#how can i be hung up on people i haven't talked to in more than a year three years even
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girlivealwaysbean · 7 months ago
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it's so weird when once what was a very important exciting day becomes just another day insignificant and meaningless
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queeniewithabeanie · 4 months ago
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The Nappers
Dpxdc Prompt #10
Danny was really excited to spend the summer with his second cousin(?) he didn't really remember, but apparently Jack Fenton's cousin was Gotham billionaire Bruce Wayne, a serial adopter.
Jazz had discovered the connection and gave him a call to see if he'd mind Danny staying over for summer because Danny decided he was going to tell his parents at the end of summer about his ghost problem, and Jazz wanted him to have a safety net.
He didn't really have a big family at home, with his parents being largely... absent and Jazz moving to Gotham for college. It would be great to be in a house that wasn't empty again.
Now if only his newly discovered family could stay awake long enough for Danny to talk to them.
"So how's living with our cousins?" Jazz asked him through his Fenton-phone. He flopped onto his bed and groaned.
"They're all seem nice but I haven't really seen enough of them to know yet."
"Danny, you've already been there a week, shouldn't you know them at least a little bit? You usually warm up to people quickly, as long as they aren't trying to kill you."
"Man I kinda wish they were out to get me, then I'd probably see more of them than I have already."
"..."
"..."
"Okay Danny walk me through our family, and what you know so far about them."
"Well first there's Dick, he apparently lives in Bludhaven and supposedly comes back to Gotham to visit fairly often, haven't seen any of him yet though."
"Then there's Jason, I've seen him come over after dinner a couple of times, but he's seemed in a really bad mood and I'm getting weird vibes from him so I haven't talked to him much yet either."
"Cass, Steph, Tim, Damian, and Bruce are the ones that actually live here at the manor and outside of when I first arrived I haven't actually seen them awake enough to talk to me. Anytime I've caught a glimpse of them they're taking naps and I'd feel bad waking them up, Tim especially (he looks like he needs the rest)."
"What are they, nocturnal or something?
"That's what I thought too! But the Manor is even more dead during the night than the day. If I had wanted to live with a bunch of zombies I'd have spent summer in the zone, not come all the way here."
"The only people that have stayed awake long enough for me to actually get to know them are Duke and Alfred! Duke's great, but he seems to have a day job so I only see him for breakfast and dinner and any time I can catch him before he sleeps after. Alfred's amazing, but he already has so much to do around the Manor, I feel bad bothering him."
"It is only the first week you're there, and there was a huge Arkham breakout your first day so everybody around Gotham is a bit tense while the Bats are trying to recatch everyone. Could you give it another week for me? See if it'll be an option for if our parents react badly?"
"For you, Jazz, I'll give it another week, but I can't just trade one empty house for another."
"Thanks, little brother."
"Love you, Jazz, bye."
Danny hung up the phone and sighed, he new there was something off with his cousins, but he couldn't quite place it. Constantly napping, disappearing during the nights, but always on guard when they were awake.
He had a week to figure it out, but if he didn't there'd be no real lost love. He'd come up with some excuse, stay with Jazz for the summer or something. If his parents reacted badly and he didn't have this safety net, it'd be difficult sure, but Danny and Jazz would figure it out.
Danny thought it would be nice to have some other family that had his back for once, but hey, maybe he just had shitty luck when it came to blood relations.
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ssahotchnerr · 11 months ago
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omg please part 2 off wishful thinking it was so good
we make sense, don't we?
thank you my sweet! cw; bau!reader, idiots realized <3, angst if you really squint, aaron pouring his heart out and FLUFF wc; 1k
part one
Saturday night had arrived; the sun was just beginning to sweep below the horizon. As a result, your living room filled with a comforting warm glow, contrasting the restless feeling your body currently held.
The thought had just entered your mind - you should've been getting ready for the date by now - but a sudden knock at your door interrupted your thinking.
Confused, you rose and crossed the threshold of your apartment. You opened the door, revealing none other than Aaron Hotchner.
"Oh," You blurted out, your heart picking up. "It's you."
You've never seen him like this; Aaron ridden with nerves. His eyes were somber, yet on edge. At first glance, they were desperate. His hands were buried within his pockets, and despite his nervousness, he didn't dare pull his eyes away from yours. "Can we talk?"
"Um, of course. Sure." You opened the door slightly more, allowing him the room to enter. "Come on in."
He thanked you with a swift nod, stepping inside. You closed the door, slowly, to fill the tense silence that hung over your heads, both of you figuring out what to say.
"What is it?" You leaned against the wall, crossing your arms across your chest. You were suddenly hyper-aware of your actions; should your arms be crossed, or was at your side better? What did your hair currently look like, after spending a rotting day on the couch, nose buried in a book. You nearly blanched at the thought, hoping you didn't look too horrendous.
However, while you contemplated your unkempt appearance, Aaron thought quite the opposite.
"I wasn't honest with you."
Your eyebrows furrowed. "About-"
"I don't think you should go on that date tonight." He confided earnestly, feeling nearly sick to his stomach at the thought. To be fair, he had felt similarly since the initial conversation on the jet. He could barely eat the past few days, his throat uncomfortably locked with dread. Regret.
Your mouth parted slightly, in surprise. You would've given anything to hear him say those words on the jet. But for now, your eyes only searched his for more.
"It's not my place to dictate what you do, and I'm not here to change your mind either," He honestly said, internally accepting the possibility his impromptu visit was for nothing. That he was truly, too late. "But you asked what I thought."
It took you a second, still soaking in his words, before you nervously queried. "What do you think, then?"
This is when he tore away his gaze - taking a moment to himself - internalizing what was due to be said and finding a sense of composure. He sighed heavily. Here it goes.
"You and me, we work, don't we?" He hadn't realized how frustrated he was until the admission left his mouth - his voice ached. He continued without waiting for an answer, his words flowing freely now that they've grazed the surface. "I don’t know about you, but I can’t pretend anymore. I can't keep pretending that there's nothing going on between us. I don't need to elaborate, you know exactly what I'm talking about. Right?" He took a step towards you. "We make sense."
"Then why haven't you asked me out?" Your voiced twinged too, partially at fault as well. You never initiated anything, either.
The empty hole that maintained home in the middle of his chest seemingly deepened, sadness brimming at the rim. "As cliché as this statement is, it's complicated. I'm complicated. It's... I'm good at shutting people out. You know how I am with the team, others, I prefer it even."
"But then with you... it's addictive almost, you're addictive. I don't know how else to put it. If I'm not near you, I have the utmost desire to be. You make me want to be open and vulnerable and as much as I fear I'd have a negative imprint on you" Like Haley. "I'm sick of allowing that to control my life. So I'm giving in to it, to be with you. If you'd let me, that is."
You blinked up at him, utterly speechless.
"Which, I'm sorry for coming over unannounced. Unfairly at that," An breath escaped from his nose, resisting the urge to clench his jaw in jealousy. "Before Cameron-"
"Actually," You finally found your voice, interrupting him and feeling lighter than ever. "He's not."
His eyebrows furrowed, a stern yet quizzically pull forming on his face. You could've sworn there wasn't a more adorable sight. "What?"
"I called the date off." You shook your head. "I didn't want to go, and the only reason why I even considered it was because I needed the distraction. From you."
There was an instant change in Aaron; his shoulders dropped, his face softened. Relief swept through him, he could breathe again.
"Truth is," You took a breath, bravely moving yourself closer and bringing your hand to his neck. You could feel his heartbeat racing underneath your fingers. "I've longed for you so much. So much it's almost embarrassing." You laughed gently, a faint blush appearing at your cheekbones. "Long story short, I've been holding out for you all along. No one is you. And it wouldn't be fair to James, you, or myself if I went through with it."
"Of course. Of course I feel it." You laughed gently, a sly smile tugging at your lips as your fingertips brushed against his skin. "Guess we've been on the same page all along, huh?"
"We're stupid, aren't we?" He laughed, his head leaning into your touch as your hand rose to cup his cheek.
"Definitely."
Aaron allowed himself to look at you, he wouldn't deprive himself any longer. He was free to fully admire you without the fear of being caught - no limitations. Lovesick.
"Are you just going to stare at me all night?" You quipped, a light tease in your voice and with just an admirable gaze at him in return.
"Maybe," He mumbled back as his smile resurfaced, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. "There's something else I'd rather do, in fact."
Your heart skipped a beat, "oh?"
"Can I please kiss you?"
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ashwhowrites · 8 months ago
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Hiiii, Can you do a Steve Harrington x reader? About how they used to be best friends since they were kids then high school came around so did king Steve. Anyways, the reader confesses her feelings for him but before he can reply, his friends laugh and make fun of her. The reader stops being friends with him because he never defended her. But now, Steve has changed and wants to make things right and finally be with the girls he has always loved.
I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it. Thank you for requesting 🫶🏻
High school mistake
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Y/N never thought she would see the day her best friend Steve outgrew her. He was always shy and quiet, and they never left each other's side. They grew up together and now they were in high school and Y/N was struggling with the change.
Steve became popular once he joined the basketball team. Y/N remembered how excited she was when he made it, but now she wished he never tried out. It was selfish of her, but she missed her best friend.
The other issue was she was in love with Steve, pathetically and helplessly in love. She was always too scared to say anything but she didn't have to worry about much since no one looked their way. But now that he was popular, girls began looking his way.
Y/N was jealous and didn't know how to handle it. She figured she might as well try to go for it because it wouldn't be long until a girl beat her to it. So on a random day at school, she walked up to Steve.
She was terrified but losing him scared her even more.
She wished she could say it went well and they have been together since, but that would be a lie. She could never forget the look on his face as the words left her lips. He looked shocked, his eyes wide and mouth open. She confessed she was in love with him and he stood frozen. Before he could reject or confess, his friends around the halls laughed. They laughed as hard as they could as they ran up to them.
Steve never stood up for her, in the moment and after the moment.
It's been two years and she hasn't talked to him since. She was hurt and felt betrayed. The least he could have done was apologize after the fact and tell his friends to quit being assholes. But he never did.
Now, of course, people say he has changed. He now wasn't friends with anyone from high school. Apparently, he hung out with one girl, and the rest were younger children. It was a bit odd but it wasn't her place to care anymore. She hadn't seen him in months but figured she'd have to face him one day.
That day arrived faster than she wished. She was out at the mall when she saw his hair over the racks. She felt herself stop breathing and ducked down. She looked around the store, wondering if she could sneak by before he sa-
"Y/N?"
She squeezed her eyes shut as she heard his voice. She slowly stood up and opened her eyes.
"Steve," she greeted him with a small smile.
"I haven't seen you in forever, how are you?" He asked, a big smile on his face like everything was cool. She froze when he wrapped his arms around her. He pulled back when she didn't move.
"I'm good. How are you?" She asked, trying her best to be polite.
"Good! Not much to complain about. I'm taking Dustin suit shopping so I better get back. But maybe we could get coffee or something? Catch up?" He asked, his hands in his pockets as he turned his head.
She forgot how pretty his brown eyes were. Years later he still made her heart race.
"We really don't have to do that, Steve." She sighed and he frowned at her response
"I want to" he fought
"I don't," she snapped, she took a deep breath to calm herself. "See you, Harrington."
Steve watched hurt as she turned around and left. Dustin was yelling his name but he couldn't move until her body vanished from his vision.
~~~
The run-in happened a week ago and Steve was still thinking about it. He hoped there wouldn't be hard feelings after all these years, but he was clearly wrong. He did want to talk to her, get the chance to apologize, and maybe fix things again.
He never forgot about her and missed her. He missed having his best friend and he knew it was his fault she left. He could have fixed it many times and he never did. But this time he was going to.
He showed up at her house or hoped she still lived there. He was right when she opened the door.
It took a lot of convincing but he made it inside, sitting on the familiar couch he slept on during sleepovers. He remembered how he wanted to sneak into her room and wrap his arms around her body. The countless times he fell asleep thinking about kissing her.
"What do you want?" She asked, already tired from the mess. Ever since she saw him it was like she started all over.
"I want to apologize for the shit I did in high school," he said but she just scoffed.
"Many years late for it to matter, or fix anything. Is that all?"
"Can you give me some mercy please?" He pleaded, his stupid eyes begging
"Why? You never gave me any" she shrugged, looking down at her hands as she played with the pillow on her lap.
"I know and I do mean it when I say I'm sorry," Steve said, softly touching her hand to make her look up. She froze but looked into his eyes.
"You gave me many chances to fix it and fix us. I was stupid and never did. I know I don't deserve to be here right now, and it's fair for you to hate my guts. But I miss you."
"I miss you too but I don't know. I lost my only friend and I suffered. You have to be popular and live life. Now you come back because it's all done? That makes me feel like shit." She explained
Steve listened to every word, moving closer as he moved the pillow off her lap. Now he held both her hands as his body leaned closer.
