#but the bad is that i think it's made me a person who's glued to my laptop and is best at creating parasocial relationships

[space-cowgirllll]

Merry Christmas, Please Don't Call

saw someone asking where the angst was and what is a sad girl like me to do but deliver.

It's late. Far too late for the phone to be ringing. 

You lie on the couch still fully dressed in an itchy sweater, plaid skirt twisted uncomfortably, and an annoying run in your tights. The pins holding your hair up feel like they're ripping strands out with every shift of your head against the throw pillow. A headache has begun to form behind your eyes and you regret being so heavy handed while making that last cocktail.

The room around you is in disarray. Empty bottles litter every flat surface in the space, half drunk glasses line the kitchen counter, and crumbled wrapping paper is strewn about the floor. Soft music plays from the stereo in the corner, your favorite Christmas CD skips a little before the  song resumes. 

You breathe a sigh a relief when the shrill noise finally stops, the person hanging up before they got your answering machine. 

It doesn't take a genius to figure out who's calling. 

Laughter bleeds through the thin walls you share with your neighbors and loud footsteps sound from the unit above yours. Music you don't normally mind worsens the intense pressure building in your skull. Your eyes screw shut, regretting not taking up your friends on their offer to spend the night at their place. It hadn't occurred to you just how hard the memories would hit finding yourself alone in the same place you'd watched your life fall apart.

Maybe it was time to look into new apartments.

Hards to believe that just last year you'd hosted friends for the first time in your new place for Christmas dinner. Running back and forth the entire night, ever the perfect hostess, making sure everyone had enough to eat and their glasses stayed full. Shooing your girlfriend away whenever she tried to help. 

It wasn't until the gift exchange at the end of the night that she pulled you into the empty spot next to her. Both of you content to watch as your friends ripped into the presents underneath the tree. Drunk and wanting nothing more than the comfort your girlfriend provided, you moved closer, cheek nuzzling into the soft material of her sweater.

You were used to the way she tensed up any time you got too close in front of other people, but it didn't make it hurt any less. There was nothing subtle about the way she pulled away, scooting further down the couch. Your teeth dug harshly into the inside of your cheek, piercing the delicate skin. The side eye she'd given you left you speechless. You fought tears all the way to the guest bathroom.

And at the end of the night, after everyone had left, the two of you sat on the couch. Neither of you made a move to start cleaning up. Abby sat at the end of the couch, her thumbs pushing into the soles of your feet, the heeled boots you'd worn tossed atop a pile of empty gift boxes. You hadn't spoken a word to her, eyes glued to the twinkling lights of your Christmas tree. The tension had quickly become too much for her to handle.

"You're mad at me." She sighed. 

"I'm not." You kicked her hands away and rolled off the couch.

"You are. I didn't mean to move away like that." Abby scoffed, crossing her arms across her chest. "And you didn't have to be so dramatic about it."

"No, you did." She watched you angrily toss things into a trash bag. Tears clouded your vision. "God forbid our closest friends think we're too close to be just roommates."

She paced the small space. "Carly works with my mom. She saw the whole thing, what if she says something? You know how she is!"

"Would that be so bad Abigail?" You kicked an empty box out of the way. Your voice small. "That people knew - that your parents knew their adult daughter is dating a woman?" 

"Yes! Just drop it!" You watched in shock as she moved to grab her jacket. "This isn't worth losing my family over."

She'd rushed out of the apartment after that. The rest of her things gone before the New Year.

The phone rings again.

Your aching muscles groan in protest as you clumsily crawl over the worn couch cushions. A trembling had reaches for the phone. For a second you wonder if it's better to just let it keep ringing. It wasn't often that you answered these calls. You bring the receiver up to your ear, lips pulling down in a frown at Abby's loud voice. She shouts into the phone, slurring your name over the loud music and laughter. 

The heavy oak table shakes with the force of you slamming the receiver back into its cradle disconnecting the call. You chuckle humorlessly into the dimly lit room. Of course she was out partying while you were still stuck digging yourself out of the mess Abigail Anderson had made of your life. The loneliness all consuming. 

Though looking back on it now, you'd been alone even when you had the blonde warming your bed every night. You'd spent three long years waiting for Abby. Accepting that your relationship would only exist within the walls of your apartment. 

And when it was over, no one was the wiser. A mutual friend mentioned she'd moved back in with her parents and was dating the son of one of her father's colleagues. Told everyone she wanted a shorter commute to the hospital. 

None of your friends knew that the girl sitting across the table from you in the bar had ripped your heart out. The two of you making awkward small talk on the odd chance either of you were dragged into conversation. Abby pretending not to notice the silent rage in your eyes anytime you caught her staring. 

You let out a frustrated groan when the phone rings for the third time. Angry tears run down your face listening to your voice on the prerecorded outgoing message, and then the loud sniffling that follows the tone. 

"I know you're home." Her voice is thick with tears. "Answer the phone again. Please."

One after the other, half assed apologies flow from her mouth. There's drunken threats of showing up at your door. The regret heavy in her voice as she wishes things had been different. It was the same as every other time she's called. You had an answering machine full of them to prove it. 

Abby hears the unmistakable click of the phone and then a quiet shuffling indicating you picked up and the cellphone almost slips from her hands. Words fail Abby as she stands on the sidewalk across from the only place that had ever felt like home. A shadow moving in the window catches her eye.

"Hi." Her lips part, an apology on the tip of her tongue when your gravelly voice fills the silence.

"Stop calling." 

Without even thinking, you rip the cord from the wall, effectively silencing her protests. Wiping at your dampened cheeks, you move towards the bedroom. 

You had come to realize that Abby deserved time to come to terms with who she was without any added pressure, but you deserved things too. You deserved more than hands dropped when you accidentally reached for hers in public. More than having no choice but to sit back and watch men flirt with her and having to bite your tongue time and time again when introduced you as just her roommate. It was time to move on.

Maybe this time you'll finally change your number.

[secretmellowblog]

People who try to analyze what happened on Tumblr on November 5th, 2020, often really overstate how much it was actually “about” Supernatural. As someone who has never been in the supernatural fandom ever but dID join in on the hysterical destielposting—it was really more about the stress of the pandemic and the 2020 presidential election.

The two biggest Youtubers I’ve seen try to dissect “what happened that November 5th” in video essays both weren’t American—- and I think that explains why they both tried to explain the hysteria primarily via analyzing the Supernatural fandom/the original show, rather than through the lens of the election. And while those videos are cool, valid, informational, and make lots of really well-considered interesting points— I can tell you that me and almost all my mutuals had literally no knowledge or interest in the fact that “oh supernatural had made nods at the ship in the past but the creators were adamant that I wouldn’t be canon” or etc etc etc etc. the first time I learned about any of that context was way later, watching videos where people claimed that fandom history context (that I did not know anything about) was the actual reason for the hysteria.

But the reality is that people latched on to the Destiel stuff because it was a piece of big useless inane zero-stakes fandom news in a time when we were desperately waiting for serious high stakes election news. We were latching onto a “positive “ piece of inane stupid fandom news in a time of great stress, with all the desperation of a drowning man who latches onto whatever piece of wood will keep him afloat.

The core of the hysteria was that Americans (who make up a huge chunk of tumblr’s userbase) were currently glued to their laptops watching the live presidential election vote counts come in. These vote counts were taking an extended amount of time due to the pandemic causing high numbers of mail-in ballots, resulting in a constant state of Election Day Stress for multiple days straight.

This was also during the height of the Pandemic. People had predicted Trump’s presidency would be bad; no one had predicted it would be this apocalyptically bad. No one had predicted pandemics and lockdowns and hospitals overflowing with bodybags. remember Trump spreading Covid lies and conspiracies?? There were so many Qanon conspiracies about democrats being Satanic child traffickers who had to be put to death, and coup threats were mounting from the right wing side. It seemed like this election was a choice between ‘centrist democrat’ and “apocalyptic right wing conspiracy theory authoritarianism,” in the midst of pandemic conditions that people feared would never ever improve— and it seemed like a close election.

Another major point was that Trump voters were more likely to be antimaskers/Covid deniers, while Biden voters were more likely to take the pandemic seriously— so Biden voters were more likely to send in mail-in ballots instead of risking the in-person voting crowds, which meant their ballots would take much longer to count. And so, in many state electoral vote counts, it would initially seem like Trump was very far in the lead— only for Biden to slooooowly build up an agonizingly small lead as the mail in ballots came in, and then defeat Trump at the very end.

So you’re just watching these news sites giving live election updates, refreshing the page every 2 minutes to see if you’re going to live under a spineless centrist democrat or a literal Qanon Dictatorship. And then you go on tumblr to distract yourself, and there’s more election posting, and more agonizing over the votes, and more stress and despair—-

And then it’s been days and we’re right at the crucial tipping point where it’s anyone’s game and the next few hours will determine whether Trump will win, so you need to keep your eye on the vote count, because the next hours will determine the future of the pandemic and your country and your plans for your entire life—

And then stupid Destiel becomes canon! And it becomes canon in the silliest way possible!

If Destiel had become canon at any other time, it would have been a big goofy tumblr celebration? But we wouldn’t have gotten the insane explosion of hysterical interaction.

The entire core of it was the contrast between the inane meaningless stupidity of fandom news vs the actual stressful election news you wanted to hear! It really is best conveyed in that meme where Castiel says “I love you” and Dean indifferently responds with a piece of important election news.

It’s about the contrast between the low-stakes inanity of fandom and the massive life-destroying stakes of a terrifying election. There really was no reason it had be Supernatural specifically, except that Supernatural was a thing everyone knew basic things about from dashboard osmosis— it could’ve been any other equally huge silly fandom ship news about a ship everyone *knew of* but might not necessarily be invested in (ex. Stucky becoming canon, Johnlock becoming canon, Kirk/Spock becoming more canon somehow, etc etc etc.)

I think it’s true that people who weren’t paying agonizingly close attention to the American election news got swept up in it, and that non American Supernatural fans also were extremely excited for purely fandom reasons — but the entire reason it blew up to an unprecedented degree was because of that core of stressed out terrified Americans glued to their computers watching election results and suddenly receiving stupid fandom news instead, and deciding to just hysterically parodically hyper-celebrate this absurd useless zero-stakes news.

I think it was also all elevated by the fact that, as I said before, this happened at the crucial “tipping point” of the election where the next few hours would determine the winner. The fact that Biden began to slowly develop a lead in the hours after made it feel, hysterically, as if the hours after Destiel became canon was somehow the turning point where he began to win; so celebrating Destiel felt like celebrating that slow turn towards victory.

The tl,dr is that it’s so important to Remember the Fifth of November …..in preparation the inevitable hysteria that will happen in the presidential election on November 5th of next year. XD. Personally I’m rooting for Johnlock or Frodo/Sam to somehow become canon in the eleventh hour right before the democrats win

[potatoplace]

the 1

Elriel, Azriel x Archeron!Reader

Alternate Endings: Gone | betty | The Prophecy

mini-series masterlist | ACOTAR x reader masterlist

Story Summary: All you had ever wanted to be was plain. And now, as a plain-faced High Fae, you want more. You want your mate.

Warnings: mentions of self-harm, self-loathing, suicide

Words: ~2.6k

Author's Note: I'm sorry. (I told you guys I've been having a rough week...) Apparently my brain is saying 'fuck Kinktober!' Even tho like. I WANT to write those... smut just doesn't feel in the cards for me today 😩 so have some tasty tasty angst instead. (I'm also watching an Eras Tour live so I'm hella cheered up now lol)

18+ only pls

🤍💙🩷💙🤍

Self loathing grew in your gut as you watched your family around you.

All of them were happy, reveling in the togetherness that they shared.

And your mate- your mate- was ignoring you. He was speaking to one of your sisters, absolutely enamored with her. And you couldn’t blame him.

Elain had always been the pretty one of the four of you, a shining diamond even in the filth of poverty.

Nesta was the one with regal beauty, her sharp eyes and the way she carried herself not letting anyone think otherwise.

Your twin, Feyre, was stunning, even if she herself had never seen it, the cleverness in her eyes and quiet grace drawing people’s gaze to her.

And then there was you.

You were… the ugly one. Your mother had said so, even though you were only a child when she passed. Your father had quietly agreed with her. Nesta had mocked your looks when she had had a bad day, which was nearly every day while you had been living in the run down hut after your family lost their fortune. Elain said nothing, but shot pitying looks at you when no suitor asked for a dance while you had still been human, even when it had been a ball thrown in your honor for your birthday. Feyre has been the kindest to you, reminding you that it’s what on the inside that counts…

But that didn’t appear to be so.

Even with a mating bond that you knew should draw Azriel’s attention, his eyes were still glued to Elain. He seemed to be able to breathe only when in her presence, taking in the same air as her.

And in your presence? He couldn’t seem to get away fast enough.

Being dumped into the Cauldron had made both of your sisters even prettier, and Feyre was no exception either after being turned High Fae.

For you, it had made you plain. No longer ugly, unless you counted the still crooked teeth and too small nose and thin mouth.

Just plain.

As a human, you had begged to whatever higher power there was that you could just be plain.

But now that you were, you knew it would never be enough.

Because while Feyre was right, your personality mattered more in a long term relationship than your looks, being pretty drew people in.

Being plain only made you fade into the background.

Azriel laughed at something Elain had said, the sound sending warmth through your body.

It should be you making him laugh, not Elain.

Elain, with her beauty and poise and perfect personality and her ridiculously handsome mate who wanted nothing but her time.

Elain, who seemed to want no one and no thing but your mate.

Your Azriel.

You tore your gaze away from the couple, who you already knew were in a relationship. Elain had confessed it to you a month ago, gushing about how their fifth date had gone and how she thought he was the one. She had told you first, knowing that you wouldn’t tell anyone.

After all, who would you tell?

It’s not like you had any friends in Velaris- or in the human lands, for that matter- and your other two sisters were so preoccupied with their mates and growing personal circles that they hardly had the time to look at you, let alone talk to you.

No. You were alone. You were a lockbox for all of her secrets.

Including that she was planning to officially reject the mating bond once Azriel offered a proposal of marriage.

That had made you sick to your stomach, but you had hidden it deep, deep down in your heart as you congratulated her and faked happiness, asking her when she thought he would propose.

“Any day now, I suspect. Azriel told me that he was planning for the future, and wanted to know if I would like to be a part of it,” she had sighed dreamily. “We just need to tell the family, I know that… Rhys was worried about what us being together would mean for court relations. But he’s just being dramatic, don’t you think?” Her chocolate eyes landed on you, so filled with hope that you couldn’t tell her that he was your mate.

“Yes, he’s just worried, ‘Lain. I’m sure everything will be fine,” you managed to say, and relatively normal at that.

That was last night, and while your eyes had drifted to the carpeting, they shot back upwards at the sound of clinking metal on glass.

Your mate, standing with a flute of sparkling wine in his hand and a knife in his other, had his arm locked with Elain’s.

He cleared his throat once he had everyone’s attention, his eyes passing over everyone-

But you. His eyes skipped over you, even now, with the bond flaring in your chest.

“Elain and I have something to announce, though Rhys already knows what it is.” You heard a hand slap against an arm, Rhys’s faked moan of pain, and Nesta scolding her mate. Azriel smiled at their antics, such a rarity on his face that your heart skipped several beats, leaving you lightheaded.

It most certainly wasn’t because of what they were announcing.

“Elain and I have been dating for the past two months, and we would like to make it official with you all now. In fact, the two of us will be moving into a cottage in town later in the month, and we would like to invite you all to join us for a housewarming party in two weeks.”

The inner circle broke into cheers around you, Cassian immediately encasing his brother in his arms and clapping him on the back.

“Congratulations, brother! I know you’ve waited a long time to find love.”

You remained seated where you were, offering a smile to the happy couple but staying put.

If you stood, you were sure to faint. Or be sick. Or both.

Nesta was the only other person who remained where they were, a skeptical look on her face.

“I hate to be the person to bring the party down…” She started, her voice weary. “But what of your mates? Haven’t you wanted one for your whole life, Azriel? What will happen when you find her?”

“If I find her, I will reject the bond, Nesta. My love for Elain eclipses that of what I thought possible, even with a mating bond. Nothing and no one will ever compare to your sister,” Azriel answered, which seemed to be enough to have Nesta’s approval, as she stood and made her way to the couple.

“Then I’m happy for the both of you. But if you ever hurt my sister, you will deal with me,” Nesta warned, ice in her tone.

You didn’t stick around to hear what came next.

Nothing and no one will ever compare to your sister.

And of course, he was right. How could you compare to Elain?

She was beautiful, yes, but she was also a perfect match for Azriel. Kind and caring, always ready to help people, not to mention she would be a wonderful mother.

And then there was you. Plain. Boring. Nothing special.

Even the Cauldron hadn’t thought anything of you, leaving you with a High Fae body but no magic to speak of.

You couldn’t even fathom why you had been made Azriel’s mate when Elain was such a wonderful pairing to him, and had the magical abilities to match.

You stumbled your way to the town house, where you had taken up residence once Feyre and Rhys had finished the river house. Once inside you quickly made it to your room and shucked off your clothes after locking the door.

Bare, you stood before the mirror and assessed yourself. It was a habit you had picked up once your family had regained their fortune after Feyre had been stolen away.

One that brought you no comfort, but you needed to do.

Your physique was fine, you had filled out in the past year of being fae.

But there was nothing… special about you. You were medium height. Your chest was a bit smaller than average. Your legs were on the shorter side, making your torso look too long.

And your legs… they were covered in small white scars.

Another habit that you had picked up, this time after turning fae.

And tonight would be no different.

You suppose the one saving grace of being turned fae was your quick healing, letting you destroy your body without anyone knowing.

And no one ever would, seeing as your mate was on his way to being married to your sister.

A sigh left your lips as you turned to your bed, fishing the small blade you kept underneath out from below the mattress.

Tonight would be no different.

Except now you knew that even if you confessed your bond to Azriel, your heart would be torn to shreds no matter what.

🤍💙🩷💙🤍

It was two months later, during Starfall, that your world crumbled further.

You had donned a plain dress in a midnight blue, with long flowing sleeves and reaching your feet. You had opted for flats, seeing as no one would pay you enough attention to notice if you were in heels or not.

No, no one would notice you at all.

Because Azriel had a ring in his pocket.

One that you had given him advice on, to choose something Elain would love.

A glutton for punishment, that’s what you were as you gazed at the beautiful couple, clad in matching blue outfits and beaming at one another.

You had attempted to stay home that night, only for Azriel himself to personally fly you up to the House of Wind, insisting that you needed to be there for Starfall.

You knew he meant their engagement, though.

He hadn’t even glanced your way once last Starfall, so you knew it wasn’t that you would be missed by him.

Still, you stood on one of the balconies, watching them. Waiting for the moment that your life would be forever altered, never to have a great love.

Because truly, your one chance at a great love was a mating bond. You knew that no one would choose you to spend their life with, not when you were so plain and boring with nothing to draw people in, to get to know you.

They were dancing together, so wrapped up in each other that it was painful to watch.

And then your feet were moving, leading you straight to them. You met them right as the song finished, the two of them just inches apart.

It stung.

“Azriel, may I speak to you for a moment?” You asked without realizing the words had left your mouth. “Alone, please? It will just be a moment, I promise.”

You cringed at yourself.

What were you doing?

Azriel glanced down at Elain, who nodded with a smile. “Of course. I’ll be right back, sweetheart,” he said softly, placing a gentle kiss to Elain’s lips before following you back into the House, away from the commotion.

“What’s this about, Y/N?” Azriel asked in a clipped tone once you were alone, anxiously glancing back to where you had left Elain.

“I…” You hesitated, the words catching in your throat. Are you really going to tell him?

“Well?” He asked impatiently, his shadows swirling around him.

“I… I’m your mate,” you said, the words rushing out all at once, and your tore your eyes away from his face and to the floor.

“You’re… You’re joking, right?” Azriel asked incredulously.

A dagger of ice to the heart, crafted of your own yearning and longing for him, for your mate.

“No, I… It’s true, Azriel. I am your mate.” Your eyes flicked back up to his face after you said it again, but you wished you hadn’t.

Anything would be better than seeing the horror in his eyes, the disgust twisting his features.

The dagger, forced in further by a hand smacking the hilt.

“You?” Azriel laughed. “Why would the Cauldron make you my mate?”

