#gotta let everybody know who the favorite is

[particlexxdealer]

What Dave and Kurt get from Scott on Valentine’s Day

What Luis gets on Valentine’s Day

[buttercupblu]

God is Fair|The Lore

Devotional Love with Suguru x Reader|Two-Shot

Part 1|Part 2|Part 3

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

Over time, you became perfectly molded to him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

They looked so…out of place.

They had to smell like money.

What the heck were they doing here? 

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

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

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

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

“No thanks.”

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

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

And then you saw him.

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

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

Sh—

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

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

Anxious. Reserved. Kind of boring. 

Not your speed.

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

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

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

But you were never quite given a direct invitation.

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

Why?

Because you had a history of sucking. 

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

But you?

You had to try.

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

Basketball? Trash. 

Tag? You were slow.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And wouldn’t you know it? 

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

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

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

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

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

And instantly hated him.

Not because he was the best or braggy about it. 

It was the complete opposite. 

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

And peer over to you on the sidelines for approval. 

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

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

But he noticed.

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

So after that, you kind of mirrored each other. 

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

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

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

To help you perfect your skills, of course. 

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

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

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

He mimicked the story with his arms in between laughs. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Can clothe their wings. Dashing dolls—”

“Eat every sweet. Forks will find—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It had to be.

He was still the competition, after all.

And you had to appear just as flawless. 

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

“What’d ya think about the movie?” 

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

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

A glamorous romance about a life of luxury and passion?

Say less.

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

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

“What about Daisy?” he asked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Suguru’s family had been hit by the recession.

And that’s how he became your neighbor.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Anywhere was better than being here. 

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

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

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

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

You still think about that conversation sometimes.

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

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

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

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

Suguru did some growing, too.

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

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

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

Your brain had the audacity to picture Suguru first. 

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

But where the hell did that come from? 

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

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

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

He was just the boy next door. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“How about volleyball?”

“Nah.”

“Art club?”

“Mmm-mm.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah, so you can one-up me.”

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

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

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

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

He was serious. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The Geto’s were moving on up. 

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

Something in her had changed—the thought of instability.

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

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

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

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

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

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

And were back to square one.

Alone.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Who got whisked away.

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

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

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

It wasn’t fair.

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

Why I am here

And why I try

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

To be one

To be “the one”

A smoking gun.

“Thank you.”

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

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

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

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

“Dad, please stop calling me that.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You two could be completely different people now.

He probably wouldn’t even want to see you.

Maybe you didn’t want to see him.

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

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

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

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

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

You might have met your match or worse.

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

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

You’ve got this.

He was nothing.

This was nothing.

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

The boy with the raven hair. 

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

Not in the audience.

Not as a stagehand.

But in another team’s holding room.

As a competitor. 

Your heart plummeted into your ass.

What in the fuck was he doing here???

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

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

Suddenly, your mouth was desert dry.

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

You covered all of the bases.

But here he was in a place you least expected.

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

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

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

And God, were there changes.

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

“Almost ready?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But it mattered to him.

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

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

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

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

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

You expected nothing less. 

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

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

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

This wasn’t about slam poetry anymore.

Suguru had entered your arena.

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

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

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

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

Performing.

Waiting to chew you up and spit you out. 

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

Growing more apart as you did.

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

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

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

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

If it ever was.

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

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

Again.

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

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

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

All bets were off.

The winner was a toss-up.

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

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

To you, your freedom of expression kept escaping you.

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

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

Analyzing them.

Judging them.

Mimicking them.

Wanting to be like the best.

Your foundation was shaking.

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

It was a dream come true.

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

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

It shouldn’t matter!

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

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

But your dad still got an earful about it.

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

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

“What if I-”

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

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

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

“And what’s going to happen.”

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

So much had gone into getting you here.

Energy. Time. Effort. Trust. Encouragement.

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

“I’m gonna do my best.”

“Then you’re already a winner, Bug.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

David was determined to take Goliath down.

Belgium.was.cold.

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

You felt like an idiot. 

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

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

The feeling was lonely—nerve-wracking.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your final destination.

His burial sight. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sorry.” 

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

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

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

You cleared your throat. “Good luck.”

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

His lips parted.

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

You were so grown up and had accomplished so much.

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

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

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

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

Soft and warm.

Just like you remembered but stronger—firmer.

The gloves were off for him, too.

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

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

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

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

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

Dark humor often has truth in it. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your jaw tightened, clothes fidgeting between your fingers.

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

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

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

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

You could hear a pin drop.

Suguru stopped breathing.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But this was no longer just about you.

It never was.

It was about proving anyone who ever doubted wrong.  

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Listening.

Knowing the poem was partially about him.

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

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

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

Years had passed.

Envy had pushed you to avoid him.

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

Yet he still wanted to show his support. 

And it pissed you off.

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

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

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

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

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

Crying on your first international trip to Belgium.

Nice. 

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

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

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

Any name, every name, would be better than—

“Suguru Geto.”

Naturally rolling off their tongue.

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

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

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

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

But reality was a bitch.

You couldn’t get away from him quick enough.

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

It was redundant. 

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

It wasn’t.fucking.fair.

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

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

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

You were nothing. 

You bawled your fists.

And foolish for trying. 

Hyperventilating.

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

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

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

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

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

For once, he was out of words.

“Well??” It was hoarse and cracking. 

“I-I’m—”

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

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

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

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

“Get up.” Gentleness left his voice.

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

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

“Hey.” 

You buried yourself deeper. 

“Hey.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re jealous.”

And that set you off.

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

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

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

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

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

“Who knows? Mommy buys you everything.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I was like 7.”

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

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

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

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

Oh?

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

“You’re not that talented.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

And you were quick to remind him.

“Bite me, Get—”

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

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

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

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

“How’s that for poetry?” And left. 

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

[sicbaby]

Secret Admirer

dark!gf!ethan landry x fem!reader

based on this request

Contents: 18+ smut, obsession, mentions of blood, other bodily fluids :), ghostface calls y/n, cream pie, no protection used, lil bit of non con, lil bit of breeding kink, brief knife play, ethan is a perv

You were a freshman at Blackmore this year. You had moved from your small town and straight into New York City, desperately trying to get away from the people in your hometown. You loved it here, in New York. You were roommates with Mindy Meeks-Martin, quickly becoming close with her and her group of friends. You were thankful to have such a supportive group of people in your circle. You also felt safe knowing Chad and Ethan were right across the alley, their windows facing yours.

You even had a secret admirer. You didn’t know who it was, but their gifts were super sweet and made you blush. At first, you started receiving flowers, chocolates, and sometimes there would be a cute little note attached.

Mindy was suspicious, immediately. She would tell you to discard the gifts every single time you received one. You tried to convince her at first that it was totally harmless, but she wouldn’t buy it. You told her you would start throwing them away, but you were actually keeping them and hiding them under your bed instead. You secretly loved them.

One morning you were sitting in the kitchen, right before your morning classes that day. Mindy came in from retrieving the mail, and drops an envelope in front of you. She doesn’t say anything, but gives you a disappointed look. You open it up, and it reveals a CD. the handwriting on it was neat, and it read, “a playlist for you <3.” The handwriting was not familiar to you.

“Aww, this is so cute…” you mumbled, staring at the CD with awe.

“Cute?” Mindy asks. “That’s a whole CD. You know whoever sent that had to like, do manual labor to make that playlist? Old man vibes!” She jokes.

“It’s not an old man. I think this is really sweet, you know? They took the time to burn songs on a CD for me..”

Mindy just rolls her eyes at that. “Okay, well, now we gotta listen to it. What if it’s not even music? What if it’s… something bad…”

“Something bad? What do you mean?” you question her. She looks off to the side, suddenly growing nervous.

“Uhh, nothing… I don’t know. Just looking out for you. Is that a crime?” Mindy replies.

You roll your eyes this time, and get off of the stool you were sitting on and go to your CD player. You insert the disk and press play.

You and Mindy were sat on the floor of your bedroom, listening carefully. Then, a song starts playing through the room, and Mindy lets out a sigh of relief once she realizes it’s just music. However, you, on the other hand, were speechless. This was your favorite song. How could your secret admirer possibly have known that? You quickly start flipping through the different songs, a total of 12 on the disk. You were shocked, all of these songs were near and dear to your heart.

“What? What’s wrong?” Mindy asks, noticing your frozen state.

“Mindy… these songs.. these are my favorite songs!” You exclaim.

“Turn it off, y/n. We’re going to the police.” Mindy gets up, her hands in the air as of to say she was surrendering.

“The police?” You almost laugh. “Mindy, it’s ok, it’s just.. how did they know that?” A minute of silence goes between you two, and you start laughing.

“Y/n, this isn’t funny.” Mindy crosses her arms.

“Someone is fucking with me, right? This isn’t Chad, is it?” You laugh even more.

Mindy gags a bit. “Ew, god, I fucking hope not. I’d kill him and then myself.”

You laugh at Mindy, your worry slowly fading away, thinking this was just one of your friends messing with you. You were unsure about Mindy’s actions, however. Why did she want to go to the police so quickly? Did she know something that you didn’t? Whatever, you thought. It must be nothing.

At lunch, you were sat with everybody. Mindy, Chad, Anika, Tara, Quinn, and Ethan. You guys were at a picnic table, enjoying the free period you all had. You wanted to tell the group about the CD so bad, but decided to keep it in, afraid you’ll embarrass yourself, or the person who was sending the gifts. It had to be someone close, though.

Everyone was involved in conversation, besides you and Ethan. Being the quieter of the group, you guys liked to observe and listen to the rest of your friends. However, you felt Ethan’s eyes on you the whole time. His leg was bouncing up and down restlessly, like he was nervous or anxious about something.

“You okay?” you ask him as you place a hand on his leg, trying to stop his bouncing.

He stills completely, staring at you like a deer in headlights, before looking down at the hand on his leg. You quickly pull away, realizing how long you had your hand on his leg for. “Sorry,” you say sheepishly.

“Uh- no! Don’t worry. I’m fine. Just got a test next class.” He laughs awkwardly, and you smile at how cute he is. You’ve always thought he was so cute, but you would never tell anyone, Mindy would never let you live it down.

Ethan, on the other hand, was hoping, wishing, praying, that you would talk about the CD. Talk about your secret admirer. Say out loud how you thought it was cute, how you loved it… He wanted your attention so badly, and it was clear he wasn’t getting it. Maybe Mindy was standing in the way. Maybe you thought you were too good for a secret admirer. He didn’t know. All he knew is that it was making him angry. You were his, even if you didn’t know it yet.

That night, you were getting ready for bed in your apartment. You had just gotten out of the shower, towel wrapped around your body as you were searching for your pajamas. Your window was open, but it was so hot in your apartment, despite the cold weather outside. You were searching through your underwear drawer when you notice your favorite pair were missing. Your mind goes to Mindy, but she wouldn’t do that. You must’ve misplaced them. You quickly decided to move on from that, and get dressed. You dropped your towel, now completely nude.

What you didn’t know, though, was that Ethan was secretly watching you from his own bedroom window. He watched as you walked back and forth in your room. He watched as you dropped your towel. He thought you were such a whore. Anyone could be looking in your bedroom window right now, and see you. Only he could see you like this. You were his. He grew angry, gritting his teeth, but nevertheless, moving his hand down to palm himself through his sweats. My god, you were so hot, so sexy, and soon, you’d be all his. Whether you liked that or not.

Ethan was still pretty disappointed that you hadn’t talked about your gifts today. He was sure you were getting a little suspicious, but he was going to win you in the end anyway. That was a sure fact. In the meantime, he was going to up the gifts. He wanted to give you something special that would show his appreciation for you. Something special... The idea clicked in his mind.

As he begin stroking his now fully hard cock, he kept his eyes on you. Thinking about when he’ll get to finally fuck you. Thinking about your small hand on his leg, and how he wished you placed it just a little higher. Imagining it was your hand jerking him off, and not his. His mind was running wild, and it didn’t take long before he finally released all over himself.