"Hit me, scream at me. Do whatever you need to do, I don't care. But after can we please start over? I never forgot what you said."
"Please don't bring that up," she mumbled embarrassed as she yanked her hands away. She stood up to give herself space from him.
"No, I will because we never talked about it," he fought as he stood up
"And who's fault was that?" She scoffed as she crossed her arms. "I get over it, so let's move on."
"I didn't though," he whispered
"What are you saying? It's been years, Steve. Do you think I still am completely in love with you after you rejected me?" She rolled her eyes, praying the front she put up was enough to fool him.
"Kiss me," he said, now standing right in front of her
"What?"
"Kiss me and if you don't feel anything, and you know there's no love in your heart anymore. Tell me that while you look in my eyes and I'll leave you alone." He explained, his voice getting lower and deeper as he moved closer. His face was inches away from hers as she tried to control her breathing.
She wasn't sure if she could lie to his face but what did she have to lose?
"Fine," she said, leaning in and pressing her lips against his. She planned to do a soft peck but then his hand landed on the back of her head. He made the kiss way more passionate and she fell into the trap. She clung to his shoulders as she kissed him harder.
It was as perfect as she always thought it would be. His lips were soft, warm, and in control. It took her breath away and made her head fuzzy. It was like everything melted and she was a puddle in his hands.
She gasped as his tongue slipped inside her mouth. And then he pulled away. She fought with everything in her not to chase his lips.
She blinked a few times as she looked into his eyes, trying to regain her thoughts.
She had the words on her tongue, ready to tell him he lost his chance and she could live with that. But he was finally doing what she dreamed about. He was fighting for her, and he planned to leave if she said the word. If she said it, he'd move on and fall in love with another girl. What would she win? Pride? But at the cost of a broken heart and never loving him for the sake of herself.
Maybe it wasn't what he deserved but what she deserved. And fuck it, she deserved to have her heart fixed.
"I love you," she whispered
She could see his eyes light up and the shy smile on his face.
"God, I love you too," he whispered, closing the space between them.
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juniperdugong · 10 months ago
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Photobooth - Wonwoo
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WC: 2.8k || Genre: Fluff, Angst (?) || Ooo they crushing on each other
A/N: We'll call this a late bday present for him lol lotsa fluff, is this also angst? Idk. This is the song I had on repeat writing this, Imagine it during the climax
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You and Wonwoo had hung around the same people for a while, your friend groups slowly merging before you could comprehend it. So it wasn't exactly a surprise that you'd see him here tonight but you're trying your best not to look in his direction all the same.
You guys haven't talked much... or really at all without someone else in the group being there. It's a given seeing as you're both on the introverted side anyway.
Over time you've grown to welcome seeing his face at a party or in a crowd and you've developed a little bit of a crush, one that you definitely did not mean to create. But really who could blame you?
It was Wonwoo. And the way his messy hair hung so perfectly over his face. How his glasses would fog up on occasion. And god... the way he'd lift his shirt up just a tad to wipe them. You might be insane for the thought but there's no way someone that attractive isn't getting gawked at 24/7, like clockwork.
And that's exactly what you're trying to hide as he sits across the table from you. You're drinking more than you had before he got here and you can feel the heat in your face as the buzz sets in. You've been avoiding his eyes as best you can, but you can't help noticing that he's been looking at you very intently since he sat down.
Wonwoo's been nursing a beer for the past 30 minutes, his face still slightly red from the pregame he and the boys did at the previous bar. Now he's sat in front of you. Purposefully he had pushed Dokeyom out of the way to get this seat but now that he was here he had zero idea of how to approach you. He's been trying to catch your eye the entire time but you haven't looked his way once. He goes to speak but is interrupted.
"Guys! I have a great idea!" Your friend stands up to address the table, the fact that most of you are completely out of it only makes it so that several people are cheering her on the moment she rises. "Let's go to a photo booth shop!"
In minutes someone's already handled the bill; No one cares to ask questions this far into the night. And your posse is perusing the streets looking like a bunch of fucked up college students; Not exactly wrong but not right either.
You're hanging back in the pack like you usually do. The cold air hitting your warm face feels so good that you have to close your eyes to take in the feeling. "Hey." You're startled from your daze as you see Wonwoo pull back and wait for you to catch up to him, "The night air?"
"Yeah, feels nice." The silence grows between you two as you continue walking side by side. Neither of you can tell if the heat you're feeling is from the drinks or from the intense blush you feel coming on but both of you are glad that tonight is breezy, the air serving to calm down some nerves. The last time you were alone was that night.
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Not too dissimilar from tonight actually. A bunch of your friends were hanging out at a camping-themed cafe where you could sit around a fireplace. Due to how many of you there were several campfires were taken up.
You and Wonwoo sat a few chairs away from each other, by coincidence you had ended up in this smaller group as a close friend also sat here. It didn't take long for either of you to notice the other. Small glances back and forth and flickering smiles when you caught each other's eye.
Somewhere along the way, almost everyone got up to go and order more food, and as people trickled over to the counter you and Wonwoo were eventually left alone.
The tension was thick with unspoken attraction and you were both waiting for the other to make any moves. Finally, with a lump caught in his throat, Wonwoo got up and sat in the chair next to you. "Y/n, right?" You gave a little nod and chuckled, "Yeah and you're Wonwoo?". "Yep, exactly right."
You guys kept talking and talking the entire night, the conversation never dipping into silence or awkwardness, it felt like you could be here forever and never get bored. It all seemed to come naturally with Wonwoo.
Even once your friends came back the chatting didn't stop. Some of them eye the way you guys had gotten close within a matter of minutes, smirks as they could see the connection forming before their eyes. The way that with each new topic, you guys somehow managed to get physically closer. Scooting your chair to hear him better. Wonwoo leaning in subconsciously as you ramble. Both of you are practically knee to knee by the end of it.
More and more of your group dispersed as it got later in the night but you both were too enthralled in conversation to notice anyone had left until it had gotten dark.
"It was nice talking, y/n." The way the moonlight and campfire gleaned on him made your heart race.
"Yeah, I had a lot of fun Wonwoo." His cheeks hurt from smiling so much and his chest burned whenever anything so much as a smirk was on your lips.
"I'll see you around?" You hoped he was talking sooner rather than later.
"Of course!" He held onto those words like a promise.
It wasn't until you both had gotten into your cars that you realized that you didn't get each other's numbers. Shit!
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It's been months since then. You've seen each other at other hangouts but neither of you had the guts to talk to the other again. Something ate at the confidence you had that night and you haven't been able to look him in the eye since. You'd never thought that you'd have a crush this intense at your age but something about Wonwoo made you feel like a highschooler again.
And he's been the same way, although a bit more direct than you. Every time he's seen you since then he'd try to get closer to you, at least be near you to quench his thirsty lovesick heart with your voice... Even if it's not directed towards him. Just staring at you made him flutter, honestly. He's been festering on these feelings for a while, even since before that night if he was being honest, but every time after that his tongue hasn't been able to form coherent sentences around you. It's like a curse.
A curse that it seems some alcohol can quell, at least for a little bit.
"We haven't talked much, have we?" He starts, the shop is just around the corner yet right now he prayed that it was miles away so he could take his time.
"Nah, we haven't. Not since..."
"Not since the campfire?"
"Yeah."
"Hey! You two! Get inside!" A quaint smile forms on your lips as someone yells for you to hurry up. Wonwoo gives a small chuckle but bites his lip to suppress the touch of anger rising now that your conversation has been cut short.
As you get in you can already see that everyone takes charge in claiming different accessories and filing into photo booths in small groups. You didn't really feel up to taking photos, far too heated from Wonwoo's company from before. Looking around, you spot some fun sunglasses shaped like daisies. They were good enough for photos and who knows? Maybe sober you will like the outcome.
After grabbing the sunglasses you dip into an empty booth and begin going through all the different styles. You're slightly hiccuping and now you can definitely feel the alcohol kicking in.
"You mind?" You'd just settled on the only appealing style out of your choices, one obviously meant for couples, one surrounded by red and pink hearts. Of course, Wonwoo had to interrupt. You have half the mind to tell him you do mind jokingly but you're too swayed by him to joke right now, "Not at all."
Now you're sat squished up in the booth with him. The flush on your face could be explained by the drinks but it's more than likely getting redder due to Wonwoo's presence.
"Sorry, all the others were taken and I didn't want to be left out." An excuse, he'd seen you come in here and he was eager to talk to you again. Alcohol really did wonders for confidence.
"It's fine, really." You smiled a bit in his direction and suddenly his heart is thumping like a rabbit's foot. "I don't even like taking photos..."
"Why not?"
"I never like how they come out."
Impossible, you're like the most beautiful person in the world, y/n. He can't even begin to comprehend your way of thinking. You were the most stunning thing in his field of view whenever you were around, how could pictures with you in them ever turn out bad?
"What?" Fuck Did he say that out loud?
"What?"
"Did you just *hiccup* call me beautiful? Wonwoo."
"I don't know." His eyes are wide and suddenly he feels as sober as a dog. He feigns innocence with a confused stare in your direction and thankfully your drunkenness takes him for his word.
"Wonwoo..." A numbness came over you that allowed for words to spill.
"Yeah, y/n?"
"I think I really like you." Great. Now he's sure he's completely sober. He turns to you, the sunglasses hiding your drowsy eyes as you lean against the side of the booth. And he's not even sure if you'll remember saying this. Great!
"You mean that?" Please say yes.
"Mean what?" You're completely out of it and he can see it, as quickly as he resigns to you forgetting what you said you speak again, "That I like you? I do mean that."
His jaw drops and he isn't sure what to do. Does he run away and grab one of the accessories that will cover the intense heat on his face? No, he doesn't want to leave you. Does he tell you he likes you back? No, that's in vain you're already not all here. Well, you are in a photo booth... He presses the START button.
"Will you be mad if I kiss you right now, y/n?"
You look at him with glazed-over doe eyes, letting the sunglasses slip off your face and fall to the floor. You didn't know if this was some sort of sick joke, a hallucination fueled by the copious amounts of alcohol in your system, or worse a drunken mistake on his part. But it was too sudden a question for you to process the options in this state.
3...2...1...Say Cheese!
"Sorry, I shouldn't have asked-" He opens the curtain to the photo booth and is ready to get up. This was a bad idea. Nothing you said should mean anything to him but it doesn't keep from the pang of disappointment he feels. Suddenly your hand is gripping his wrist telling him to stay seated, and he does.
3...2...1...Give the Camera a wink!
Both of your hearts are racing. The tension of the moment suffocates you guys but you're too caught up to notice the heaving of your breaths. You grab his face with both your hands, trying your hardest to focus on just him. Your stupor makes it extremely hard but you persist with the small amount of soberness in your body.
It takes far too long for either of you to realize as your lips press together. The shock of plush lips lights you ablaze, it's as if someone held a flame to all the booze coursing through you. You're too far gone to know that you're the one that had leaned into him and not the other way around.
3...2...1...Blast off!
If Wonwoo's eyes could pop out of his skull they would. He's nearly out of the frame of the camera as you push up against him. Your brows furrow as you close your eyes getting more into the kiss and now he's feeling awkward with his eyes wide open. He thinks your focus might just be the cutest thing he's ever seen. God, you are all he wanted, huh? A smile creeps up on his lips before he lifts his glasses and deepens the kiss, placing a hand on the small of your back and using the other to gently wrap around the back of your neck.
3...2...1...Silly Faces!
Maybe it's all the drinks but both of you swear that the other's taste is addictive. Your hands travel from his face and down his neck, pulling him in impossibly closer. You're both hungry for each other, if any of the others saw it'd probably look like borderline cannabilism with how animalistic you were going at it. Mouths trying to trace the memory of each other onto the walls of your cheeks.
It was sensual yet innocent, any trace of lust replaced with an intense passion and love. You can vividly imagine the many kisses that you could share with Wonwoo in your lifetime. Pecks on the cheek, goodbye kisses as you leave the house, intense makeout sessions, all of it. All the little quiet moments of intimacy to the burning giant gestures of love, everything with Wonwoo. It's the only sober thought you think you've had all night.
3...2...1...Big Smile!
You release him from your grip, letting your hands rest on his shoulders. Wonwoo's arms hold you in place but loosen ever so slightly. Foreheads resting on each other you just take a minute to take it in. You let your eyes open and meet his, you feel his glasses fall on between you two.
"Sorry." You say as you back away, allowing his glasses to drop back down fully.
The silence is deafening. Outside you can hear as the rest of the group giggles and chatters on, oblivious to what's just happened. You wipe your mouth as you feel a slickness on your lips, your combined spit coating you both.
You're a lot more aware now. The kiss sobering you enough to maybe be able to remember this in the morning but you weren't confident in that thought.