Twisting, bleeding, shredding your soul apart even as you felt the bond flare to life on his end, the very slightest stumble as he regarded you.

“I… I don’t know…” You whispered, barely audible.

“You’re not my mate,” Azriel said, stepping away from you. “You were never going to be my mate. You’re a fine enough person, sure, but how could you compare to Elain?” He shook his head, snickering to himself. “I suppose these five hundred years of waiting were for nothing. I’ll tell Cassian or Rhys take you back to the town house. Just…” He sighed. “Don’t take it personally. It’s not you, it’s me, hmm?”

And with that, the bond between the two of you was shredded, a wounded cry leaving your lips as you sank to the ground, clutching your chest where it used to reside, glowing brightly and giving you a reason to go on.

“I think it’s best for you to stay away from Elain and I. I wouldn’t want you getting territorial and ripping my love’s throat out of anything. Goodbye, Y/N.”

You barely heard him walk away, so overwhelmed with pain.

Why me?

Why was I his mate?

Why didn’t I just drown in the Cauldron?

With a great deal of trying, you managed to hoist yourself back onto your feet, stumbling your way to one of the unoccupied balconies, still clutching your chest.

Your gaping, empty chest.

Because Azriel still had your heart. He had shredded it, mangled it beyond believe but it still resided with him, leaving you with nothing but a hole where it used to be.

Your legs crashed into the edge of the balcony, your hands flying to the stone to steady you.

But it didn’t help, everything was still spinning, blood rushing in your ears as your heart kept beating somehow, somehow still physically intact even as you felt it was being ripped from your chest over and over and over.

You couldn’t breathe.

You couldn’t live.

The very fact that Elain was so casual, so blasé about shredding a bond to bits had you questioning everything you thought you knew about your sister.

How could she condemn someone to this existence?

Because already, you weren’t living.

This couldn’t be living.

It couldn’t be.

You risked a peak over the edge, spying the sharp, jagged rocks below.

If you weren’t living now…

Before you could second guess your choice, you lifted yourself onto the balcony, letting your legs dangle for a moment.

Then you swung them over the stone, to the side that had nothing to catch you.

Well, nothing but the cold embrace of death.

Which at this point would be a welcome reprieve from the fiery hot grief flooding through you, grief at the bond that was never given a chance, a moment to be considered.

But perhaps that was all the consideration you needed. To know that you would only have been a burden of mate to the male you had fallen for.

You took one last, jagged breath into your lungs before you slid off the smooth stone, air rushing past you and-

This must be what it feels like to fly.

General Taglist: @daughterofthemoons-stuff @lilah-asteria

[bueckers]

UNFINISHED BUSINESS ━━━ paige bueckers ( 2 )

synopsis: putting an end to everything, drea thinks she’s totally and completely done with paige bueckers. that is until the blonde is finally honest with her.

pairing: paige bueckers x fem oc

warnings: angst and smut. they’re so toxic but also like made for each other.. alcohol use, scissoring, fingering, lots of paige’s hands.

notes: another long one so there wasn’t any major cliffhangers, hopefully this makes up for the wait.. :) also a paige & flau’jae feature because i love them sm.

The morning sunlight filters through the hotel curtains, and she’s sitting at the edge of the bed. I can feel the space next to me where she was lying, still warm but empty now. She’s moving around, getting dressed, and I’m fighting the urge to reach out and pull her back into bed. But I know I shouldn’t.

“You don’t have to go yet,” I say, my voice barely above a whisper. It’s more of a plea than an offer, and I hate how desperate I sound. I can see her hesitate, her back to me as she fiddles with her shirt. For a second, I think she might stay, but then she turns to face me, and I can see the determination in her eyes. Why was it so difficult for me to just say it?

“Except I do. We never actually talked… if you missed that part,” she says, and I try to ignore the slight raise in her voice.

In attempt to busy myself, I grab my shirt from off the ground and pull it over my head. “The whole point of last night was to avoid that, Drea. We ain’ gotta talk about it.” I respond, and I’m only half joking, but I still wince at how much of a dick I sound.

She’s serious, and instead of agreeing or starting an argument, she ignores it. “Look,” she starts, and I can see her struggling to find the right words, her eyes glued to the bedsheets. Not me. I want to tell her she doesn’t have to say anything, that I get it, she deserved an explanation. But I don’t want to make it easy for her. Not when I know this is probably the last time we’re going to be like this.

“Last night.. it shouldn’t have happened.”

I furrow my eyebrows. "You don’t gotta say that. It’s not like we didn’t both want it,” I huff out.

She looks at me a certain way, and I can tell she hasn’t put much thought into what she’s saying. But she’s saying it anyway. "That’s not what I mean," she says quickly, like she’s trying to fix it. "I’m not saying I didn’t want it. I just… I shouldn’t have let things get so deep between us. How things ended.. it’s my fault.”

Her fault? She shouldn’t have let things get so deep? Theres no way she means these things, right? She stands there, biting her lip, and I know she’s waiting for me to say something. My throat feels tight, and my mind is a mess. I’m caught between wanting to shout at her, to tell her how wrong she is, and just shutting down completely.

This is Drea. The one person who’s always known how to get under my skin, in ways both good and bad. And now, while she’s standing right in front of me, telling me she regrets how deep we got, that basically, she thinks I cut her off because she caught feelings, I can’t help but feel like a fool. I spent so much time convincing myself that she didn’t feel the way I did, that I’d imagined the whole thing. Now it turns out she was in it too. And I don’t know what to do with that.

I wanna tell her to stop, to not say anything more. But I can’t let myself be that vulnerable, not when I’ve spent so long trying to protect whatever pieces of myself I have left. This is, like, the biggest joke of my life, and I don’t know whether to laugh or cry.

When I finally do speak, my voice comes out quieter than I expect, almost detached. “So, what now? We just pretend none of this ever mattered?”

Drea’s eyes meet mine, and for a moment, I see something flicker in them—regret, maybe, or doubt. It seems like this is the most straightforward conversation we’ve had about the way we actually feel, and everything’s coming to light and an end at the same time. Just as quickly, she pushes it away, her expression hardening, and it makes every dot in my mind connect. “I’m not saying it didn’t matter. It did. That’s why we need to stop.” She’s trying so hard to be the rational one, to be the one who ends this cleanly. But nothing about this is clean.

I nod slowly, swallowing the lump in my throat. “Fine. If that’s what you want.” God, I even sound bitter.

She looks at me like she’s searching for something—maybe a reason to stay, or maybe just confirmation that this is the right choice. But then she sighs, her shoulders sagging with the weight of it all, and I know nothing, at least in this moment, would change her mind about me.

“Please take care of yourself.” She kept me grounded when I couldn’t find my footing, and those words just feel so cruel. It sounded like we’d never be speaking again, and I hated that thought.

I nod, unable to trust my voice, and then she’s gone. And just like that, it’s over. Or at least, it’s supposed to be.

A few days pass in a blur, and my time in Phoenix is slowly coming to an end. It’s safe to say the events of the city had only temporarily kept my mind off of everything, and now I’m sitting in a bar with Flau’jae, trying my best not to let the rain cloud over my head poke out. She’s talking, animated as ever, but I’m only half-listening, my mind drifting back to Drea more often than I’d like to admit.

“You’re not even listening to me, are you?” Her voice cuts through my thoughts, pulling me back to the present.

I blink, forcing out a smile. “Sorry,” I apologize, stretching my arms out in a way to reset. “I’m listening now. Promise.”

Flau’jae narrows her eyes at me, clearly not buying it. “Nah, you’re not,” she says, crossing her arms and leaning back in her chair. “What’s got you so deep in thought? You’ve been acting like you’re here, but not really here, y’know?”

I shrug, trying to play it off. “Just tired, I guess. Been a long week.”

She studies me for a moment, her gaze sharp. “Uh-huh. And this long week wouldn’t have anything to do with a certain someone, would it?”

I bite my lip, trying to stay cool. Flau’jae doesn’t know about Drea and me—no one does, really. We made sure of that. But if anyone’s gonna pick up on something, it’s her. I should’ve known better than to think I could just sit here and pretend everything’s fine.

“Maybe,” I say vaguely, hoping that’s enough to satisfy her curiosity. “I just got a lot on my mind, I’m fine,” I reassure, furrowing my eyebrows as if it was nothing to worry about.

She raises an eyebrow, leaning in like she’s about to uncover some big secret. “Stuff, huh? Girl stuff?”

I roll my eyes, trying to play it off. “You’re too nosy for your own good, you know that?”

She grins, laughing a little. “Paige! Come on, spill. Who is she?”

I hesitate, and for a second, I consider telling her everything. But that’s a slippery slope, and I’m not ready to go there. So instead, I won’t reveal too much. “It’s complicated,” I sigh.

Flau’jae crosses her arms, fully intrigued. “Complicated how?” She could be a detective.

I sigh, raking a hand through my hair. “Just... complicated. Things didn’t end the way they were supposed to. And now I’m stuck trying to figure out what to do next.”

She nods slowly, taking that in. “So, you and this girl… y’all were close?”

“Yeah,” I huff out, nodding as I press my lips together. “Real close.”

Flau’jae gives me a knowing look. “Thats who you was texting last night at the game?”

“Maybe,” I drag out, a shit-eating grin gracing my face. Then I slip up. “I was jus’ too scared to say anything to her face.”

Her eyes widen, and she brings a hand up to cusp her lips. It takes me a bit to realize, and as soon as I do, she cuts me off. Damn it. “Thats why you was hugging her a little too long after the final buzzer.”

“Hey! I ain’ even say a name,” I say quickly and louder than intended, trying to backtrack.

She leans forward, eyes wide with amusement. “You didn’t have to! You gave me everything I needed to know. Paige, what the hell? You and Drea, for real? I didn’t know you had game like that.”

I jerk my head back, scrunching my face up at her. There was no doubt that Drea was one of the prettiest faces in the game, and the fact that she can ball too just really adds to it. “I can show you what these rizz hands can do,” I joked momentarily. “It wasn’t even supposed to be a thing, though. We kept it on the low for a reason.”

Flau’jae shakes her head, holding her lips a little tighter now. “You know what Twitter would do with this? You been out here sneaky-linking and didn’t even give me a heads-up?”

Sneaky-linking? Was that really what it was? “Can we stop talking about this?” I say, half-laughing despite myself.

“And y’all met in high school, too. That’s some next-level soulmatism or something.”

I chuckle, licking my lips as I lift up my drink. The clinking of the ice fills the silence, and I’m able to put a close to the conversation. “It’s over now, anyway. Doesn’t matter.” It’s a lie. We’d clearly went over that it did matter.

Flau’jae studies me for a moment, her eyes narrowing as if she can see right through me. But then she lifts her hands up in surrender, a smirk playing on her lips. “Alright, if it’s really over, how about you find someone tonight? You could use it if I’m being honest,” She retorts, referring to the mood I’ve been in the entire night because of my situation.

“Chill!” I laugh, shaking my head as I lean back in my chair myself. “You make it sound so easy.”

She shrugs, and I hesitate, taking a second to let my eyes wander around the bar. A couple of eyes meet mine, lingering longer than what’s considered normal. I’m not sure if they might know who I am, or just think I’m attractive. Or maybe both.

Flau’jae seems to notice too, shooting me a wild and bright smile. “See? you still got it. Just make a good choice.”

The car hums beneath me, the city lights flashing past as I sink into the leather of the backseat, my head leaning against the window. I can still taste the alcohol on my tongue, and my mind is replaying the past few hours like a hazy, disconnected reel. All I can think about is her.

You’d think after a night out I’d at least be able to get the mass of Drea off my mind, but I think it just made everything worse. No matter how hard I try to push her out, physically and emotionally, she’s always there, right on the edge of my thoughts.

I pull my phone out of my pocket, my thumb hovering over her contact. I know I shouldn’t text her. I know it’s a bad idea. But our last conversation on repeat and the emptiness from earlier are making my judgment untrustworthy, and before I can stop myself, I’m typing out a message.

Yo, you up?

I stare at the screen, the words staring back at me. It’s a weak attempt, but I’m past caring. A part of me almost hopes she won’t respond, that she’ll leave me to deal with the consequences of my choices alone. But then I add another text, like I can’t help myself.

Idc if you’re not

It feels like a challenge. Like I’m daring her to ignore me, to stay out of it. But I know that’s not what I want.

I swallow hard and send one last message, my fingers trembling slightly as I type.

You still in Phoenix, right?

The words hang there, waiting for her response. My heart pounds in my chest, and I can’t tell if it’s from the countless amounts of dirty shirley’s or the anticipation of hearing from her. Or both. I really hope I don’t throw up in this car.

I lean back in the seat in attempt to relax, but I can literally hear my heart beating. I wonder if the driver can, really. I don’t know what I’m hoping for, but I know that if she’s still here, if she answers… I’m not sure I’ll be able to resist whatever comes next.

The minutes stretch out in silence, broken only by the occasional sound of the car’s tires hitting a pothole. I keep my eyes glued to the screen, watching the three little dots appear and disappear. I should put my phone away, maybe even go back to the hotel and sleep this off, but I can’t. I’m too far gone for that.

The Uber turns down another quiet street, and I feel the weight of my decisions pressing down on me. It’s not just about tonight. It’s about all the nights that led up to this, every bad choice that brought me to this moment. The thought of facing it alone is unbearable, and I realize that’s why I texted her. Not because I want her to come over, but because I don’t want to be alone. Or that I do, just with her.

My phone buzzes in my hand, and I almost drop it in my rush to check the screen.

Why?

A single word, blunt and to the point. She’s guarded, as usual. But the fact that she responded at all makes me happy enough.

I just… I hesitate, staring at the blinking cursor. I don’t even know what I’m trying to say, but I settle on honesty.

Just wanna see you. Is that so bad?

I hit send before I can second-guess myself. My fingers hover over the screen again, and then I add another message.

I don’t wanna stop seeing you fr

It’s more than I planned to say, more vulnerable than I planned to be, but it’s the truth. And I’m too tired of pretending otherwise.

The reply comes quickly this time, and I can almost hear her voice in the words.

Are you drunk texting me right now?

And no, you mean you don’t wanna stop fucking me

Her words hit me like a punch in the gut, and for a moment, I just stare at the screen, the bright light from my phone casting harsh shadows in the dark car. I can feel the truth in what she’s saying, but it’s only part of it. Yeah, we’ve been physical, and I’m not denying that’s been a big part of this whole thing, but it’s not just that.

No, Drea. It’s more than that. We both know it always was.

You said it three days ago.

I hesitate before hitting send, but I know I have to. I can’t keep hiding behind the bullshit. She deserves better than that even if she won’t appreciate it.

The reply doesn’t come right away, and the silence feels like it’s pressing in on me from all sides. I shift in my seat. This whole thing—this whole night—feels like I’m balancing on a razor’s edge, and I’m terrified of falling off.

When her response finally comes, it’s short.

It’s 2am.

Ok, it’s not ideal. but I can’t stop thinking about everything you said.

And everything I didn’t say.

There’s another long pause, and I can almost picture her on the other end, trying to figure out what to say. We’ve been dancing around each other for so long, caught up in this push and pull, and now it feels like we’re on the verge of something, but neither of us knows how to take the next step.

Then, her next message comes through, and it’s enough to make my chest tighten. It’s hesitant but willing.

Where are you?

Outside your hotel.

Her reply is instant this time.

Come up.

I shove my phone into my pocket and step out of the Uber, my mind on a million as I make my way to her room. Every step feels heavy as if I’m walking through mud, but there’s a part of me that knows this is where I need to be—where I’ve always needed to be.

When I reach her door, it swings open almost as soon as I knock, and there she is, standing in front of me. Her eyes are guarded, just like her text messages, but I can see something softer underneath. Something that tells me she’s just as scared of this as I am.

“Paige,” she says, her voice a little wistful as she fiddles with the door knob. She looks me up and down, almost as if I’m being examined before I’m allowed in.

I don’t know what to say, so I just step forward, closing the distance between us. “I’m not drunk,” I state, shooting down her concerns from a few moments ago. She wouldn’t proceed if there was a chance I wouldn’t remember anything in the morning.

She looks at me for another long moment, like she’s trying to decide if she believes me. Then, with a sigh, she steps aside, letting me in. The door closes behind me with a soft click, and I lean against it. Suddenly we’re alone in her room, the reality of the situation settling around us.

“I know I shouldn’t have texted. But I did, and I’m glad I’m here.” I ramble, although still stern.

She sighs, and the curls that fall perfectly over her shoulders bounce a bit. Shes in a pair of short pajama shorts and a long, grey Nike tee-shirt that could’ve been mine. Correction, it definitely is mine. “You’re making this so much harder than it has to be.”

“It doesn’t have to be hard. We can make it less complicated.” I try to reason.

She stiffens, her breath catching as she looks at me, her eyes searching mine. “I—“

“I’m serious,” I cut her off, my voice low as I step closer to her. I couldn’t tell you what I was thinking. “I don’t know when I’m gonna see you again. And I can’t… I can’t leave tomorrow without letting you know how much I care.”

I don’t say it out loud, but the words are there, hanging in the air between us. I love you. And I’m sorry. But I can’t bring myself to say it. I don’t know why. Instead, I just hope she can feel it, hoping she knows without me having to spell it out.

“You can’t keep doing this,” she says quietly, her back turned to me as she walks further into the room. “Running to me when you’re feeling lost. It’s not fair.”

“I know,” I admit, taking a step closer. “But I’ont know how to stop. I’ve tried, but… since you’ve been apart of my life it’s been hard to let you go. I don’t wanna lose you—“

“You already did,” she cuts me off, turning to face me, and it scares me how serious she sounds. There’s pain in her eyes, but there’s also something else—something that makes me hope, even if just for a second. “We both did.”

I close the gap between us, and I can tell it catches her by surprise because of the look she gives me. My hands gently cup her face. “Then why am I here? Why did you let me in again?”

She glances down at my lips, and despite being angry, she doesn’t respond with words. Physicality has always been our response for everything involving each other. It’s all we know. She leans into my touch, and it feels like a birthday gift. Her eyes flutter shut before she opens them again, and it’s enough to make me lean in, pressing my lips to hers in a kiss that’s more desperate than anything else.

She kisses me back, her hands finding their way to my shoulders as she pulls me closer, and for a moment, it feels like everything else fades away. It’s just us, tangled up in each other, trying to find something solid to hold onto.

But then she pulls back, breathless, her hands still resting on my shoulders. She’s looking down, like she’s fighting some internal battle. “Oh my God,” she whispers, shaking her head. “You are drunk.”

“I told you I’m not,” I murmur, trying to find her eyes and pull her back to me by the waist, but she resists, her fingers gripping my shoulders tighter. Her resistance is strong, her fingers digging into my shoulders as if she’s trying to push away the intensity of the moment. “Please, Drea.”

She shakes her head, eyes still averted. “I can taste the alcohol!” She brings her thumb up to brush over my lips. “I knew it, why the fuck would you lie?” She’s trying to walk away at this point, but my grip is too tough. I won’t let her go.

“No, listen,” I say, more eager and clear. “What I said, what I meant—none of that has to do with being drunk. I’m here because I need you. Because I want you. This isn’t just about tonight.”

Drea’s resolve falters, her eyes flickering back to mine with her perfectly arched eyebrows crinkling up just a bit. “You’re saying all the right things, but I can’t just ignore—”

I cut her off by pulling her closer, my grip firm but gentle on her hips. My thumbs move beneath her shirt, stroking her skin and feeling the muscle. “I know.” My lips are ghosting over her ear. “But please, just for tonight, let’s not think about it.” I press a kiss right below it. “Just be with me. Let’s just be here.”

“Paige..” she starts again, her voice softer this time, and I love it when she says my name. I lean in, silencing her with a kiss that’s both insistent and tender. She melts into it, her resistance breaking as she wraps her arms around my neck. Shes quick to sneak her tongue in, the movement making me wince, furrowing my brows at how good she tastes.

I guide her backward until her knees hit the edge of the bed, and she falls onto it with a soft thud. I follow her down, my body pressing against hers as our kiss grows more fervent. My hands explore her curves, skimming over the fabric of her shirt as it rides up, and I feel her shiver beneath me.

“Is this mine?” I breathe against her lips, the warmth of her hands on my cheeks making my face flush a vibrant red. Drea nods, her breath hitching as she catches the look in my eyes. Without another word, I grab the hem of her shirt and yank it up over her head, tossing it aside. The shirt hits the floor, and she starts giggling like a school girl, her chest now fully exposed and daunting.

