no right away. That means he still got a chance.

‿︵‿︵ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ・❉・ ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ‿︵‿︵

It's Thursday afternoon and once again you're sat in the kitchen panicking as your feet tap along with the rhythm of the clock.

The whole morning was spent worrying out your mind. It's a miracle your heart hasn't given out yet. Maybe he was just messing you, and now you've spent the whole morning worrying for nothing. more time passed, and your worry turned to annoyance. You did your whole makeup for this, and he didn't show.

You jump up at the sound of the door, rushing to open it. You pause. Taking a moment to collect yourself before before opening the door.

He looks better than before, still donning that scary balaclava, but in more casual clothes and flowers in hand. He's too forward with his actions, pushing the bouquet in your hands before he even spoke.

It's awkward. He doesn't say much(because that worked so well the first time), and neither do you. This silent walk is too painful to bear.

At least you can say he's a gentleman (sort of). The date was paid in full, and he got a gift. You've learned a few things about könig now. His jokes are cheesy, but they did make you laugh. He resides in an upscale apartment that's too big for him (his words)outside of the city centre. Currently on break from the army (a potential red flag that'll lingered in your thoughts), he's got a big appetite and love for strong drinks.

This afternoon hadn't been all that unpleasant. You quite like the man, you find some strange comfort and safety in him. It's even nice when he pulls you close to him, resting a hand on your hip.

"Haha, are you happy to see me, or is that a knife in your pocket?"

"Knife."

"Hah-" and He pulled out a blade.

...

Oh. Now we're back to weird again.

Why couldn't he just be normal!? It's too casual the tricks he's doing with the knife. How were you supposed to pretend this was normal

You try your best to smile, to not turn and flee scream but your lips tremble. You're really wishing he did have a boner instead. You're not sure what to say or what annoys you more how casual he is, not a single worry on his face.

This is exactly why you shouldn't go out with strange men who randomly appear at your doorstep. At the very least, he's a strong contender for the "Most Heart Attacks Caused by a Man" award.

König wasn't stupid he could sense your worry as you tried to hide behind a lopsided smile. Watching your eyes shift between him and blade, waiting for his next move. You're cute. He'll have fun messing with you.

‿︵‿︵ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ・❉・ ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ‿︵‿︵

You couldn't be happier to be home. You survived! You'd never have to see that nasty man again!

*beep*

It doesn't matter how long you stare at your phone in confusion and annoyance. The message on your phone is clear

......

Where did this man even get your number!? He's known for a 2 whole day's, there's no chance he knows anyone close to you.

You're never going to be free of this man