While you're getting that realization Wonwoo's taken the liberty of doing the finishing steps on the photos. Printing 2 copies for each of you and inserting his own email when it asks him if he wants a video of the photo-taking process. Thankfully you weren't looking when he did that, hopefully, he can show you the video at a better time and you can reminisce on your first kiss.
You startle him as you stand up. A solemn look on your face at the thought of all of this being gone by tomorrow. You really wish you didn't drink tonight. That Wonwoo hadn't sat in front of you. That he hadn't stared at you with those eyes, the ones that made you so nervous that you had to chug drink after drink to just get a modicum of confidence. You wish that what happened in the booth had happened not because you were drunk but because you were ready.
He sees the look and wants to say something... anything if it'll make you feel better. He knows all too well that that look meant that you were regretting things.
You reach out to him, cupping his face in one of your hands and swiping at his cheek with your thumb before he can say anything. Biting your lip you look at him, the feelings are all too overwhelming right now.
"Hey Wonwoo, if you remember this in the morning... remind me of it so we can do it when we're sober sometime, yeah?"
With a slight nod, he leaned into your hand and gave a lingering kiss to your palm before watching you open the curtain and walk away. His eyes stayed glued on you through the window of the shop until the moment your taxi came. A hollow feeling overcoming him as the drunkenness sets in again, although he couldn't quite decipher if this down came from the drinks or from the pure ecstasy you gave and so quickly took away, maybe both.
He walked out of the shop, a group of high-schoolers giggling in merriment as they picked out their accessories and got into their booths. The thought of wherever his friends were was purely background noise at this point.
Getting out and into the cold air he stood with his back against the glass, clutching the photo strips in one hand and his phone in the other, he set an alarm.
"Remind y/n".
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A/N: I really really fucking like this one guys, smiling throughout the whole writing process. Also lovelies, for those of you reading Perfection pls know that the upcoming chapter has been delayed till next Saturday! Please reblog and comment your thoughts and as always my asks are open to any and all thoughts!
SVT Taglist (OPEN): @bemybabiibish @bath1lda
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barblaz-arts · 4 months ago
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I know you've been making a lot of art of it lately, but out of curiosity, what's your opinion on Hazbin Hotel in general? I'm referring to both the show and the fandom here. Just curious.
God. What a loaded question. Are you ready? Bcuz I'm fresh from Vaggie discourse on twitter and I have a lot to say.
I think that Hazbin Hotel seems worse than it is for people who know the fandom but haven't actually watched the show. Honestly, I think it's a fine show. It isnt super incredible and I'm not gonna sing praises about how deep and thought provoking it is or whether it's an artistic masterpiece. It never tried to be that and was never advertised as such(to my knowledge) anyway. I just had a lot of fun. Like, yeh sure the cussing in the dialogue can be a bit much, especially in ep 1, but there are different writers in other episodes, so it gets better. It can be super crude yeh, but I grew up watching things like the Scary Movie franchise and other dumb american movies (yes, i was too young for them. yes, i still watched them), so it's pretty tolerable for me. It also helps that Charlie is the main character. That's one of the main reasons why I watch HH but dont watch HB. It's probably a fun show, but without a sweetheart like Charlie to balance things out, I'd just get tired of the sex jokes and mean jokes.
Compared to my last hyperfixation, I think I have more things to love about Hazbin Hotel, believe it or not. With Netflix's Wednesday, I had already been an Addams Family fan for a while and hung on because I loved the family and eventually Enid and wenclair. The show itself was honestly meh... so far! I'll give season 2 another shot.
But with Hazbin Hotel, it catered to a lot of things I've always loved. Found family with a bunch of misfits? We didnt get to see it much bcuz of the fuckass 8-ep per season format we have nowadays, but its fine its there! The juxtaposition of a kind hearted woman in a harsh world? Love love Charlie for that, I watched the show in the first place because of her. A canon lesbian lover with a "fuck the world cuz my world is you" type of love for the protag? Fuck yes. How very Pearl-from-Steven-Universe of Vaggie. And the music? The music is soooo good. I didn't know the songwriter prior to watching, so I was nervous about the songs, but I knew most of the theater actors they cast(still cant believe Jeremy fucking Jordan is Lucifer) so I figured even if the songs are mid, at least the performances would be topnotch. And they were! But the songs were a pleasant surprise. Sam Haft did real damn well. I still listen to the soundtrack to this day.
The fandom, however, is probably the worst one I've been in. And I've been in a lot in my big age... Just... lacking media literacy, and based on the replies I get when I say something on twitter, it seems a lot of them lack reading comprehension and just plain emotional intelligence too.
There's a lot of criticisms about this show that I honestly think is fair. Pacing, character design, overuse of the F word, whatever. But in my opinion, claiming that Hazbin is a male-centered show is an unfair misconception that is mostly the fault of the fandom.
Bcuz, sure, the male characters are uber popular. Alastor, Vox, Lucifer, Angel Dust and the many web of ships they're involved in went trending every few business days. But come on now. How often does a fandom even have their main protag as the most talked about character? This has been going on for ages. Just because the boys have the most merch and fics and fanarts and thirsty fans doesn't mean that they had the spotlight for most of the show itself. It only meant that they were the ones the viewers paid attention to, in a fandom filled with people drooling over the next tumblr sexyman and toxic yaoi ship of the month.
But if you actually look back at what the show gave us so far, the boys didnt outshine the women. I actually think the women got to do more and be more as characters than the men did. Let's take a look at the male characters.
Alastor was not in all the episodes. In fact, he was MIA in two out of the eight episodes. In all the episodes he was in, he was a mere side character. His purpose in season one was to stir the pot and be the intriguing mystery that occasionally quips. But he was not the one whose deeper thoughts were explored and whose character and goals was challenged THROUGHOUT the show, merely alluded to at the VERY END of the season, which is hardly him taking the spotlight away from Charlie. If you merely looked at the fan content of him, you'd think he were a father figure to Charlie(or a love interest. whatever) and that he has developed a soft spot for the Hazbins deep down in that cannibal heart of his. But if you pay attention to the show, he never had even a meaningful one on one conversation with the Hazbins. The only time that happened is when (a)he threatened Husk's life (b)when he constantly mocked Charlie while she was down in the dumps and used this as an opportunity to manipulate her and (b)when he told Niffty watching the crew sure can "make one sentimental", even tho he had taken no prior opportunity to bond with them! There's no foundation for all the fandom's claims that he could be redeemed bcuz of a budding fondness for the group, but that's all you see of his fan content(aside from the horniness). I dont have any problem with his lack of an actual relationship with the Hazbins bcuz I believe redemption for him is not what the show is going for, but it's frustrating to see people interpreting it that way BUT not seeing how horridly developed it would be if that is the case, meanwhile they turn around and say that Vaggie and Chaggie as a ship "had terrible development".
Then we have the male Vees. Vox was only ever in episode two, and was essentially a youtube reactor in episode 8. He was in ep 4 but had no speaking lines. We only know of his obsession with Alastor and the toxic relationship he has with Val. Val, meanwhile, is merely shown as the sex obsessed fiend behind Hell's sex industry and Angel's abuse. They did what they needed to do with minimal screentime. It was fine, but that's IT. Despite what little CANON gave so far, you have hundreds of people writing essays and fics and fanarts about them being complicated characters. But to reiterate, this does not mean that they are bad characters or that they don't deserve the fame. But to say that these men are better written within canon than the women is such a bold statement when most of the depth they knew of these characters were lore drops given before the show and their own speculations as they dug into the shallow soil of what the show has so far.
I'm not gonna speak about Angel and Lucifer. Because I think they were characters who were legitimately well-explored so far.
Now onto the women. So many of them were given the opportunity to have their characters challenged or given the agency to push characters and the plot forward or give you intrigue about implications of what's to come for the characters and the plot. I've talked a lot about Charlie and Vaggie. So let me talk about the other, terribly underrated women of Hazbin.
Velvette and Carmilla were the ones who advanced the subplot in the war against Heaven. Because of Carmilla's love for her family despite being a demon, an angel was killed. It gave Heaven the excuse to escalate things, but it also gave Charlie hope later on in the season that they're not powerless. Carmilla was also the first demon shown to make selfless actions that is contrary to what is expected of demons, making it proof that Charlie's belief that demons deserve a second chance isn't unwarranted. She's an interesting character, as an overlord who hangs on to power but clearly has morals. But how often do you see people writing essays about her? Eating up the fact that she's a powerful overlord but would sacrifice anything for her daughters? If Carmilla were a man, hundreds of girlies would be drooling over the crime boss who has a soft spot for his daughters.
Meanwhile, Velvette got to demonstrate why exactly she's an Overlord despite being the youngest demon in there. She's calculating and observant. She gives off a haughty vibe and constantly boasts about how she's young and fresh, but she isn't naive. During that meeting, she paid attention to Carmilla and Zestial's relationship. In order to find out who killed the angel, she riled everyone up, and when she got the feeling it was Carmilla, she mocked Zestial so that Carmilla could slip up. By playing these Overlords who are older and more experienced than her, Velvette showed what exactly her asset was to the Vees and why she's a threat, something that Vox and Val have yet to be given the opportunity to do when they were busy eye-fucking Alastor and literally fucking Angel. But in fan content about the Vees, Velvette is almost treated as an after thought to the boys...
Then we have the Seraphs. Not only were their designs gorgeous, their dynamic and presence as characters had impact to the plot and main characters.
Emily is a much needed character to show that this story isn't meant to tell you that Heaven = bad; Hell = good. There is good and bad in both, and it is so important for the protags to know that they have an ally in Emily who represents the true virtues that heaven is supposed to uphold. And I love the confrontation she had with Sera when her own view of what's right and good was challenged. We got to see the strength of her character and started the seeds of what could be heaven's acceptance of Charlie's goals.
Sera is such an interesting character to me. She was also important to show that not all angels were sadistic like Adam and Lute, but not in the same way Emily was. I have no idea so far which direction this show would go with her. But I'm intrigued by the fact that she seems to be driven by fear, unlike Adam and Lute's cruelty. She knew Lucifer and was there when he was cast out for his disobedience. Whether everything she's doing is to prevent that from happening again remains to be seen, and I'm looking forward to this kind of subplot for her.
And then Rosie! I really really look forward to seeing more from her. Spoilers aside, something I barely see people talk about is how interesting it is that Rosie is every bit the leader that Charlie hopes to be. Rosie is able to be a respected overlord in her own faction without needing to sacrifice her love for showmanship and music and her positive disposition. When we were officially introduced to her, they show how she seems to care about actually taking care of her people, not JUST ordering them around, by talking to them personally and giving advice. That's exactly what Charlie wanted to do for her people, isn't it? The hotel to Charlie was what the emporium was to Rosie. They have a lot of similarities that could set up for Rosie to be the one to teach Charlie in becoming a leader. Now whether that's a good thing or a bad thing remains to be seen, but it is rather compelling.
So yeah! With all that said, I really dont think this show ignores its women at all. Just because a bigger part of the fandom gravitated towards the men doesn't necessarily mean its a misogynistic show so far. But if certain people are claiming that the women are badly written, then I hope they also own up to the fact that their blorbos are just as shallowly presented within the show, maybe even more so. Which wouldn't even be a bad thing! Since when did a show or character have to be amazingly written for a person to like them? That's just no fun at all. All I'm saying is... Fuck this fandom's double standards, hiding behind claims that it's the writing's fault when the problem is they couldn't be bothered to think about the women.
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lqveharrington · 5 months ago
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Hi, congrats on 2k! I was wondering if you could write Spencer Reid with Clean? Maybe something like Spencer got done with a bad case and is thinking about using but then reader helps him. Thanks!
Clean | S.R.
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summary: When Spencer comes back from a bad case, you help him as best as you can; especially when his thoughts wander back to an unpleasant time in his life.
pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader
includes: angst, fluff, addiction, drugging, talks about death, crying,
a/n: i love me some spencer reid 💛 (rules for celebration here!)
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As a behavior analyst for the BAU in Quantico, it was your sole purpose to evaluate and look into potential criminals' mindsets. At first, you were hesitant to take the job they offered to you – not wanting to deal with so much pain in life. To your luck, they countered with an office job to manage the data collected by the agents who flew out to deal with the cases face to face instead. You were surprised to hear that they really wanted you on their team. Maybe it was because you took all the psychology classes in high school, or perhaps it was all TV shows you watched just to figure out how they ended in the first episode, but after much convincing by your family, you took the job.
It took adjusting and many days of learning everyone’s name before you could get comfortable with the people you worked with. Especially the team that went out for the cases.
Gideon and Hotch — and eventually Rossi — always scared you just a bit, but you learned they cared for you like a daughter. Emily, Penelope, and JJ loved you more than their job. They always hung back with you whenever they had spare time. Derek did his best not to tease you with how young you started working with the BAU, but soon realized how similar you and Spencer were. Ultimately calling you pretty girl in comparison to Spencer's pretty boy.