The sound of her laughter makes my stomach flip, and I can’t help but grin, leaning down to capture her mouth in another kiss. This time, there’s no hesitation, no holding back. Our bodies press together, her skin warm and soft against mine, like it was made for me.

My hands begin to wander a bit too much, all the way down to her shorts. Slipping my hand in, I can already feel how wet she is. She lets out a soft gasp as I trace slow, deliberate circles against her clit firmly. “Tell me what you want, baby,” I whisper, my breath fanning over her neck.

Her body has always reacted to every touch, every word. She’s trying to stay composed, but I can tell she’s barely holding on. Her hips instinctively push against my hand, silently begging for more, but I keep my movements steady, torturously slow and sloppy. I want to hear her say it.

“You,” she breathes out, her voice wavering. She’s antsy, I can feel it—the way her muscles tense, the way her breath comes in shallow pants.

“C’mon,” I murmur, nipping at her earlobe. “You can do better than that.”

She whimpers, her hands gripping my shoulders, nails digging into my skin as she tries to find the words. “Please… I need—” She breaks off, a soft moan escaping her lips when I press harder, right where she needs it most.

But then she grabs my wrist, stopping me just before she can fall over the edge. Her eyes lock with mine, and they’re low, dark, and daring. Three words that are very Drea. “Stop,” she says, her voice firmer now, even though I can tell it’s taking all her willpower. “I wanna feel you.”

The way she says it—so raw, so desperate—it’s enough to make me slip into a trance. I pull back, my gaze lingering on her as I strip off the rest of my clothes, watching as she does the same. Every inch of her is so perfect to the point where it should be a crime, and I want to touch every part.

I lay back on the bed, and she climbs on top of me, her movements deliberate and careful as she positions herself right over the bottom half of my body. I let my hands slide down her sides, tracing the curve of her waist before coming to rest on her ass. I tilt my head slightly against the pillows, mouth slightly agape. I can’t resist giving her a gentle squeeze, eliciting a soft noise from her. I smile, and my hands linger there, holding her close as she settles into place. We’ve done this countless amounts of times, and every single time it feels different. Better.

“You’re so fuckin’ sexy, you know that?” I pull her hips down, aligning our bodies perfectly, and the feeling of her heat against mine makes my breath catch, but I’m still focused. “Could stay like this all night.”

Drea licks her lips, her eyes fluttering closed for a moment as she adjusts herself, the friction and jolting of our bodies a whole whirlpool of pleasure. “You better,” she whispers back, a teasing smile tugging at her lips as her hands grip my legs so she can find herself.

Slowly, she starts to move, her hips grinding down against mine in a smooth rhythm. Every slide of her body against me is agonizingly perfect, and I can’t help the groan that escapes as she finds a pace that makes my whole body push up against her.

My eyebrows furrow as I take sight of where we meet, her pussy flat against mine. The squelching of our juices together fills the room, and I lose it. Maybe the alcohol is accentuating the feeling for me, or she’s just this good. “Fuck…” I breathe out, my hands roaming up her back, feeling the muscles flex and move beneath her skin. “You feel so good. Always so good.”

Her response is a soft moan, her head falling forward slightly as she loses herself. I let my hands slide back down to her ass, guiding her movements, making sure every grind, every brush of our bodies, hits just right. I can feel her trembling, her thighs shaking as she picks up the pace, chasing that high.

I can’t resist teasing her a little, my hands kneading her ass as she rides me, my fingers brushing just along the edge of her entrance, close enough to make her squirm but not enough to give her what she really wants. She lets out a frustrated moan, hips moving harder, trying to get more.

“Paige!” she groans, voice full of need and just the right amount of anger, her breath coming out in ragged pants. “Stop playing with me. I can’t take it.”

My grip tightens, and I keep her exactly where I want her, reaching up to tuck a loose curl behind her ear, my fingers lingering as I brush my thumb gently along her cheek. “You can take it, baby,” I whisper. “I know you can.”

She looks at me with those pleading eyes, her breath hitching as she adjusts herself, arching her back more. The movement pushes her even closer to me, our bodies pressing together, and the feeling almost sends me over the edge.

Without warning, I dip two fingers into her entrance, the sight too pretty to resist. It makes her gasp, her body collapsing forward against me. Our skin sticks together, warm too from the sweat, and her chest is pressing against mine as she struggles to catch her breath.

Before she can lose herself entirely, I slide my hand to her lower stomach, pushing her back up, guiding her into place. “Nah, stay up w’me, ma.” My voice is shaky with the effort of holding it together. Out of breath, mouth wide open. “Hold that shit.”

She whines out, her voice high and so pornographic. “Mm—oh, I can’t…” Her words trail off into a desperate moan, her body shuddering as my fingers move in that come-hither motion, curling inside her just right. The feeling of her slick is almost too much to bear, making my head spin.

I push through, keeping her steady even as I feel myself starting to lose control. “You can,” I pant, my breath coming out in ragged bursts. “So close, I know you can do it.”

She’s trembling, her thighs shaking as she tries to follow my command, but I can see the strain on her face, her dilated pupils, the way she’s fighting to keep herself together. My fingers work faster, deeper, and she bites down so hard on her lip I swear it might bleed.

Finally, when I feel her body tighten around me, right on the edge of breaking, I tap her ass lightly with my palm and pull my fingers out just enough to catch everything. “Now, baby. Come for me.”

The moment I say it, she lets go, and we come together, our bodies moving in sync, the room filled with strangled noises. The pleasure is blinding, overwhelming, and I cling to her as we ride it out. She’s finally able to fall on top of me comfortably, hand resting on my chest.

We stay like that for a moment, tangled together, both of us shaking with the aftershocks, until we finally start to come down. I press a soft kiss to her temple, my heart still racing (for more than one reason I’ll admit) as I hold her close.

I can feel her hesitance, scared to move or say anything. But I can also feel her tiredness, the way her body sags against mine like she’s too worn out to keep up any walls.

Gently, I shift, moving my body so I’m laid up next to her, our limbs tangling together naturally. My arm stays draped around her, holding her close as she nestles her head into the crook of my neck, her breath warm against my skin. It feels good—too good—like maybe we could stay like this forever if we didn’t know better.

“I want you to mean what you said. All of it.” 

Her words hang, and I can feel her hesitation, the fear that I’m just saying things because it’s easier than dropping the bomb or just straight losing her. I swallow, pulling her closer.

“You’ont think I did?”

“Paige.”

“Drea, I do.”

She doesn’t respond right away, just presses herself deeper into me, like she’s trying to believe it, trying to let herself see us being more than what we are right now without it turning into shit. I know how hard that is, how many times we’ve proven we aren’t made for each other.

“Then prove it,” she finally murmurs, her voice a little stronger now, like she’s challenging me, daring me to back it up.

I nod against her, not sure if she can even feel it, but I know what she means. It’s not about words anymore—it’s about what comes next, and whether we can make it work. “I will,” I promise, and for once, I really believe it.

[superhero--imagines]

Being Sanji’s GF would include:

A/N: this is the ugliest banner I ever made I swear.

Tags: Female reader

* A man that is 6 ft +, can cook, and treats you with respect? I can’t believe we as a society weren’t simping for him before

* We already know that he loves pretty girls, so if you reciprocate his advances—he’s down hook, line, and sinker

* I feel like he’d fall hard and fast for someone a bit shy, with a soft form of kindness

* Sanji himself is so kind, even if it’s in these extremes depending on the gender of the recipient

* So seeing someone who kindness comes to so naturally, where it isn’t a flickering flame or a bright fire, but just a soft warmth that linger in all of their actions leaves him in awe

* “You’re amazing.”

* He’s still got a wandering eye though, so catch him randomly slapping himself or sitting with his face in his hands as he tries to restrain himself from ‘being unfaithful’

* “Hey Sanji?”

* “Hmmm.”

* “Have you ever thought about cheating on me?”

* The dishes he was washing clatters in the sink and he grabs your hand in both of his, kneeling in front of you

* “Never!” And he means it, he might look but he would never dream of being with someone other than you. “You’re the only person I want to be with.”

* I think as time goes on he gets a lot better at understanding why he feels the way he does, and eventually the flirtatious behavior cools down even though he’s still as kind as always because he realizes it comes from a place of craving validation instead of genuine love

* And honestly, now that he has you he doesn’t need it from anyone else anymore

* “(Y/N)-chan, can you get me the oregano?”

* You smile as you get it from the fridge, it’s not easy for him to ask you to do things

* He has the biggest goofiest grin on his face when you wrap your arms around his waist and rest your head on his shoulder

* Sanji would literally give you a romance as big as the world — or he’d try to at least

* “Sanji this is really lovely.” And you mean it, the candle lit dinner and all your favorite foods at the center of the deck

* “But um, I feel a little bad for Luffy.” It’s more than a little, there’s an entire waterfall of drool falling past his lips from his spot behind a pillar.

* His fingers curl under your chin, urging you to meet his gaze

* “There’s nothing to feel bad about, of course I would spoil the most important person in my life.”

* Your cheeks heat up from the words.

* “But Sanji—“ you look to the pillar seeing seven faces quickly duck, and a hand grab luffys still salivating head. “—they’re all staring!”

* If you could die from embarrassment you’d be six feet under

* “Let them stare, it’s because they’re dazzled by your beauty.”

* “Actually it’s because we’re hungry!” Luffy shouts, only to have his mouth covered by Nami.

* Sanji ends up making them a snack.

* His favorite hobby is pretending Chopper is your child when you guys go out

* “When are you guys going to stop pretending he’s your baby?” Zoro growls

* You look over at Chopper who’s happily sitting on Sanji’s shoulders, munching away on cotton candy

* “When he stops pretending to enjoy it,” You respond

* “That’s never going to happen!” Chopper shouts with a giggle

* He’s so greedy with you I swear

* You give him a kiss, he gives you back at least five

* You hold his hand, he keeps you glued to his side for the rest of the night

* “I know it’s ugly of me to get an inch and take a mile, but…around you I just can’t keep myself from trying.”

* He learns how to make all your favorite childhood foods, either from a relative or by studying old recipe books from your homeland

* And if you ever seem homesick or you’re feeling down he’ll suspense you with the dish

* “How did you learn to make this?” Your region is a far ways away from his usual French cuisine

* “I have my secrets.”

* Please cook for this man, just once, make a fancy dinner and have the whole crew pitch in as wait staff

* “You’re always taking care of us so this time we wanted to serve you!”

* He’ll eat half-burned pasta with tears of joy streaming down his face

* “This is the best meal I’ve ever had.”

* He’ll fall even harder for you if you have his wanted poster near your bunk bed

* “There’s a little red stain near my lips though—“

* “Ah, sometimes when I can’t see you at night I give it a little kiss for luck haha.”

* He’s dead. Sanjis dead.

* Cause of death: love sickness

* He died happy though

* He’s just such a simp for you man

* Like, take the shirt off his back and lay it over a puddle so you don’t get your feet wet, hear you’re craving a certain type of food and make it the next meal, buys you feminine hygiene products from the store with pride (along with some snacks he knows you like, kiss your hands and worship the ground you walk on type of love.

* Honestly what a dream

A/N: kinda wanna make a nsfw version too.

[hotyanderedaddies]

The School Bully Loves You, Pt. 4:

Yandere Bully Interrupts Your "Date"

Part 0 │ Part 1 │ Part 2 │ Part 3

[Yandere! Bully x GN Nerd! Reader]

·゜·:.。..。.:·☆·゜·:.。..。.:·☆

Jonathan was a nice guy, you figured.

The quarterback of the football team was always all smiles, and he seemed to never treat you differently despite being way higher up on the social ladder. Therefore, you sort of liked to tutor him. Not only did it feel like you were sometimes hanging out with a close friend, but it also made you feel good deep down that a guy was paying you some attention... even if it was just for school. But still.

And plus, you figured that he could potentially protect you from Blake.

Seriously, it was crystal clear that Jonathan lived in the gym after school, given his large muscles and athletic prowess.

Blake is muscular too, but he tends to hide his bulk underneath his leather jacket.

But still!

You tried your best to force your mind away from Blake as you and Jonathan pulled into the parking lot of a local diner. It was a small place where the two of you could be uninterrupted during your study session. It was one of the few local spots where Jonathan would treat you as payment for tutoring him, and you'd always order something sweet and tasty!

The two of you took your seats at one of the booths near the back, and your eyes stayed glued to the door. The constant fear of Blake finding you kept you on edge, and you found it hard to stay present with your brain always straying back to the bully.

You mentally berated yourself, annoyed that you kept thinking about Blake.

He'd claimed you as his, and you'd gotten three strikes.

Both of those spelt trouble in your mind, and you wanted nothing more than to avoid the guy. Therefore, you figured that being away from school with someone big who could protect you was the best course of action.

Jonathan and you placed your orders and tried to start the tutoring session, but it was close to impossible for you to get your nerves settled.

"Is something on your mind?" the jock finally asked when he'd noticed you staring nervously at the door for the millionth time.

"O-oh!" you mumbled, jerking out of your panicked daze. "I'm sorry, I'm just a little... distracted." You sheepishly smiled at the end of your statement, hoping that the jock wouldn't catch onto you inadvertently using him as protection.

Jonathan pursed his lips into a thin line, deep in thought. "So," he slowly asked, shrugging his broad shoulders, "is it Blake?"

You jerked back in your seat, shocked. "Wh-what do you mean?" you stuttered, trying your best to force an innocent smile onto your face.

Jonathan scrunched up his face in confusion. "Oh, my bad," he muttered. "I just thought that you two were having couple problems."

"'Couple problems'?" you repeated.

Jonathan shrugged again. "Well, yeah," he grunted. "I mean, by the way Blake talks about you, I thought the two of you were dating..."

"The way he talks about me?" you repeated again, feeling yourself go pale at the words you heard.

Never in your life would you have ever expected Blake to talk about you in any sort of positive manner. You always tried to avoid him like the plague, hence you'd preferred if he didn't know that you existed. But if he were to talk about you, you half-expected him to curse your name and call you the scum of the earth given how badly he's beaten people up all around you.

Thinking about it, there were several of Blake's victims you knew personally:

Kyle, the bully who's stolen your lunch money back in the sixth grade. He'd gotten his face beaten to a pulp, causing his nose to be a little crooked now.

Tristan, the guy who'd called you ugly on picture day. Blake had based his face so hard that his front teeth had been knocked out, totally ruining his picture.

Cesar, the douche who'd smashed your science project to smithereens for a YouTube prank. Well, Blake had filmed himself stomping him in the nuts, posting it to Cesar's now defunct account.

Wait...

"Wh-what has Blake said... about me?" you asked, feeling your heart fall to the floor as you thought everything over. It all had to be a coincidence, right?

The waitress delivered your food, distracting the jock for a second as he began to eat his fries. "Oh, um, he says lots of things about you," he mumbled, his mouth full of food.

That didn't really help.

"Like what?" you pressed.

The jock took a loud gulp of his soda. "Well, he says that he--"

He was cut off by the loud slamming of the front door. The both of you were altered to the booming noise, making you both flinch as you turned to see none other than Blake enter the tiny diner.

The bully's eyes scanned the area before landing on you, narrowing in your direction.

Uh-oh...

To be continued...

·゜·:.。..。.:·☆·゜·:.。..。.:·☆

I'm sorry about the lack of tagging people! I'm forever and always appreciative of everyone's interest in this story. Unfortunately, I just can't tag everyone at the moment. I apologize and hope you all understand!

[captn-trex]

playing pretend

Rex x F!Reader / Bi!Reader

word count: 4.2k

description: Rex is a good friend of yours, and any good friend would teach you how to flirt, right?

warnings: reader is bisexual, a few suggestive lines of dialogue/sexual innuendo, friends to lovers, that's it I think

a/n: I really went back and forth on whether to make the reader bi or not lmao. I suppose it could get less reads because of it but eh. at the end of the day I write for my own enjoyment, so here it is

You drummed your fingers unrhythmically on the table, watching your ‘target’, so to speak, from across the bar. You pursed your lips, brows drawn together in concentration as your mind worked something up.

“Are you-”

“I’m finding it” You cut off the clone Captain, holding your hand up as you continued watching the woman at the bar.

She was honestly gorgeous, you couldn't have possibly missed her when she walked in. Her hair falling to her jaw and hanging over her forehead and into her eyes, those big blue eyes…

Okay. Maybe you were getting a little ahead of yourself, you didn't even know the woman. But you wanted to know her, and that was enough.

“Nothing is going to happen if you just keep staring, you know” Rex informed you with a teasing grin, and you directed a lazy scowl in his direction.

“I'm aware, just give me a minute” You turned back to watch the woman once more.

She was now on her tiptoes, leaning over the bar a little to talk to the bartender, and you gulped, looking back to Rex. His expression was nothing short of amused, watching you fawn over this mystery woman and not having the guts to go and speak to her.

“You're really not helping right now” You grumbled, and he just grinned back at you, shrugging.

“I know, it's funnier just to watch”

“Some friend you are” You rolled your eyes, but there was no real animosity behind it.

You and Rex had been friends for a number of years, with you working as an engineer in the heart of the Republic. You didn't get to see him very often anymore, especially not with the war stretching the GAR so thin, so you cherished these moments you did get with him. You felt sort of bad, having gone to the bar to catch up with him and now having your eyes glued to someone else.

“I can't understand what the fuss is all about” Rex admitted as he took a swig of his drink.

“What? You must be joking” You laughed, “She's probably the most stunning person I've ever seen”

Rex scrunched his nose a little, a shrug in his shoulders, “Eh, not my type”

You blew out a long breath, shaking your head disapprovingly, “You're missing out then”

“Seems you'll be missing out too” He replied quickly, amusement dancing in his eyes.

You nudged his shoulder a little, “Once again, not helping”

You let your eyes wander back to the woman in question, who was somehow still alone, and now holding a drink. She was stood leaning her back against the bar, her eyes scanning the room as she swirled her drink with the straw provided.

You sighed, but it wasn't a dreamy sigh of admiration, it was shallow and exasperated. Rex frowned a little, the heavy breath audible even over the loud volume of the bar. He bit into his cheek a little before he spoke.

“What's actually stopping you from going over?” He asked, the sincerity in his voice surprising you.

You turned to look at him again, and found the look he was giving you to be all too inviting. You shifted in your seat a little, looking down to your lap and musing on how it was exactly that kind of look, from his eyes specifically, that made you so nervous to go and speak to the woman.

You had always secretly harboured some more-than-friendly feelings for the Captain, and had tried to make that known. After a while of trying, you presumed he was deliberately ignoring your advances in the hopes that you'd stop, so you did. Though it didn't stop the way your heart raced when his amber eyes met yours with such an intensity as they just had.

Truthfully, it was the complicated feelings that you had for the Captain that had shaken your confidence, and you found yourself unable to even try. Especially with him sat right there.

It was particularly odd. In every other aspect of your life, you were reasonably confident, or at least sure of yourself and your abilities. However when it came to the realm of romance, you had no such luck.

You couldn't tell Rex that it was your ridiculous crush on him that made you feel this way, you know he would blame himself and just keep apologising for ever shaking your self-worth. Though, it wasn't his fault, it was you.

You, ever the romantic, that loved far more easily and deeply than apparently anyone else.

“I'm just no good at… flirting, and… all that stuff” You admitted, your voice a little quieter than it had been the moment before.

Rex studied you carefully, his eyes scanning your suddenly nervous demeanour.

“That's bullshit”

Your gaze snapped back to him, your expression almost scandalised, “What?”

“You're so outgoing, there's no way” He argued, but you just shook your head at him.

“It's not just about being outgoing” You countered.

“Then what is it about?” He crossed his arms, leaning forward so that his elbows rested against the table.

You laughed airily, “I'm not sure, why don't you tell me?”

“You want flirting advice from me?” Rex smirked a little, one eyebrow lifted as his eyes bored into you.

“No, I-” You rolled your eyes once again, then came to a stop, “I guess that's not a bad idea actually”

Rex was a little bemused, you could see that much plain as day on his features. He bit into his lip a little, watching you with concentrated eyes for a moment.

“Alright, I'll give it a shot” He conceded, and you gave him a small grin.

“Okay then, where do we begin Master Rex?" You asked with a slight air of teasing.

“Please don't call me that” He huffed, shaking his head, “But I don't know, what's your usual approach?”