┌──❀*̥˚───❀*̥˚─┐

The next morning, you received another gift, luckily you found it before Mindy. This time, it was outside of your apartment door, rather than being in the mailbox. You were nervous to open this one, but still excited. This one was in a small box.

You opened it to something wrapped in tissue paper, though there was no note. You quickly unwrapped the gift.

It was… your favorite pair of underwear? and two vials… one full of a white, liquidy substance? The other a dark crimson red.. You were confused, to say the least. Your brain wasn’t connecting the dots. You picked up your underwear, and then noticed the white substance was on it as well, making you quickly drop them and run to go wash your hands. You were mortified.

Upon further inspection, the vials were connected to their own chains. This fucker wants me to wear his cum and blood as a necklace? You thought. At this point, you were scared. You didn’t know what to do. Mindy was going to be pissed, she’d tell the whole group, go to the police. But there was a part of you that was… intrigued? Someone is doing all of this, for you? He sent his own bodily fluids, knowing you could easily take it to the police. You had to find out who it was…

Once you returned back home from your classes, Mindy still wasn’t home. You figured she was out with Anika. There was an envelope on the kitchen counter. Ok, weird. You thought. You were sure Mindy didn’t come home at all throughout the day, but you quickly brushed it off.

You took a deep breath before opening the envelope. It felt light, so thankfully there would be no more weird, bodily fluids involved this time.

You opened it to.. pictures? Pictures of you… pictures of you at school… in class.. outside on campus. Pictures of you walking home. You gasped, realizing your secret admirer has now turned into your stalker. You kept shuffling through the photos. They were pretty tame, pictures of you in public spaces, though a bit creepy. Then you reached the photos of you in your bedroom. Your eyes widen as you continue looking through them. There were pictures of you doing your makeup, brushing your hair, getting undressed… and then there was a picture of you naked, a picture of you masturbating. You didn’t understand. Who the hell would do this? How did they invade your privacy this badly without you noticing? Tears begin to fill your eyes. This cannot be happening. You have to tell someone, right?

Unless…

You didn’t know what was up with you, but you didn’t want anyone’s help. You wanted to figure it out yourself. You had your suspicious, but wanted to be one hundred percent before doing anything.

┌──❀*̥˚───❀*̥˚─┐

You wore the blood vial necklace to school the next day. You figured the cum one would raise some eyebrows..

You were hyper alert the whole day, looking to see if anyone noticed your necklace. At lunch you sat at your usual picnic table, with all of your friends. Ethan and Chad arrived at the same time, and Ethan sat next to you. You were carefully eyeing everybody, seeing if anyone was acting weird. Nothing.

Little did you know, though, Ethan was hard as a rock, seeing you wear a necklace that was his blood. it took everything in him to not just rip your skirt off and fuck you right there on the table, in front of everyone. He couldn’t believe it. He was sure you would get scared, but here you were, boldly wearing it, like you were proud to be his. He didn’t say a word the whole time, holding his backpack on his lap to conceal his boner.

You were disappointed by the time you got home. You snapped the necklace off with force and threw it on the floor of your bedroom. You felt dirty, in a way. You were frustrated too. You had no other option but to wait. Or you could go to the police, but where’s the fun in that?

You were laying in bed when you got a phone call that same night. It was a ‘No Caller ID’ but you answered it anyway.

“Hello?” you asked, confusion laced in your voice.

“Hello, beautiful.” a deep, gritty, sultry voice answered you on the other end. “It’s me. I’ve missed you... So much.” He smiles, savoring each word. He could hear your breathing on the other end, and he imagined he could feel your soft, smooth face beneath his touch. Soon, he thought. Soon…

you were a bit taken aback by the voice, as it wasn’t familiar to you. It took you a few seconds to respond. “Who’s this?”

“Doesn’t matter, my darling. I just wanted to say... I’m glad I met you. You make everything better, you know that?” He smiles. “I wanna be yours.”

“I-I-… you’re my secret admirer…” you whisper as you get up off your bed, looking out the window.

“Ding ding ding!” He yells. “I knew there was something up in that pretty little head of yours.”

“Tell me who you are..” You say, a little angry this time, your voice quivering slightly.

“What does it matter to you?” He asks, a slight tinge of annoyance apparent in his voice. He smiles widely as he speaks. “You’ll know very soon, my love. Just... Give yourself to me. Don’t resist. You’ll be mine, and I’ll be yours. Do you understand? I will make you mine. Wear the other necklace tomorrow, princess. It suits you.” You could hear his smile through his voice.

“I’m not wearing that fucking necklace tomorrow. You’re disgusting, and- and you need to tell me who you are before I go to the police!” You threaten, pretending like you weren’t absolutely terrified.

“Oh… Y/n… sweet little dumb Y/n. You won’t tell anyone.” You could tell he was smiling.

“You don’t know me..” Tears start to fill your eyes.

“Oh, I know you better than anyone. You’re mine, Y/n Y/m/n.”

“What the fuck!” You yell while hanging up the phone harshly. You dropped your phone to the ground and slowly sunk down with it, sobbing.

┌──❀*̥˚───❀*̥˚─┐

The next day, a murder. A murder in the city. Two college students killed by some freak in a “ghostface” mask. You knew it had to be your secret admirer, but you were too scared to tell anyone. You felt it was already too late.

Tara and Sam were forcing everyone to stay at their apartment tonight, finally explaining to you and Ethan the reason why. Finding out your best friends were involved with the murders last year in Woodsboro left you angry, upset, disturbed, and sick. You couldn’t be around them, despite their pleas for you to stay with them. You decided that you would be ok, since you had nothing to do with “ghostface” or any of the events prior. You would just go home, and go to sleep.

So, that’s exactly what you did. You had a night class this week, so it was dark on your way home. Your heart was beating in your chest, you knew this wasn’t a good idea. You just kept repeating to yourself that he wasn’t gonna get you, you have nothing to do with him! Whoever he was.

You sigh in relief once you reach your building. You’d finally have the house alone for tonight, something you most definitely needed in a time like this.

As you walked up the steps to your apartment, you felt like you wanted to cry. Your stomach churned with guilt, but your head was full of denial. You couldn’t wait to crash on the couch and finally let sleep overtake you.

Entering the apartment, it felt… eerie. It was silent, of course, but, too silent. Something was off, you could feel it. Maybe it’s just your anxiety. Who knows.

You slowly shut the door and set your things on the counter. You take a deep sigh and head to your room down the hallway.

Unbeknownst to you, Ethan was watching you, hiding behind a wall in the kitchen. He watched you enter, a large grin spreading across his cheeks. He smiled at you from behind the wall, his eyes sparkling. He waited until you locked the door behind you to step out of hiding; this was a new turn of events, a development that would ensure he finally got what he wanted after all. He took a deep breath, and started down the hall, behind you.

You heard heavy footsteps behind you just as you were about to enter your room. You quickly turned around to see a tall figure clad in a black robe and the ghostface mask. You let out a blood curdling scream, flinching at the sight of him, causing you to fall back onto the floor. You kept slipping on the hardwood, crawling backwards until he had backed you into a corner.

Ethan smiled wide as he took a step into the light. His eyes gleamed as his black robe came into view. “Good evening.” He says, as he took another step closer. “It’s nice to see you again, princess. And I think I’m going to quite enjoy this…” He says as he slowly takes off his mask, his brown curls bouncing from the movement.

“Ethan?” you gasp, snot and tears all over your face. You are almost at the point of hyperventilation, but upon seeing Ethan, you can get your breathing under control. “Ethan.. This isn’t- this isn’t funny!” you yell.

“…Are you sure about that?” Ethan’s tone is cold, and he looks to his side. In his hand, a knife glares softly in the lights. The look on his face, however, is one of pure delight. “I don’t know about you, baby, but I’m having a good time…” He laughs.

You didn’t find it funny, at all. Your suspicions were correct. Your secret admirer was the ghostface. You just didn’t expect it to be Ethan… it was all too much for you. Your lips tremble as you try to speak. “What are- What are you going to do to me?”

“We both know what I’m going to do.” He says calmly, his dark eyes locked on yours. His voice is sweet, and there’s nothing of concern in it. He takes another step forward, so he’s right in front of you. He crouches down to your level and reaches out a hand, touching your skin, his gloved fingers grazing your cheek.

Tears fall out of your eyes freely, you were frozen, you couldn’t move. “Please… please don’t hurt me, Ethan. I didn’t do anything… please..” you look up at him, your wet eyelashes batting up at him. the look on your face made ethan hot, his pants suddenly getting tighter.

“You did do something,” He says, the dark tone returning to his voice. “You resisted me. But you’ll make it better, won’t you, my darling?” He smiles again as his fingers trace down your cheek. “You’ll make it better, won’t you? You’ll give yourself to me, right?” His voice is tender and soft, full of false sympathy. He smiles, his eyes a little brighter in the light as his tongue traces over his bottom lip.

You cry even harder. “Why? Why are you doing this to me?!” You yell, full on sobbing now.

Ethan grins widely, a sadistic smirk growing on his face. He holds the knife to your throat, holding you down against the wall. He leans in close. “Why? Is that what you wanna know?” He laughs quietly. “The answer is simple: I love you, and no one can have you but me.” He smiles, the smile twisting into something twisted and evil.

“You don’t have to do this..” You whisper, his grip is tight, and you were trying so hard not to move against the knife on your throat.

“And yet, I want to.” He smiles. “Don’t you understand, my love? You are mine. You and no one else. You will only have me.” He laughs coldly. “You should be honored… Not all girls get to witness something like this…”

You scoff at his words, which was a huge mistake.

He drags the knife down and against your shoulder, creating a small knick, blood trickling down your arm. His expression darkens again as you yelp. “I’m doing you a favor. You’ll understand once it’s done,” he says. He laughs silently. “Now, are you going to cooperate, my love?”

You knew you didn’t have a choice. He was going to kill you if you said no. “Yes… okay..” You said weakly, giving up and giving yourself to him.

A sadistic grin spread across his lips. He looked... Proud of you? Or maybe it was just another manipulation tactic. “Good girl.” He says, gently running his fingers down the side of your face. He grabs you by the back of the neck, but his touch is gentle. Once you get up, he snakes his arm around your shoulder. You were so confused. He leads you to your bedroom door, opens it and pushes you hard into the room. He slams the door shut behind him, his dark eyes shining, suddenly becoming mean again.

You stumble into the room from his push, facing away from him. You decide to just stand there and not say a word.

Ethan smiles behind you, a low hum of approval coming from his lips. “We’re going to have a good time together, doll.” A sadistic and evil twinkle in his eyes.

You begin to cry again as Ethan comes up behind you. He can tell you’re crying and shushes you sweetly, swiping your hair to the side and exposing your neck. You can feel his breath on you as he moves closer to your ear. “Shhh, Shhh, baby. It’s okay, I’m gonna take good care of you, my little doll. You trust me, right?”

You flinch, but don’t resist. “Yeah… Yes! Yes, sir…” You say, wanting to be good for him.

Once you address him as sir, his animalistic traits almost take over. He lets out a loud groan and curses under his breath. “Fuck, baby.” He whispers, as he pushes his hard cock into your ass at your words. “You’re going to be the death of me..”

He reaches his right hand to your chin, turning your face to look at him. It’s an awkward angle, but you can see each other now. He stares at your tear stained cheeks, your puffy eyes. He couldn’t be any happier…

Your fear is riling him up, his breath hot and sweet on your cheek. Slowly, he leans in to kiss you… He kisses you for what feels like forever. His lips are soft and sweet. His breath is sweet. His body is cold and hard.

To his surprise, you kiss him back. “See what happens when you obey me…” Ethan says after pulling his lips away. He smiles down at you. “My little doll…” He caresses your left cheek before pulling another hard-to-break kiss from you. This time it feels long and even more passionate, as Ethan’s lips move to your neck. He begins to move his hand lower, and to your discomfort, or pleasure? His hand begins to move up your shirt.