When you first met Spencer, you swore you both awkwardly froze and avoided each other until JJ forced the both of you to get along. It wasn't like you disliked him — it was the opposite. You only began to get closer to Spencer when he would bring you hot chocolate every day because of the one time he bumped into you and spilled your drink all over the floor.
Eventually he did ask you out on a date and the rest became history.
You even helped him get clean when the incident happened years ago. That case made reality sink in quickly, especially when you got the emergency call from JJ in Atlanta, Georgia. That was the closest you had ever come to joining the traveling team.
Over the years, you made sure to keep Spencer in check. It scared you to even think about him going back to addiction. Yes, he handled tough cases, but he always knew you were there to help him. Until the most recent case. Where the most recent victim looked exactly like his daughter.
"Hey, when did you guys get back?" You raised your brows in surprise when you found Spencer spinning a pen in between his fingers at his desk. "I didn't get a text from you—?"
"My phone died." He muttered and looked up at you, eyes tired and overworked. Within seconds, you were pulled into his arms as his head found its way into your neck. "Missed you and Liv lots."
"We missed you too, Spence." You wrap your arms around him and rub his back. You let him settle into your arms before you separated and sat on his desk, confused at his sudden affection. "I haven't looked at this case yet. What happened?"
The storm outside thundered, causing him to jump and clasp your hand in his own. You frowned and squeezed his hand, head tilting to the side. Spencer was never this afraid of rain, especially when Olivia loved the rain and always asked the both of you to play in the rain whenever you were both home. So you did what you do best — analyze him based on his behavior.
"Uhm, the victim was kidnapped and drugged until she nearly passed away from how much was injected into her veins." He felt for your pulse and counted how many times you heartbeat passed in a minute. "We were cutting it close with time when she got to the hospital."
You watched the way he kept pushing his hair back and readjusting his glasses. He was constantly fidgeting, which made you frown. He fidgeted plenty, but this felt like it traced a little deeper than the surface showed.
Pursing your lips, you stared at his shaking hands and met his brown eyes. "Spence... There's something more to it, isn't there?"
He swallowed and nodded, voice coming out quieter than intended. His hold on your hand tightened as he spoke, eyes shutting like he was in pain. "She uh... She looked just like Olivia, just older."
Your heart broke when you heard his voice crack. He hadn't thought about his own addiction in a while, and seeing a girl who looked like his daughter having a similar experience had him spiraling. You saw the look in his eyes, how scared he was to ever think of losing you or losing Olivia in the process of going back to addiction. He seemed to overthink the entire situation. If that was his own daughter — who he prayed wouldn't ever be harmed in any of his cases — he probably would've quit on the spot.
"Listen to me, Spence." You start and took both hands in your own, smiling softly when you saw his wedding ring adorning his hand. It had been a couple of years since you married him, but every time you saw the matching rings, you were instantly transported back to the day.
You squeezed his hand and kissed the back of them three times, one thing you began doing since you started dating. "Olivia and I know you will do everything in your power to be there for us. We also know you would do everything not to go back to drugs, you know why?" When he stared at you with wet eyes, you continued, your own voice cracking. "Because you love us too much to ever risk yourself to a life of addiction. You have grown so much and we both know you would hate yourself forever if Liv saw you injecting Dilaudid into your own arm."
He stayed quiet and listened to your words intently. Even with his IQ of 187, he knew you were right. He had thought about going back, letting the drugs take him back to the dark place he said he never wanted to go back to. But as always, you pulled him out of the dangerous waves before the water could fill his lungs. You were one of the only people who could hear his cries without anything being said.
You brought a hand up and wiped a stray tear falling from his eye, like you could hear his unspoken thoughts. "I know you Spencer Walter Reid. I can read you like the back of my hand, and not because that's my job, but because you let me know you."
Like a surge of the perfect storm brewing outside, he cupped your cheeks and pressed a kiss to your lips. It was filled with all his stored emotions from one singular case. You could feel the desperation, love, need. He sought out for you in his darkest times. You kept him clean all these years and he wasn't going to let that streak die because of a hard case.
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You and Spencer both went to pick Olivia up from her ballet lessons, wanting to surprise her. And boy was she happy to see both her parents. When she heard the bell ring above the studio's front door, her head peek above the half wall and met her parents' eyes. She but all squealed in happiness and rushed over to Spencer first, jumping into his arms and grabbing his face in her small hands.
"Hi, daddy!" She giggled and squished his cheeks, her pink tutu splayed over him. "I missed you a lot! Like, more than the entire world a lot."
"I missed you too, Liv." He smiled and kissed her cheek, lowering his head to whisper into her ear. "Have you been good for mommy while I was away?"
She tilted her head and gave him a cheeky grin, reading him as well as you could. "I'm always good for mommy."
You raised your eyebrow at her and tickled her sides before kissing her cheek as well. She was the sun that shooed all the dark clouds from Spencer's mind. Of course, she would never know that. Not until she understood everything her father went through to be there for her.
"Go get your stuff so we can get home. I'm sure daddy is tired and wants to hear all your stories from school." You nod your head toward her pink backpack, the different keychains and trinkets Spencer bought her hanging from every zipper.
"Oh, daddy, I have so many stories to tell you! Like that one time—!"
"Get your stuff first, Liv." He let her down from his arms and chuckled when she ran toward the cubbies, stuffing all her belongings into her bag.
You perched your chin on his shoulder and looped your arm around his — the both of you watching your daughter with loving eyes. He understood what it meant to be BAU Special Agent, but he also understood what it meant to be a husband and father. He knew that the balance between work and home was difficult, but he would do anything to keep his family safe. Would he quit? No, you would never let him. But he would ensure that his thoughts would never wander back to such a dark place.
He would stay clean just for you and Olivia.
"I love you." He whispered to you and turned his head to meet your eyes, smile echoing your own. "Like more than the whole world."
You laugh softly and kiss his cheek, "I love you too, Spence. Don't ever forget it."
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©lqveharrington - all rights reserved. do not copy, translate or share my work on other media platforms
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theywantedplayer · 6 months ago
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Master list
PromptList
AN-this is longer than what I usually do I hope yall fuck with it since I haven't been writing lots bc I got exams in 2 weeks fm
You started noticing Nico acting differently—not just on the ice but also when it was just the two of you at home. He always had a nurturing attitude, which his teammates liked to tease him about by calling him "Mother Nico." He was always a caring and intuitive guy, picking up around the apartment even though you knew he had a stressful schedule during the NHL season.
He handled it all well, balancing everything quite skillfully. You’d often hear stories from your friends who were dating other players on the team about how their boyfriends always prioritized hockey, but Nico wasn’t like that.
Then, around the winter months, things started to change. He seemed slower, quieter, and less talkative like a dark cloud constantly hung over him. The Devils weren’t performing as well in the standings as usual, and Nico took it personally as the captain. He acted like the team’s struggles were entirely his fault, carrying the weight of it on his shoulders.
Nico had always been your rock. He let you talk to him about anything that was bothering you, offering a listening ear and unwavering support. But as the winter months set in, you started to realize that the dynamic only seemed to go one way. You could sense something was troubling him, but he never opened up about it.
Little things began to slip. He forgot whose turn it was to make dinner, skipped doing the laundry, or left the dishes undone—things he’d always been on top of. At first, you didn’t mind picking up the extra load, understanding how stressful the season must have been for him. But as October came, you decided it was time to bring it up. You never expected his reaction.
"I’ve noticed you’ve been off, and I’m worried about you," you finally said, folding laundry on the dining room table. Your voice was calm but firm, wanting to make your concern seen.
"What makes you say that?" he replied, his gaze fixed on the TV.
Your eyes flickered between him and the screen. He was watching SportsCenter, listening to reporters make critical and unsupportive remarks about the Devils' performance. It was clear their words had struck a nerve
“Well, you haven’t been picking up around the house lately, and you’ve just been quieter. I just wanted to make sure everything was okay,” you said as you folded his t-shirts.
Truthfully, you didn’t mind picking up more around the house. You’d always told Nico he didn’t need to do as much as he did, but he always insisted. Still, as you tried to talk to him, it felt like walking on landmines. He was so quiet, and you were afraid he might explode at any moment.
“Seriously?” he said coldly, finally turning his head toward you.
“You know I don’t have a problem with you not doing housework. You just haven’t been yourself lately,” you said, trying to keep your tone gentle. “You know you can talk to me, right?”
“If you don’t have a fucking problem with it, then why are you bringing it up?” he snapped, his tone ice-cold.
A heavy sigh escaped your lips. You could feel where this conversation was headed. Setting down the hoodie you’d been folding, you rested your hands on the table and turned to look at him. His expression was unreadable, and that familiar resting bitch face of his—the one that intimidated people who didn’t know him—made you hesitate for just a moment. You knew it wasn’t truly who Nico was, but even now, it unsettled you just a little. Seeing someone who was always the sweetest and more caring one in the room suddenly has the face of one who at first glance didn't seem like it was a shock, but you always knew your boyfriend and knew that wasn't true.
“Nico, I’m not trying to start anything,” you said softly. “I just know something’s wrong, and you won’t even fucking talk to me about it.” you regretted the swear as soon as it left your mouth knowing it seemed like a push to him.
“Because I don’t need to,” he stated flatly.
You sighed again, frustration and worry bubbling inside you. Nico was the guy who always told everyone else they could talk to him, but he never talked to anyone about his stuff even rarely at times with you.
“Well, I think you do,” you said, your voice firmer this time as you locked eyes with him. You weren’t trying to start a fight, but you couldn’t let this slide. “I think talking about it would really help. You’ve been so quick to anger lately, so quiet, and I’m worried about you. You can talk to me. Why do you feel like you can’t?”
You noticed the slight clench of his jaw before he responded. “I have a lot of shit going on. I’m sorry if I’m not picking up around the house anymore. Just leave it alone,” he said, his tone laced with annoyance. “Just leave me alone.”
With that, he turned his body and full attention back to the TV. You opened your mouth to speak again, but he turned up the volume at the same time. Whether it was intentional or not, it sent a clear message: he wasn’t continuing this conversation. And as much as you knew it needed to happen, you didn’t have the energy to force it either.
About a month later, near the end of November, you could tell things had only gotten worse. The Devils were in the middle of a six-game losing streak, and it was eating at Nico. The frustration came to a head after a particularly brutal loss—shut out by Vegas, 5–0.
The walk back to the car was painfully silent. The only words Nico said as he handed you the keys were, “You drive.”
You nodded wordlessly, slipping into the driver’s seat and starting the car. The drive home, which should’ve been 20 minutes, stretched to nearly 45 because of post-game traffic. Normally, after a tough game like this, Nico would vent to you—sharing ideas for new plays or strategies to motivate the team. But tonight, he sat in the passenger seat, staring blankly at the sea of brake lights in front of you.
At every red light, you glanced over at him, silently checking in. He didn’t say a word, but you could see the storm brewing in his mind. This wasn’t just a bad game or a bad week; it was months of mounting pressure. He wasn’t himself anymore, and you knew he was close to breaking.
When you finally pulled into the parking garage of your apartment building, you turned off the car and opened your door. “Come on, Nic, let’s just go to bed,” you said gently, stepping out.
You expected to hear the passenger door open, but instead, there was silence. Turning back, you saw him still sitting there, unmoving. His hand hadn’t even reached for the door handle. It was like he hadn’t even heard you.
You walked around to the passenger side and opened the door, crouching down slightly to meet his eye line. “Nico,” you said softly, your voice laced with concern. “Let’s go inside.”
You could see it—the weight of everything he’d been bottling up for months. The pressure, the expectations, the emotions he refused to show. He was on the verge of breaking, and you just wanted to help him before he shattered completely.
He was too prideful.
But still, you were met with silence. You reached out and softly grabbed one of his hands resting in his lap, giving it a gentle squeeze. You tried to pull him out of the car, but he pulled his hand back, holding yours tightly in both of his. He stared down at your hands, his thumbs brushing softly over your skin. You sat there, unsure of what to say, just trying to comfort him in the smallest way possible. In two years of dating, you’d only ever seen Nico shut down like this once before—after the Devils' playoff run in 2023.
Finally, he spoke, his voice barely above a whisper. “What the fuck is going on?”
You couldn’t tell if he was talking to you, to himself, or to no one at all. His voice wavered, trying to hide the emotion threatening to break through. It pained you—he’d seen you cry countless times, about everything from stress to happiness, but he still couldn’t bring himself to let you see him like this.
“I know it’s tough,” you said softly, squeezing his hand again.