You should know. You couldn't stop yourself thinking it.

“Uh…” You thought for a moment. What was your usual approach? “I guess I try a compliment, and then if that lands, I… try and work whatever response they give into some kinda… story, a tidbit, an explanation, that sort of thing. To get talking or whatever”

“Right” Rex frowned for just a second before his expression returned to neutral. You almost thought you'd imagined it. “And that doesn't work?”

You huffed, “Well obviously not, if it hasn't got me anywhere yet”

Rex hummed thoughtfully, giving you an odd sort of look that you really couldn't place.

“What is it?” You asked. You were open enough with him that you could ask freely and you knew he'd give you an honest answer.

“Nothing” He dismissed it.

At least, you thought he'd give you an honest answer.

“Okay, why don't you try flirting with me and we can see where it's going wrong” He suggested, his regular demeanour returning.

You gave him your best disgusted look, “Flirt with you? No thanks”

He just rolled his eyes, “It's just pretend, come on”

“Pretend or not, it's still you” You pointed out, desperately trying to contest the way your body was reacting to the thought of actually flirting with Rex. Or more accurately, Rex flirting with you.

“Oh please, you should be so lucky” He pushed at your side a little, his face pulled into a teasing smile.

Oh, how right he was.

“Come on, humour me” He urged.

You sighed aggressively, giving in, “Fine”

The task was a lot easier said than done. What could you say to Rex that could go under the radar enough that he wouldn't realise you were actually interested in him? Your mind drew a blank.

But those eyes… the ones that drew you in like nothing else, they were just watching you, same as ever. Could you really compliment his eyes? Or would that be too much? Had you complimented his eyes all those moons ago when you had tried to gain his attention? You couldn't remember.

“Say Rex” You gave your best over-the-top voice, accompanying it with a sickly sweet smile, “Did you know, you have the most wonderful brown eyes?”

Rex chuckled at your ridiculousness, “Stop fooling around, come on, do it properly”

“Hey! How do you know that wasn't me doing it properly?” You acted offended, but Rex just gave you a pointed look and you huffed, “Fine, fine”

You knew what Rex was like, always too eager to help, so you put your ego aside for a moment and just gave in to letting him help you do this. You took a deep breath before beginning, mustering up a little courage.

“You know Rex…” You began, your tone regular with an extra hint of wonder, and leaning ever so slightly towards him, “I've never met anyone with eyes quite as beautiful as yours”

It was said in such earnest, almost wistfully, that Rex actually seemed a little startled. He quickly recovered though, and leant in a fraction himself, continuing the simulation.

“That right?” He hummed, looking at you down his nose a little, “You can't have met very many people in your life then”

You frowned, though your lips indicated a small smirk, “Don't sell yourself short Captain, It's true!” You insisted, “They're very captivating. Some might say they were brown, though I might say they were more amber than anything, and-” You leaned in even closer, your eyes narrowing a fraction as they looked into his, “That's right, there's a little bit of gold in there too”

Rex was thoroughly captivated. He wondered how you could say you were bad at flirting when you had him absolutely wrapped around your finger in only two lines. Not only was it your words, but it was everything else too. Everything about you. Your presence enveloping him, your face so close to his, your eyes searching his so deeply, inspecting him in a way that made him feel alive rather than scrutinised. It was enough to make him weak in the knees, so he was thankful for being sat down.

“I think you're just saying that” He spoke lowly, giving you a chance to back down, to take it back.

You shook your head resolutely, your smirk blooming, “I'm not a liar if that's what you're accusing me of”

“I wasn't-” Rex's voice was taken from him at the feel of your hand resting atop his thigh. He had armour on, of course, but had he known you were going to do that, he would have dressed down in civvies this evening. Even the light weight of your hand, the knowledge that it was there, was all that was needed to send his heart into overdrive.

“What was that, Captain?” You teased.

He gave you a look of warning, though it wasn't anywhere near as serious as he was pretending.

“Loth-cat got your tongue?” You purred, your eyes flicking down to his lips and back up again.

Rex was being driven insane. He tried to remind himself that you were just pretending, in a little game that he had suggested, no less, but that was doing little to quell the desire he felt for you.

“You know, if that loth-cat could be so kind as to give it back, I'm sure we could find another use for it” You spoke quietly, your gaze intense as you said the most daring line yet.

Your heart was pounding in your chest, the alcohol in your system having loosened your lips, but your nerves were far from durasteel. You realised how close you had really got to him then, your leg pressed into his as your hand rested on his thigh, your mouth maybe an inch from his.

Rex spoke your name in a low tone. It sounded breathless, but like some sort of warning nonetheless. You maintained your composure as you drew away from him, as if to act like nothing was wrong, like you hadn't crossed a line.

“So, how'd I do?” You asked nonchalantly. You could feel your cheeks burning, so far from feeling calm and relaxed like you tried to appear.

Rex took a moment to come back to himself. He had been so completely lost in the moment, and though he kept trying to remind himself, he had forgotten it was supposedly all to help you learn how to flirt. His heart ached a little at the full realisation of that fact.

“Uh-” Rex cleared his throat, “Yeah, that was good”

“Any pointers?”

“Nope” Rex said, a little too quickly, and looked towards the bar, “You should get going if you want to catch her alone”

You brows drew together in confusion for a second, then you followed his line of sight to the woman, who still stood at the bar. Suddenly the prospect didn't seem as exciting.

“Right, yeah” You struggled to get a smile back onto your face, and you were sure it must've looked more like a grimace. “Wish me luck” You added, slinking out from the booth you both inhabited.

You didn't wait for his reply, you were honestly too mortified by the whole ordeal. Maker, what were you thinking? At least now speaking to this woman wouldn't be the scariest thing you did this evening.

Rex watched you walk up to the woman with the utmost confidence and begin talking to her as if it was the easiest thing in the world. He couldn't help the twist of jealousy in his gut as she seemed to respond to your advances, and the two of you settled into a conversation. Though soon enough, the woman looked towards him and pointed, which made you turn and look at him. He had no idea what was going on, but luckily you trudged back to the table to let him know shortly thereafter.

“She wasn't into girls” You grumbled, slouching back into the booth.

“Ah, I'm sorry about that” Rex said as honestly as he could. He meant it, in certain ways. He couldn't imagine what it would feel like to be rejected for that reason, so he did feel for you, but he would be lying to say he was sad that you stopped flirting with someone else.

Rex desperately wanted all of your attention on him again, the way he did just minutes ago. You were almost as close as you had been before, your knee almost touching his, but it wasn't enough.

“Eh, it's fine. She was nice about it at least” You shrugged. “She was pretty interested in you though” You added with a small smirk, looking over at Rex to gauge his reaction.

“Oh” He seemed a little surprised, “Really?”

You nodded, “I think she wanted you to go over”

“Uh…” Rex frowned a little, his eyes flicking towards the woman and back to you, “I'm good. It's like I said, not my type”

“If you say so” You rolled your eyes a little, “What even is your type then?”

Rex gave you a weary look, a small smile blooming, “I'm gonna keep that to myself”

“Why? You have a thing for Wookiees or something?” You teased with a grin.

Then it was Rex's turn to roll his eyes, “I'm not even going to dignify that with an answer”

“I'm going to believe it until you give me a different answer” You crossed your arms, a smirk taunting him.

Rex just watched you for a moment, weighing in his mind how bad it would really be to just come out and confess to the way he truly felt about you. In some ways, even if you didn’t feel the same way, it would feel better to just get it off his chest. Then he could maybe stop thinking about you when it served him well not to. Like in the middle of missions. That was really quite irritating.

He settled on, “I think my type is women who don’t want me”

“Yeah, you and me both” You laughed, and Rex just gave an apologetic look which you ignored, “But something tells me you're lying”

“Lying about what?”

“That women don’t want you” You said as if it was obvious.

Rex gave you a strange look, “It's really that hard to believe?”

“Yeah, I mean-” You hesitated, and you couldn't help but think it would've been less obvious to just say it confidently, “You're a nice guy, and you're good looking, what's not to like, right?”

“I'm good looking?” Rex repeated, one of his eyebrows raised.

“Alright, I said it once, don't make me say it again” You rolled your eyes to brush off the question, “Anyway, who's this girl that doesn't like you back then?”

Rex huffed, looking away from you and tracing his finger around the top of his cup, “No one, you wouldn't know her”

Your heart sunk a little, despite Rex's assertion that this woman didn't return his affections.

“Alright well why are you under the impression that she doesn’t like you?” You asked, leaning forwards onto your elbows.

“Um…” Rex tried to think of a good reason, “I'm not sure, we're good friends so it's kinda tough”

“Well have you ever actually expressed that kind of interest in her?”

Rex cast a glance over at you, “No, not exactly”

You let out a short disbelieving laugh, “Well why not? How can you expect her to know you like her if you don't even show it”

Hearing those words coming straight from your mouth only drove home how stupid he was coming to realise his actions had been.

“I'm not sure, I don’t know what I could say at this point” He shrugged, looking back into his almost empty cup.

You rolled your eyes once more, “You could just tell her you like her”

“It's not that easy” Rex sighed. It was strangely therapeutic to actually talk about it, but it was definitely a little strange to be talking to you about it.

“Why not?”

Rex didn't reply, and you watched him with interest as he chewed on his bottom lip, his finger tracing his cup again. He looked particularly deep in thought.

“Okay well, what could you say then?” You changed your approach.

“I don't know” Rex huffed and looked up at you with some kind of thoughtful expression, “Maybe you could help”

You frowned a little, “But I don't know her…?”

“Right, but…” Rex paused, “If it was you, and someone was trying to show you that they liked you, what would be good to say, or do”

“Um…” You took a moment to look away and think.

Rex took note of the look of concentration on your face and his heart swelled a little, touched that you were taking this so seriously.

“I suppose… Maybe you'd want to get a little more physically intimate with them? you can kinda test the waters that way” You said, “Nothing crazy, just some quick touches, gets them thinking about it you know? If they respond positively to that then maybe try some more lingering touches”

“Ok, got it” He said assuredly, and, following your instructions, reached over and pushed some of your hair off of your face and behind your ear.

He could hear your breath catch in your throat, and fought to keep the smirk from his face. Your eyes widened a little, and he silently took great satisfaction in it. It seemed that you had responded positively to it, which boded well, according to you.

“What then?” Rex asked, keeping his tone light and acting clueless.

“Um, then…” You began slightly nervously, “I suppose you could give them some little compliments every now and then, or observations you make about them, to show you pay attention to the small things”

“You give really good advice, you know that?” Rex asserted, leaning his head into his hand and looking at you intently.

You were absolutely frozen. Was he meaning to do this? Or was it somehow just coincidence that he seemed to be following your instructions.

“Go on” He urged, moving his leg so that his knee rested against yours, “What after that?”

You took a shallow breath, “Maybe you could… try to spend some more time with them just one-on-one, or just try to be around them more. You know, give them your full attention. If you're friends already that shouldn't be too hard”

“Okay, I can do that” Rex said in reply.

He slung his arm over the back of the booth, now facing you and locking you into his gaze. It was electrifying, and the concentrated and adoring look in his eyes was something you could definitely get used to.

“What next?” He reminded you to continue.

“Uh, I- I'm not sure, maybe something will happen in that time” You shrugged, finding it hard to maintain eye contact with him.

Rex hummed thoughtfully, and placed his hand gently on your knee, lightly tracing his thumb over your skin, “What might happen?”

There was no way this was coincidence.

“Whatever you want” You murmured without giving it much prior thought, causing Rex's eyebrows to raise.

“Is that right?” He asked in a low voice, almost asking for confirmation that you understood it was you that he was interested in, that he was getting you to help in winning over yourself.

You nodded, not speaking for fear that it would just be an undignified squeak.

“Well, if that's the case…” He spoke with a smirk.

He then slowly slid his hand up your outer thigh, his eyes still locked with yours, and he pulled you towards him and onto his lap so that you were straddling his legs. Your breath had been stolen from you, and you let your hands rest against Rex’s chest as you looked up at him with wide eyes.

“Is this okay?” He asked quietly, his hands resting on your hips as he made sure.

“More than” You confirmed breathlessly, and his lips quirked into a half-smile, half-smirk.

“Good” He whispered, brushing his nose against yours, “Because I think this is a little overdue”

The feel of his lips against yours far superseded anything you had ever imagined, and it was something that you had thought about a lot. Though now, with it actually happening, your mind was empty, drained of thoughts and letting him take over everything.

His lips captured yours with a passion that had been long held back, and it was clear that he was done being secretive about it. He needed you to know just how long he had wanted this, how much he desired you. His hands held you hips firmly, fighting the urge to pull you into him further as you snaked your hand around his neck and deepened the kiss. You ran your fingernails gently down the back of his neck, and he shivered in response, his grip on you tightening.

When you pulled back, you rested your forehead against his to regain the breath that had been so fervidly taken from you. When you opened your eyes and met his, you both started to laugh. It was almost too good to be true, and equally baffling that it was happening, after being just friends for so many years.

Rex grinned at you, shrugging a shoulder, “Like I said, a bit overdue”

“I'd say more than a bit” You argued with a wide smile.

Rex chuckled, “I mean, I have been waiting years, so yeah. More than a bit”

You rolled your eyes affectionately, pushing his shoulder a little, “Why didn't you say anything?”

“Why didn’t you?” He challenged.

You pursed your lips, “Hm. Touché”

“Doesn't matter now” Rex said in a murmur, and brought his lips to yours once more.

This kiss was much more reserved. Ardent but quick, an evident deep affection being shared. You missed the feeling of it immediately, chasing after his lips when he pulled away.

“Hey now, no need to be so eager” Rex chuckled teasingly.

You gave him a mock frown and a small irritated whine, and he laughed again.

“All in good time Mesh'la” He spoke smoothly, one hand coming to rest against your cheek, “Why don't we get out of here? We could even test out some of those other uses for my tongue”

Your eyes widened, remembering your earlier words, and then a small victorious smirk wound its way onto your face, “I think that sounds like a good idea”

[fraugwinska]

Week 2 everyone! Following Hazel's amazing Body Worship featuring our beloved king of hell, we'll continue this week in the same sentiment - Can there be really enough Lucifer x Reader stories?

Dont miss out on the wonderful works of our kinky coven: @hazelfoureyes @minkdelovely @sugoi-writes @macabr3-barbi3 @synamartia

Check out our Masterlist for Kinktober (A big thank you to the marvellous Syn - who also made out Banners!)

Warnings: Summoning Ritual, Manipulation and emotional Blackmail, Blood, Implied pressure for sexual acts. But with a happy end! And as usual: Minors Stay away - 🔞

"Fuck - It worked... It actually worked!"

You heard your boyfriend's voice, filled with heated excitement, but your eyes were glued to the glowing pentagram before you. That shouldn't be happening - this was supposed to be a silly game, a little make-pretend. You had felt bad, after denying him, again, what he had asked you so many times before. "Come on baby," he had begged, and while you liked him well enough, you hadn't been together for long and something in you told you to wait for you two to cross the border of having sex - It would be your first time, and fuck if people would call you prude, but giving it away meant something to you. It had to feel right. Be with the right person. And you and him weren’t there yet. So you had, hesitantly, agreed to his roleplay idea. You thought it was a bit excessive - the props he gathered, the seriousness in which he had chanted some silly things in latin - all while tying your hands and feet together in what you had thought would be just a dumb game of Fake summoning a demon to spice things up.

But this glowing portal was real, as was the euphoria so tangible in his voice. This hadn't been a game - he had planned this.

Through the bright, golden glow stepped a man - at least you thought it was a man. Lean and regal, dressed in a white, luxurious coat that strangely resembeled a circus director he shifted out of the light into your boyfriend's living room. His blonde hair shimmered in the fading glow and for once, you could see his face in full - And it was terrifyingly beautiful. Golden locks framed his burning red irises, two blush circles sat on the edges of his mouth that was pulled into a face of disdain.

Your boyfriend didn't even acknowledge your trembling whimpers, he just stepped forward, dropping the dagger he had used to prick your finger and let your blood drip on a strange book. "Lord Lucifer... It's an honor to..."

"Cut the Lord-crap, mortal. What the hell is this?" the blonde interrupted him, eyes widening at the sight of your bound and shivering body. He glanced from the dagger to the book to the young man before him and folded his arms. Your heart almost jumped out of your chest. That idiot actually summoned the literal devil? The fallen angel, the king of hell? What was he thinking?

"I've summoned you, Lor... Lucifer, to offer you a virgin in exchange for my own immortality!" His words made you whip your head around. Surely, you must've heard wrong. "Wh-what are you doing?" you asked in a rush of bubbling panic, fighting against the rope that held your arms together. Cold eyes met your pleading ones, and the hope that this would all turn out to be a joke faded completely.

"Sorry, Babe, but this is an opportunity I won't miss out on. You wanted to stay a virgin - and this way, I get something out of it."

"Okay, wait - just so that I get this correctly..." Lucifer stepped in, his eyes darting in disbelief between you and the caster of this wretched summoning ritual, his brows deeply furrowed. "You're offering your girlfriend to me? Are you serious?" His question was met with a hesitant nod, the sight making your stomach drop. The way he tricked you, the way he talked about you, the way he was casually offering you to a literal demon, as if he were selling some worthless thing when he was supposed to love and respect you - Everything inside you felt heavy with hurt and regret. Sure, you couldn't have said it was love you had felt for him - but you thought he'd at least care about you the way you had cared about him. Apparently, you were horribly wrong. Tears dripped silently down your cheeks and you wished for someone, anyone to help.

"I swear she is untouched, my lord, and even if she is plain and not quite the looker, she.."

"You humans are..." Lucifer's voice was filled with cold disgust as he searched for words. Finding none that would suffice, he just snapped his fingers, and you felt as if the air was sucked out of the room. Everything stood still, the fire of the candles in the room didn't move, the hands of the clock, even your boyfriend was frozen in place mid-gesture. Only his pupils shifted to the blonde in a panic, meeting the devil's angry stare. Lucifer shook his head, then he tore his eyes away from him and looked at you, instantly softening and with a pinch of pity as he slowly walked over to you. You flinched when he stretched out his hand, but he stopped and gave you a gentle smile.

"It's okay, doll, I'm not gonna do anything. Just getting rid of those ropes, okay?"

You nod, the wet streaks on your face cold and itchy. Small, delicate hands reach around your wrists, and within a blink the ties disappear. You quickly wipe your face and touch the bruised skin, cautiously rubbing the scratches as Lucifer unties your feet. "There, that's better, right?"

"What... what is happening?" you stutter, not daring to look directly at him, still overcome with the bizarreness of the situation. "Why has everything stopped.. moving?"

Lucifer huffs, offering you his hand and, after you hesitantly took it, pulled you up to stand. "I froze time. That asshole who dares to call himself your boyfriend pissed me off and that's one sure way to keep his rotten mouth shut." He cups your cheek, his hand is warm and soft and so gentle you almost lean in, and lets his thumb wipe away the remaining wet trails of salt, but a fresh flow of tears blur your vision. You struggle for words, but nothing but weak sobbing makes it out of your constricted throat. "I... I can't believe he..."

"I know, angel. I wish I could say he's an exception... but as you might suspect, I've known humanity and the endless depth of their deprivation for a while..." He sighs, stepping away from you. "What I can promise you is that I'm not going to hurt you. That dumb motherfucker might've summoned me correctly - but he sure as hell didn't read the fine print too closely." Lucifer grinned, for the first time this night he actually looked like the devil he was - and you were enraptured at the sight. "The one who offers the blood is the one who bargains a deal with me. And since he was too chicken to spill his own, that means it's you, doll." He laughs, crossing his arms, tilting his head to watch your boyfriend's eyes dart frantically through the room.

"So, it's up to you. Is there anything you want?"

You swallow, the heat of Lucifer's palm still lingering on your cheek and the betrayal burning deep in your guts.

"I..." you say, as if in trance, guided by the hurt and anger and that strange pull towards the demon, "I want to humiliate him. I want to make him regret what he wanted to do..." Lucifers gaze turned into something sinister and dangerous, and you quickly added "Without killing him. I don't want to... be like him."

The devil looks surprised, almost impressed, before he steps towards you once more, taking your hand and kissing it, an impish smile on his divine lips that made his features even more beautiful. "Mh, I do have an idea how we can arrange that. Just remember: You hold the reins to stop whenever you want to stop."