His gloved hand caresses your nipple, and you let out a little moan. Your eyes widen immediately after this, hearing Ethan’s sadistic laughter behind you. You didn’t mean to do that out loud. You didn’t want Ethan to know that you were actually enjoying this. You just wanted to obey him so that he would let you go. So, why are you so turned on right now?

Ethan smiles down at you. He seems to be enjoying the control he has over you. “Don’t you like making me happy, my little doll?” He asks, continuing to kiss your neck.

“Y-yes, sir…”

He smiles and ruts into you again, making you flinch. “Good girl. You’re a good girl…” He says through gritted teeth. He caresses your face. “…Say it again.”

“Yes, sir!” You say, a little more confident this time. He doesn’t say anything this time, just pushes you again so that you fall onto your bed, on your belly. Your legs half off the bed, bent at the waist.

Ethan walks to you, roughly ripping off your jeans from your legs, taking your underwear with it. You yelp loudly at the roughness, and at the cold air hitting your cunt. Ethan stops pulling off your pants half way, and sees your glistening pussy. He laughs again, which makes your stomach drop.

“You’re such a whore, Y/n. Look at you, fucking dripping for me, and I’ve barely even touched you!” He stares at you, his hard dick feeling oh so painful now, knowing that you were enjoying this too. He reaches under his robe and into his own jeans, unzipping and unbuckling them. He wastes no time in grabbing his cock out, barely even pulling his pants down. He brings the robe up and over his cock, deciding to leave it on. He starts to stroke himself, cursing under his breath, his eyes never leaving your pussy. He loves how obedient you’re being now. He didn’t think it would be this easy. He has the love of his life, exposed to him, laying quietly like a good girl. Fuck, he loves you.

He leans over your body, pressing kisses to your back, and up your neck, until he reaches your ear. “Just know that you’re mine now, and no one can have you but me…” He groans, and pulls his lips slowly away from her. “We’ll have fun together… Won’t we…? My… Little… Doll…” He says as he slowly ruts into you between every word. You cry out every single time his cock rubs against your pussy. He loves your sounds.

“You’re going to do anything to make me happy… Aren’t you, Y/n?” A sadist’s smile is on his face, as he leans close to you once more, his lips brushing against yours. “You’re a beautiful girl. Beautiful… And now you’re mine. Only mine. And I know just how to make you happy…” He leans back as he ends his sentence, and shoves his big cock straight into your hole, absolutely wrecking you. You jump forward on the bed, screaming out, the side of your face rubbing up against your comforter.

He just laughs at your pain, and gives you no time to adjust to his length. He pulls out all the way, and thrusts into you, harder this time.

“Ethan, Ethan! Please.., fuck! ‘S too much…” You try to scramble away from him, dragging yourself up the bed, but he won’t have it. He grabs you by the waist with both hands and roughly slams you back down on his cock. You’re screaming out of pain and pleasure at this point.

“No, no, angel. Don’t fucking run away from me. You’re mine.” He growls again, landing a harsh smack to your ass. You start sobbing, not being able to take it. He mocks your cries.

“Aww, you poor baby.” Another smack. “Crying while you make a mess on my cock.” He grabs you by your hair, forcing you to arch your upper body of the bed. “Tell me,” he grits his teeth. “Do you belong to me?” The smile is now gone. He looks so cold and empty. He looks like a monster. “Tell me, I want to hear you say it. Say that you belong to me, you gorgeous doll…” He says, all while still thrusting harshly into you.

“Y-yes, yes, sir. I belong to you, only you, sir. Need you…” You somehow get out through your sobs. You were almost babbling at this point, the feeling of him railing into you almost addictive. You weren’t lying when you said you needed him.

“That’s a good girl…” He says softly, and you can hear the smile in his voice. “I want you to prove that you belong to me. You need to prove it. Prove your love for me, angel.”

You panic, not knowing what to do. All that you know right now is that his dick is hitting your sweet spot so deliciously right now.

“Uhh- I- Unghh…” You try to speak, but no words come out, just moans and groans.

“Dumb little baby. Drunk off my fucking cock.” He lands another harsh slap to your ass. It barely hurts at this point, you’re starting to really give into him now. Despite his rough thrusts, you back your ass into him, grinding against his cock. He lets out a breathy laugh at that. “Squeezing me so tight, baby. Fuck… look at you.” He says behind you, kneading and squeezing your ass into his hands, spreading your cheeks every now and then to get a full view of him going in and out of you.

The room is full of your moans, Ethan’s grunts, and the sound of him railing into your wet cunt. It’s so dirty, but fuck, you feel so good.

He knows you’re in such a vulnerable state now, and you’ll do whatever he asks you to do. He can tell you’re holding off on cumming, wanting to finish with him. He thinks it’s so sweet. You also just don’t want it to stop, you don’t want to know what will happen after you guys finish. You don’t want him to leave.

“You gonna cum, angel? Gonna finish on my cock, huh? Fuck, make even more of a mess on me, baby. I’m close too… Gonna fill you up, give you a baby. You would like that, wouldn’t you?” He asks, his pace still rough and fast, sending your eyes rolling and your tongue lolling.

“Mhm… Yeah…. Yes… Sir….” You babble, and Ethan smiles at your compliancy.

“So, so good for me, doll.” He gets even rougher as he’s nearing his high, his thrusts getting sloppier and sloppier.

“Fuck, Sir! I’m gonna cum…. Please, let me cum, please!” You scream out, still crying onto your bedsheets. The left side of your face is red and burning.

“Cum for me, sweet angel. I’m right there… Right fucking there…” he groans out.

As soon as he says those words, you reach your own high, screaming and crying out, cursing to the sky. You’ve never been fucked like this before. It’s almost like an out of body experience for you. Your pussy spasms against Ethan’s cock as you orgasm, which makes it hard for him to thrust, but squeezes him so hard he follows right after you.

“Fuck… good girl. Such a perfect angel. Did so well for me. All mine. All fucking mine.” He stills for a moment, and then removes himself from you, and you cry out at the loss of contact. Ethan just laughs at you, quickly sticking his cock back into his jeans. He brings his fingers down to your hole and pushes his semen deep into your pussy, making you groan underneath him.

He leaves the room for a moment, leaving you there on the bed, your bottom half exposed. When he comes back, you’re dead asleep. He smiles to himself at the sight of you while he grabs his knife, ready to leave the scene. He grabs his ghostface mask and places it on your bed, right next to your face. He’s sure you’ll see it first thing once you wake up.

He begins leaving your room when he looks at you one last time before exiting. He stares at your bare pussy, glistening with a mixture of your spent and his cum, slowly seeping out of you. He smiles. He’s finally accomplished the task at hand. Make you his, forever.

[orangeocelotmartyn]

Ren talks about Rats SMP on stream

Transcript under cut

Ren: Yeah, if you haven't been able to tell, by now, Martyn and I are gonna be Pi-Rats. Check how cool this art is, by the way. Right? Like, we're chilling on a--on a ship. I can't give away too much though, you know? The lore's gotta, like, uh, build itself up over the course of the series. But what I can tell you is that my favorite pi- food is cheese pie. And my specialty is treasure hunting and smuggling. Martyn's favorite food is pie. And his specialties are fishing and (through laughter) phishing. Good. Excellent. We may or may not be in the same ship, who knows. Who knows. Also just noticed how cool this is. Martyn has, like, uh-like a pin for a sword? How cool is that? Wait, why don't I have a sword?! I'm a pi-rat also, why don't I have a sword?! Dang it! Okay, wait I have to finish the se-the social media sentence. Uhm, (clears throat, writing as he speaks) "See you soon" (he adds "fellow" in text, but does not say it out loud, instead erasing the sentence.) "Any of the"--wait wait wait, I, ooh, we can continue the lore here. (typing as he talks out loud) "Any of these-any of these rats worthy of joining the crew? Winky P face. Rat emoji." Wait, we can do this, right, (reading through his sentence again, to add three rat emojis to where he once typed 'rat') "any of these rats worthy of joining the crew, winky face, p face, RD." Um…wait. Do we drop the super deep lore already? Potentially.

Ren: Okay, we're gonna drop some super deep lore live here on the uh, on the ole…the ole stream everybody. One second. Lemme find the ole, uh…(chuckles) the super deep lore. Uhm…who says we don't do, uh, exclusive previews on this stream, eh? There we go. (reading his tweet out loud) "The Space Rat has landed! On a Pirate ship…well…actually in a box…that is a ship…but it's a ship nonetheless! Any of these rats worthy of joining the crew? Winky P face. Captain Jaque Levy Lara't." (pauses for emphasis, and to let the post sink in) Boom. Send. Excellent. So, anyway, that's the news. We're in Rats SMP. Super excited, cannot wait. It's gonna be epic. It's gonna be epic epic epic, cannot wait. It's gonna be like, a very lore heavy, uh, experience, for me? Which is gonna be sweet. Not something I've really done before, uh. And of course, getting to lore around with Sausage, and Martyn, and El, and all the other-all the other rats, it's gonna be sweet. So keep your eyeballs open, guys. Coming soon, comin' soon.

[hoshigray]

hii love ur works 🫶🏽

can I req brat reader giving toji the WORST attitude? 💗.

*sinister laugh* Why, yes, you can, noonie! When I saw this, the first scenario that came to mind was the reader being another assassin who likes to get on Toji's nerves. So, imma stick with that!! Had to take an all-nighter to finish this up, hehe~ (no fr tho, it's 8:35 in the morning here) Thank you for loving my stuff, and enjoy~~

A/n: posting this bc I'm staling on my Geto fic since my brain has so much it wants to add...sigh. In the meantime, while I'm working on this, I figured I could drop this as an apology for pulling the fic back (~_~;) My apologies, and I hope y'all like this one! Also tysm for 1.7k followers!! Y'all are too kind and sweet, happy to be writing for you~☆ Cw: hard dom! Toji x bratty fem! reader - you and Toji are assassins on a mission together - explicit content; minors DNI - implied age gap (the reader is at least in their 20s; Toji in his mid-30s or approaching 40s, up to you) - fingering (f! receiving) - cunnilingus - sexual acts in a public place - degradation (brat, crybaby, slut, whore) - Daddy kink - reader talking smack, but Toji teaches you a lesson - tiny praise - pussydrunk! Toji - pet names (baby, doll, princess) - ends with penetration, but mostly Toji eating you out - unprotected sex (PSA: wrap it up, or get the fuck up) - overstimulation - clitoral play (pinching, pushing, and sucking) - mentions of blood. Wc: 1.8k

You recently joined the hitmen field not too long ago. Still young and new to the workforce, it wasn't the first place you figured to enter for some quick cash. But with your astute skills and abilities, no other occupation best suited you. Besides, it wasn't long before people looked past your recent addition and saw what you were made of. Not only were you good at your job, but you were climbing the ranks, swifting past your inferior subordinates.

It's nothing new, though. You were always good at what you do, better than others at what you do. Doing everything perfectly and effortlessly, that was your style. And everybody knew that.

Everybody but a particular individual. A specific man who always overshadowed you. An older man who snatched your attention the first moment he looked your way, the scar on his lip rooted up with the twinge of his lips.

"Rookies lookin' real cute these days, huh, doll?" were his first words to you. And from that day on, you did what you could to get close to him. Even if that meant irritating him.

From taking his missions to acting as a complete thorn in his side, you do whatever it takes to get Toji's attention. Especially his silent pissed off expressions, which are your favorite to see. And don't let your handler tell you that you two would be on a mission together because the teasing would be endless for the poor, experienced hitman.

Just like today, when you two are deployed to kill an old geezer and his goons for a massive sum of money, Toji goes to one side of the old warehouse to thin out the number of bodyguards and heads straight to the target's den, leaving you to the rest. But imagine his surprise when he sees the old man already dead on the chair at his desk, a stiletto pierced right through his neck, evident of his demise as a stream of crimson staining his yellow dress shirt.