“It’s more than just fucking tough,” he said, his voice rising with frustration. “We’ve been playing like shit, and there’s nothing I can do. The reporters are tearing us apart, and I have no idea how to fix it. I don’t know how to fix them. I don’t know what the fuck to do!��
His voice cracked, but he kept going, the dam finally breaking.
“In the locker room, on the ice—everyone looks at me like I have all the answers. Like I’m supposed to solve all our fucking problems. But I don’t. What kind of captain can’t even fix his team?”
“It’s not your job to fix your team,” you said plainly, your voice steady.
For the first time since the game, he looked up at you, and your heart broke at the sight. His big brown eyes glistened, tears pooling just at the edge, threatening to spill over.
“I’m the captain, Y/N,” he said, his voice shaking. “It is my job. It’s my responsibility to keep the team together, to make sure we don’t fall into shit like this.” His eyebrows knitted together in frustration, and he shook his head, as if rejecting your words outright.
“You’re putting too much pressure on yourself,” you said gently. “You’ve been doing that for years.”
“Pressure?” he scoffed bitterly. “If it’s not me putting it on, it’s everyone else.”
Your expression softened, and you brought your other hand up to run your fingers through his damp hair. “If you’re the one putting it on yourself, then you can also take it off,” you said quietly. “I’m right here, Nico. I’ve been telling you that since the day we met. If you’re feeling anything—everything—you can talk to me.”
He shook his head again, looking up at you with so much guilt it made your chest ache. “I can’t do that to you. You’ve got enough going on with school and exams. I can’t be one more thing.”
“That’s bullshit,” you said, sighing. “I love you. Nothing is more important to me than you. Keeping all this bottled up is only making it worse, Nico. You need to let it out. Talk to me.”
He didn’t say anything for a moment, but his eyes softened as you wiped away a single tear that slipped down his cheek.
“But I’m the captain. People are supposed to look up to me and lean on me. It’s my job to take care of everyone else,” he said weakly.
“Yeah, and it’s my job to take care of you,” you said firmly. “I knew what I was signing up for when we got together. Dating a pro athlete comes with challenges that most people don’t face, and I knew it’d be hard sometimes. But Nico, you make it so easy to love you. The only thing that makes this hard is that you don’t talk to me when you’re struggling. I want to be your rock, too. I want you to come to me, vent for hours if you need to, cry if you need to. I just want to help you.”
A shaky sigh escaped his lips, and his voice cracked as he said, “I feel like I have to hold it together all the time. Half the time, I’m not. If we’re losing, I feel like it’s my fault. If I can’t lead us to a win, what kind of captain does that make me?”
“You’re playing fucking hockey, Nico,” you said bluntly. “You’ve been doing this your whole life. You know what you’re doing, and you know what your team needs. But it’s not your job to fix everything. They’re grown men with their own shit going on. The best thing you can do is be there for them, support them. But you can’t carry the whole team on your back.”
A bitter laugh left his lips. “Everyone thinks we’re a shit team right now. We’re getting blown out almost every game.”
You smiled softly, glad to see the tension beginning to leave his shoulders as he let everything out. “Don’t you think Quinn felt like that, too?” you asked.
His brows furrowed in surprise at the mention of his friend's brother.
“He’s captain of the Canucks. They were a mess for years but look at them now. They’ve turned it around. People respect them because they fought through it. You will, too. You’re not the only one who’s ever felt like this. Why don't you try and talk to him about this, Quinn's a really helpful guy he's helping me so much, growing up he was the first person I'd go to"
Nico knew your history with the Hughes you guys grew up together and spent nights at the lake house together, even though Nico didn't know Quinn as well as he knew his energetic little brother, Jack,  he could tell from the few times that they've met that he was a great guy to go to for advice.  He honestly really liked Quinn,  one time during the summer during the off-season the Hughes family invited you and Nico to spend a couple weeks at the lake house with the original group. Being Cole, Trevor the Hughes brothers, and some other buddies from Michigan, Nico was a little nervous about going since he only really knew Jack, Luke and You but Quinn and Nico honestly gravitated towards each other and got along quite well, he introduced Nico to the rest of the group and everyone hit it off from there on.
and during one of those nights at the lake house he and the eldest brother were sitting out by the fire when everyone was inside they ended up having generally deep talk and confided in each other about being captains of a team at a very young age. At the time Nico barely knew Quinn this was really the first time he was actually able to sit down and fully get to know the young defenseman but still he talked to him knowing they shared the same worries and since then they've always kept in contact.
Everyone always loved it when New Jersey played Vancouver because they called it the "Hughe's Bowl" since the three brothers were playing on the same ice against each other for the first time in a long time. Nico always looked forward to that since usually after those games if Vancouver wasn't heading back that night Nico and the three brothers would go out and always get a beer together. 
 Nico could slightly feel his face heat up with embarrassment. not about opening up but about not doing it sooner.  he loved you and he knew you always wanted the best for him so he just felt stupid for not realizing that sooner and trusting someone with his problems but it wasn't just somebody it was you 
He was quiet for a moment, processing your words. Then, unexpectedly, he let out a deep laugh. You blinked in surprise at the sudden shift, squeezing his shoulder gently.
“What’s so funny?”
“I’m an idiot,” he chuckled, shaking his head. “I’ve been sitting on this for months, and after less than ten minutes of talking to you, I already feel better. No wonder you were pushing me to open up.”
You laughed with him, relief washing over you as he climbed out of the car and pulled you into a tight hug. He buried his face in your neck, his arms wrapping securely around you.
“Thank you,” he murmured into your skin, holding you close.
You hugged him just as tightly, feeling the warmth radiating from his body after the game. “I love you,” he whispered.
“I love you too, Nico. And I need you to know you can always talk to me about anything.”
He pulled back slightly to look into your eyes, his own still glistening but now softer. He just saw you prove that too. him but he really needed to hear you say it. He kissed you gently, then rested his chin on your head, pressing a kiss to your hairline.
“Let’s go to bed,” he said with a soft laugh. “I’m fucking tired.”
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becausegraf · 21 days ago
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Shower thoughts moment about Stolas and Blitz' communication issues.
Something I haven't seen in these discussions before myself (beside the matter of how wishy-washy and overly accommodating Stolas tends to be):
Stolas is *overly polite*, to a degree Blitz simply can't decode the intricacies of it anymore.
His politeness is such an obvious, on-brand part of his behaviour that it gets overlooked as a source of communication issues, and their difference in social 'rank' is connected to this, too.
Tl;dr Stolas' usual cordial manner, overly restrained by the upper class code of conduct he was raised with, makes it very difficult for Blitz to take what he does and says at face-value, and this results in a fundamental unease and distrust on his part.
-
I was rewatching 'Ozzie's' again, and something occurred to me about their conversation after.
Stolas gets out of the car, probably after quite the long awkward silence. Blitz is clearly stewing in displeasure.
And then, what does he say? What's the kind of message he chooses to send, in-between his invitation?
'Hey Blitz, *thank you for asking me out, this was nice.*'
He doesn't completely skirt around the obvious issue that things ended on a sour note, but he skips over it quickly, in a hurry to avoid seeming unhappy or ungrateful or upset.
Now, after the whole debacle, Blitz knows damn well this was a mess from start to finish. He invited him out on a fake date, couldn't be arsed to really pay attention to him because he was still caught up in his Original Plan of spying on MnM, and not even minutes later, being unable to keep his gob shut, he ends up attracting the attention of everyone and their mama to him and Stolas, to get them both sublimely roasted in public.
'I enjoyed spending time with you', says Stolas.
'Bullshit', thinks Blitz.
No, he didn't. He got dragged into a sassy rogue's hare-brained scheme like the naive princey he is, tidily sat aside while Blitz thoughtlessly treated him like distraction at best, got publicly humiliated by the top dog of the Lust ring to the point of cringeing and hiding away, and got carted on home in a cramped messy car with a thundercloud in the driver's seat.
-
Stolas' intention isn't to bullshit Blitz. He knows his friend knows he knows this went terribly awry, but in his social circles, something so obvious doesn't have to be stated aloud. It'd even be incredibly unbecoming to complain openly, let alone to have a bitch fit and express frustration the way 'a lower class person' with no filter might.
He can tell Blitz isn't happy with things, and it's perfectly understandable and thoughtful of him to try to think of a way to salvage the evening, rather than to get hung up on whatever the fuck that whole mess just was. He knows Blitz isn't likely to be eager to talk about 'it', whatever 'it' might be, but they don't have to - if they can just spend a bit of time with each other to ensure things are alright between them, they can part ways with some peace of mind.
So that's what he does: he sidles around the unpleasant elephant in the room, like any properly behaved Goetia would, and extends a courteous, polite invitation to wave it all off and have a pleasant evening regardless.
Stolas spent his entire life 'on stage'. He's an actor, both due to a genuine, benign penchant for dramatics, and out of pure necessity to get by when surrounded by high society folk, and living in a household where conflict would be never-ending if he doesn't go out of his way to diplomatically calm things down. He has more than two decades of active training in 'how to ignore the ever-growing pile of crap, and put on your tidiest smile'.
-
By comparison, Blitz is *explicitly* vocal about what he thinks. The day they met, he wasn't shy at all about telling little Stols that his books are boring, and as an adult he's still impulsive and bluntly honest. He's used to open conflict and butting heads with people, and expects others to 'come and give it to him' if they have a problem.
From Blitz' perspective, Stolas' earnestly motivated behaviour has to come off as a bit 'fake', like an actor walking through a script.
Calling Stolas out by going 'oh come off it, you and I are just sex and nothing else' may sound incredibly blind, or deliberately obtuse, but I think he may have partially meant that to say 'can we not with the whole pretend-nice play acting right now, let me remind you of what's real here, and I'm not in the mood for messing around with whatever you think you're doing here'.
He really doesn't think Stolas inviting him to come in and hang out like friends is genuine, and in a sense - why would he? They just had a disaster of a night, and this weird prissy owl isn't starting a shouting match or crying or bitching about it - clearly he's up to something, but it's for sure not 'in earnest'. If it was, they'd be having an argument, or at the very least be talking about the whole thing.
-
Heck, the very first time they met was a whole mess of confusing communication, with the very first thing Stolas says to him after closing the door to his room being something straight out of a sexy roleplay. Talk about making a brand new first impression on Blitz as someone who apparently just Does That Kinda Thing like the massive nerd he is.
I really think Blitz struggles to interpret some of Stolas' behaviour correctly, or at least, in the way Stolas is going for. Their social surroundings and habits are so vastly different there really is no meeting in the middle at times. They're not just not on the same page, but reading a whole different novel.
-
And hey, this goes the other way, too.
During Full Moon, Blitz goes after him when Stolas withdraws from the interaction (which is what you would do if in the middle of a fancy party, your emotions start to boil over - you excuse yourself to have a breakdown where nobody has to be annoyed over it).
Someone following him when he departs can either mean they care about what's going on and are invested enough to want to be there while he's upset, OR it's a case of someone like Stella just not being done ripping him a new one. The way Blitz comports himself does *not* make it one bit clear that him chasing after Stolas is 'because he cares', not when mister hot-headed 'I turn fear into fury' Blitz is going off on a hostile tirade.
'LET'S GO!!' he shouts.
It's literally a case of someone screaming to be engaged with. 'Get back here you bastard we're not DONE.'
This is Blitz 'being real' with people, as unpleasant and aggressive (and in its own way a defensive front) as it is. This is Blitz ready to tear through the haze of indirect, vague communication, expecting, wanting Stolas to stop running, turn around, and give him a piece of his mind properly. If Stolas is upset, angry, hurt... he should just say so, damnit!
That's the social rules he lives by: you throw out a provocation, and the other party responds in the same way, clapping back with whatever crap it is that's got their panties in a twist, and whatever comes out of such a tiff would at least register as 'honest' to someone like Blitz.
This is how he interacts with Verosika. It's how he interacts with Fizz during their conflicts. It's how Barbie interacts with him. It's just 'how you do things' by Blitz' script.
*None* of that aligns with Stolas' expectations or understanding. To him, acting like that is just rude, aggressive, and mean, and he's not the kind of person to match that energy in kind.
-
And this is where in Apology Tour, there is a noticeable and critical change in Stolas' behaviour: for the first time, he gets *snarky*.
He shows Blitz his disapproval, his impatience, his frustration. He blocks him off, pushes back, argues with him. He legit gives Blitz 'a bit of a hard time', well-deservedly, even if for the most part he's still aiming to cut communication short and go back to handling his feelings in private.
Later at night during the party, when he's drunk off his ass and his usual patience and self-control are running on fumes, Blitz approaches him rather demurely, ready to at least try to make amends. It's at this point that Stolas' communication turns into a style Blitz understands: blunt, expressive, and unrestrained. He finally stops holding back, and lets his feelings, notably anger and hurt, show plainly.