Before you could ask what he means, his mouth travels up your arm and to the crook of your neck, leaving kisses along its trail. Your whole skin breaks out in shivers, a gasp escapes you as you feel your cheeks flush and a heat pool in between your legs. His hands find their way onto your hips, resting instead of pulling, a gesture of such thoughtfulness and respect you could’ve wept and you feel yourself lean into him as he licks along your jawline. It feels daring, it feels strange and yet so alluring you can't help but sink deeper into that warm embrace. Whatever had held you back to give yourself to your now ex-boyfriend - it was nonexistent in the arms of this demon, and wasn't that a travesty? But then again... Lucifer was the personification of temptation afterall.

When he finally kisses you, it's like fireworks exploding in your head. The way his lips gently close around yours, the warmth and sweetness of his mouth, his skillful tongue parting them so effortlessly to slither around your own in playful circles, letting you taste him as he tasted you - there was nothing you could have imagined that would've compared to the intensity that a simple kiss from him conveyed. It wasn’t forced, like it always felt with your boyfriend, but an invitation, with no reproach if you’d decline it. 

"Lucifer.. please..." you breathe as you reluctantly break the kiss, overheated and desperate for air. Your hands act on their own, with a feverish urgency, down to the buckle of his pants. But Lucifer, his smile wide and sultry, caught them, pulling them up and around his shoulders with an almost scolding shake of his head.

"Oh no, angel, the only one that's gonna be worshiped tonight is you." He lifts you up with ease, drawing a little yelp out of you, and moves swiftly as he clears the living room table to spread you out on it, kneeling in between your legs. You're quivering with a hot, bubbling anticipation and even through your lust-dazed mind you still catch Lucifer's wicked glance and the mocking smirk in the direction of your ex-boyfriend.

Slowly, he pushed your white dress up exposing pale, supple skin. The devil's hands explored your thighs, every brush and caress making you writhe as the ache to be touched becomes stronger with every uncovered inch of flesh, and by the time he starts to slowly, achingly work his fingers around your hips, you're already squirming for him, begging him for any kind of friction.

"I'm gonna carve prayers onto your body, my angel," he breathes against the sensitive inside of your thigh, littering it with tiny pecks before he bites down, sharply enough to leave a red mark - it pulls a moan out of you, then an aroused sigh as Lucifer soothingly licks over the reddened skin and slowly kisses his way towards your center. The devil delights at your little noises of want, how you whimper as he pushes your underwear aside instead of tearing it off to the side - though it wouldn't hold for long anyway. "Your body is my temple and your moans the hymns I sing to."

His words send a new kind of electric buzz straight to your cunt, you wanted to say something in return - heaven or hell knows what - but it was a useless endeavor anyway. The words were already forgotten when his tongue dipped into your waiting heat - you buck into him and it earns you a muffled hum of appreciation. Lucifer's movements were slow, languid and at the same time utterly determined. A steady rhythm as his hands found their way back to your hips, pinning you down so that all you could do was take the sweet torture and drown in the pleasure he delivered to you on a golden plate. And so you did. Every swirl of that wicked, sinful tongue drew louder noises from you, every press of his lips to your soaked pussy had your head spinning into overwhelmed euphoria.

Through the haze of your foggy eyes you catch a glimpse of the frozen man you had called 'baby' once. Shocked, unbelieving eyes fixated on you writhing under Lucifer's incomparable ministrations, being expertly eaten out by temptation itself in the form of the most beautiful being imaginable - and a moan that almost sounded like a laugh tore itself from your throat. The sudden wave of pride and morbid joy, combined with a flick of the damned forked tongue over your clit and his name spilling from your lips along with your drool has you cumming in what you could only describe as ethereal bliss - your hand finds Lucifer's hair, digging your fingers into the golden locks and holding him tightly pressed to your seeping core as the waves of your orgasm rock your hips like a boat lost on the ocean - and Lucifer, your lighthouse illuminating your way home, laps up every drop of your essence your body offers him.

By the time you were done riding out your orgasm, Lucifer's skilled tongue had cleaned every bit of the mess you had made. He pressed a soft kiss on your puffed lips, before slowly pulling away onto his knees to look at you, wiping his mouth and watching you with hooded, smoldering eyes.

"Look at you, angel. Only a mortal fool would call something so ethereal as you 'plain'."

Lucifer stands up and leans over to brush the back of his hand softly over your cheek until his fingers rest under your chin, lifting your head ever so slightly to kiss you once more before he turns to your ex. His posture changes, his shoulders straighten and his features become sharp and almost threatening. You try to sit up, body still weak post-orgasm, as you watch him sprout two twisted, fiery horns from his head and three sets of blinding white and red wings from his back. The room is slowly filled with a light like the inside of a fire - you faintly hear a muffled, horrified scream from the immobilized figure behind you, but you couldn't care less. Your sole focus is him - the fallen angel and ruler of hell.

"Remember that you deserve nothing less than what you received tonight, doll."

"Lucifer..." is all you get to say before he spreads his wings and the world turns white.

You shot up, the blanket over your legs falling from the sofa you push yourself up on. The room was quiet and dim, only the light from a few candles making rough shadows dance on the walls. You panted, as if waking up from an intense dream, strands of your hair glued to your neck and cheeks from the sweat. Your head whipped around calling his name, but your boyfriend is nowhere to be found. For a moment, you questioned your sanity when you felt something tickling your thigh. You shifted and reached under you, and your mouth pulled into a wistful smile as you brought the soft, white feather you found to your lips for a longing, bittersweet kiss.

[theautisticwriter]

Love Letters: Yandere! Helluva Boss characters X G/N Reader

Characters- Blitzø, Moxxie, Millie, Loona, Stolas, Asmodeus, Fizzarolli

Show- Helluva Boss

Genre- romantic, yandere

Summary- Mini love letters from your not so secret stalkers admirers!

Warnings- swearing, pet names, yandere themes, mentions of planned kidnapping, stalking, delusional characters, unwanted attention

Word count- 1.5K

Extra notes- I have a Hazbin Hotel version of this uploaded as well!

key: f/l = first letter of your name, y/n = your name, n/n = your nickname

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By this point you know who it is y/n, I’m the only person COOL enough to send u romantic as fuck letters like the old people do

Sorry for eating the food u made last night, when i was raiding ur fridge it looked so fucking good (and it was, who knew u could cook :P). i left u a pony as a replacement, u can’t eat it but it’ll make u think of me ;) and that pony cost me a FUCK ton of money, collectors addition and shit. i know, bad fucking ass right??

the stupid shitty loud alarm u installed didn’t work when i came in, ud be much safer with me and loony. that’s the plan anyways babe, u have NO idea the fucking creeps that live down here, they’re all fucking animals and ur…not, a fucking asshole i guess.

i drew you smth (it’s the thing stuck on the back of the envelope with the glitter glu)

^glue

it’s me and u holding hands, like other couples do. we’re better than those corny fuckers tho, hence the crowns on our heads.

ignoring my texts, BLOCKING ME (still upset about this BY THE WAY) and then ignoring my very nice letters is kinda a dick move f/l, but it’s whatevs. everything is almost ready for ur move in. i cleaned up n everything :D

from the only bitch worth ur time,

blitzø

<3 (ignore that, moxxie threw a gun at me and my hand slipped, might fire him)

———————————————————

Hiya sweet cheeks!!!

It’s Mills here, just checking in! Via letter! Ain’t that just the fanciest little thing? Mox said it’s the best way to show thought and care to someone, so here’s all my thoughts and care, just for you!

How’ve you been? Good I hope, I’ve been just peachy thanks for asking! My Ma and Pa are super excited to meet ya one day, they’ve even started planning the wedding! Now I told them to slow their horses down, and not the overwhelm ya, we’ll get to that don’t you worry darlin.

Im just so excited to write this letter for you! Ain’t it so romantic?? I’m practically squealing in delight at the thought of you opening this and swoonin’, that’s what you’re doing, right?

Now i’m writing this on my break, and my boss really needs me back in the game! I got employ of the month! Most amount of kills, with the best and bloodiest results baby!

Until next time sweetheart,

Your Mills! ♡

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Hi y/n,

It’s Moxxie here, I was a little nervous to send this letter to you, but I always try to follow my heart, and my heart was telling me to communicate with you in the most romantic way I know how due to our current circumstances of being so far away. It’s hard, for the both of us i’m sure, but we’ll be okay y/n.

As much as I don’t get along with my father, he has been helpful with my preparations for your arrival. It’s a big deal, moving in together. I’m sure your anxious, I am too, but in the best way possible. Love is pure, and can make somebody feel whole, it’s a wonderful feeling. I never want that to be taken away from me, and you are the source of all my love. That’s why we need to be together, being only half a demon isn’t good for the soul.

We can do lots of fun things together as well, like go to the opera, or to musicals, or I can show you my shooting skills. My boss says that I have a pretty good shot, which is the biggest compliment he’s ever given me. And we can do things you like too, marriage is equal of course. Obviously, this will all happen later done the line, you’ll need time to adjust, and I understand that. I understand you.

I’m running out of room on my page, but I will write to you again tomorrow. Please respond? Just once, y/n? It’d be nice, to hold something from you since I can’t hold you yet.

All my love,

Your Moxxie <3

———————————————————

Uh, hi?

Wait, you don’t put ‘uh’ in letters do you? Or put wait whilst you think, fuck shit fuck

Sorry, I’m new to this. Normally I just send a text to people but, your phone is off at the moment I think? Or you lost it? Or you blocked me?

Either way, I’ll send you these stupid letter things until it’s back on. So, uh, what are you up to? Blitz has been up my ass about meeting you, heads up, when I come get you and bring you to our room he’s gonna go all psycho dad mode and integrate you, but he’ll back off after a while. He’s a dick sure, but he does want me to be happy. And your, likeable or whatever, so i’m sure you’ll get along.

Once you get comfortable at home with me, Blitz said you could work with me at I.M.P. You’ll be like the co-secretary or something. You won’t be put in danger, I won’t let that happen, you’ll just get to sit with me. We can watch things together, if you wanted.

I guess i’ll see you soon, how do you end these?

See you,

Love from,

Regards?

Bye y/n,

Loona.

———————————————————

My dearest y/n,

I hope this letter finds you well. I yearn for your presence here, besides me. It’s quite lonely without you, I will admit my dear. It would be oh so wonderful if you could write back. I understand you may be preoccupied with your current activities, but I can’t help myself from desiring a response. I know, it’s selfish of me to expect you to reply to my letters when you’ll be here with me shortly, but I can’t keep my thoughts at bay at the moment.

Your face is a constant in my mind, night and day, asleep and awake, your voice in my mind calms me when I need it most, your smile brightens the bleariest of moments and so on. You can imagine the difficulties I’m facing with no response from you, but that’s alright. If you can’t write back to me dear, I won’t pressure you. Your time is precious, and we will have all the time in hell quite soon. Isn’t that exciting?

I can give you the life you deserve n/n, any luxuries or mundanities you wish for will be handed to you on a silver platter. Or a golden one, if that’s more to your liking? We can properly discuss the specifics once we are together. How thrilling, the though of you and I together at last.

We truly are written in the stars!

Yours until the end of the sky and then some,

Stolas.

———————————————————

Hey there baby,

It’s been a while, huh? I’m sorry if you feel neglected babe, it’s so hard keeping in contact with you when you’re so far away hun. Wouldn’t it be so much better if you were here with me? Sure I’ve got a lot of meetings, being a sin and all, but I’d be at your beck and call n/n, you could even be my new excuse to leave those awful “business” discussions. They barely talk business with me, it’s just complete bullshit babe.

I know the lust ring can be intimidating, we have quite the reputation, but I assure you, love is not a foreign concept to me. Romance is one of my most favourite things! Though that’s a secret, let’s keep that between us, yeah? That side of me is reserved for you n/n.

It’s so boring over here without you, I feel like i’m just lounging around and last time I checked, I was the lust sin, not the sloth sin. We’d have so much fun together babe! Can’t you picture it? Even if you can’t yet, I can wait. Having you near me will be enough, you are enough just as you are.

Sincerely yours,

Asmodeus (Ozzie) xoxo

———————————————————

Heya cutie!

Letters are a lot harder to write than I thought they’d be y’know? I’ve rewritten this like 16 times already, sheesh. It just feels so awkward, I can’t see your reaction to my words which means I can’t fix any mistakes I’ve made :(. I’m sure I haven’t made any though! Right? This letters going really well so far and is definitely wooing you, right, y/n?

Hah, I’m asking questions as if you can reply right away. Silly old me, I don’t know what i’m worrying about! We’re meant to be together. I know it’s super sappy, but we’re like soulmates. Soulmates are bound to be together! That’s why I’m bringing you home soon, I can’t wait! I’ve got sooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo many awesome tricks to show you!

And, the best news, I quit my job!! ༘⋆-ˋˏ ༘⋆-ˋˏ This means, we will have a LOT more time with each other, and you don’t have to worry about Mammon being possessive over me, because fuck him! I’m my own clown! Or, well, your clown.

I can’t wait to see you! This is going to be great for us, I pinky promise :P

Love from,

Fizzarolli !!!! ༘⋆!!,-!ˋˏ!!!

———————————————————

[webshooterrr9]

Seven Minutes in Heaven with Gojo Satoru

college!gojo x gn!reader (no description of reader's features)

w.c: 1.4k words

content warning: college au, suggestive, they make out, reader is sassy as always, they get interrupted at the end :(

just a little drabble cuz im rewatching jjk

You weren't sure what to expect when the bottle landed on you. Hell, you weren't even sure why you agreed to play this game. The only person you knew at this party was the host, Shoko. She briefed you earlier on some of her friends who'd be attending - including the guy who just spun the bottle - but you weren't really listening. You recognized him, though. There wasn't anyone else here with white hair and a blindfold.

"Guess it's you two," some guy said. "Have fun."

You shrugged and made your way to the empty closet where you'd be spending your 'seven minutes in heaven'... with Gojo Satoru. You had heard of his reputation of being somewhat of a ladykiller, but you'd rather see for yourself.

The two of you sat down on opposite sides of the closet, but it was still cramped. After the door closed, the only light illuminating the shadows was the one peeking from underneath the door. The two of you sat silently for a minute, since you didn't really know each other at all.

"So... you're stuck with me, hm?" he grinned slightly in the dark space. He sat crisscross maybe three feet in front of you.

"I guess." you say, crossing your arms. "You're stuck with me, too."

He chuckled a little. "Yeah, you don't look bad though." His eyes were glued to you, although you couldn't really tell due to his blindfold. Even still, you could feel the weight of his stare - as if he was analyzing you. He uncrosses his long legs, stretching them out to either side of you.

"You're a fucking tower." you comment, keeping a playful tone to try and lighten the awkward mood.

He laughs. "Yeah, I guess so. You ever played this before?"

You shake your head. "Nah, but I know what it's about. It's just a little weird sitting here with a stranger."

Satoru nods understandingly. "Yeah, this game gets a little awkward when you're stuck with someone as stunning as me." he teased.

"Oh fuck off." you laugh, nudging his leg. "You aren't nearly as attractive as you think you are."

He gasps dramatically before letting out a little "hmph!" and pouting. You roll your eyes with a smile. "I mean, you aren't ugly - just don't get cocky. It's not about that."

He regains his smirk. "If it isn't my charming good looks, then what's got you so uncomfortable, hm?"

"I dunno, it's just weird. Being in a cramped closet with someone I barely know isn't exactly my idea of fun. No offense."

"None taken, sweetheart." he leans forward, now only about a foot away from you. "Why'd you even come to this party, then?"

You shrug, "Well, I know Shoko. But other than that, I don't really know anyone here. I only know who you are because she's talked about you."

Satoru's eyebrows raise in curiosity. "Oh?" he tilts his head with a bit of a smirk. "What has she said about me?"

"Nothing special. Just that you're annoying." you watch as he gasps once more, leaning back and feigning offense. His theatrics make you giggle - just a little.

"How rude, you don't even know me! You're not even giving me a chance."

"Do I need to?" you tease, crossing your arms over your chest. "I think your behavior right now says enough."

He huffs and there's a brief pause. You study his face, well, as much as you can in the dark. His outfit is pretty bland other than the fabric partially covering his face. "What's with that blindfold anyway? Can you even see through that thing?"

"Yeah, I can see just fine." he reaches up to adjust it, fidgeting with the cotton a bit as he speaks. "Why? Do you think it looks stupid?"

You shake your head. "No, it looks fine. I just don't see the point. If you're as hot as you think you are, I don't see why you'd want to hide your eyes from people."

"Well not everyone can handle seeing these beauties." he grins, leaning back in to where he was before.

"Yeah? Why don't you take it off, then? Lemme see for myself."

He laughs, accepting the challenge. "How impatient. You just can't wait to see how gorgeous my eyes are, huh?" He slowly lifted his blindfold off of his head with his long, slender fingers. His vibrant blue eyes pierced through yours, even in the dark. They were pretty, sure, but nothing too crazy.

"Cute." you say once you're satisfied with examining his face. "Although I'm still not sure why you wanted to hide them."

As embarrassing as it was to admit, Gojo's heart skipped a few beats when you called him cute. He'd been described by a variety of things before: handsome, hot, sexy, etc. But being called 'cute' was new. He huffed again, disappointed with your underwhelming response to his beautiful face. He shifted a little closer to you, dropping the blindfold beside him. "Just cute? Nothing else?"

The wall behind you stopped you from leaning back, keeping the distance between you two as minimal as possible. "Yeah, just cute." You see him grin slyly, and you raise an eyebrow. "Wanna tell me why you've decided to get so close?"

"Just wanted to get a closer look at you, that's all." His head was tilted as he took in your features again. You just kept getting prettier - and the sass didn't help. He reached out and booped your nose. "You're pretty cute, too."

You boop him back. "Thanks." a small laugh escapes you, leaving behind a smile. You take a glance at your phone. "Only a few minutes left, then we can get out of this closet."

He got all pouty, using his newly-revealed eyes to enhance the effect. "Aw, why do you wanna get out so fast? It was just getting fun."

"Because that's the game, Gojo." you laugh. "We only have seven minutes, not that hard to understand. Not like there's anything to do in here anyway."

He scooted closer once more, his knees knocking into yours, leaving only a few inches between you two. "Well... there's always one thing we could do," he mumbled, a smirk on his face.

"Yeah? And what's that?"

"Oh, c'mon, don't be dense. You're smart enough to figure it out." Satoru's tone was low, his eyes drifting down your face.

"Maybe." Of course you knew what he was implying - you knew what this game was about when you agreed to play it. But you wanted him to cut the act and stop playing coy. "But you gotta say it, or else I'm not doing anything."

"You want me to say it out loud, hm?" his smile widened and his knee now slotted between your legs.

"Yup. Or we aren't getting anywhere. Say it with your chest."

Gojo rolled his eyes, but your stubbornness amused him. He tilted his head, his lips now just barely ghosting over your ear. "I wanna kiss you," he whispered, trying to keep his composure so as not to sound desperate. "But you're making it very difficult to do so."

That earns a giggle from you. "Aw, poor you." You grab his jaw and shift his head so that he's looking at you directly. His eyes widen, going speechless for a moment. "I guess we'll just have to fix that, hm?" you hum, giving him the same smirk he's been giving you this whole time.

You plant a small kiss on his cheek before pulling away again. He froze with surprise. He tried to regain his composure, but he couldn't hide the small rosy hue that now dusted his cheeks. "You're such a tease, damnit."

"Do something about it, then."

Satoru was getting tired of this game. He mirrored your action, grabbing your chin. He pulled you closer and crashed his lips into yours. You met his affection with equal fervor, quickly sliding your arms around his neck and crawling into his lap. He hummed into the kiss, your mouths embracing like they were specifically molded for one another. You couldn't lie, despite how annoying he was, Satoru Gojo was an incredible kisser. What you didn't know was that he was thinking the same thing about you.

He groans as you run your hands along his neck, all the way up to his undercut. Your hips grind down onto his lap and the two of you make out with the rush of a couple of inexperienced teenagers. Satoru's hands find your hips, pulling you impossibly closer to him while your tongues meld together.

Much to your dismay, just as your kiss was starting to heat up into something better, the door swung open - the hallway light cascading into the room.