And Toji notices a note left on the weapon, the familiar handwriting in pink with a kiss mark already tells him who wrote it. "Gotta be quicker than that, Grandpa ~" is what he reads in your charming voice, and it vexes him knowing you beat him to the punch.

He sees you leaning on a pallet rack when he returns to the warehouse, and you smile when you turn to him. "Well, that was fast," you play coy, stretching when standing straight up. "Took care of those punks like five minutes ago, figured I'd wait on you."

"I got your note." He wastes no time. He's so hot when he does that.

"Oh? Did ya like it~?" Your hand swiftly grabs something that came dangerously close to your temple — your stiletto. It was thrown with the knowledge that you would catch it. So serious, huh.

"Ya know, for someone callin' me a 'grandpa,' you sure act like a damn kid leavin' y'r toys everywhere."

You chuckle at his complaint. "Awww, did I hurt your big boy feelings with my little words?" You see his green eyes watch your every move as you walk up close to him. "Sorry~, not my fault you were too slow to get the final kill."

Toji raises a brow. "How'd ya get to him before me?"

You shrug with a cheeky grin. "Assassins don't tell their secrets, especially when your old head couldn't get it."

It's his turn to chortle. "Oh yeah? Ya think y'r too fast for me?"

"I wouldn't say that, just that you're too slow for me," your hands go up defensively when he takes a step forward, and you try hard to not get turned on by his well-built physique displayed by the shirt that does a terrible job hiding his features. "As a matter of fact, I bet you're slow at other things."

He takes another step forward, and before you register his next move, he already has you pinned to the pallet rack you once leaned against. His smirk grows broader while your eyes widen at the sudden shifting. "Was that too slow fr' you, princess?"

No, absolutely not. That's what you would want to say to him, his tall figure engulfing you under his presence. But you didn't want to let off that easily, your hand finding the crotch of his pants. When verdant eyes shut to the feeling of your fingers brushing against his bulge, you take the chance to say more. "Oh, that was totally too slow for me, geezer. Such a shame; I thought you'd be a lot more fun. But guess I'll have to go on to the next person who could do a better job."

"Mmm, don't start somethin' y'r not ready for, brat." His gruff voice dials to a whisper, your ears replaying the tone, making the throbbing sensation between your legs prosper. You can feel his erection, even with his pants blocking the view. "Good luck findin' someone who'd shut that pretty mouth of y'rs better than I do."

You giggle after grabbing onto his erect cock, forcing the older man to hiss and his face coming down to your level. You whisper to his ear. "And what makes you think a dumb, old, brute-for-brains like you could satisfy me? I fail to see what you're capable of, grandpa." Those were the words you chose to entice the man under your spell.

But what you really failed to see was the predicament you've gotten yourself in.

Lying on a pallet with your back, your pretty bottoms and panties now discarded to the dirty floor, you scream out to the empty warehouse. Tears and drool escape from your face, and the quiver in your legs is evidence of your body going through the absolute most right now. "Haaahh! Ahhhh!! T-Tojiii, Toji, please!! I'm—Hoooohh!!" You grab tufts of raven hair that are stationed between your legs.

The older man holds your legs up with one hand, the other nestled between your slick-coated folds as his middle and forefinger push in and out of your cunt. His tongue licks furiously on your clitoris, your cries evident of the abuse on your tender bud and vulva.

Toji removes the wet muscle and moves his fingers go an instantaneous pace, the tips of his digits scraping your walls resulting in more tears falling off your face without fail. He snickers, "Look at you; all that screamin' and hollerin' like a damn whore have you forgetting simple rules." His thumb finds your clit, pushing down on it every time his fingers are propelled inside. "What did I tell you to call me, brat?"

The unforgiving rhythm of his hand on your bare vulva has you seeing stars and choking on your spit. "I-I'm sorry, Daddy!! I didn't mean to make you mad at me!"

"You sure 'bout that?" His condescending tone matched the devilish twinge of his scarred lips. The digits doing a 'come hither' motion that has your body jerking nowhere, your legs still restrained by his firm arm pushing them to your stomach. "My 'big boy feelings' were crushed with y'r little comments, so here I am gettin' the payback I need. Was acting all high and mighty until I got my mouth on ya."

"But I said—Mmmph!! I'm sorry!" You wail out, your face hot with embarrassment and excitement. "And I already came—Oh fuck...C-Came three times!!"

"You called me names four times, so I expect you to cum one more time, you fuckin' crybaby." He replies coldly, your tears and pleas on deaf ears. "Heh, if I knew havin' my fingers in you like this would have you behavin', I woulda done it earlier. Grippin' on my 'em like a damn slut."

His fingers go faster with no smooth transition as his mouth returns to your soft button, your screams erupting from the back of your exhausted throat. Even with your voice filling the scene, you can only listen to the raunchy noises of the commotion between your thighs. It's enough for you to wish your ears burn at such lewd sounds, and your head pounding worsens the state of your already mushy brain. This is what you wanted all this time — to have the man you've been infatuated with give you the attention to so dearly strived and poked for. However, the intensity of it all was nowhere near what you had expected.

"Nnnmm!! Daddyyy," the title slurred from your mouth feels hot to the tongue, but it's the only way to address him before your punishment intensifies. You peer down to see his black hair come up, fierce emerald eyes taking in your expressions. "It's coming, gonna cum again!!"

"Yeah? Wanna come on my fingers again?" He chortles when you rapidly nod at him, pathetically desperate for your release. "Fine, cum on Daddy's fingers like the slut you are." He moves his hands to the back of your thighs and has his tongue slowly glide up your soapy chasm, tasting your wetness until he reaches your clitoris and attacks the bud more. Circling around and sucking on your precious nub prompts your orgasm to climb up, and it hits you hard when his teeth and tongue grind on your clit.

With final moans of pleasure, you experience your finish with the harsh treatment of Toji's mouth, hands purchasing his hair for faux stability. Your legs tremble with curled toes, and your body jolts with the shocks. And Toji doesn't stop until he licks the slit clean of your essence, slurping up your sensitive folds until his thirst has quenched. All you can do is submit and let him have his way with you, sucking up your fluids from your cunt to the mess of your inner thighs.

"Mmmm, fucking Christ, Y/n," you hear his mumbled curse below. "Taste so fuckin' good, baby..."

Your body soon calms down from the climax, trying to steady your breathing with even breaths. And Toji finally finishes drinking your wetness, drawing his head up to reveal his lips wet with your come, licking it and his fingers. "Bet that wasn't slow fr' ya, huh."

You meekly nod your head. "And I bet nobody's gonna make you shut you up like that, huh?" You nod again.

The smirk on his face scares you, especially when he straightens up to show his erect dick still hard and ready to be free from the tented pants. And when his cock springs out, your sweaty body runs cold immediately.

"Good," he says while bringing you close to him, arranging his cock to your wet entrance. "But we ain't done here." Complaints and pleas aren't able to enter the air because you just watch the tip of his cock bully through the lips of your chasm and enter inside you with ease. He gradually pushes his entire length into you, getting full with every inch as his girth intrudes between your tight, smooth walls.

"Keep up wit' me, baby," his eyes hone in on you, gauging your reactions before he starts moving his hips relentlessly. "because I'm about to show you what I'm really capable of."

[cottoncandyswisherz]

bae i luh you

peaches asked, so i delivered because who am i to say no to a god?

bf!chris x gf!reader

warnings: fluff, HATING ASS HOE, suggestive, swearing,

-

the bass was BOOMING in the tara's living room. today was nicks second space camp drop and ms. yummy insisted on celebrating with a party because of course.

as y/n stepped into the house she was assaulted by the smell of alcohol and sweat.

someone needed a fucking speedstick because DAMN!

anyway, she was brought out of her thoughts by her boyfriends arm being snaked around her waist as she walked. 

"you alright chris?" she asked.

"yeah im good. im just not trynna get fucked up tonight, so you gotta stay close." he reassured her.

"i wasn't leaving your side anyway." she said, grabbing his hand and making her way to their crew. "SUP SLUTS?" she shouted and everybody cheered. 

and the night went on just like that. 

taking a shot for solidarity, partying with their friends, and losing themselves in the night. everyone danced and enjoyed each othe

r. chris and y/n particularly enjoyed each other. 

suddenly y/n's new favorite song came on. as soon as she heard that "i say HOOOOO BABBYYYYY" a switch flipped. 

the moment was no longer about enjoying the feeling of chris being semi-hard on her ass. it was about letting the whole house know that he was hers.

and wreck-it ralph himself couldn't break that. 

so she did what any self-respecting woman would do. she began screaming the lyrics to him while moving her body and making heart hands. 

bae i love you you my everything im yo main bitch fuck a wedding ring

chris just laughed and began singing along with her, pulling her body to his, so their noses were touching. 

in this moment, y/n realized how much she loved chris. what she'd do for him. she'd keep every secret. she'd lie for him. she'd kill for him. she'd die for him. she'd live for him. 

did it scare her? fuck yes. 

she was supposed to be a pimp, not a lover girl. and she only knew this man for a year. but if president sexyy can be tied down than so can she.

i only knew him for a week but i swear thats my boo i might let the nigga trap me bitch my summer through but dont give a fuck do anythang for you

the couple was in la la land (ryan gosling hit me up!) as they danced and laughed and loved up on each other. 

to the untrained eye, it was disgusting. but to their friends, it was the moment they'd all been waiting for.

matt smiled with pride at the side of chris being with who he really wanted to be with, rather than who he think people want him to be with.

nick was shocked at chris being so openly in a relationship after physically cringing at the mere thought of sharing a scooter with a girl, but happy for him nonetheless.

tara was damn near in tears, seeing y/n being her true soft self.

jake was wishing he had someone he could be gross and cute with.

tril (who introduced the pair) was just glad chris was finally getting non-toxic pussy and y/n was getting the dick she deserved.

but of course the moment had to be ruined. 

there's always a bitch ass bitch trying to  kill the vibe. 

or should i say, a bitch ass bum.

as soon as the couple saw who'd been standing there staring at them like monkeys in a zoo, they made eye contact and simultaneously busted out laughing.

"what do you want bruh?" chis asked, sighing in an attempt to control his giggling.

"you're fucking with her after we just broke up two weeks ago?" she nudged her head in y/n's direction, which only changed her mood from wildly entertained to mildy irritated. 

"i'm not just 'fucking with' her." chris responded bluntly. "she's my girlfriend. my girl. friend." chris made sure to enunciate his words because he knew this girl was a little slow. "something you would have had to been for us to 'break up'. which we never did. because we never dated." he pulled y/n into his side and made sure she was good before he looked back at his old talking stage.

y/n was more than good. her pussy flooded when chris called her his girlfriend. 

nigga we go together tell them hoes we go together

"but-"

 this bitch still fucking here?

"but nothing hoe." y/n butt in, deciding to handle this situation herself. she stepped to the girl and looked her good in the eyes, to make sure she felt every word. "he just told you he has a girlfriend so get the fuck on and find something safe to do."

the girl cowered and walked away without another peep. leaving chris and y/n to embrace each other with passion and love and lust and all the other good feelings.

it was official. everyone knew they were together. 

everyone knew that they were each others. 

what more could a retired pimp ask for?

niyah speaks luh part two to feed yall for the week

taglist: @mattslolita @muwapsturniolo @mattssluttygf @zniyadgaf

remember that if no one loves you, mommy loves you (and by mommy i mean me)

[irisintheafterglow]

volleyball player bf!suguru never lets you drive anywhere. ever.

the silver volleyball charm clinks against the rest of the items swinging tauntingly above your head. it was the charm you bought him while your family was off on vacation, and now you were silently cursing the recipient's stubbornness.

"give me the fucking- what the hell are you doing?" curse him and his unnaturally long limbs. you jab a finger at his torso, colliding with immovable ab muscle; he doesn't even flinch, continuing to hold the keys just out of reach. your arm swings hopelessly back and forth, trying to hook a finger onto the keyring. it'd been about six minutes, you guessed, since you were supposed to leave with suguru to meet satoru and shoko at the restaurant. you could already imagine the melodrama of having satoru be the one to ask for a table for four. "babe, please give me the-"

"nope. get in," he states evenly with the slightest raise of his eyebrows. with one hand, he dangles the keys and opens the passenger side door with the other.