Snark and sarcasm, immediate clap-backs - that's the language Blitz speaks fluently. That's what, to him, registers as 'honest', as real, as true. That is the point at which he no longer has any instinctive reason to think Stolas is just putting on a fancy show, because that's how 'normal people talk'.
-
I very much think that as much as Blitz already had intense latent feelings for him, it's the point at which Stolas showed him something 'real', something relatable and understandable and trustworthy, that the imp fell even harder for him.
It broke through the distortion caused by Stolas constantly holding back, and Blitz being quite aware that Stolas, in a sense, constantly put on a performance for him.
In short...
Stolas claims Blitz is the person he can 'be himself with' the most, but I truly think it took until Apology Tour before he started breaking down his own walls of reticence and distance. They've only *just* gotten started, but this tiny bit of change that already started before Mastermind is a sign that things can absolutely go into a better direction with them.
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cautious-soup · 28 days ago
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YandereBully!(It's your fault I feel this way.) Satoru Gojo x Fem!Reader
Part 5
Part 4 | Part 1
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CW// near non-con, implied threats of non-con, physical abuse, psychotic break (you drove him insane lol)
Summary: While Satoru's away for March Madness, you both make a bet. You really ought to know better by now.
A/N: Hey, sorry this chapter has no smut; it's mostly set-up. Buuuut still worth reading for Satoru losing his mind over you. Hope you enjoy!
PS: I know nothing about sports so sorry if anything is inaccurate i really cant be assed to read more than a wikipedia article about men throwing balls around.
♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♠︎♤♤♤♤♤
March Madness saw Satoru gone for most of the month. His face was plastered all over campus though, on posters, pamphlets, wrapped around the pillars in the arena, the TVs in the dining hall. The bracket was everywhere too, your school's name bolded and underlined, slowly moving up the ranks.
Somehow, it filled you with dread. Satoru was already an egotistical dickhead most of the time, but you couldn't imagine how obnoxious he'd be after winning March Madness of all things. He always taunted you for your major, bragging about how a large chunk of the school's funding went into sports, and all of the benefits he got. He really was the worst.
Satoru: we won again lol
Satoru: you still haven't sent a single text saying congrats
Satoru: :((((((((
Satoru: Y/N
Satoru: Y/N
Satoru: cmon you should at least brag to your friends that you know someone who's on TV all the time
Y/N: leave me alone
Satoru: ur so lucky i cant fly
Satoru: or like teleport or something lol
Satoru: maybe i can in another universe
Satoru: u ever think about that kinda thing?
You scowl down at your phone and toss it on your nightstand, turning on your side to try and sleep. Even though it's on silent it might as well be buzzing off the charging cord. What the hell was up with him, wanting to talk to you like you were a normal person all of the sudden?
You chanced a glance at your phone, watching the screen dim and light up repeatedly as Satoru kept sending texts. God, he texted like a middle schooler. You groan, reaching over and snatching your phone off the cord, pulling the plug out of the wall in the process.
Y/N: istg
Y/N: go to sleep you have a fucking game tomorrow right
Satoru: so you are keeping up~
Satoru: i think were gonna win
Y/N: i hope you dont
Satoru: lololol wanna bet?
You squint down at your phone.
Y/N: bet what?
Satoru: you can bet whatever you want it wont matter cus were gonna win
Satoru: btw if (when) we win, i get to do whatever i want to you for a whole day
Y/N: you were already doing that dickhead
Satoru: lol no i wasnt, that stuffs tame compared to what i really wanna do to u
You swallow down a lump in your throat, choosing not to process that text.
Y/N: ok
Y/N: if you guys lose, you leave me alone.
Y/N: Forever.
Satoru: ⚬⚬⚬
You watch in irritation as the dots disappear and reappear on the screen. He usually responded so fast. Then, your screen lights up with Satoru's number. Resisting the urge to throw your phone across the room, you slide your thumb across the bottom and hold it to your ear.
"…what," you ask dully.
"Bet something else," Satoru says.
"No." you say, "You said whatever I want."
"..."
You pick at a hangnail on your finger, "Besides…you were so confident you'd win—it shouldn't matter right? You'll win anyway and get to do whatever you want to me,"
The other end of the call was so quiet you thought he'd hung up.
Then, "Yeah, you're right, it won't matter. Better mentally prepare yourself then huh?"
Satoru hangs up before you can respond, and lets his hand fall to his side. He lays back in the hotel bed, wondering why his heart feels like it's in his throat.
He'd never admit it outloud, but you really are the most fun Satoru's had in years. Sure there were prettier people for miles, and he could pick up any of them—should have. This…thing with you wasn't supposed to last longer than a few weeks. But you just kept giving, and he just couldn't stop taking, couldn't control himself.
He squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head, it didn't matter. Whatever he did to you was his choice, not yours. He'd win, and then he'd do awful, awful things to you.
And he'd have a fucking blast doing it.
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The room was completely silent.
You'd decided to attend the watch party in your dorm's lobby, just to see the outcome of your bet. You weren't really expecting your school's team to lose. You expected them to win, and you expected Satoru to call you hours later, detailing all of the things he'd do to you when he got back. You expected him to barge into your room, pin you to the bed, and turn you inside out, bragging all the while about how he'd won.
But that wouldn't happen, because your school's team lost.
"Shit…" the RA hosting the party sags in his seat next to you, "I really thought we had it this year,"
You nod numbly, looking around the room at the other dejected faces. Then, you look at the TV, and your breath hitches when you see the camera is zoomed in on Satoru. You can't see his eyes, his wet bangs are hanging in front of his face, mouth slightly agape in disbelief.
Shuddering, you give an awkward goodbye and leave.
Is it over? You wonder to yourself in the elevator back to your room.
He'd lost, and if he was supposed to leave you alone forever if he lost. But neither of you were expecting him to lose.
But he did lose.
He lost, for once. For fucking once, he lost, knocked down another peg.
"Good," you whisper, shoulders shaking as a trembling laugh comes from your throat, "Good,"
This is good. This is good.
You dig your phone out of your pocket and try to send Satoru a text about the bet, but it doesn't go through. He must've blocked you.
"Good," you say again, "This is good."
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"I just don't understand Gojo," Satoru's coach said, messaging his forhead, "I don—what happened? You were playing like you were in freshman year again. Everybody was screaming at you to get your fuckin' head in the game—why didn't you?"
"My head was in the game," Satoru sighed, but his coach shook his head.
"No, no, I know what each and every one of you hard headed kids looks like when you're in a flow state, when you're distracted. I can read you all like bold underline print at this point, so you're gonna tell me what really happened. What, is it your scholarship? School? A girl?"
"I…" Satoru grit his teeth, "No…kind of it's, she—fuck,"
The coach's eyebrows raised in solemn understanding, he sighed, "A girl, then…"
Satoru feels his breath coming out hard and shaky, "Yeah," he muttered, "A girl."
You.
You were the reason he lost—it was your fault. If you hadn't said that stupid shit, if you hadn't gotten in his head, he'd be drenched in gatorade and headed to the nearest bar right now.
But you got in his head, you with the smile he never got to see, with your hands clawing at his back, with your eyes gazing up at him wide and wet, with your lips quivering against his, with your soft pleas.
All he could think about that whole game was never seeing that ever again. Forever.
But it wasn't fair.
Yeah, that's it, it wasn't fair so it didn't count. He'd blocked you as soon as he'd gotten his hands on his phone after the game, but that was because he wasn't thinking straight. Now he's thinking clearly. Since it was your fault he lost, the bet didn't count. It was basically direct sabotage—you'd gotten in his head like a little minx and made him lose his senior championship. His last chance was gone, and it was your fault.
The coach gave Satoru a look when he started chuckling, "M'sorry coach just," Satoru took a breath, "I had an epiphany."
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Satoru unblocked you, but you didn't know because you didn't bother checking.
It's why you're so surprised when your room door flies open a day after the loss, slamming against the doorstop and startling you. You take your headphones off, eyes wide with shock at the sight of Satoru in your doorway. You can tell by his disheveled appearance that he came here straight from the airport.
"No," you start as Satoru strides toward you, "No no we made a fucking bemmgppph, mmMMM!"
"Biting isn't gonna do anything," Satoru hissed in a whisper, pressing his palm harder against your lips. His eyes were so distant, and you watched as they darted across your face, before landing on the dresser by your bed. Keeping his hand pressed against your mouth, Satoru yanks the top drawer open.
"Mmm," he hums pensively as he takes two pairs of your panties in his hand, "These two are my favorite."
Tears sting the corners of your eyes as he balls the garments up and roughly shoves them past your teeth. You always wondered why people in movies never just spit gags out—but now you can't no matter how hard you try.
"NMMMMM!" You thrash in Satoru's grip, but he's grabbing your wrists. You scream as you're dragged off the bed, crashing into the stool you use to step up onto it since it's too high off the ground. Your kicking legs knock a large, decorative mug from your nightstand, sending it rolling. The struggling continues as Satoru drags you to a place on the floor where he can lay you down flat. He brackets you between his thighs, keeping your wrists pinned above your head and looks down at you. You can feel pain blooming in your ribs.
"God you're so…I wouldn't have looked twice at you if they hadn't asked me to do that stupid fucking prank," Satoru hissed, "I never would've fucking met you, and I never would've lost if it weren't for you,"
You try to move your legs, but he won't let you, continuing to ramble, "The whoooole fucking time I thought about you, ok? For the whole fucking time I was gone—cause you're just so easy to mess with. But then you went and-" Satoru looked off to the side, catching his breath, before looking back at you, "Haah, you went and said that shit about leaving me. Leaving me forever? Really? I mean, it—I just couldn't fucking…but you didn't mean it, right Y/N? You didn't mean it?" He asks, getting so close that your noses are touching.
"Nod if you didn't mean it. Nod, and I'll let you go, m'kay?" He whispered.
His grip on your wrists growing more painful by the second, you nod frantically, tears streaming down your cheeks. Satoru took you in for a moment, before letting go of your wrists and taking your panties out of your mouth. You gulp down breaths of air, sitting up.
Satoru chuckles, "I knew you didn't mean it," He said, "Now le—" whack
You're panting as Satoru's eyes go unfocused, and he clutches his head. "You littele…fffuck…" he groaned. You drop the mug like it's on fire, heart about to burst.
Not bothering to stay long, you grab your phone off of your bed, and run out the door. You run out of your dorm, and off campus and you run and run until the sidewalk starts to look unfamiliar.
With trembling fingers, you call your friend and ask if you can stay at her place for a while.
Part 6
♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤run all u want lol♤♤♤♤♤♤♠︎♤♤
A/N: Don't you just love grovel set-ups?
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storiesaplenty · 2 months ago
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Part 5
The Pitt Masterlist
This has not been proofread. Please enjoy, though. Warnings: a bit of swearing. Unplanned pregnancy.
WC: 971
©️ storiesaplenty 2025: do not repost or translate my work. This is the only place I post my work. All readers are female, unless stated otherwise.
A few months ago, Dr Whitaker had a one night stand, not knowing she was the daughter of Dr Robby.
I have only talked to my parent's twice since I told them I was going to become a father.
Both times they asked me when she and I will be getting married.
Which I reminded them that we would not be getting married.
After the second call, I haven't bothered to call them, and they haven't bothered to call me.
My brothers, though, have been supportive of me in their own way.
My oldest brother isn't as pushy as our parents but still brings it up from time to time.
"You will be doing right by her Denny." He told me, making me sigh into the phone, not even bothering trying to hide how much he is annoying me.
"She isn't like the girls back home. She has her own career. She and I have discussed day-care when the time comes."
"Denny, just think about marrying her. There is nothing better than coming home and seeing your wife, holding your child."
Maybe I am wrong about him not being as bad as my parents.
I knew he had to marry his wife, even though our two families tried to keep it quiet. I mean, my nephew was born only six months later, and was at full term.
"Look, I gotta go. Tell Brenda I said hi."
I hung up the phone after he said goodbye.
I walked down the street, towards the hospital. I didn't have a shift today, but it was time for our next appointment to see how she and the baby are doing.
I said hi as I passed people who I knew.
I got off the elevator, and walked into the waiting room, and there she was, on her phone. I could see the slight swell of her pregnant stomach, and my heart gave a flutter when she looked up, smiled as saw me standing there.
I didn't even have time to sit down before she was called.
Her and I walked down the now familiar halls, for our next ultrasound.
It was all going smoothly until the nurse told us that she has to get the Doctor. I grabbed her hand, as she asked if everything was okay.
My heart felt like it was beating out of my chest as we waited for the Doctor to come in.
Thankfully, she didn't take long, as she came in with the Nurse.
"Is everything okay Dr Reyes?" She asked her, as she squeezed my hand.
"Diane here just saw something on the screen, and wanted me to take a look."
The four of us were silent as Dr Reyes scanned her belly.