"Time's up, lovebirds!"

sorry for ending it LMAO

i'm just evil like that >:)

[saerins]

─── 𝐄𝐅𝐅𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐄𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐓

+ nagi seishiro x f!reader | wc 3.2k | content: fluff, ngl i was too lazy to proof this, childhood friends to lovers, canon-compliant (i tried), yn’s parents are just bad

notes: me ?? writing someone other than sae ?? wild . but it’s my first try at nagi so pls have mercy :’) feedbacks/reblogs appreciated !! <3

summary: it’s a little more difficult for nagi to realise his feelings compared to the average man.

i. fleeting moment

nagi seishiro was your first kiss, age ten on the swings of your backyard.

you’re only friends by chance. he was a loner on the swings in the public playground and you have a habit of picking up strays. (but until then, it had been limited to animals and not humans.)

yeah, yeah, maybe having a first kiss at the young age of ten is a little alarming, but it’s not like nagi is a bad person. if anything, he was just trying to shut you up. probably, maybe. (and it wasn’t with tongue, if anyone needs the specifics.)

“if you keep crying that loudly i won’t be able to hear my game,” nagi grumbled, eyes glued to his screen. apparently he was playing some pseudo horror game where four fighters run from a single hunter and apparently he needed to listen to the sounds to know when to run.

but really, you were ten and crying because some other boy bullied you in the playground, saying how you were so ugly and that no boy would ever wanna kiss you. given all of that, why would you even care about nagi’s stupid game?

if he didn’t want to be bothered, he shouldn’t have chased you all the way back home.

“but seishiro, am i really ugly?” you were ten and in need of immediate validation while nagi was in need of your immediate silence.

he didn’t even look up. “that’s subjective.”

even when he was young he had a smart mouth that would be able to break you.

“well then what do you think?” because honestly, even at that point, you thought nagi seishiro was handsome; he was the face claim you used to imagine all your scenarios at night before you went to sleep.

he was your knight in shining armor, coming to break you free from the cage which was your life and obligations. he was your prince charming who’d rescue you above all else. heck, sometimes he was mario and you were princess peach.

seishiro groaned when the screen shows game over and honestly, he really did think it was all your fault because he couldn’t hear anything over your incessant wailing. but then he looked at you for the first time after you cried and had the recurring thought that he didn’t want to be the reason for you to keep on crying.

“yeah, you’re pretty.”

and he puts his lips on yours like it’s no big deal.

ii. unreciprocated

fifteen is when you’re most rebellious. it’s a sickness you get from none other than mikage reo.

your family and the mikages go way back. they’d been family friends for such a long time. a part of you feels it’s not genuine, blinded by the fact that they’re always business partners and everything else stemmed from that one simple fact.

you started to play hooky from business dinners, started to say fuck off to rude old geasers who truly didn’t deserve a single dime they got.

all you ever got in return was your father’s temper and your mother’s cowardice and reo’s praises. most of all you at least had nagi’s shoulder to cry on. (he’s learned to bring along his earpiece just in case he had to meet you or accidentally bumped into you.)

“they all sicken me,” was what reo told you when you asked about his family in relation to their business. you could sympathise. sometimes all you could feel from your parents were that they treated you as a next-in-line rather than just daughter. and almost everyone around you made you feel like you were just a moneybag.

what reo felt shouldn’t have been too far off. except you thought he had it better; at least all his parents did was try to spoil him while not-so-subtly training him up to be the next ceo. he at least didn’t suffer at the hands of foul tempers and verbal abuse.

no one should have to.

“oh shit! i gotta go soon,” you realised, noticing that it was almost six and you’d made plans with nagi.

reo cocked a brow, “y/n l/n, you have other friends?”

you knew he was joking, but that didn’t stop you from landing the hardest punch you could on his arms. “hey, i’m not that inept at socialising okay?”

sure, you’d started taking caution with making friends because most of them were just after one thing: money. even at this age. which is crazy to you, at least, but you felt you had no right to think that. not when all the money you wanted was still at your disposal.

but you weren’t actually bad at making friends. it was just that maybe most people weren’t even worth the effort.

“they’re good to you, right?”

you took a moment to decide before you eventually nodded. “yeah, for sure.”

nagi was… weird, for you. but in the good sense. yeah, he’d open his mouth and ask you for money which at least told you he was honest. even if you rejected him, though, he was still beside you.

“man, what a hassle,” he grumbled when you wouldn’t buy any more food. he was broke, which meant he couldn’t eat anymore too if you didn’t buy some.

the two of you still never talked about that kiss. it never happened again, to your dismay.

you were a teen, and screw stupid teen hormones for driving you to ask him.

“hey sei, we’re good friends, right?”

“huh?” nagi was already fixated on his phone. probably some new game you didn’t know about. his earpieces were ready, around his neck. “uh, i guess?”

but that was not good enough for your feisty fifteen-year-old self.

“sei, i’m serious! would you be sad if one day we weren’t friends anymore?”

back then you didn’t know what you were doing. back then you didn’t think to yourself what it was, really, that you were trying to get out of him. maybe it was validation, and maybe it was just boredom.

you really just wanted to know nagi cared.

all he did was shrug, brows furrowed in annoyance. “that’s life, isn’t it? sometimes friends drift and sometimes they don’t.”

throwing wisdom around as if that was what you needed. and it was unfair to expect anything out of nagi as it was, but that didn’t stop you from throwing a tantrum and storming off.

(he watched you as you left, and there was something unsettling about the sight of your back moving so far away.)

iii. turning point

the world is small.

when you were sixteen you realised that the so called treasure reo told you he found was a human, who so happened to be your friend—nagi seishiro.

teeny tiny.

they also both happened to be picked by the JFU to go to blue lock. which you only found out after they’d both been gone for a week.

it didn’t surprise you though—they were both talented. it was only right they got picked. though, they also happened to be the only two people you would hang out with, so by default you felt lonely.

but at sixteen you’d learned to suck it up, hide your feelings. everything was okay—as long as you deceived yourself so. your parents were the same; overbearing and breathing down your neck and now that reo was not around for you and nagi couldn’t be your confidant, it felt much worse than usual.

everything was a transaction and you felt suffocated. it made you appreciate nagi’s unfiltered honesty and reo’s unwavering loyalty to whatever you dedicated yourself to.

“at least that reo boy has some other talents like that foolish soccer he plays,” your father berated over dinner. “and here my daughter is, good for nothing yet expects us to believe her when she says she can make a living outside of our company.”

and if you’d had other close friends, they would’ve told you that sixteen was too young to be sure what you wanted to do for the rest of your life. they’d have said your parents were unreasonable and that they were the fools.

but you didn’t. and the only friends you had weren’t around. so you ate it up. you clenched your fists where your parents couldn’t see and let them run their mouth. or, in your mother’s case, stay silent while your father made unreasonable arguments.

“and that nagi boy you hang out with,” your father turned his focus to him, “all he reeks of is laziness. i don’t get why you have to hang out with him all the time. inviting that oaf into our house like he’s welcome.”

that time your fists hit the table and you didn’t even expect it. it hurt because of how hard you hit but nothing could beat the hurt your father inflicted on your heart.

you found you couldn’t say anything, only because your father’s eyes were wide with rage at your outburst and you were still the same scared girl inside at age four when he first raised his voice at you.

“i-i’m sorry,” you choked out, which was pathetic but you didn’t want to end up murdered in your own house.

your father scoffed. “get your stupid head out of your ass or you’re cut off.”

the only time you could do that was when nagi and reo finally got their first break out of blue lock. you occupied their time for the most of it, listened to them going on and on about the matches that went on inside. though reo seemed a little mad at nagi, a little awkward around him, for some reason you weren’t privy to.

“i’m gonna head home first,” and reo was gone with the wave of a hand, something about having to settle something at home—probably nothing good.

maybe it was the lovestruck idiot in you talking, but you’d made peace with the fact that maybe you had a small crush on nagi seishiro, judging by how you acted around him. maybe it was that idiot that made you want to spend all of his free time together.

“guess i’ll see you tomorrow too?” sue you, you were just trying to shoot your shot.

nagi put his phone in his pocket, for once, and you were struggling to remain standing as he held eye contact with you, calm gray eyes the bane of your existence. “mmm can’t, gotta meet isagi and the rest.”

isagi, a name you’d just learned earlier—apparently nagi thought he was strong and chose his team. maybe that was why reo was mad.

“oh, okay then.” you’d ask for the next day, but you didn’t want to get rejected twice. besides, nagi would probably just prefer playing games and resting at home. you were just friends, after all.

“was thinking we could get dinner though,” nagi told you, hands in his pockets as the both of you walked down the street.

that was the first time he ever extended an effort, you remember. and suddenly life wasn’t that bad anymore.

it was also the first time nagi asked you to feed him, not because he was playing some game but on purpose.

and you didn’t know how it turned out that way, but he ended up taking up all of your time. it was the only reason you had the ability to fill him in on your family, and he actually listened. and, like reo, he said “fuck them.”

maybe that was the point you realised maybe he did care.

but for a girl at seventeen just concerned with romance and happiness, it was paradise—until of course he went back to blue lock, taking your heart with him.

(what you both failed to realise was that he left his with you.)

iv. slow realisation

in the bleachers of his first match out of blue lock, nagi seishiro spots you easily in the front row—wearing his jersey and number, when did you buy that?

doesn’t change the fact that nagi likes seeing it on you. he’s not familiar with the feeling, but it’s equivalent to saying you like him the most, which feels great if he’s honest to himself.

what he doesn’t like is the guy next to you. sharp jawline and spiky hair wearing a business suit and his raven eyes are always peeking at you out of the corner. does he like you?

but the whistle blows and nagi forgets about you for a little over ninety minutes. he’s going to show you he can win this, with you watching from the front row, and he’ll show you why he’s the best and that other guys in business suits don’t matter.

after the game reo makes a big deal out of the fact you’re wearing nagi’s jersey and not his, and nagi finds out the guy with you was someone your dad wanted to hook you up with.

twisted business marriages.

“i’m just going out with him to shut my father up,” you admit to nagi when you’re both finally alone. (aka, after you’ve convinced reo to pry him away and leave you two alone.)

nagi’s not used to this. what’s this relief he feels? “oh, good to know,” is all he says because he doesn’t even understand himself.

he isn’t even sure why he’s here in the first place, walking you home. he’s not sure why reo left when he could’ve driven all of you home instead of just mr business-suit-guy.

“how’s it feel now, to be mr popular?” you’re not even sure why you’re asking. maybe because you feel like the gap between you and nagi grew so wide in such a short period of time and you’d do anything to hear him say that he’s still the same seishiro you knew.

your seishiro.

nagi only shrugs, “dunno. don’t really feel the difference.”

because really, apart from the fact that he’s much more busy, he’s still him—playing games when he’s free, texting you because that happens to fall in the list of things he likes to do now, and well, the only difference he feels is—he takes a peek to his side—you, somehow.

not because of anything you do in particular, but he feels different somehow. and he can’t make sense of it. he never can. how’s he supposed to? no one ever warned him about shit like this.

“uh, nagi? have you ever thought that maybe you like her?” reo tells him over the phone later that night, a little baffled by the things his usually detached friend just told him.

“you like her too though,” nagi retorts.

reo sighs, wondering how nagi ever made it to where he is. “not in the same way.”

“what do you mean?”

“figure it out yourself.”

nagi hangs up, thinking he already has it figured out. he also thinks reo will keep his mouth shut.

he doesn’t.

v. requited

it’s funny how reo rushed to call you that night, right after nagi basically told him (without saying it explicitly) that he has a crush on you.

but it’s also funny how it’s been three months since then and nagi still hasn’t said anything about it. you play ignorant around him, waiting and waiting for him to admit it himself.

evidently it’s not working.

tonight you’re just watching him on the screen, cheering him on from the other side of the world because despite being from a rich family you can’t just up and leave to another country as and when you feel like it.

besides, you’ve made peace with your parents; you’d learn about the family business willingly as long as they stopped interfering with your personal life. they surprisingly agreed.

nagi and reo win, as you expected, and as usual, the cameras trail their team as they celebrate on the field, their captain having tore his shirt off to celebrate that they’d won the tournament. it’s not long before the camera pans back to nagi, a few reporters already surrounding him.

“so nagi, how do you feel right now?”

“great,” he answers, with a sexy amount of enthusiasm. he’s rarely ever enthused, but you find it so much more attractive when he is.

nagi has his phone in his hand, you notice, and you immediately fish for yours. he’d texted you right before they started hounding him.

are you watching?

you smile as you type back.

no. congrats on becoming champions! 🫶🏼

“nagi nagi, who would you like to dedicate this win to?” the reporters are all clambering to get a chance to question him.

“oh i don’t know,” nagi says, and you catch him looking at your message before looking back at the camera. “i guess i’ll dedicate this one to this girl i like.”

you nearly spit out your drink.

“wait, does this mean you’re involved with someone? tell us, who is it!”

all the reporters get excited, and understandably, since nagi’s probably just about given them the biggest scoop for the month. they’re all looking at him, money signs in their eyes, while your jaw drops open as he overshares with the entire world.

“oh, y/n l/n, she’s been my friend since forever and i don’t know… i kinda like her a lot,” he’s saying all this earnestly, a hand scratching his neck and a blush creeping on his face, though he doesn’t look the least bit fazed.

you rush to find his chat thread.

nagi, what the fuck!!!

you did NOT just say my name on live tv!!!

on the screen, he openly looks at your messages before typing a reply as the reporters hound him for more details.

oh shit, m i not supposed to?

“nagi, is she the one texting you right now?”

and like the honest guy he is, he nods. “oh yeah, think she’s mad at me right now.”

you curl up under your blanket, flustered because nagi is way too open and way too precious.

“would you like to say anything here to her now?”

nagi looks off camera and hums in contemplation before finally deciding on a response.

“hey y/n, tomorrow i’m gonna make you mine okay? so just wait for me.”

reo finally drags him away and towards the rest of his team and his interview ends there. you switch the television off, half mortified and half flattered. your phone blows up with most of your contacts gushing over what nagi said.

leave it up to nagi seishiro to have feelings for you, not realise it until years later, not tell you in the whole three months before this and yet announces it and your full name to the entire world on live television.

in spite of how flabbergasted you are, there’s a warm sensation blooming underneath your chest, a comfort that you’ve always been looking for finally fulfilled. there’s a certain endearment in the way nagi realises and professes his feelings.

you pull up his messages again.

you better keep your word, sei.

it doesn’t take him long to respond.

don’t worry, i’ll make you mine.

[currebunz]

Homecoming (Kenji Sato x Singer!Reader)

A/N: I decided to start something like a series. I'll rework a more detailed version of Captured at a later date.

Word was that Kenji Sato was returning to Japan. The sun rose, the sky was clear and the day seemed just right. Of course, you already knew he was coming back as you were the first person he told about his big move. You were excited to see your long time friend again, but things were different. You both were different. Kenji had become more boastful, the hard work he had put in paid off and he was reveling in the attention. He was a man now, not the boy you had known.

You had also changed, launching your singing career and becoming somewhat of an idol. Although you called yourself a musician and a singer, your fanbase rivaled that of idols. You remained humble, finding the spotlight to be too much and keeping your public appearances to concerts and TV programs. The contrast between you two was nearly like night and day. However, you didn’t let that concern you. All that mattered was getting to reunite with Kenji again.

Kenji had arrived the day before, but he needed some time to sort out his living situation as he told you. Not to pry, you decided to make plans with him before he started to pile on work. You called him with a video call, smiling at his sleepy expression.

“Don’t tell me jetlag kicked the Kenji Sato’s ass” you laughed.

“Yeah, yeah. You try taking a red eye half way across the world and then talk” Kenji yawned.

Even if he was a bit disheveled, he somehow made it look attractive.

“Uh huh, and who was it that said ‘the second I get off the plane we are going places?’” you asked.

“I know, I forgot about the press meeting. I’ll make it up to you somehow” Kenji sighed.

Naturally, the moment he returned to Japan the press was foaming at the mouth to get an interview with him. He had his hands tied as he couldn’t deny the publicity and the chance to look good.

“You can make it up to me with…. Okonomiyaki” you said.

“What? Okonomiyaki? You realize you are getting to chill with the Kenji Sato right? We could have anything in all of Japan! Sashimi, Fugu, Wagyu! And you want Okonomiyaki?” Kenji chuckled.

“If I wanted any of that, I’d get it myself. Besides, don’t you remember after every game we’d go out and get Okonomiyaki? You, your mom and dad, my mom’s and I would go to a local place” you began.

“Yeah, and dad would try to flip the whole thing,” Kenji sighed as he remembered.

“And all the toppings would fly off. I smelled like Bonito for three days” you laughed.

Kenji grinned, looking softer now. It made you happy seeing him like this. It reminded you of the past when he would be glued to your side.

“You think you had it bad? My uniform smelled like Okonomiyaki sauce for a week!” he laughed.

You couldn’t help but laugh, recalling the tragedy of Kenji’s baseball uniform. Thankfully, your moms helped Emiko get the scent out in time for his game. As the laughter subsided, you had a silly smile on your face as you looked at Kenji.

“Well, I still want Okonomiyaki” you said.

“Fine, how about afterward?” he suggested.

“It’s gotta be before my concert” you reminded him.

“Shit, that’s right. You have a concert tonight” Kenji hissed.

You had to resist the frown from showing on your face. Of course he had forgotten, Kenji Sato was a busy man. So busy he couldn’t keep track of your schedule, even after you shared it with him.

“It’s alright, we can do it another day. Maybe when we both aren’t so busy” you sighed.

Kenji looked a bit panicked, his steel blue eyes going wide before he cleared his throat.

“N-No, no. I want to do it as soon as possible. I mean… I want to see you. In person” he said.

You hung your head low and sighed. Honestly, hearing him say that made it hard for you to meet his eyes. You slowly raised your head and gave him a wry smile.

“Alright, we can try,” you agreed.

“Maybe Kenji Sato could get VIP backstage access to the concert and surprise you?” he smirked.

“Uh-huh, I’ll let the staff know to let you in. Just don’t make yourself at home in my dressing room. I have important things in there” you rolled your eyes at him.

“Things more important than me?” he teased.

“Oh please, you know there isn’t anything more important to me than you. Well, maybe my bass guitar” you snickered.

Kenji started laughing too, relaxed that you had forgiven him and given him another chance.

“I’ll see you tonight, you’re going to be great,” he said.

“Hit a home run at the press meeting” you said back.

The call ended there, as both of you were called away for the evening. You had been in your dressing room preparing for the concert. On a large monitor was the press meeting where Kenji was… well, himself. It made your stomach tighten over how cocky he was being. You knew it would spell trouble for him with his team. But hopefully they would see the Kenji you knew.

Or rather used to know.

“[y/n] The venue has let the audience in, we're ready to go on,” your secretary announced.

“Right, thank you Kohaku” you nodded.

The show must go on, regardless of how you felt. As you left your dressing room, you turned off the monitor, Kenji’s smirk faded to black before you turned to leave. Your mind shifted to the performance, clearing your head of any other thoughts than your songs and choreography. As you stepped onto the stage, the venue exploded in cheers.

“What a huuuuuge crowd! I think we could bring the whole venue down!” you shouted.

Your fans screamed a loud response back, not that you could really understand it.

“Let’s get this show on the road! One, two, three!” you shouted.

As the music began, the crowd sang along and cheered. It was no different from your previous concerts, everything came to you easily. You could feel yourself begin to sweat as the set list made it to the halfway point. Just as it was about to reach the point where you did your signature set, a loud alarm blasted through the venue.

“Warning, Kaiju attack” came through the speakers and on every screen.

You watched as the fans began to file out, the staff guiding them to the nearest exits. You jumped off the stage, assisting the people in barricades to take the back stage exit with your staff.

“[y/n]! We have to get going!” Kohaku called to you.

“Not until everyone is safe!” you shouted back.

You looked around for any stragglers. There was a group of teens carrying one on their shoulders. You ran over to assess the situation.

“She fell and her leg got trampled, she can’t walk” one of the teens explained.

A loud roar came from above and the ground began to shake.

“Take her through the back, follow Kohaku out” you took them as you pointed to your secretary.

The teens nodded, hurrying over to Kohaku who took on the weight of the injured teen. As you watched them leave, you hear another loud roar. Metal crunched and screeched as a huge shadow loomed over. You weren’t sure what you were seeing but it was a Kaiju for sure. And it was falling backward onto the venue.