"we're gonna be late."

"you better get your sexy ass in the car, then, my distinguished president." he tries to keep his voice stoic and fails miserably, a smirk sneaking its way onto his face. "i'm driving."

"i said i would drive."

"and who's holding the keys?" you roll your eyes and poke his side again, but his resolve is unwavering. his head tilts toward the open side door again. "c'mon, we gotta go."

"you really don't need to do all of this anymore," you concede before stepping into the vehicle.

"yeah, but i still want to," he replies before shutting the door. his pretty mouth quirks in satisfaction and he arrogantly spins the keys on his finger while he walks around the front of the car, sliding into the driver's seat next to you. his bicep flexes next to your ear as he backs out of the driveway of your apartment complex. when he's on the road, his hand finds your thigh and unconsciously rubs circles on your skin with his thumb. despite the affection, your irritation is obvious.

"you mad at me?"

"not mad," you mutter, "just annoyed."

"that i'm driving?"

"that you insist on driving even though i got my license months ago. it's like... you don't trust me." you shrug and stare back out at the blurry cityscape passing by. he exhales deeply and you hear the tiniest "shit" from beside you. his hand leaves your thigh to drag it over his face guiltily before returning to the wheel.

"you know why i insist on driving you everywhere, right?" you nod. even before he officially became your boyfriend, suguru was asking if you needed a ride to a conference or event after just knowing you for a few weeks. he's always on time, always meets you at the door, always waits on your bedroom floor if you're still getting ready. watching you prepare for a date, he said, was one of his favorite things in the world.

"because you're used to it." your face starts to burn in shame, embarrassment rising at the memory of everyone around you having their license while you just kept failing over and over and over. it was even harder and took much longer to explain why you didn't like driving in the first place, how being behind the wheel was a level of responsibility you still weren't sure how to handle. how pathetic, being the administrative head of all the student activities in your school and yet you still needed your parents to give you a ride. it was the biggest weight on your shoulders, feeling like a burden to everybody else, but suguru was adamant that he didn't mind.

"because i want to do it. i never wanna have you worrying about needing a ride or driving somewhere ever again." his eyes shine in the fading afternoon sun, soft and tender as his voice. "you're too incredible to be worrying about shit like that, so let me take care of it. let me take care of you."

"i love you...more than anything."

"i love you too, babe."

"even though you cart me around everywhere?"

"especially because you let me cart you around everywhere," he winks. i'm gonna marry you someday, geto suguru. "can you let satoru know we're almost there and for him to grab a table if he hasn't already?" you chuckle at his earnestness and he raises an eyebrow in question.

"you have too much faith in him, su." his mouth falls open in exasperation and you have to push his face back to focus on the road.

"he hasn't left yet? we said 6:00!" he huffs, blowing a strand of hair from his forehead only for it to fall back into place. your fingers gently brush it away and tuck it behind his ear.

"he runs on satoru time, what do you expect?"

"whoever let him get behind a wheel needs their sanity checked," he concludes as he pulls into a spot and you're trying to stifle your giggles. "whatever," he sighs in defeat.

"it's okay. just gives you more time to keep showing how much you love me."

driving people is a love language, argue with the wall but anyway hope you enjoyed

likes, reblogs, and replies are always appreciated <3

[just-a-ghost00]

You got mail 💌

Let’s find out what the person on your mind has to say to you. Pick one of the following emojis and discover your reading.

🌍 🩵 🌄 🤠

Group 1 🌍

I may not show it to you but I am really happy we met. Everyday with you feels like a new adventure. Though we are worlds apart and so different from each other, I really feel like we match perfectly. You make me feel like I belong. Every moment spent with you is so much fun. It makes me want to jump forward and explore. You are so sweet and generous, so playful that I can’t help but to play along. I feel so lucky being with you. There is so much I want to do with you. I want to hang out with you and get to know you more. Maybe we could have a couple drinks, play in a park, have a little date by the river… if you wish. I feel so boring compared to you. With me, everything is always black and white. But you, my love, are so colorful and bright. I wish we were a family. I wish I could wake up in the morning to find you sitting at the table, eating breakfast with a smile on your face. I wish I could share with you my favorite spots and take you to every place I get to see. I wish I could find a way to express all that you mean to me. I tend to see the glass half empty. But when I’m with you I want to believe everything is possible. You have filled my cup with your love and I am so thankful for that. I can’t find the words to tell you how much I owe to you. You’ve made me a better person and I feel like I could never return the favor.

Group 2 🩵

I may look like all is well and fine but to tell you the truth I feel hollow. And I could use some fun. I always seem so busy, always the life of the party, making everybody laugh and ensuring they have a good time. But deep inside, it’s getting tough. As the days go by, I feel my energy depleting and my motivation as well. I don’t even know why I do this anymore. I force myself for the sake of keeping appearances but honestly I’m not sure I like it at all. I’m afraid that if you dig deep enough, you wouldn’t like what you find there. I am much more fragile than I seem. Also much more mellow and soft when I get the chance. But lately I’m more of a zombie than anything. I don’t think I could bring you much joy nor comfort. I’m afraid I’ve turned bitter. It’s all about work and making sure the money gets in and less about enjoying what I’m doing. I need to pay the bills. There’s competition around. I can’t afford to lose. Everyone’s counting on me. People look up to me. I sacrificed a lot to get there. I can’t back down now. Who would I be if I did? I can’t disappoint. It’s all a masquerade but it’s for a cause. It might not look great to you but it means a lot to me. So, sorry if I’m acting cold but… it’s all for you baby. Don’t go thinking I found someone better. Believe me I don’t have the time for that.

Group 3 🌄

Hold on a minute ! I know what you’re gonna think. What the heck is he/she saying? But hey, let me explain you’ll get it ! I may not be the strongest, the wisest or the most impressive of them all but one thing that’s sure about me is that I only have good intentions for you. I am ready to fight for you if that must be done. Thought I’m not good at that. Listen, my point is I really like you. I want to be with you, have fun with you, chat with you. I want us to take our time and get to know each other and hopefully to grow old together but that’s another story. With you I feel like a kid again. Sometimes, I gotta say, the feeling can be irritating. But at the same time it is freeing. I don’t have to chose a side. I don’t have to act a certain way to be accepted by you or understood. And that’s crazy! I’ve never experienced that before. Usually I would try to conform and play nice, show my best side and stick to the plan. But ever since I met you I want to free myself of those restraints. I want to find my home. I want to express my full potential without fearing being rejected or not belonging. I know you’ll never kick me out. Because you are the same aren’t you? The things I’ve seen, what I’ve been through, you’ve been there as well, right? I want to make a promise to you. Whatever comes our way, I swear I won’t run away. Even though it is scary and seems impossible, I will always work hard and do my best to make it. I may not be exactly your type or what you imagined a partner should be, but I am willing to learn. I am willing to tune to your melody and shelter whatever we may build together, not matter how unstable it may seem. I want you to feel comfortable with me. I want you to feel as safe with me as I feel with you. So if you’ll let me, let me fulfill that promise. You won’t regret it.

Group 4 🤠

To be honest, at first I didn’t get the best of vibes from you. I was a little intimidated and didn’t want to get to know you. Especially considering what people were saying about you. But I tried to see past your exterior and once I got to know you I found out that you were very chill. Maybe it was because I didn’t know you. Maybe I feared the unknown territory you represented. Maybe I was just afraid of going deep. But curiosity got the best of me. And luckily for both of us I stayed around long enough to make my own opinion. And I have to say that you are quite surprising. I won’t lie, being with you asks a lot of efforts on my part. But every second spent with you is worth it. In your presence, I feel comfortable. Being with you reminds me of my childhood. I think of my mother and my family, of the days we spent together before I moved away and followed the wind where it took me. Every page of our story takes me deeper within. I see sides of myself I never noticed or didn’t want to remember. I remember the innocent days where doing something new weren’t as terrifying and meeting new people sounded like a thrill. Being with you I feel blessed and content. There’s a light heartedness and a warmth in my heart I wouldn’t trade for anything. When I’m alone at home you’re all I think about. When I’m at work also. There isn’t a single moment when you’re not on my mind. When I’m with you I feel hopeful. I think that maybe life isn’t as tough as I thought it would be. That maybe there is more waiting for me. Please, show me more of your different sides. Tell me more about what makes you happy. Let me in and let me see for myself what you are made of. I’m begging you don’t shut me out. I want more of you.

[brooooswriting]

Hello I love your work! Can I request a Sam carpenter x reader fic with a younger reader who is part of the friend group and is kind of shy but also kind like too kind for her own good and Sam just being whipped whenever she looks at reader doing something

Just a little whipped

Sam Carpenter x reader

You first started being friends with Mindy, she was a nice girl. Friendly, snarky, funny and loyal, she would describe you the same, which was the reason why she introduced you to the rest of the friend group, Chad, Anika and Tara. Everybody loved you, you were a bit shy but extremely nice, you would do everything for nearly everybody. That was probably what made it easy for them to trust you, you always respected their boundaries and were there for them when the aftermath of the attacks took their toll on them.

As much as you liked all of them, Sam was your absolute favorite. She was really nice most of the time, overprotective, strong, soft and just really cute. Not everyone would describe her like that but to you she was nothing else than that. But you were to shy to realize that she might just think about you that way too.

It was crazy how whipped Sam was for you, Tara and the rest of the group often let her know as they constantly made fun of her for it. They were also surprised how you couldn’t notice, you just thought that she was nice because you, yourself, were often way too nice. Even after a lot of arguments nobody could make Sam believe that you actually like her.

“We just gotta pick up y/n and then we can go get lunch” Mindy said as the friend group walked down the street, her hand holding Anika’s. As soon as your name was said Sams face showed a smile making Tara smirk. “God, you’re whipped” she laughed out until her sister glared at her which made her shut up, she could be scary. They waited in front of the building for about a minute before you came sprinting towards them, and while Chad for some reason thought that he was gonna be the one to get the first hug, you ran past him and hugged Sam, “hey” you mumbled out as she hugged you back, she was about 6 inches taller than you so your head landed on her chest as her arm wrapped around your shoulder. “Hello?” Chad said with his arms still wide open and shock on his face causing you to giggle and part from Sam, her face showing disappointment. You hugged Chad and then the rest before settling back with Sam.

You guys went to a small pizza place not far away where you sat in a bench not far away, the place was warm not like the weather outside as it was freezing. You sat at the edge of one of the benches next to Mindy and in front of the older carpenter who sent you a soft smile. Not even 10 minutes after you ordered Mindy started to complain, “ugh, I should have gotten something to drink” her sigh was loud which made you giggle as you stood up, “I’ll get you something, does somebody else want something?” You asked and everybody nodded. “I’ll come with you” the older woman immediately offered making everybody grin.

“Thank you” you said as you waited for the drinks at the counter, “for what?” Confusion was spread over her face which made you giggle, “for helping me with the drinks”. “You don’t always gotta say thank you you know?” She asked with a hand on your arm, the skin immediately tingling. “Sorry, it’s a habit” just as you finished her phone rang, ‘Danny’. “I’m sorry I gotta answer that, I’ll be right back” she said before walking outside.

You carried as many drinks as you could, the man behind the counter helping you due to the fact that you were so unbelievably nice to him. It’s been about 10 minutes that Sam has been outside without a jacket so you stood up again and grabbed it, “where you going?” Anika asked as she looked up, “bringing Sam her jacket, I don’t want her to get sick” you answered before walking outside to find her in front of the store on FaceTime with a boy. “Your jacket, you must be freezing” you said as you gave her the jacket, a smile grazing over her features. While she mumbled a thank you the guy on the phone spoke up, “ohhh is that Tara’s friends you’ve been…” she sent him a quick look which immediately shut him up. “Don’t be too long before your pizza gets cold, or I can bring it outside if you want” Sam shook her head and told you that she’d come back inside soon which made you go back, her eyes following you until she couldn’t see you anymore. “Bro, you are whipped”

You sat back down on the bench and were about to start eating when everybody started asking questions, “so who is she talking to?” Tara asked as you played with the straw in your soda, “cute boy from next door” you answered before taking a bite of your pizza. “Oh, I’m sorry” Mindy and Chad said at the same time which made you look down at your plate, Sam coming back a moment later. “Sorry” she only said before she started eating.