"Besides everything looking like it is coming along nicely, I want to show you something. Dennis, I know you are not working today, but this will also be a good learning moment." Dr Reyes turned the screen, and I couldn't believe what I was seeing.
"Two?" I blurted out. She looked at me with wide eyes, her mouth slightly agape as she also couldn't believe what I said.
"Good eye Dr Whitaker. Yes, two babies. Do twins run in either of our families?" Dr Reyes asked us.
She shook her no, while I quickly thought about my father's brothers, my twin uncles.
"Yes, my dad's brothers are twins."
"Well congratulations to you two. I will give you a moment to process this new information, and then we can continue with the appointment."
She and I were left alone.
"Dennis, this changes everything."
"What do you mean?" I asked her, clearly confused.
"One baby is fine. Easy enough to handle by ourselves, but two Dennis? We may actually have to rethink everything we have talked about. May have to move in together."
I didn't want to show how excited I was about the two of us maybe moving in together.
"We can discuss this more after the appointment. No need to make any decisions right now, okay?" She nodded her head yes, as she took a deep breath.
"I'll go and tell them we are ready to continue with this appointment."
We found ourselves eating in the hospital cafeteria.
I was slowly eating my sandwich, as she was eating her frozen yogurt.
She really hasn't said much since our appointment.
"Dennis, I still stand by what I said earlier. I think it would be best if we moved in together."
"Do you want a new place?" She shook her head no at my question.
"I think it may be good to move into my place. I have a bit more space."
"When you are ready, just let me know so I can pack up my stuff and let the landlord know."
My next shift was two days after that, and I was already full swing into the chaos that is the ER.
I was looking over a patient's chart, and didn't even see Dr Robby standing there.
"So I heard you are moving in with my daughter?" I can not lie, I did a little jump as he scared me.
"Yes sir."
"I do have some questions to ask you." I turned to face Dr Robby as he stood there, with his arms crossed, looking at me.
"Anything Dr Robby."
"Will you be helping around with chores?" I was a bit taken back with that question.
"Yes sir." One nod of his head, like he was happy with that answer.
"Help with the bills?"
"We still have to go over everything in that regard, but yes."
"Good. One final question, Whitaker."
I waited for him to ask me.
"Do you love my daughter?"
I almost choked on my own air.
"I am fond of your daughter, Sir. She is a very bright, funny, smart woman."
"Hmm." Was all Dr Robby said as he left me standing there, confused about what the hell that was all about.
Part 4 ♥︎ Part 6
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look-me · 10 months ago
Text
“𝑷𝑹𝑰𝑵𝑪𝑬𝑺𝑺”
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masc!reader x dealer!abby
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warnings: fingering, using of weed, semi-public sex, r!receiving, idk what else lol
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au: a/u:please don’t mind any grammar mistakes and please cuz english its not my native language. ps. i never write a smut. also i’ll probably won’t correct any mistakes cuz i’m too lazy for it😭 (edit. omg this is shitty how can y’all read this😭)
part 1
part 2
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Smoking together with abby means: she smokes and you drink some beer because she knows you don't smoke.
You met her a long time ago when some friends of yours were too embarrassed to ask her for weed, so they sent you instead.
At first, you hated Abby because everyone always said "she's hot," "I want to have sex with her," etc. You thought people were exaggerating about her until you saw her for the first time.
Your friends were damn right.
She was a goddess: masculine, tall, muscular, dark blonde hair braided in a fishtail, pale freckled skin, and blue eyes.
Everything you liked together. Let's just say the truth. You got a crush on her immediately.
You loved masculine women more than your life, but we all know that masc4masc women are almost impossible. You tried to be more feminine once, but it made you uncomfortable, and you knew that being masculine wouldn’t make you attractive to other mascs, so you got used to having a crush on a masc but then letting your eyes get off of her immediately because it was useless.
{ "Like for real, can't you go and ask her yourself?"
"ARE YOU CRAZY? ARE YOU ASKING ME TO GO TALK TO ABBY FUCKING ANDERSON?!" you turn your head to your other friend.
"Ash, come on, please..."
"Don't look at me, I like her too."
Fuck...
You had no other choice but to talk to Abby.
You were behind a tall guy, so you couldn't see Abby at all. The moment the guy in front of you got away, freeing your view, you melted inside.
"Hey, can I have some of your good stuff?" Abby stared at you for a bit, thinking you were just playing around with her.
"So? Are we going to be here all night, or are you going to give me some of your shit so I can leave?"
"You don't look like a girl who smokes."
"Just give me the fucking weed, man."
"Watch your mouth, princess," she said, smirking all the time while talking to you.
Princess?
Just when you were about to say something back, you got a call.
"No, I haven't taken it yet. I'll be back in a second."
Abby watched you, a bit confused, but she was understanding something.
"My friends were too embarrassed to come get it themselves, and they're also in a hurry. Can you just give me the weed and let me go?"
Bingo, she was right.
You gave her the money, and she finally gave it to you.
"Told you, you don't look like a girl who smokes."
"I don't want to be drug-obsessed like my fucking father." you say nonchalant
From that phrase, her smirk disappeared, and everything changed from Abby's perspective. You went back to your friends, and you guys hung out for a bit. After your friends got tired of walking, you sat down at some typical stairs with them, where they could smoke with no problems.While you were chatting with them, you saw a familiar woman walking towards your direction, Abby.You didn't care that much because those stairs were full of people smoking, drinking, or just chilling out. Your friends quietly freaked out when they saw her but without being noticeable. At first, you thought she knew someone in all this mess until your friends noticed her coming literally towards your direction.
"Hey princess, can you come here for a second?" she said with that fucking smirk.
You swore to God you wanted to rip it off her face.
You hesitated for a few seconds and then went down the stairs to reach her. She walked up to you, breaking the little space you had created between you two, and you were a few inches away from her.
"What do you want? If it's about the money, don't even try to argue with me. The money wasn't mine, and it wasn't any of my business, so you can go argue with my frien—"
"Shut up." You froze at this phrase and were getting ready for anything that could happen.
"Just wanted your number in case you want other things from me."
"I told you already, I don't smoke. If you want, I can give you one of my friend's numbers."
"You came reaching for me, not them."
You turned your head back to look at your friend and then back at Abby.
"Listen, Abby, each one of my friends right there has a crush on you. If I give you my number, they will get mad at me and think I'm trying to have something with you, trying to make them jealo—"
"Well, fuck them then." Abby put her arm behind your back, pushing you a little to make you walk with her until you were right next to her.
"What are you doing?"
"Relax."
"I hate you." She laughed at your sentence.
While you two walked away, Abby started a conversation with you, and you guys talked almost all night. When you had to leave, she insisted on having your number, saying she didn't care about your friends.
Since that day, you two enjoyed your time together more.
Funny, right?
Back to the present
There was a quiet silence between you two until...
"What's up with you?" Abby said, turning her head to look at you.
"Huh?"
"You're quiet today, something you barely are."
"It's nothing," you said, taking a small sip of your beer without looking at her.
"You're lying"
"I'm not, Abigail."
At that name, she turned to you, placed her hand on your shoulder, and pushed you a little. "Don't put the mean masc on me right now. You know you're not."
You rolled your eyes in response.
"Tell me what's going on, princess."
Princess.
A stupid nickname she gave you for playing around and not the way you wished she used it for you.
"I just... like a girl who doesn't like me back." At this phrase, Abby removed her back from the wall you two were sitting against and sat in front of you.
"And why doesn't this bitch"
"Don't call her that, Abby"
"Fine, fine," she said in an annoying tone while she carried her joint close to her lips and held it in, letting a puff of gray smoke out.
"She's just not into me."
"Don't lie to me. I know there's more."
"Oh my God, Abby."
"What? Can't I know why this bitch doesn't want you?" She kept her serious and attractive tone all the time. Why does she have to do that?
"Abby."
"Come on, Y/N."
"She's not into mascs, so I'm not her type at all. Caring and shit. She won't ever see me like that."
"It's not that big of a deal then"
"It is for me."
"Let me guess, she's a masc too."
"Yeah."
"You'll find someone else who's better than her."
"See, that's why I can't talk with you."
"What are you trying to say?"
"Abby, you never had a serious relationship. You've never been really in love. You literally flirt with 100 women every hour."
"That doesn't mean I can't give you my advice."
"Yeah, easy for you to say that. You can have every girl you want, and they will come to you with no second thoughts."
"What does it have to do with me, Y/N?" she said with her typical tone, even if irritated.
"Nothing, you don't understand," you said, looking away from her and taking another sip of your beer.
"Then what's the problem?"
"None, let's just forget about this."
"Now you tell me."
"I said, there's no problem."
"You know I'm not some of your stupid friends. Think about how you treat me," she said like she was about to kill you, but you ignored her completely.
"I'm talking to you," she said, grabbing your face with one of her veiny hands to face her.
"The problem is she's right in front of me," you said without noticing, irritated by the action she just did, removing her hand from your face brutally.
Oh fuck.
"What did you say?"
"I didn't mean it, I'm just mad." You didn't look at her, but with the corner of your eye, you saw a smirk appearing on her face.
"Abby, I'm drunk now. You can't take what I say seriously."
"A drunk person doesn't know she's drunk."
"Can you shut the fuck up?" After your sentence, Abby grabbed you by the neck and pulled you towards her face. You could literally see all her little freckles that you can't normally see.
"How many times do I have to tell you to watch your mouth, princess?"
"Abby, let me go. You're high," you said, trying to let go of her hand by trying to stand up but failing and falling on her lap.
"I can handle all of this more than you," she said, wrapping her hands around your waist.
"Abby, don't do things you're going to regret later."
"I'm not going to."
"Abby, seriously, I'm not any of your bitches. Don't fucking play with me."
"Watch your attitude with me, Y/N," she whispered, then slowly kissed your lips. Your mind started spinning so fast, and your heart was about to explode. One of her hands moved from your waist and slid into your pants. Her fingers made a connection with your clothed pussy.Slowly, her finger ran up your slit through your panties.
"Abby.."
"I'm right here, princess," she said as she applied more pressure, causing you to whimper, your hips bucking into her finger that wouldn't stop running through your slit. "Tell me, baby, who told you I wasn't into you, huh?" she said with a smirk plastered on her face. You didn't respond, too shocked by the situation. "Look at me." You hid yourself even more in her neck, too afraid of what could happen. "Y/N, I said look at me." You moved your head from her neck to face her. Those blue eyes were eating you alive.
"You're such a good girl." Abby pushed your panties to the side, and you moaned instantly, your body jerking as she slipped a finger inside you. "Look at you, so sweet and caring, kinda turns me on," she said, adding another finger into you while giving you hickeys on your exposed neck. All of this was unbelievable to you, so without caring too much, you started riding on her fingers. Her lips sucking on your neck, her fingers going in and out of your pussy, it was too much pleasure that you came right after hearing Abby moan in satisfaction.
"Fuck... Abby," you said, trying to catch your breath again, resting your head on her neck while she removed her hand from your panties and licked her fingers from your juices. You took a few seconds to realize what happened, and when you did, you tried to get away from Abby's grip, hoping you could run away and never see her again so you could drown your feelings for her, until you felt a pressure keeping you down.
"Where are you going, princess? You're stuck with me now," she said while her hands made their way under your shirt, caressing your back.
"I don't believe you, Abigail."
"Call me that name again, and I'Il find a way to shut this little pretty mouth of yours."
"Yeah, yeah, whatever."
"Don't worry, I'll show you who you belong to."
"Fuck you," you said, not looking at her.
You knew she probably just used you as her sex toy, so you tried your best not to fuck her off and run away.
Part 2?😭
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gunnerfc · 1 year ago
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Stuck | Alexia Putellas x Barça!Reader
summary: you get stuck in an elevator with your ex-girlfriend who you haven't spoken to since the break up
warnings: a tad suggestive and angsty
wc: 1352
author note: all translations are from google, sorry if they aren't 100% accurate!!
You sighed as you slammed your car door, the exhaustion from training having affected you more than normal. Perhaps it was because your mind was busy racing with thoughts of your ex-girlfriend and how upset you were with her rather than football. Entering the lobby of your building, too engrossed in responding to a text message from Patri to see you weren’t the only person waiting for the elevator.
“Tienes que estar bromeando. (you got to be kidding me.)” you heard a familiar voice huff as the elevator arrived. 
You glanced up from your phone, coming face to face with the person who's been clouding your thoughts. You rolled your eyes at the midfielder, moments like these are the downfalls of living in the same building as Alexia.
You ignored her comment as you both entered the elevator, hitting your respective floor numbers. The two of you stood as far away as you could in the enclosed space, both still too pissed at the other to even make small talk about training or the upcoming weekend game. 
The elevator made it seven floors from the lobby before you felt it jerk and halt in its place. The lights flickered off before coming back on. You and Alexia shared a concerned glance as you both realized the elevator got stuck. Of course, you would get stuck in an elevator with your ex-girlfriend who refused to even talk to you after the breakup.