Your legs felt stiff as you hurried to run away, just in any direction to avoid being crushed. When the Kaiju finally fell backward onto the venue, you were launched into the air. Everything went dark as you felt heavy weight on your body and pain radiating through your limbs. It hurts to breathe let alone move.

“[y/n]! [y/n]!” Kohaku called for you.

You couldn’t open your mouth, the dust and dirt surrounded you. Nearby, you saw a light stick and turned it on. You hoped the light would signal to Kohaku where you were. After a few minutes, you could hear footsteps approaching.

“Right here! I need a rescue here!” Kohaku shouted.

The debris keeping you down was removed and you were rushed to a hospital.

----

The next day, you had your arm in a sling. It wasn’t bad, but you had bruises and pulled muscles. But you weren’t cleared to do any work. You had been lucky enough that Kohaku let you still attend the TV program you had agreed to be a special guest for.

“It’s not like they are going to make me do push ups,” you sighed.

“You're injured, that is going to be a beacon for gossip,” Kohaku said.

“People are going to talk regardless, at least let me have some fun while it happens” you begged.

That was how you ended up on a chair in a TV studio waiting for the cameras to start rolling. What you didn’t expect was for Kenji to be the other special guest.

“[y/n]? You’re the other guest? This is… this is great-” he stopped when he saw your arm in a sling.

“Oh yeah, we got good chemistry so we can bounce off each other” you grinned.

But Kenji just stared at your wounded arm.

“It looks worse than it feels, I’ll live” you began.

“What happened?” he asked.

“D-Don’t worry about it” you said nervously.

Before he could press further, the host interrupted you both to start the show. You forced the best smile you could, feeling Kenji’s eyes on you. The talk show started on a humorous note as the host made puns regarding both Kenji’s and your profession. It was only a matter of time before the conversation shifted to your injury.

“That’s quite the shiner you’ve got there, wasn’t it from the Kaiju attack last night?” the host asked.

“Uh… yeah. Neronga kinda fell on the venue. These things happen” you replied.

“Talk about going out with a bang, how are you holding up?” the host asked.

“I’m fine, I just need some rest” you said.

“You should’ve rested today” Kenji scolded you.

You turned to him, keeping your lips in a thin line.

“Who knew Kenji Sato was a mother hen? Looks like he does care about something other than baseball!” the host joked at your expense.

The audience laughed but you ignored his comment.

“Anyways, the KDF took care of that monster before it could turn you into a pancake. Any thoughts about it?” the host asked.

“I mean, I’m grateful the KDF managed to take care of the situation. But Ultraman kept the fighting away from my venue. I think if the KDF had let him fight it at least the destruction would have been avoided” you answered.

Kenji stared at you, swallowing as a frown set on his features.

“But didn’t Ultraman run away? I think he bit off more than he could chew back there” the host laughed.

Cue another laugh from the audience.

“We all have our bad days, I want to believe he’ll save us next time” you argued.

You turned to Kenji, noticing he looked rather guilty.

“Don’t you think so too?” you asked.

“He snapped out of the dark thoughts swarming in his head, blinking before nodding.

“Uh yeah, sure he will,” he said with false confidence.

After the show had concluded, you started to meet up with Kohaku. You heard someone jogging behind you and already knew it was Kenji.

“Hey, can we talk for a minute?” he asked.

“What’s this about? You standing me up or not answering your phone?” you asked.

Kenji cursed to himself, he had told Mina to direct all calls to voicemail.

“Both, let’s go. Right now. I know you have nothing planned with that keeping you busy” he said as he pointed to your arm sling.

You pouted at him, furrowing your brows.

“Okonomiyaki” you huffed.

“Yeah, yeah. I know” he laughed.

Kohaku was annoyed to hear that you had skipped out with Kenji. You hadn’t said that it was on his motorcycle either. There had to be some kind of rule against riding with only one good arm. But you threw caution to the wind as you used one arm to keep you grounded to Kenji. Although, he had driven more carefully knowing you were at risk of falling off. When you both reached the old Okonomiyaki restaurant, the memories began to come back.

“This place hasn’t changed a bit,” you said in awe.

“Don’t fix what isn’t broken or something” Kenji chuckled.

You both sat down and began to create a monster of an order. It felt like you were both kids again, mixing things and exploring new combinations. When it came time to make the pancake, you looked at Kenji with a sly grin.

“All right hot shot, you gotta cook it,” you said.

“You can at least put the topping on with your good arm,” Kenji rolled his eyes.

“Just make sure you don’t flip it on my head” you snickered.

“Oh ha, ha. Like I can’t flip a pancake” Kenji sarcastically laughed.

“Says the guy who ended up taking an Okonomiyaki shower” you continued to tease him.

“Hm, maybe you should try one,” he said as he filled a spoon with Okonomiyaki sauce.

Kenji leaned over the table to push it closer to your face.

“Ken! Don’t you dare!” you squealed.

You both began to calm down as your hunger became more apparent. Kenji managed to keep all the toppings on and flip the pancake. Now it was time to eat. You grabbed a spoon, unable to eat properly with your non-dominant hand. Kenji watched you clumsily try to eat with the spoon.

“Okay, hold up” he said and stood up.

He grabbed his chair, moving from sitting across the table from you to sitting adjacent to you. He was close enough to bump elbows with you. He raised his chopstick to your mouth.

“Say ‘Ah’” his voice came out playful as he held up a bite sized piece.

“You can’t be serious” you said as you felt your cheeks heating up.

“Hey, I’m doing you a favor,” he teased.

You rolled your eyes and opened your mouth. The both of you moved forward and the bite sized piece of Okonomiyaki made it into your mouth.

“Oh! So good!” you exclaimed as your cheeks tingle.

“Uh huh? See? And you didn’t want my help” Kenji smirked as he fed himself.

As much as you hated yourself for thinking about it, this was an indirect kiss. You pushed the thought to the back of your mind and hummed loudly.

“Well, if you insist. Then you can feed me” you laughed.

[ang3lina-xoxo]

ghostface!chris + fem!reader

made by: ang3lina-xoxo only on tumblr!

authors note: i haven’t slept in days. (forgive me for any grammar errors, i’ll try to get better) ALSO i usually don’t use caps soooo…

also i might forgot fix a few things. so sorry if i forgot about that.

english isn’t my first language!! also this is my first fic so

!warnings: mentions of using a blade(knife), smut, shit writing. gaging, rough sex, edging, praise kink, chocking.

! ꩜₊ ⊹౨ৎᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

inspo: lil red on archive!

─ ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─ ─ ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─ ─ ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─ ─ ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─ ─

when we are around the people we love, we feel safe, and we feel at ease. but, what do you do when the person you love goes missing when a murder is going around? and what if the person you love is the threat? who do you run to then?

when was the last ghost face attack? you can’t even remember, three years ago? maybe even four, but he’s back, and this time it isn’t a joke.

8:37 pm

you’re at the sturniolo’s house, although it’s quieter then usually is. the reason? Chris isn’t here. why? well that’s cause he’s all the way down in California for a modeling shoot, for fresh love of course.(or atleast you think) you don’t mind that he isn’t here, i mean you’re the closest to nick so it isn’t much of a problem.

you and nick sat on the couch, Trevor in between the two, as your eyes are glued to the tv screen, watching the news, which was odd because you aren’t a news person, you rather wait until it popped up one your fyp while you aimlessly scrolled, but this? this was different. this was specifically talking about the town you’re in, and how ghostface was back.

“could be some kid trying to be cool.” nick mumbled next to you, you didn’t have much to say so you just nodded in a agreement. nick reached out and grabbed the remote to the tv, he swapped the channel to a different news station but… the same thing, different reporters.

“alright, whatever we can watch a movie tomorrow, yeah?” nick sighed, looking at you.

“yeah.”

“alright the guest bedroom is free, like always. make yourself at home.”

“got it.”

11:32 pm

you slide on some pjs before walking down the stairs to the kitchen to get yourself a snack before you headed up, to your room. as you close the cupboard your phone begins to ring causing you to jump slightly. you let out a breath of relief and slight embarrassment realizing the noise was just your phone.
you pick up your phone dismissing the fact that it’s an unknown number.

“hello?” you answer

nothing..
“helloo?” you ask again moments from hanging up, when you hear a heavy breath through the phone. your body tenses up, and the hairs on the back of your neck stand up.


“who is this?” your thoughts immediately flooding with the murders happening in your town starting with a phone call.

the breathing sound continues until you hear a voice “you know who it is” a deep distorted voice vibrates through the phone. your breath quickens and you start to hyperventilate, your entire body shaking. you knew your luck would run out eventually, it was your turn to die now.


“where are you?” you say as confidently as possible, with tears welling up in your eyes. you look around yourself anxiously before running to the knife block to pull out your biggest knife for protection.

a deep chuckle rings through your ears “come find me doll, i’ve got a surprise for you” he taunts. you blink a couple times to clear your eyes and let fresh tears fall. you find yourself playing his game, searching for him. “can you see me?” you gulp dryly, as you slowly open the shoe closet.

(a shoe closet? great choice, champ.)

“of course i can love.” his voice cocky and horse, was it bad that you totally thought his voice was hot? maybe that’s an issue cause it’s a fucking murderer.

you searched aimlessly, as you slowly made your way towards nicks room to wake him up, when u here a raspy “stop.” your eyes flicker down to your phone, as you realize you weren’t on the phone, but the voice was in the same hall as you.

you’re about to scream when a hand is placed over your mouth, as a blade is pressed to your throat.

“walk.”

your hands wrap around his, trying to pull em off, as he drags you to the direction the guest bedroom.

the only sounds are your footsteps and your embarrassing whimpers.

his gloved hands travel up your arms gently touching your skin, you followed his movements with your eyes. his hands tighten on your neck/ throat signalling you to look at him.


your eyes meet again and your breath hitches at his cold gaze. he pushes you onto the bed behind you and you let out a scream (or tried to as it was quickly muffled but his hand covering your mouth.) at the sudden movement, he crawls on top of you and grabs the knife in one swift motion.

“we don’t want to wake them up now, do we?”

you shake your head no, in a desperate attempt to make him feel bad and go away.

he took the handle of the knife and trailed it down your body, leaving goose bumps in it’s wake.

he paused, leaving the knife on your lower stomach, as his hand slipped into his pocket, pulling out a black blindfold, his other hand pining you down. your sense of vision was quickly taken away, but you felt the handle of the knife trail lower and lower.

now, if you said you weren’t worked up, that was a lie, and he could tell by your body language.

his other hand hooks onto your waistband before pulling them and your panties down your legs. he then slid the knife lower, and lower.

he then flipped the knife and caught it by the blade, before pressing the handle onto your clit. you squirmed with unexpected pleasure letting out a small whimper at the touch.

“you’re absolutely fuckin’ gorgeous.” he coo’s. “yeah?” you questioned, your voice dry and raspy.

“yeah..” he answered immediately.

fuck, this was too good.

he slowly slides the handle down your folds and pushes it into your cunt, twinges of arousal shot though your core, you bit your lip containing a moan while your hand found your way to his bicep. Chris chuckled at your grip on his arm and pushed it into you again deeper this time making a loud moan fall from your lips. quickly overwhelmed as he repetitively pumped the knife inside of you slowly and teasingly as he admired you beneath him.

you bit your lip to stifle your moans.

chris quickly noticed and smirked, “good girl, don’t make a sound.”

you felt the knife pull out of you, as your legs are forced open by the nudge of his knees. chris dropped in-between your legs, of course you didn’t know this as you were blind folded. he placed his hands on the back of each thigh, as he pulled your legs onto his shoulders. “fuck, you’re stunning, ma’”

his hands could practically leave bruises by the way he was gripping your legs as if he was holding on for dear life.

he pressed a kiss to your core, causing your back to arch slightly after this, he fucking ate you out, praising you with his kisses.

(i have no idea how to write someone getting eaten out so uhhhhhhh)

as you reached your climax, he just had to stop there, before the sounds of a zipper being undone, and a belt falling to the ground is heard.

he lined his tip, running it against your sensitive folds to tease you, a small groan escaping his lips as he pulled away, suddenly you could feel all his inches getting pushed into you at once, without giving you a moment to get used to his size, he pounded into you, leaving you at his mercy as you tried not to whimper or moan to receive more of his praises.

“fuck, sweetheart…. you’re so perfect…” he whimpered

you whine hopelessly, in half pain half pleasure.
“take it.” he says through gritted teeth. chris’s gloved hand slides over your throat roughly squeezing the sides, almost immediately making you lightheaded. his other hand squeezes your hip roughly.

both of your moans flood the room as he fucks you senseless.

“such a good girl.” he whimpers. his hand travels from your neck to your mouth, sticking two fingers down your throat, making you gag, your eyes squeezing shut as he rode you though your high. Chris slows his pace, still catching his breath. he slides his dick out of you, he plants a small but loving kiss on the back of your head. “keep your head down, doll.” he says your eyebrows furrow at the odd request but you oblige.

a couple seconds pass of silence. “can i put my head up now?” you ask impatiently, muffled through the pillow.


silence. you sit up and look behind you only to see your empty bedroom, and his ghostface mask on your bed.

oh, and, chris is home early.

…………………………………………………

AHHHH this is absolute shit i’ll try harder in the future, trust.

[doudouneverte]

Flustered swedish

a/n: just a little Idea on my mind...

Pairing: Stina Blackstenius x FRAWNT!reader; Arsenal WFC x reader.

Summary: Arsenal signed a new and mysterious player but it's seem that some of them already know her

Type: Fluffy as f-

Warning: me who give you a surprise fic but don't finish an other 😭

word count: 1746

-----

Everybody knew Stina was a rather private person, and everybody was okay with this. Things didn't change even when she was transferred to Arsenal.

After the World Cup, she was rather surprised to be welcomed with the news of a new transfer. With Amanda, who signed for the gunners just before the tournament, they were trying to guess which sort of player could be their new teammate.

While the girls were getting ready, they heard someone knock on the door, and all the girls looked at them. You were there with Jonas, waiting for him to introduce you to your new team.

"Girl, this is Y/n, our new recruit. I'll let her introduce herself and get ready for training." He announced to them. "And don't worry, they kind of looked scary, but they don't bite. Well, maybe Katie can." He said to you just too loud to be heard by the Irish girl who protested before he left the room.

When the door got closed, you had all eyes on you, and you guessed it was your time to start to speak.

"Hi, I'm Y/n Y/l/n; I'm a full back. I played for the PSG, and I play for the France national team." You said trying to not stutter and give a bad first impression. The girls didn't have time to say anything before Amanda came to hug you.

"I knew you would follow me. You can't get rid of me." She joked, making you chuckle lightly. After that, the rest of the room came to welcome you. Stina being the last one, everybody noticed your change when you shook the striker's hand.

"Well, isn't that Mrs. Blackstenius?" You asked loudly and the Swedish player rolled her eyes.

"Happy to see you too, Y/n." She replied sarcastically, which made Lina and Amanda laugh quietly.

"Do we have to worry that they will rip each other's heads apart?" Lia asked Lina.

"No, don't worry, they played together back in Montpelier." The second Swedish informed them.

During the training, everyone saw something; you were close to the Swedish players, but even more so with Stina. Sometimes girls could hear you make jokes, to which the striker would just roll her eyes before a smirk appeared on her face.

After training, it was time to go back home. "So can you tell us how you ended up here without us knowing anything?" Amanda asked when the only ones in the changing room were the three Swedish players and you.

"I asked Johanna to pick me up at the airport, and she also drove me here. Which means—" You looked at Stina and said, "We'll have to go to her home before we go to ours." 

The striker didn't complain and just grabbed her bag and your hand before leading you out of the room. You stayed there until you reached her car, and she had to let you sit on the passenger side.

"I hope you like your–" You didn't finish your sentence before her lips were glued against yours. She only broke it when oxygen became a necessity.

"I missed you. You don't know how much I'm happy that you finally joined me." She confessed.

"I'm sure you'll have all the time to show me this after we get my things from Jo." You said with a mischievous smile.

The next few days were strange for the Arsenal girls. It was not difficult to talk to you; you were rather open about everything. That helped them learn more about you and how you were so friendly with the Swedish players. But something was still on almost everyone's minds: you said that you had a wife, but some of them heard you shamelessly flirt with Stina.

"I don't think it's a good idea to let Y/n flirt like that with Stina." Steph proposed to some teammates while they saw you telling what seemed like a good joke, judging by your proud face and the laughing face of the Swedish woman.

"Maybe they're just good friends," Caitlin said.

"Friends don't look at each other like they did." Lia said, pointing out how much they saw you do the heart eyes to the blonde.

"You should see how Stina looked at her when we were training today." Viv said as she joined the group.

"See? Even Viv noticed it." Steph said to her national teammate, obviously not replying when the Dutch asked her what she meant.

The girls were about to say something when they saw you walking near them to join Kyra and Vicky, who called you for something.

"It's time." Steph said, and the group quickly stood up to have a little talk with their teammate.

Stina was doing some exercise and entertaining a little chat with her Swedish teammates, and Frida, who joined them just after you left, when she saw the girls stopping in front of her.

"Is everything okay?" She asked when she noticed the expressions of her teammates.

The girls exchanged glances to see who would talk first. When she felt that nobody would, Leah took things into her hands. "Stina, I—no, we think you need to stop what you and Y/n are doing." The captain said, earning a strange look from all the Scandi girls.

"What do you mea–" Amanda started, but she was cut when you came back from your little chat with the youngies.

"Hey Blackstenius, isn't it funny that I'm the French one but Eiffel for you?" You said with a comical wink, which made Lina and Amanda burst into laughter while the striker just blushed very hard. "Okay, now I have to go." You said this before leaving, leaving the girls completely speechless.

"What just happened?" Caitlin asked.