“There is literature evening kinda thing from my literature lecture, I’m presenting some of my poems and I just wanted to let you guys know in case you wanna come. You don’t have to, there might be a crowd and I know that’s not your thing, so just think about it” it amazed them every time how considerate you were, it was crazy really, the main reason you invited them was because you wanted familiar faces in the crowd but you still gave them an option. Sams gaze softened when she realized why you wanted them there and how considerate you were about their feelings.

When you payed it was already dark outside and while the rest decided to go to the carpenter apartment you decided to go home, you didn’t wanna see cute boy. “Thanks for the invite but I will just go to my dorm. I’ll see you alright?” You told them ready to part to walk the shortcut to the campus, “wait, we will walk you home” Mindy offered but you shook your head, “it’s fine. It’s really cold, so go get inside” they smiled at you and waved goodbye. “I’ll walk you home” Sams tone left no room for discussion so you two and the rest parted.

“Why are you going home already?” She asked as you walked side by side in the cold wind of New York. “I still gotta look over some of the poems for Friday and I promised my roomie that I’d help her with English” it wasn’t a complete lie but you actually just didn’t wanna see cute boy. “You know that she uses your kindness right?” Sam asked as she referred to your roommate, she looked down at you to find you shivering while shrugging your shoulders. Her heart melted seeing you like this and without a second thought she wrapped her arm around your shoulder and pulled you into her, her warmth immediately reducing your shivering. “God, you’re freezing” she mumbled as she pulled you even closer.

A couple of minutes later you were at your dorm, “I’d invite you in but I think there are people waiting for you” you said as you unlocked your room, standing in the door way in front of Sam. She kept silent, just looking at you, “well, thanks for keeping me warm. I’ll see you” you leaned forward and kissed her cheek softly before walking inside and closing the door.

The next time you saw Sam was 3 days later, the group hasn’t seen you either as you were busy stressing over the event and you didn’t wanna stress in front of them as you were scared that they’d feel forced to come. So you kept to yourself and used studying as an excuse.

Your professor started the event, he greeted everybody and then went backstage. You were the second one outside, you were extremely scared but went out nonetheless. You suddenly stopped when you saw who sat in the first row, in the middle of a crowd, Sam. While you were extremely happy to see her, it made your nervousness worse. “My name is y/n and I’ll read a poem I wrote myself for a very special person in my life

Most people like blue eyes

But I’ve found that they only hide lies

Others prefer the color green

As it reminds them of a land scene

And I used to think that too,

Until I met you

Suddenly my favorite color was brown

And your laugh my favorite sound

I love how your voice sends shivers down my spine

And how your eyes shine.

How you wrap your arm around my shoulder to keep me warm

And always make time to walk me to my dorm

I can’t tell you when I fell for you

I only hope that you fell for me too”

Not my best one but hey it works

By now you saw the rest of the group in the back, Sam was looking up at you with a sparkle in her eyes. There was no denying that she was swooning, the first time you realized the way she looks at you.

You went back backstage where you found Tara, “dude, this is so cute. Sams so in Love with you, it’s crazy” you shook your head. “She’s not in love with me, she has cute boy” you denied but before Tara could say something a voice behind you spoke up. “That was great y/n” Mindy said and as you were about to answer your phone rang.

“Come outside xx” -Sam

You smiled and told the others that you’d be outside real quick. With each step you went closer, your heartbeat quickened and you got more and more nervous. “Hey” you mumbled while playing with your fingers as you stood in front of her, “you did so great in there, it was such a nice poem” she told you and hugged you close to her chest, your arms wrapping around her waist. “Thanks” you took all your braveness together before you spoke out again, “it was about you” you looked up at her, noticing a slight blush on her face. She didn’t say anything as she lowered her head to place a soft kiss on your lips, her hand softly cradling your jaw with her thumb stroking over your cheek. Her lips were soft and the kiss was filled with passion which quickly turned to need.

In a matter of Moments she had you pressed against the outside of the building, kissing you. You only pulled away when someone coughed behind you, your face immediately hiding itself in her jacket which made everyone laugh. “You’re so cute” she mumbled as she pressed a kiss to your head and wrapped her arms tighter around you.

A/n: thinking about a part two

[keresnotceres]

TF 141: General Headcanons

[sfw] cw: substance use, mention of injury

some of these are so stupid i’m sorry

Has never taken a nap in his life. Literally never. If he says he’s “going to take a nap” no he’s not. He’s going to lay in his bed and talk shit about people to himself.

Is not allowed to watch any war movie whatsoever. Will either complain about how inaccurate the warfare or death scenes are or will pass the fuck out. Head tilted back on the couch, arms crossed, legs spread. Neck pain for DAYS.

Prefers handheld consoles like the DS or Gameboy to any home consoles. Likes to feel that it’s his and if anyone wants to take it away from him, they’ll have to pry it from his strong ass grip.

SPEAKING OF. If you hand him like anything to hold onto he will have the tightest fucking grip on it. Bro it’s not gonna run away from you!!! Be gentle!!!

Casual smoker. Picked up the habit from being around Price too much and now he likes to smoke away stress with a cigarette or two.

Constantly hits his head getting out of cars. Literally cannot catch a break due to underestimating how tall he is compared to any vehicle.

Finds it very difficult to smile, even if he’s happy. Showing emotion in general is really hard for him, usually will only do it around people he trusts the most. Showing emotion to someone makes him feel vulnerable and weak, the complete opposite of how he presents himself.

Finds comfort in making tiny wood trinkets. Likes the motions of carving and having complete control over the little statue. Usually makes them when he’s on leave so that he doesn’t have to go out and that he isn’t distracted on base. He often gives carvings as gifts to his teammates/loved ones.

Shows affection through smaller, less noticeable gesture. Remembers small details about yourself or stories you tell; likes to bring you small trinkets he’s made that resemble things you’ve mentioned you like. Will talk to you about your interests, like what books or movies you like, and will have in depth conversations about your favorite parts of them.

Cracks his knuckles like way too much for it to be normal. He’s gotta have joint pain, because god damn the entire team hears it throughout the day. Just woke up? Cracking his knuckles. Doing paperwork? Cracking his knuckles. Does it on purpose to tick off Soap sometimes.

Absolutely LOVES making playlists/mixtapes for his friends. If you ask him to compile a list of songs that reminds him of you it will be in your hands in less than a day.

Is the friend that you go to when you don’t know what you need, but it’s something. You wanna go out and drink? He’s down. You just want to hang out at home and watch something? Get cozy! You need to gossip about someone? Fuck yeah.

Was probably the kid in school that everybody knew of but nobody was like good friends with. Like everybody liked him, he was cool, but he just didn’t like anyone else.

The only person in the 141 who can somewhat dance. Can he bust a life-altering move if the dance floor? Not really, but he definitely can do a few basic moves and can actually get with the rhythm. Prefers to listen to music than dance to it.

Probably called Price ‘Dad’ accidentally when talking to his civilian friends and had to backtrack so hard he almost choked on a saltine cracker.

Mastered the art of looking like he’s paying attention when he’s really not. Useful when it comes to the boring ass stories some of the COs go off on tangents about.

Terrific at word games, especially Scrabble. Catch him with only vowels and he will be making words you didn’t even know existed. However, he’s not the greatest at Monopoly. He thinks he’s going to win when he doesn’t buy much first round but ends up going bankrupt after having to pay everyone for their properties.

Will not let you live any embarrassing moment down. Never. He is no man’s peace. You tripped over nothing? He’ll remind you of it for the next four days. You misspelled a word in a message or on paper? He’s repeating it until he forgets it. You opened a cabinet and proceeded to whack yourself in the face with the door? He’ll be laughing at the image in his head for WEEKS.

Can braid like a motherfucker. You have no idea how he learned how to braid, but holy shit he’s good at it. Literally just loves playing with your hair regardless of length. The feeling of twirling little pieces between his fingers his just really calming to him.

Was absolutely a Pokémon kid. Has an obnoxious card collection at his parents’ house that he constantly sorts through whenever he goes to visit them. Can and will show off pictures of the rarer, expensive cards he has to anyone who understands.

Likes people-watching because he likes to make up random stories about everyone who walks by. The woman talking aggressively on the phone? Her fiancé is trying to get her to sign a prenup.

Can only cry if he’s watching a really sad scene from a movie or show. Marley and Me had his ass sobbing in the theater.

Likes babysitting his nieces/nephews whenever he’s on leave. He likes having some sense of normalcy and the feeling of having a family of his own, even if they’re just his siblings’ kids.

In his flat, he sleeps with like six blankets year-round. Even in the midst of a heatwave he’s got all six just piled on top of him, sweating his damn ass off.

Likes picking up random bullet casings he finds when on missions. Like a crow.

Hates the beach with a fiery passion. No, he doesn’t wanna go get sand in every crevice of his skin and article of clothing. He also doesn’t want to feel that weird mixture of sticky and smooth for an uncertain amount of time after getting out of the ocean.

Will NEVER be caught lacking when it comes to working out on leave. Rises with the sun and hauls ass to the gym so that he can keep those tasty biceps looking good. Has Ghost’s leg day routine memorized due to being subjected to it for so long.

Likes to be close to you no matter what. Eating? Sat right next to you, eating his own meal. Debriefing? Standing halfway behind you. On a mission? Standing right next to you, gun in hand, just a hair away from physical connection.

Loves going shopping, especially when it’s with you. Will pick out the most obnoxious shirts, put them to his body, and ask “would this look good on me?” Gives constructive criticism on anything you pick out, uses it to comment on how good he thinks you look lmfao.

Almost burned his house down after burning a candle and is now afraid of ever lighting a candle ever again. No, he doesn’t care if it smells good. Do not light that damn thing in his house!!

Had a lighter collection when he was younger, but somehow managed to lose all of them except the most boring, plain white one. Has never bought any other color of lighter since.

Is not allowed to recommend movies because it will either be a boring war movie, a really old movie, or a really old and boring war movie. His music taste is somewhat better than his movie taste.

Can hold his damn liquor but refuses to get involved in drinking games because he doesn’t want to partake in “alcohol poisoning the game.”

Has the dad sneeze. It could be nice and silent and then all of a sudden there’s just an ungodly noise coming from Price’s general area. It encompasses the entire room. It strikes fear into new recruits. It’s not until Soap says ‘bless you’ that anyone realizes it was even a sneeze.

Has gotten drunk in his office with Laswell on more than one occasion and ends up talking about dumb shit he’s done in the past. Gaz walked into Price’s office to scrounge up a pen and instead left with the knowledge that Price split his head open when he was 15 after riding his bike straight into a wall.

Calls you names like “Love” or “Dear” by reflex. You don’t even have to be together for it to happen, it just slips out of his mouth. He apologizes more often than not until you tell him that you’re okay with it.

Literal heater. Exudes heat like no other. Oh, you’re cold? Stand next to him for like five minutes and you’ll be warm in no time. 9 times out of 10 his hands are warmer than yours.

Isn’t really into soccer/football but will always watch a game if it’s on. Is always stood up, hands on his hips, watching intensely and making weird noises at every move made on the field.

Is like, astronomically good at cooking but only when it comes to basic foods. Makes an absolute banger grilled cheese but dear god don’t let him attempt any sort of casserole. His fettuccine alfredo? Fantastic. His steaks? Phenomenal. Any baked goods however… Good luck.

Owns a shirt that just says “Father.” and will wear it out occasionally when he’s on leave. Has never told anyone about this shirt, he doesn’t even know why he has it.