"I think we will need to have a talk with her too. She can't just do that." Steph said.

~~~

This evening, you were cooking when Stina suddenly came to you with an amusing look. You looked at her with a confused expression while she just laughed at something on her phone.

"Hey, what is it?" You asked a little jealous to not be in the confidence.

"The girls came to me today. They told me that you need to stop flirting with me like that. They find it very inappropriate because you have a wife, and it's very irrespective to her." 

"Well, too bad. I love to flirt with her in front of everyone, even if they don't know who she is." You replied. The blonde took your hands, wrapped them around her waist, and placed hers around your neck.

"I know you want to tell them, but you can't deny that it's funny to see them freak out." She pointed, making you chuckle.

"Okay, but we will have to tell them soon because I started to feel a little impressed with their bad looks." You said this before pressing a light kiss on her lips.

"Yeah, I know. Don't worry, we will–" She was cut off by the doorbell, making her look at you a little confused. "You waited for someone?"

"I invited Jo, but she shouldn't have been here for at least thirty minutes, I think." You replied while you made your way to the front door.

"Maybe it's your wife." Stina joked.

"Oh, welcome, my lov–oh." In front of you were Steph, Caitlin, Lia, and Leah. "Well, good evening, I think." You said and let them enter, a little unsure of what was happening.

"Älskling (Darling), who is this?" Stina said coming out of the kitchen. "Oh. Well, good evening... I think." She said to the girls.

The girls looked at you, then at her, more confused than before.

"What's happening here? And what are you doing here?" Leah asked you.

"Well, I can ask you the same thing. We were expecting Jo and Zećira, but I think you're welcome too." You replied.

"Wait. Can we please restart it slowly? First, what is Y/n doing here, and second "Jo and Zećira"? Like Kaneryd and Mušović from Chelsea?" Caitlin asked.

"First, we live together; second, yeah; and to finish, what are you doing here?" Your wife was more confused than angry.

"Well, we want to see you, and—wait! Did you say that you live together?" Lia asked.

"Yeah, I mean, it's okay to live with my wife, until there is a law that I don't know yet that says the opposite." You replied with a little bit of sarcasm in your tone.

"Your wife?" They all asked at the same time.

"Surprise," Stina said, showing them her ring.

"Why is it the first time we see this?" Steph asked this time.

"She usually leaves it home when she has to train because she loses things easily." You replied, making your wife throw a pillow at you.

"Since when?" The Swiss woman asked visibly more calm than the others.

"Three years now, but I already told you that last week." You said.

"No, until a few seconds ago, we thought that you were married to some random woman, not one of our teammates." Leah said.

"Okay, it's not that I don't want to talk, but I need to finish cooking, so I let you with her." You said heading directly to your previous location.

From the kitchen, you could hear how the girls didn't stop asking all sorts of questions to the striker, and you were mentally laughing just by imagining the face she should make at this moment. Yes, you didn't really yell everywhere that you were engaged to the Swedish player, but it was never really taboo every time someone asked you what your relationship was with her.

The meal was just ready when you heard the front open and close a few seconds later and heard your wife's footsteps coming to where you were. Being taller than you, she wrapped her arms around your torso and rested her head on top of yours before taking a deep breath.

"Please don't let me reply to those questions alone next time, please." She said dramatically, making you laugh.

"I'm sorry, mon amour (my love), but you nailed it, like always." You replied and turned around to face her. She was about to kiss you, but you gently put your finger on top of her lips. "I think I heard someone ring outside." You said.

"What do you–" she couldn't say something before both heard the ring bell a second time. The blonde rolled her eyes but finally let your body.

[mackandcheezy]

Don't Blame Me (Coriolanus Snow x Reader)

​​A/N: I have yet to see ABAOSAS so simply this is for the vibes, major plot changes from the book/ movie so dont mind that, simply I saw a hot morally grey man and decided I can fix him so this is for all the girlies with a toolbelt ;) 

His eyes had been glued to the screen for what felt like hours. The little specs of graininess following his vision everytime he blinked. Coriolanus Snow did not falter for anyone-- that was until he met you. Something about your blind optimism reminded him of a child, and god how he hated children, but somehow on you it was like a drug he couldn’t get enough of. It made something warm start in his chest, and little fires erupt in every nerve. It was nothing like he had ever felt before, he hated it, and yet he couldn’t get enough. And now he was going to watch the only thing that made him feel that way slip between his fingers like nothing more than a single snowflake. At some point the snow had to melt and here he was watching it live. 

He kept replaying that last conversation over and over. “I’m going to survive, there is no if,” he remembered how you brushed your fingers across his cheek through the rusty bars of the zoo. If he closed his eyes and thought about it hard enough he could feel the warmth of your fingers against his face again. He refused to remember the single tear and question that had prompted that response. This could not be a one time thing. He just got you and there was no letting you go now. Love is a drug and he was nothing but an addict. 

Coryo was jolted to reality when he noticed another tribute sneaking up behind you. He couldn’t remember his name. There was no point, the only one that mattered was the victor and that was you. It had to be you. 

Staring into the depths of your form he begged you to wake. The bile was already crawling up his throat burning a trail in its wake. Stomach clenched he closed his eyes as he heard what could only be described as a battle cry leave the murderer’s mouth. 

Three seconds. He was allowing himself three seconds of grief before he had to move on. To survive. Snow falls on top and he faltered for you but now it was over and he had to go on. 

That was until he opened his eyes to your form. You were standing over the tribute, eyes wide as the saucers that Grandma’am used to take tea in. A bloody knife dripped blood down your pale dress leaving you in a haunting shade of wet red down your right side. He didn’t remember you having that, deciding you must have fought the tribute for it, you always were good at getting what you wanted, especially from him. You took his every waking thought like it was nothing so what was a knife? 

“I killed him. He’s dead. I killed him..” Coryo could do nothing but watch as you spiraled within the tunnel. He wanted nothing more than to hold you and tell you that this was nothing more than a bad dream. Though part of him knew that in a way the person who brushed his cheek was gone. 

He quickly fixed the look of concern dawning his face, remembering how you had told him once that his “human was showing.” That single thought gracing the smallest of smiles on his lips. 

In a twisted way seeing you covered in a thick sheet of red brought him comfort. A small part of him knew that was wrong. Knew that his comfort came at the cost of a human life. But none of them deserved to live as much as you did. Now he knew you could do it, knew you had what it took to win, with the added bonus of having a weapon. He had not felt so much joy since hearing of the opportunity to go to University. You were the key to his new life, and it started now. 

He remembered thinking you were weak when he offered you the posion and you declined citing that “cheaters never win.” Coriolanus felt the entire essence of his personality crumble when those words left your perfectly pink lips. It set something inside of him aflame. You made him almost want to be a good person, almost, because if anything happened to you he would do whatever it took no matter the cost. He was ready to put his own future at risk for the assurance of knowing that you would live to see tomorrow's sunrise. Because you deserved a tomorrow more than he ever did. 

The games were coming to a close. Only a few tributes left and he watched intently as you moved around the arena. Even caked in blood, dirt, and who knows what else, he had never seen a figure more beautiful. 

He couldn’t help but allow himself to think of you adorned in the luxuries of the capitol. An egregious dress adorning your shoulders and your hair in some unnatural twist. Somehow it never looked as good as you did right now. Raw and natural, locks framing your face in small clumps. You were going to get out of this and he was going to get you out of those crummy districts. You deserved more than any of those pathetic traitors, and he was going to get you that. One way or another. 

[retrocesosdestacion]

SOCIALIZING PROBLEMS. | mapi león

mapi león x reader

genre: not fluff at all, accidental confession, teenager love.

warnings: a bit of headcanon, reader being a stupid curious, mapi confessing unintentionally, also mapi being an assertive/passive person.

notes: i had this prompt when i was cooking an egg. dios im really sorry for making u guys wait too long, also i feel like this is the worst writing I've ever done in my life.

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: You are secretly Mapi's love and you have negative impressions about her.

But that ended when Maria accidentally left her sketchbook on the bench at the locker room.

“ If I had a flower for every time I thought of you... I could walk through my garden forever. ”

Tennyson.

❝ Damn. Mapi, you should become an artist. ❞ From the other side of the locker room, you could hear Pina's lips praising the spanish's drawings once again.

It was already the fifth time that day that someone had praised the scribbles in that notebook. And you too, but only in your head. You didn't even have the courage to go there and see the drawings.

Two years ago you were transferred to Barcelona. Everything was normal, you made friends, adapted to the Spain style, adapted to new rules.

But you didn't adapt to Maria León. You didn't have the slightest ability to go up to her and have a chat lasting more than two minutes.

Normally you just greet her, that's when you don't even look at her face. Anyone who saw the two of you together would pinky swear that hated each other.

This was all because in your little mind, Mapi had the greatest disinterest in you. After all, you came to this conclusion when you noticed that the defender always ran away from the conversation when you arrives.

However, over time, you accepted this treatment from the spanish woman, even if you were curious to understand the player. You even told this whole situation to Ona, your best friend.

But it was always the same dilemma: “Relax, she’s shy. “ or “ Mapi has difficulty meeting new people. “

Yet that never made sense, after all, Mapi is anything but bashful.

It became a huge snowball since you never bothered to go talk to her. Therefore, currently your relationship with Mapi is completely lacking affection.

And it was just with you.

Claudia, for example, was one of the lucky ones. She was glued to the blonde's side, attentively observing each page of the spanish woman's small notebook with the greatest freedom and comfort.

At that moment, the defender had both feet on the bench, so she could rest the notebook on her knees. Mapi slowly leafed through the drawings for her friend once again.

❝ Yo ya te dije, who knows in a few years. ❞ (I already told you.) León reply to the other spanish woman's compliment with a very hopeful tone, as part of her dream was to be a tattoo artist.

As always, you just looked at the two girls talking, as you sat, untying your boots.

❝ If you look for longer, you will have bad luck. ❞ Ona mocked your indeterminate stare. ❝ If you’re so interested, go there. ❞ She states while taking off her training uniform.

❝ Madness. She doesn't like me and you want me to suddenly get there? ❞ You threw those words into the air so quickly that Ona took a while to formulate something.

❝ Why do you think she hates you? ❞ Your friend countered.

❝ I've told you thousands of times, Ona. She looks at me dirty, ignores me, she doesn't even want to talk to me even though I'm her training partner! ❞ You justify while gesturing nervously.

❝ Stop being fucking neurotic. ❞ The spanish woman rolled her eyes, finishing putting on her post-workout clothes. ❝ Ve allí, siéntate a su lado y descubrirás por qué te trata así. ❞ (Go there, sit next to her and you will find out why she treats you like that.) Ona stated.

You only knew the basics of spanish, deciphering what the defender had said would take a while. ❝ Huh, what? Find out what? ❞

Ona didn't respond, just giving you a stupid smile and a wink.

Slowly, the oldest left your side and walked towards Mapi and Claudia. The moment she got there, Batlle poked Pina's shoulder and approached, murmuring something in her ear.

❝ What the fuck are you doing?! ❞ You whispered to yourself, automatically standing up; scared and surprised.

Suddenly, you felt the greatest penetration of looking in your direction: Claudia Pina looked at you as if she knew all your secrets, giving you chills.

She smiled a huge and mischievous smile, raised her arm and waved it, calling you over.

Before you went, the only thing you observed was Mapi's embarrassed and awkward manner, grumbling at the two spanish women for calling you.

You thought for seconds before taking the step to go there. A whirlwind of thoughts ran through your mind, like a river heading straight for the waterfall.

What if you are a nuisance to her? What if she leaves the moment you get there?

You were very worried about the relationship with someone you don't even are intimate with.

You worry about the image you give to a person that don't even want to be your friend.

Thus, your heart began to run a marathon from the moment you started your very slow steps towards Mapi León.

Maybe you were afraid of hurting her, but at the same time yourself. As if your feelings were bubbling for the defender and you didn't want to ruin everything.

In your peripheral vision, the only notable details were María closing her notebook as quickly as a middle school student after the last bell, Claudia and Ona smiling goofily and pointing at the defender.

❝ What was it? ❞ Those were your first words when you reached the other side of the locker room, completely looking away from Mapi and just focusing on the other two.

❝ You're the only one on the team who hasn't seen Mapi's drawings, right? ❞ Claudia gave the first word, pushing León's shoulder with her elbow.

You didn't even bother to answer correctly, just opening a painful smile.

❝ Yes, I think so. ❞

After you responded, Mapi frowned, rolling her eyes. This only made you more certain that León actually hated you.

❝ But there's no need to show it. I mean, I'm not interested. ❞ They were the stupidest words that came out of your mouth.

The shine in Mapi's eyes slowly faded with each word that left your lips, the spanish woman's fingers ran to the back of her neck, uncomfortable. At this point, you should be sure that you almost hurt the girl.

❝ Don't be like that. Come on Mapi, show it. ❞ Ona finally said something in the midst of the discomfort of that conversation, lightly patting the other spanish woman on the head.

❝ I'll show you later, I need to pack my things. ❞ Maria came up with the most false excuse possible, since her things were almost one hundred percent ready. León's fingers rested on the slap, giving Ona a dirty look.

Your eyes fell on Claudia and Ona, indignant at all of this.

But you didn't know why. It wasn't as if the lack of communication between two companions would cause such great discomfort.

There was something more, you could feel it. Such something else that even Ona hides from you.

❝ Dios mío, esto es horrible. You two look like children who don't know how to talk to each other. ❞ (Oh my god, this is horrible.) Claudia gave her opinion amidst the silence.

❝ Son como dos chicas enojadas. ❞ (They're like two stupid girls. ) Batlle added.

Mapi stood up delicately, pulling the bag that was previously on the floor to the bench and opening it. ❝ Could you two shut up and get out of here, wouldn't you? ❞

The spontaneous rudeness really took you by surprise, mainly because the defender was staring at the other two, but not at you.

Pina raised her hands in defense, expressing a mere comical sadness on her face. ❝ Right. ❞

The same thing for Ona, who reached for the strap of her sports bag and put it on her left shoulder. ❝ Come on, Claudia. And don't be stupid with [reader]. ❞

❝ Que se jodan ustedes dos. ❞ (Fuck you two.) Mapi grumbled as she mock-rifled through her clothes.

Ona grabbed Claudia's arm and pulled her tightly to her feet, slowly dispersing herself from you and Mapi over time, killing the last few minutes. ❝ See you later, [reader]. ❞

Your eyes screamed for help to leave together, following the two girls until they left the main door.

Okay, now you were alone with the girl you were most afraid of.

Gradually, some people and groups would leave within minutes. Silence now, which had previously been scattered conversations, was prevailing, and that was delicious on the one hand.

After all, you loved being alone at times like this. But not with Maria.

You continued standing until Mapi offered you the bench next to her, and you did so. When you laid eyes on the spanish woman, you noticed her fingers pressing against her own temples, circling fingerprints there.

❝ I'm sorry about them. They are two idiots. ❞ León murmured as she took her fingers back to the bag, closing the zipper.

❝ Alright, no problem. I'm used to it. ❞ You responded with a typical defensive tone, unaccustomed to this type of conversation with her.

Your fingers tapped upper thigh, nervous and anxious, waiting for some miracle.

Momentarily, the spanish woman's brown globes rested on you, followed by a big sigh.

❝ I'm sorry if I'm stupid with you. And it's also bad if I didn't show you the drawings, it's just that— ❞ The defender was interrupted when Patri shouted her name.

❝ Hey, Mapi! ❞ The spanish woman appeared through the door of the main hallway. ❝ Can you check for me if my boots are dropped on the field? ❞

Maria looked at you with a roll of her optics, also accompanied by a tiny and shy smile. ❝ I'll be right back. ❞

The spanish woman slowly went to the gate that connected the changing room and the field, leaving you there freely in the area.

A dead silence remained there, there was no one else but the two of you inside that locker room, and now, only you.

Your body was still warm from training, but it could be for countless reasons, maybe because of your sudden meeting with Mapi, because of the fear of everything that happens in other conversations, happening now.

Eyes slowly took in every detail of the locker room: the ceiling, the floor, all the other stalls and even your bag on the other side.

But your orbs left for your side, where Mapi's unopened bag accidentally was. And of course, the damn sketchbook.

No, no. This is terrible, a lack of privacy. Your desire to leaf through that notebook was greater, but you should be aware.

It was only a matter of time before Mapi came back and finally opened that notebook, there was no point in leafing through it before then.

But despite everything, you were a very, very curious person.

❝ Damn. ❞ You muttered to yourself, intertwining your fingers so that you unconsciously wouldn't reach for the notebook.

But, well... Your eyes darted from side to side, making sure Maria wasn't there.

Your hand rested on the notebook, at the same time your heart accelerated so quickly as a result of your comportment. You should go back.

Slowly, you opened it enough so you could peek at the drawings. Incredibly, they were drawings of outlooks and Mapi's cats.

Despite everything, it wasn't that bad. ❝ Damn. ❞ You mumbled.

Suddenly, a folded sheet of paper fell from the middle of the pages of the notebook, falling to the floor. Your face produced a confused expression until the moment you reached the sheet.

At the same time that you were almost putting the sheet back from where it had fallen, you unfolded it.

Your heartbeat increased from the moment you caught sight of your name written there, along with a drawing of yourself and several doodles in the surrounding area.

Initials together, stick drawings of the two of you together that you were sure Claudia and Ona had scribbled, your name was written in every color there was.

There, maybe you realized why Mapi never showed you the notebook. Why Mapi hated being by your side when she was with the girls.

You could feel your face burn, turning red little by little, until it was like a pepper.

Immediately, you threw your hands up to your face, along with the sheet. You breathed once, twice and three times until you understood the situation.

❝ Shit. ❞ You mumbled to yourself with a muffled tone, still with your face hidden in your hands.

Your body slowly slid down the cabin wall, rethinking all the impressions you always had of Mapi.

You folded the sheet back and hid it in the notebook again.

Suddenly, Maria's figure slowly appeared in the locker room, mainly due to the sound of her footsteps.

Your torso rose, you became so desperate that you completely forgot to let go of the notebook in your hand.

Mapi slowly stopped walking and stopped in the middle of the locker room the moment her eyes fell on your hand with the notebook.

Slowly, her lips opened ready to say something. However, the spanish's internal desperation probably prevented this.

❝ I didn't see anything, I swear. ❞ Was the only thing you could say before throwing the notebook back onto the bench and waving your hands in defense.

Maria completely changed her route, walking quickly towards you. The moment she reached you, the player grabbed your hands and squeezed.

❝ Puedo explicarlo, en serio. ❞ (I can explain it, seriously.) Mapi stuttered between words and even forgot to say them in english.

The spanish woman's face didn't even bother to hide her embarrassment. You could feel the player's fingers trembling and of course, the strong desire to cry.

❝ I thought it was cute. ❞ In the midst of all the tension, these were your stupid words. Giving a short smile, which perhaps calmed León.

❝ What? ❞ Mapi asked, raising one of her eyebrows.

❝ The drawing. ❞

❝ But you said you didn't see anything. ❞ Maybe you didn't expect her to be so naive.

❝ I'm not going to lie, I saw everything. ❞ You answer with a defensive intonation, after all, you had no idea what would happen from now on. ❝ Even those scribbles on the sid— ❞

❝ That was the girls idea. ❞ Mapi justified it so quickly, was probably true.

It was at that moment that you realized that María León was not angry or disgusted with you. Mapi was actually in love with you and was ashamed to admit it.

This all explained the insults and scandals she made whenever the girls played with her. You were the concern of all the jokes.

❝ Right. First breathe. ❞ You advised the spanish girl to calm down, after all, she was shaking more than anything.

❝ Let me explain, please. I don't want you to get it wrong. ❞ Mapi begged to hold an explaination.

❝ Go ahead. ❞

❝ I'm not some kind of stalker, okay? I only drew you because, well… Because I like you and I thought you were pretty. ❞ The defender gets confused in her own words.

You were sure that wasn't what she wanted, Mapi didn't want to confess like that stupid way.

❝ But I completely understand if you think I'm crazy like that... ❞ Mapi slowly closed her eyes, trying to throw all the despair inside. ❝ Dios mío, ¿qué carajo estoy diciendo? ❞ (Oh my god, what the fuck am I saying?)

❝ Hey, it's okay... I guess. ❞ You tried to calm down from the moment you felt León's fingers slowly slip from your hands.

Your mind enfolded the sight of Mapi in front of you, it was the only thing you could pay attention to.

Heart felling affliction, a feeling full of pity for the whole situation that Maria went through made you think a lot.

While you had the wrong impression of her, Mapi couldn't control own feelings.

❝ I don't know what to say about all this. ❞ You produced a sentence where you could try to be understandable with it. ❝ I thought you hated me. ❞

❝ What? Why?! ❞ León was really shocked.

❝ Huh… You always sounded or looked ignorant to me. But it wasn't bad, I had the wrong impression. ❞ Your lips moved automatically, everything you kept about her these two years finally escaped.

Mapi gave a short smile, perhaps your words sounded funny. ❝ Yo nunca debí contarles a Ona y Claudia sobre ti. ❞ (I should never have told Ona and Claudia about you.) The spanish woman muttered to herself, but you still understood.

❝ And now knowing that you like me was such a turning point. ❞ You explained yourself without letting go of Mapi's hands for a second. ❝ By the way, about that… ❞

❝ No need to explain yourself, I'll understand if you don't reply— ❞

❝ No. I want it. I mean, I think you won my heart after seeing your drawings. ❞ Your typical comedic tone caused few laughs between the two of you.

❝ And also, it really hurt me to get the impression that you hated me. I've been making you a fool all this time. ❞ You continued.

Mapi León paid attention to every word that left your lips. There, you noticed how the player stopped shaking and stuttering, finally taking comfort.

❝ No. I understand, I would have that impression too if I saw all of this. ❞

❝ But I hope we can go back and start over from scratch. ❞ You looked for the solution.

Despite everything, Mapi was very understandable with words, she just needed time to express herself.

Suddenly, León's brown orbs looked to the side, perhaps worried about something. ❝ I think we better go, I need to tell Patri about the boots. ❞

Mapi let go of your hands, and for a moment you didn't like that feeling. The spanish woman's fingerprints grabbed the famous intriguing notebook, putting it back in her bag.

Initially she carried the bag on her shoulder, waiting for you to do the same. Your feet lifted and strained toward your own bag, but immediately returned to Mapi's side.

❝ If you want to start from scratch, come with me. I'll stop at a coffee shop before heading home. ❞ León opened a genuine smile, extending her right hand towards you.

You got the signal, and you did it. Your long fingerprints met Mapi's, intertwining them.

❝ Yes, please. ❞

Maybe you should leave everything in the hands of time and, gingerly, the two of you would transform disagreements into affection.

Gradually, your relationship with Mapi stopped being lack of love and became the fruit of devotion. Walking alongside her was the best opportunity for that.

❝ ¡Quiero un frappuccino, por favor! ❞ (I'd like a frappuccino, please!) You used the spanish words that you knew, asking with a great enthusiasm. After all, from now you would use that dialect a lot more.

Really more.