[generalllimaginesss]

jackhughes

Liked by elblue6 and others

jackhughes I’ve never been one for sappy posts, but this past year with this little one has been heaven on earth. I’ve heard so many parents complain about lack of sleep, crying, and so many other things, but how can you complain when there’s something so innocent looking at you like this angel looks at us? I’d do this over a million times if it meant you stay this little forever. Happy first birthday. Always and forever going to be my little girl.

view comments

lhughes_06 Thanks for making me the favorite uncle, bro.

_quinnhughes You’re not the favorite.

lhughes_06 Oh my bad, I’ve never heard her say your name so I thought she just didnt know you existed🫢

_quinnhughes she’s one. How tf is she supposed to say a “q” when she’s one?? I wasn’t the one that was 2 days late to the birth because of “plans that you couldn’t get out of.” 🫢

jackhughes if Quinn didn’t live in the middle of nowhere Canada he’d be the favorite by a long shot🫢

elblue6 I could not have chose a better daughter-in-love or granddaughter for my sweet boy. Nonna and Poppa love all three of you beyond words! Also, is my little angel walking yet?

y/nhughes We love you more! She’s not quite able to walk on her own yet, but Jack is making sure she learns to skate before she walks😉

elblue6 I expected nothing less coming from him lol!

trevorzegras it’s cute watching Quinn and Luke argue over who the favorite uncle is when I’m holding her right now. She may not be able to say my name, but she sure as hell cries when I’m not holding her 🫢

_quinnhughes you traumatize her so much when you hold her that she has to let it out when you’re not.

lhughes_06 she probably has ptsd from looking at your face

trevorzegras anyways, happy birthday to my sidekick. Can’t wait to piss your mom and dad off together when you’re older🫶

nicohischier the best thing to come from a Hughes brother. Happy birthday, love!

jackhughes that was a very unnecessary backhanded compliment, Nico.

lhughes_06 I once brought you brownies to practice. I’m hurt.

nicohischier You’re brownies were burnt.

_quinnhughes are you comparing our niece to burnt brownies Luke?

lhughes_06 Quinn, you’re irrelevant.

colecaufield since everybody else ruined your sappy post…Buddy you’re the best dad. She’s absolutely perfect, just like her mom.

trevorzegras I’m deceased

jackhughes I may not be perfect, but at least I’m not Zegras’s bitch

jackhughes sorry I meant caddy. Damn autocorrect.

y/nhughes love you coley!

jackhughes really y/n?

_alexturcotte happy birthday to my favorite baby. make another one so I can have 2 favorites.

jackhughes gotta talk to y/n about that. If it were up to me we’d have 12.

y/nhughes you can have all the babies you want when you push them out :)

y/nhughes our beautiful little family. You both make life so precious.

jackhughes we would be lost without Mama💜

y/nhughes

Liked by trevorzegras and others

y/nhughes On the left was our first day home, and on the right is you just now. They weren’t lying when they said time is a thief. I went through the worst pain in my life bringing you into this word, little girl, but you made me forget about it the second I heard your first cry. Happy first birthday, angel. Mama and Dada love you infinitely times one hundred.

view comments

nhl Happy birthday Baby Hughes!

fanuser1 she’s so perfect. So happy for the Hughes family! Happy birthday!

_quinnhughes Uncle Q’s favorite girl. Happy birthday!

_alexturcotte The sweetest little family. Now add more. ps happy birthday beautiful.

y/nhughes We love you, Turcs! Our favorite babysitter😉

_alexturcotte the true favorite uncle doesn’t have to brag about it🤷‍♂️

fanuser2 I didn’t like y/n at first, but she’s grown on me.

jackhughes same tbh

y/nhughes Jack I stg if you don’t shut up…

bff.user you may have a lot of boys arguing about the favorite uncle, but I’m secure in knowing I’m the best aunt😙

trevorzegras we can be the aunt and uncle power couple😛

bff.user @jackhughes put your friend on a leash

jackhughes I’ll put a muzzle on him while I’m at it.

trevorzegras you all love me ;)

jackhughes unfortunately

elblue6

Liked by jackhughes and others

elblue6 Happy birthday to Nonna and Poppa’s favorite girl! You’re little heart is too good for this world, but we are so blessed for you to share it with us. You look so much like your mama, but you act just like your dada! (I’m saying a prayer for your mom). We can not wait to celebrate you this weekend! With love, Nonna and Poppa.

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[everestica]

♫ - Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays to everybody, this post is how some of the characters I liked over the year spend Christmas with you and some (towards the end) what they got you for Christmas! (PS If there is anybody else you would like me to add to this feel free to ask and I might come out with a second part!!) ♫ ---------- ♫ ---------- ♫ ---------- ♫ ---------- ♫ Gepard - He loves being able to sleep in, but since he knows how excited that you are he only chuckles a little when you wake up in the morning and immediately get out of bed to go look under the tree (No matter how old you are you gotta see the gifts in the morning), he'll only sit on the couch holding you close to him as you open each others gifts!

Silver (Twst) - He loves Christmas as much as the next person but CANNOT wake up in the morning for anything 😭 (Que you and Lilia trying to wake him up in the morning) but as soon as he is awake tho expect him to give you your present very fast just in case he falls asleep again (He dose when Lilia is going on about Christmas when he was a kid)

Deuce Spade - Most excited ever, He's more likely one of the first ones up so you never have to worry about him not being awake in time, He will be the first person to hand you a present more specifically the one from him, it's three of his favorite things mixed together, Christmas, presents, and you!

Tachihara Michizou - Manz just doesn't wanna get up in the morning, as much as he loves you he wants to sleep in, but as soon as you do get him up he will be hella excited and drag you to the tree with him, as excited as he is tho he will be super cool and very toned down about the present he got you, and by present I mean Presents (Man has two good paying jobs I mean you can't blame me for adding that in) He actually got (most of) your gifts just though out the year when you had mentioned something in passing. (Idk that shit's the cutest to me, get you a partner who remembers the small stuff 😭)

Akito Shinonome - Again another one who just wants to stay in bed and cuddle all morning but instead of you waking him up, it's Ena. She's was too excited about this to be sleeping any later then like 7 AM. So now the two of you have been dragged out of bed and now starting to cuddle on the couch as people start getting the presents from under the tree, one of the last ones was from Akito. It was a symbol of how the two of you met, at one of his concerts so it was a necklace with a microphone on it and a little charm that had A + (your initial) on it.

Furina - SO EXCITED, Will get up so early and go rushing to the tree to see the presents underneath, loves all the pretty lights and how they illuminate the room and all the wrapped gifts under the tree, at a decent hour though she will go and wake you up by jumping on you, she won't hurt you tho. (Nobody wants to go to the ER on Christmas) Will love opening presents, and loves passing them out as well, but she loves you even more and loves the smile on your face when you see the cute things that she got you!

Hajime Hinata - Again another guy who just kinda chuckles at how excited you are about it, I mean he likes christmas don't get me wrong but he loves your expressions about it much more, though he would never tell you that. Will def let you drag him to the tree and sit him down somewhere (as long as you sit somewhere near him, at least so he can still reach you) Loves seeing you smile at what he got for you at the end though and that's the best gift he could ever ask for.

Blade (HSR) - Seems like he's pissed off all the time standing somewhere behind you as you, Kafka, and Silverwolf all sit down around the Christmas tree and start passing out and opening gifts though one of the last gifts is a smaller box you notice as Kafka hands it to you, smiling, the tag says "To (Name) From Blade." That's why she was smiling, even though you had gotten gift for Blade you didn't expect him to get you one, when you finally opening it and look inside it's a bracelet with his initials and your initials, with coordinates on it. The first place that you two met.

Thoma - He loves christmas and loves spending it with you and the Kamisato siblings, seeing you and Ayaka spending time near the Christmas tree, as Thoma watches over the two of you as Ayato finishes up signing something for the yashiro commission. As he finishes they start getting gifts, one of the middle gifts was a medium sized gift the tag reading that it was from Thoma. As you opened it, there was something small inside it looked exactly like the rope he wore in his hair, and it was. It was a smaller version though one that looked like it was meant for around the ankle or the wrist, which ever one you picked he tied it on for you as a reminder that he was always with you, no matter what.

Malleus Draconia - Loves seeing you excited about the holidays, even if he doesn't fully understand it he will always support you and if you're happy then he is too! He loves watching you open the bunches of gifts that he got you and even loves the gift(s) that you got him, one in particular that stood out was the last one that you had gotten from under the tree. It was known to almost everybody that you stayed in Diasomnia more than 90% of the day since when you didn't there would def be some lighting outside that night. So instead he had gotten you a temporary Diasomnia room card, since you needed magic to get in, so it was infused with magic so you could get in you needed, along with one of the armbands that all the people of Diasomnia wore. It was really a gift for everybody, Sebek and Silver because they would get sort of a break of watching over him if you were always with him, Lilia since he might end up finally getting grandkids, Malleus since he would be able to see you more, You because you wouldn't have to stay in ramshakle all the time and be worried that one day you would wake up without a roof, and everybody else in Diasomnia since they wouldn't have to worry about an angry housewarden.

♫ - Please if you are going to repost any of my works anywhere else, ask permission first! There will be almost a 100% chance that I will say yes as long as you just ask and give credit! Thank you for your understanding!

[restinslices]

Ngl now I wanna read MK1 LKBS reacting to Twilight in headcanon bullet point format 😭

Pretend I put a joke here

Bi-Han

Bi-Han probably hates a lot of things 

Twilight is quickly added to his list 

You know how you can hate a movie, show, book, whatever but have a favorite character? That doesn't happen with Bi-Han

Fuck Bella, fuck Edward, fuck Jacob, fuck EVERYBODY 

The fact that he managed to finish the first movie is a miracle. He for damn sure ain't watching the rest and/or reading the books. You gon have to stab him 

“I'll divorce you if you don't” “I'll get the paperwork for you”

I don't think he'd like any parts of it. There's not a single redeemable thing in that movie 

The type to get mad at Bella and pause the movie to do a lap so he won't destroy the TV 

His main question is “why are y'all doing all this for a girl you hardly know?”

I legit don't think he'd enjoy any parts of it. MAYBE the soundtrack, and that's a big MAYBE 

So many things would bother him. Why is stalking romantic? Why are you risking your family's life for a girl you hardly know? Why is Edward not considered a pedo? How has he not met someone yet? Why is Jacob stuck on her?

There is nothing redeemable about Twilight to him. I think every minute for him is agony 

I don't think any of them like Twilight but I feel like he hates it the most 

In turmoil

Kuai Liang

He doesn't like it either but he tries to be nice and hide it 

He hides it poorly 

A very pained smile whenever you look over at him 

“You like it?” “Yes… 🙂” “Great! Let's watch New Moon!” “There's more?😧”

Does he watch the others? Possibly 

Will he read the books? No

I don't think he'd be fond of any of the main characters either

He’s not a fan of love triangles and he also just doesn’t like the characters

Favorite character? Maybe Angela 

She gets hardly any screentime so she can't do any wrong 

That soundtrack is nice tho-

I don't think he's in as much agony as Bi-Han, but I don't see him liking Twilight 

I'm not even sure he's even into romantic movies 

Do I think he's against romantic movies? No. Do I think it's his favorite genre? No. It could be like, top 5 or something 

This isn't me jumping on the Twilight hate train because I like Twilight in a sense, but I just don't see any of them genuinely enjoying it and being apart of the Team Jacob vs Team Edward debate 

He for sure ain't rewatching the movies 

His niceness is only going so far. At some point he gotta deliver the news to you 

Bella's lullaby is his shit now tho 

Tomas 

Supermassive Black Hole is a nice song 

So… he doesn't entirely hate it 

Like it though? Um… he likes that you like it

Unlike the other two, he'll read the books but he's only reading them because he's like “these movies gotta be popular for a reason. Maybe the books are better”

Does he finish? Probably not 

The love triangle ain't even balanced fr, so he's not really intrigued by that part

I can see him being into the supernatural stuff but I mean, it's not like it's super expounded on 

Is he Team Edward or Team Jacob? Neither 

Bi-Han hates everyone, Kuai Liang doesn't like love triangles, Tomas doesn't like Bella 

Playing both sides when it's convenient for you is something he's not fond of. Pick one and stay on that one 

Who’s his favorite character? He jumps from side characters 

The main characters are probably never his favorite. They're always doing something that makes him raise a brow 

I can possibly see this becoming a series he hates so much, he feels the need to rewatch it 

He spots plot holes and now he can no longer unsee them

He really does try to pick a team if you want him to but it's like “I know who she ends up with so what's the point?”

The point is to be part of the community Tomas 

“I thought you didn't like Twilight” “I need background noise” “...” “I need to feel something” “I get it”

Love hate relationship 

He just like me fr 

[readriordan]

Happy Halloween!

A day of ghouls and specters, there isn't a better time to be a chthonic demigod - aka a demigod of the Underworld! So let's check in on some of our favorite chthonic kids and see how they spent their holiday:

Nico di Angelo

"I'm not exactly the most popular kid in Camp Half-Blood most days, but Halloween is different. We didn't really celebrate it back in my day in Italy, but I almost feel obligated now. I mean, I'm king of ghosts, I think that means I win Halloween, right? Anyways, I turned Cabin 13 into a haunted house for the other campers this evening. I've even got skeletons roaming around, and Jules-Albert is giving out candy. Usually people would be screaming about that, but the other campers love it. It's nice to be seen as cool for a change."

Hazel Levesque

"Camp Jupiter is busy during the holidays! Everybody's going trick-or-treating around New Rome. In the legion the cohorts are giving out candy to each other and holding a competition to see who can get the biggest haul. Even the lares are getting in on the fun trying to prank campers. Frank and I are on duty in the praetors' offices for any trick-or-treaters who come by. Usually some of the houses in New Rome stay open a little bit later though for the centurions once they get off of door duty, so we'll still have time to go wandering later. Plus, we get all the leftovers anyways, so we'll have plenty of treats regardless!"

Clovis

"Oh, Lou Ellen and I made a deal for tonight - she's going as Kiki from Kiki's Delivery Service, and she said if she can turn me into a cat for the evening she'll split her candy with me 50/50. And I get to nap the whole time. Not too bad of a deal for me, honestly. If I want I could honestly probably make the rounds again for seconds, since nobody would know I was already there. Total win-win."

Lou Ellen Blackstone

"Clovis probably already told you about my costume, but what he doesn't know is that my cabin is going all out. We're not gonna let Cabin 13 win spookiest haunted house, at least not without a fight! Sure he has skeletons and ghosts, but like, c'mon! That's gotta be cheating, right? Us Hecate kids take Halloween very seriously, of course. Especially trick-or-treat. Let's just say we tend to prefer the trick half a little bit more. We'll see how many campers get turned into animals by the end of the night. Unfortunately, Clovis doesn't count towards that."

Alabaster Torrington

"Well, normally I would be spending Halloween with my family, but seeing as the gods exiled me, I can't. That's alright though - I have a plan. You see, me and Dr. Claymore are gonna go scam campers out of their candy. I may be exiled, but as long as I stay outside the borders of Camp Half-Blood, I'm not breaking the rules, and they never said anything about Mistforms. And I might be able to say hi to my half-siblings while I'm there. Just as long as nobody rats me out to Chiron we're good. I'm sure I can convince them to keep quiet in exchange for king-sized candy bars. Oh, someone's coming - gotta go!"

What a spooky bunch! We hope you all had a happy and safe Halloween with plenty of treats.

[isabelldrabbles]

Fiona Gallagher x Reader

Imagine: You surprise Fiona...

warnings: smoking

———

“Good morning Gallaghers! Rise and shine, everybody!” You storm through the door and shout through the whole house, plastic bags with orange juice, bagels and donuts in your hands. Carl and Debbie are the first to greet you and take your bags. They put the takeaway on the table and start tearing them open, chowing the food down. 

You mess up Carl's hair and laugh as he throws a bagel at you. "Carl, Fiona told you not to throw food!" Debbie rolls her eyes at her immature brother and sighs. "Exactly Carl, get a grip." You laugh at the middle finger Carl gives you in return. 

"Hey, didn't know you were coming so early. And that you brought food-" Ian pats you on the shoulder and gets a coffee. "You know, I had to come early if I wanted to see my favourite Gallagher before her shift." You get a collective eww! from all the present Gallaghers and sit down at the table. 

Lip, who has just come from upstairs, throws his valuables into his backpack and tells his siblings to eat faster. "You're lucky Fiona didn't hear that, (Y/N)." You hold your hands up innocently. 

"Didn't hear what?" Fiona suddenly appears from the back of the house, Liam in her arms, looking around the room in confusion. "Oops, gotta go." The Gallagher siblings all immediately disappear from the room and make their way to school. Fiona puts Liam in the highchair and stands in front of you, hand on her hip and eyebrows raised. 

You chuckle. "I'm glad to see you too."

"Didn't hear what?!" repeats Fiona, going into the kitchen to take care of the breakfast leftovers. You get up and stand beside her in the kitchen to help her. "I just told them I stopped by early so we could spend some more time together. That's all." Fiona releases a breath she didn't know she was holding in. She leans back against the wall and you stand in front of her and you hold her by her arms. "Are you all right?"

"Yeah yeah, I'm fine. Just had a restless night, Liam and Frank...." She sighs, and you take her face in your hands and caress her cheeks with your thumbs. 

"Thanks for breakfast, they're always extra happy when you come over. I am, too." She kisses you briefly before you let go of her and grab something from your bag. "I got you something too, catch! Favorite cigarettes for my favorite girl." You toss her Marlboros and she grins as she catches the pack. "Shall we smoke one?"

"Easy, easy, Fi. The best is yet to come." The oldest Gallagher looks at you dumbfounded and can't believe it as you pull a cheque out of your wallet. "I've been promoted. The next purchase is on me."

Fiona jumps at you and you catch her, her legs wrapping around your waist and arms around your neck. In an instant, she showers your body with kisses. And before you can say anything, she pulls you up the stairs. After you smoke a cigarette from her pack, the cigarette butt is not the only thing that flies around.....

[ineffablelvrs]

THE BIG BYLER FANFIC RECS POST PART 1

PART 2 HERE

aka every byler fanfic ive ever had opened on my phone but never got around to reading (and i dont think i will because. change of fandoms lmao) (it was supposed to be just 1 part but apparently there's a link limit)

!! btw a lot of writers repeats so im tagging them only the first time !!

long post so everything is gonna be under the cut

movie magic by dragons_like_smores (@howtobecomeadragon)

Think I've Died and Gone to Heaven by 0_space_ghost_0

a real fucking legacy, to leave by andiwriteordie (@andiwriteordie)

the strawberries are dying by eggowlss (@eggo-owl)

strangely, he feels at home by andiwriteordie

lying on the floor (typing your name into the internet) by andiwriteordie

The Artist and the Writer by heyits_L (@buck-yyyy)

A Covert Cat in a Cramped Coffee Shop by if_the_stars_fall (@inky-iridescence)

Rock 'n' Roll by bylerisc4non (@bylerisc4non)

The Sharpie Effect by VibraniumStrap

what a match: i'm half-doomed and you're semi-sweet by perexcri (@perexcri)

your string of lights is still bright to me by heidibyers (emiliano)

I don't quite know what to say (but I'm here in your doorway) by mikeslawyer (@mikeslawyer)

beneath these boughs, my devotion blooms by perexcri

love in the time of dragons by mogiah (@morganee)

this is when the feeling sinks in by mogiah

a hundred thrown out speeches by andiwriteordie

i should be over all the butterflies, but i'm into you by willelfanpage (@willelfanpage)

you're stuck in my brain by delusionaltogether (Whyyyyy) (@parkitaco)

with all my heart by mogiah

The Breath That Passed From You To Me by AabH

The Tempests Created This Tide by AabH

just gotta call on me by wiseatom (@wiseatom)

somethin' about you (that i will always recognize) by andiwriteordie

there's nothing more cruel than to be loved by everybody but you by perexcri

Paper Faces by laozuspo (@henrysglock)

i know the end series by bookinit (@bookinit02)

take your time while you're mine (and smoke slow) by andiwriteordie

takes one to know one by andiwriteordie

sweetheart, you're so cruel by perexcri

The Secret to Being Unlucky by lovetriangled (@lovetriangled)

my life begins and ends with you by RomeoWrites (@itsromeowrites)

anything, anything by inblue

someone who loves me now (better than you) by SomeLovleyPopTarts

Daydream by disaster_energy

i had a dream (i got everything i wanted) by andiwriteordie

But Not Tonight by Matto (@mattuhoh)

Real sweet, but I wish you were sober by queercodedvillain

i'm not going anywhere by vissers

provide me sweet understanding by agustplz (shout_out_lou)

To Hell and Back Again by perexcri

an ode to hope (and other funny things) by pyschologicalrocketgirl (@pyschologicalrocketgirl)

i'll find myself in the moonlight by beansie (@byeler)

where the light glows by beansie

yellow is your favorite color by RomeoWrites

emotional motion sickness by delusionaltogether (Whyyyyy)

i'll be your first, i'll be your last by agustplz (shout_out_lou)

home is where the heart is by smoosnoom (moonsooms) (@smoosnoom)

let our walls cave in by andiwriteordie, kidovna (@kidovna)

the words we held back by mogiah

The Only Truth (that I could see) by DrunkenWhalerbitc4 (@drunkenwailerbitc4)

Landslide by hopelessromanfic (@hopelessromanfic)

landslide by chamb3rs

Mike Wheeler And The 5 Stages Of Dealing With Your Best Friend's Secret Admirer by onstoryladders (@onstoryladders)

summer days a plenty by RomeoWrites

running up that road by smoosnoom (moonsooms)

if i was higher, maybe i could see heaven. by bookinit

icarus falls by bookinit

Wrathful Wishing Star and Poisoned Apple Tree by DaineYui

now that we are both doomed by boryaundernight (orphan_account)

they don't know what i know (been thinking about you) by miketozier (smallcuts)

what it means to be gentle by Zara_Zara (@bylermyheart)

how light carries on endlessly series by andiwriteordie

undertow by beansie

cause i’m utterly useless (totally stupid now) by yemeoto

Jealousy (turning saints into the sea) by wasabi8000

Geography Notes and Doodles by midnighteverlark

Bring Your Roommate(?) to Work Day by sarah_tonin_on_the_rocks

stare at pictures of you 'til i'm blind by agustplz (shout_out_lou)

Sounds pretty gay by SkuldTheNorn

want for anything (and everything) by losingcontrolnow

no takesies-backsies by AttaboyLuther (@titforatat)

RESPONSIBILITY by Wheelerboi

poor old jim's white as a ghost (he's found the answer that we lost) by AttaboyLuther

I'll Be Waiting, Time After Time by Kakerutori

tell me, is it really love? by agustplz (shout_out_lou)

Teenage Blues by ThornyWords (@thornywords)

Secret Moments by ur_ur_ur_mom

touch like velvet by ciders

a dream always the same by sevensided (stonedlennon) (@sevensided)

harness your hope by johnnyfucksup

where is my mind? by ciders

yesterday, we were just children by andiwriteordie

selfless; self destruct by didthattwinkjustcommittreason

hanging on the telephone by elmaxed (orphan_account) (@elmaxed)

i will never rust (wanna be yours) by raedafan

Unbreakable Connection by Tea_For_One_Please

but i like you by felinecharismatic

Sleepaway by roady

i keep my distance (but you still catch my eye) by andiwriteordie

don’t you know (that i love you) by bookinit

if you kissed me now by astrobi (@astrobei)

i'm caught up in you by wiseatom

need-to-snow basis by smoosnoom (moonsooms)