“ay dios mío. (oh my god.)” you heard the blonde mumbled, irritation laced her words.
You mocked her words quietly already over your current predicament. From the corner of your eye, you saw Alexia look your way, anger written all over her face.
“¿Tiene usted un problema? (do you have a problem?)” Alexia growled, not wanting to be here anymore than you do. 
“Sí, estoy atrapada aquí contigo. (yeah, I'm stuck in here with you.)” You responded, your words coming out harsher than you meant, but you didn’t care how they affected Alexia.
The two of you have yet to have any sort of conversation post break-up unless it was on the pitch, but even then it was never more than what was needed. Alexia wouldn’t give you a chance to ask why she had broken up with you, which just added to your anger towards the captain. Alexia had decided to break up with you on what seemed like a whim, ending the two-year relationship like it meant nothing to her.
Alexia didnt respond, instead making an effort to call the lobby to let them know the elevator was stuck. The quicker it gets moving again, the quicker she can get away from you. She knew it wasn’t fair to at least give you an explanation for breaking up with you, but even she knew her answer would be stupid. Alexia was nervous about people potentially finding out about your relationship and thought the best thing to do was just end the relationship. She knew it was dumb but she couldn’t tell you that. Instead, she let you hate her.
You, in your best effort to ignore the blonde, went back to the conversation you were having Patri. It wasn’t helping though, hearing Alexia angrily talk to the man on the other end of the phone was doing something to you. You hadn't been with anyone since the breakup and it was starting to mess with you. Maybe had you taken Ona’s advice of hooking up with someone one time, you wouldn't be so affected by your ex-girlfriend.
Alexia huffed as she hung up, clearly in a worse mood after the call. You tried to keep your eyes locked on your phone and not Alexia’s clenched jaw. You gave her a good two minutes, thinking she would at least tell you what was said, but it never came.
“Well?” you broke the silence, seeing as the midfielder was not going to.
Alexia turned her head slightly towards you, an eyebrow raised as if she wasn't expecting you to speak, almost as if she had forgotten you were also stuck in the elevator. 
“Están trabajando en eso. No saben cuándo se solucionará. (they are working on it. they do not know when it will be fixed.)” the blonde stated, the anger ever present in her voice. You roll your eyes, though not directed at her but at the lack of information surrounding your situation.
“Si sigues haciendo eso, se quedarán atascados. (if you keep doing that, they will get stuck.)” Alexia chastised, eyes focused on the door of the elevator.
“¿Te importaría? (would you care?)” you shot back, irritation starting to grow the longer you stand in the unmoving elevator.
“Y/N…” the blonde groaned, knowing that the two of you could go on for days arguing with each other. 
As frustration grew between the two of you, so did the pent-up tension of not speaking and unanswered questions. You went back and forth in your mind, debating if you should ask Alexia why she broke up with you now that she had no way of leaving.
"seeing as we have nothing else to do, will you finally tell me why you broke up with me?" you didn't bother switching languages, knowing the blonde would understand what you asked.
"¿Podemos por favor no hacer esto, y/n? (can we please not do this, y/n?)" Alexia said, throwing her head back with a groan. 
"¿por qué no? No es que tengamos nada más que hacer. (why not? It’s not like we have anything else to do) " you quickly responded, fully turning to face your ex-girlfriend. 
Alexia lifted her head back and turned to face you and it seemed like the walls were closing in the longer the two of you held eye contact.
"no." 
"sí."
"no!"
"ye-" You weren't able to keep the argument going as your back was suddenly up against the side of the elevator. 
Alexia's hands were tightly holding your waist, keeping you locked between her body and the wall of the elevator. you struggled to control your breathing, having missed having her hands on you. 
Alexia's lips moved closer to yours, giving you time to push her away if you wanted to. Instead, you moved a hand to the back of her neck, pulling her into a searing kiss. The weeks of being apart evident in how heated the kiss was. The grip Alexia had on your waist tightened, pulling a small moan from your lips. 
Alexia’s lips moved their way over your jaw and down your neck, leaving a trail of kisses and small nips as she went. Your head was tilted back against the siding you pressed against, small pants leaving your mouth as Alexia left love bites wherever she wanted. 
Just as she pulled her away from your back, the elevator jolted to life, but neither of you made an effort to move away from each other. Alexia’s hands remained on your waist, your hand that was around her neck moving to rest against her chest. You could feel how fast her heart was beating under your palm. You could feel your own heart beating just as fast and you sure Alexia was aware as well.
The elevator dinged as it reached Alexia’s floor, she lived two floors down from you. As the doors opened, the blonde made no effort to detach herself from you. Alexia had taken too long to exit the elevator as the doors started to close again. 
Before they could fully close, Alexia moved to stick her hand in between them, forcing them open once more. Now standing in between the doors, halfway in the elevator, halfway in the hallway, the blonde stuck her hand out for you to take.
“¿quieres seguir? (do you want to continue?)” Alexia offered, a small smirk gracing her lips.
You took her hand without thinking letting her lead you down the familiar hallway, you could be angry at her the midfielder tomorrow. Right now, you were more concerned with the ache between your legs and how Alexia was going to take care of it.
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xoxo-author · 4 months ago
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My Salesman
Pairing: Salesman x reader
Warnings: my shitty writing, language, mentions of violence, probably so many errors
Side note: Does anyone know the salesman name in the show or do we really only know him as the salesman? Doesn’t bother me one bit either way 😉
Don’t be nasty! Please don’t copy my work!
Does the story make sense? No. Has it been living in my head since season 2 came out? Yes. Have I thought about the salesman at least 7 days a week since season 2 came out? Also yes.
Enjoy!
Credit to gif owner
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I let out a long sigh, "Can you please watch where you're going?"
"Holy shit, I found you!"
My head snaps up, confusion written all over my face. Jin, who I haven't seen in almost two years and who was a family friend, stands in front of me with wide eyes. My confusion only grows deeper as he wraps his arms around me tightly, brings me to his chest, and lifts me off the ground causing me to tense. 
He sets me back on the ground before pushing me to arms length with his hands on my shoulders, "Do you know how long I've been looking for you?"
"Looking for me?"
"You've been missing for three years!" 
"Missing?"
He nods, "You fell off the face of the earth and no one has heard from you since. Do you know how worried we all were?"
I shake my head, trying to shrug off his hands, "I'm not missing Jin."
Jin looks at me as if I was crazy, "You're not missing? Do you think we're all going to believe that you went away on your own? No, your dad was right to report you missing."
My dad? What the hell did he do now? "What the hell are you talking about?"
"Three years ago you vanished without a trace, no one hears from you or knows where you are. Your dad comes into the station and reports you missing."
"You're telling me, my father reported me missing to the cops?"
Jin nods, letting his hands fall from my shoulders down to my forearms, "He was so distraught, he was talking about how you guys were in the train station when a man in a grey suit with a briefcase who was tall approached him and asked him to play a game for money and when your dad refused, the man took you instead."
It doesn't necessarily shock me that my father would lie to the police, he was nothing more than a crook but to know that he reported me missing when it was his fault that I've been gone for three years is mind-blowing. 
"We sent out search parties, hung fliers, posted reward money for your return or any information on you or the man in the grey suit, we sent bolos to other cities and nearby countries, we checked surveillance tapes and everything came back with nothing."
I tilt my head to the side, "What do you mean surveillance tapes came back with nothing?"
I know for a fact that there were so many cameras in the station that one of them was bound to have caught my dad just hand me over to the grey suit guy. Granted I went willingly but still.
"The cameras were down the day you went missing."
I shake my head, of course they were. While my father is a complete sleazeball, he's a smart sleazeball who would cover all his bases. 
"Your case went cold until about two and a half years ago. We had a guy come in claiming he was taken to this island where there were four hundred and fifty-five other people there who owed money to someone or something. These people could play a couple of games and win money but if you lost a game you would be killed so there could only be one winner and this man claimed to be the winner. We thought he was complete batshit until he mentioned that he was approached by a tall man who wore a grey suit that had a briefcase who asked him if he wanted to play a game."
My father came home roaring drunk one night talking about how he was approached by someone in the station asking if he wanted to play a game for money and how he wanted the entire briefcase but the man wouldn't give it up so my father offered him something for the money in the case. That something was me. My father traded his own daughter for money.
When I found out, I was livid but then I realized it would be my only way out and away from him. 
We went to the station that same night and the man in the suit still stood there, seemingly waiting for my father to return. I suppose I should've beenfrightened at the fact that my father sold me to a stranger but I felt the complete opposite. Maybe it was the fact that he was dressed as an everyday salesman. I was calm as I stood by the man's side and watched my father walk away with the money. 
There was a small part of me that expected the man to let me go but he did not. I've been with him the past three years and I can say they've been the best three years. Yeah, he was completely batshit crazy. I mean he sent people to games where they were more than likely not coming back and he may have killed people (not quite positive on that one but he did come home with blood on his clothes and face so using context clues) but I wouldn't want to be anywhere else. I don't see the entire crazy side, I mostly only see the "normal" side. 
That's probably the daddy issues talking but that's a problem for another day. 
Letting out a sigh, I manage to tug one of my arms free, "Jin, as you can see, I am completely fine. I am unharmed and not missing. You can tell people I am fine but please don't tell them where I am."
His eyes go even wider, "You're coming home with me. I just told you that your father has been worried sick about you for the past three years and yet you don't want to come home or let me tell him where you are?"
If only he knew the truth about my father, although that might not matter as Jin has always tried, for some reason, to get on my father's good side. I knew of his crush on me since forever so I am sure that is his driving factor for wanting to be on my father's good side. 
Jin looks down as I try to tug my other hand free, his grip only getting tighter, "What's on your finger? Did you marry your kidnapper?"
It was about a year and a half when we got married. I fell for the "normal" side. Again, thank you daddy issues. 
Jin begins to tug on my arm, "You're coming home and that's the end of it. You and I will get married, your father will be happy, and you'll be home. Everything will go back to normal."
As I use my free hand to tug at his iron-like fist around my forearm, I manage to look at the time on his watch. My head shoots up, eyes frantically glancing over the different faces in the park in search of a certain man who doesn't like when his things are touched. 
Giving my forearm another tug, Jin starts trying to pull me in the opposite direction of where I was headed. 
"Jin, you need to let go of me right now."
A throat clearing behind me made Jin stop in his tracks, his head turning back to look at me. Or rather who was behind me.
I knew who it was without even having to look. 
"Who's this?"
My body tilts to the side a little while my head turns up, "A friend from home."
Returning my attention to Jin, I tug my arm again, "Jin, let go and go back home."
Jin's eyes seemingly trace every inch of the infamous man in the grey suit (although he had on black pants and a white button-up today), "Is this your kidnapper?"
Jins grip on my forearm tightens causing me to suck in a breath and as soon as the words, "Jin you're hurting me" came out of my mouth, my view was obstructed by a stretched-out (rather stretched due to broad shoulders) white button-up. 
"I believe my wife has told you that you are hurting her so it's in your best interest if you let go."
Jin's grip falters for a moment before going back to gripping my forearm, "I'm taking her back to where she belongs."
The man in front of me chuckles and I knew it was game over. 
"I don't like it when people touch what belongs to me."
I couldn't see anything but I could hear and what I heard was a fist connecting to face, more specifically a fist breaking a bone. 
Jin immediately let go of my arm, letting me move out from behind my shield who had his head tilted and his signature smirk. I could tell from the look in his eyes that he was in crazy mode. 
My salesman looks down at me, eyes quickly giving me a once over only to narrow when he sees my now see-through sundress. His eyes snaps back to Jin, who looked like he was about to shit his pants, "Not only was it enough to hurt my wife but you wanted to see what I get to have every night? Did you purposefully make her spill the drinks on herself?"
I quickly place myself in front of him, one of my hands going to his chest while the other goes to the side of his neck. Over the past three years, I've learned that skin-to-skin contact seems to help pull him out of the I'm a killer phase. "Look at me... Look at me, please...I want to go home."
His gaze snaps to mine and I give him a little smile, "Take me home?"
I could feel him relax a little before he reached up and takes hold of my hand that was on his chest. He shoots Jin a look that would for sure kill him if looks could kill and turn on his heels, pulling me in the direction of our home. 
I don't bother turning around to look at Jin.
"What was his favorite game to play as a child?"
My salesman was already looking at me when I looked up at him. 
"If you don't tell me, I'll have to pick my favorite and we both know which one that’ll be”
🔫🔫
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seeingivy · 2 years ago
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you belong with me
satoru gojo x f!reader
**part of my satoru as taylor swift songs series
content: high school!au, gojo is a robotics nerd, reader is class president, emo nanami (my beloved), toji is ur shitass football playing boyfriend, typical cheesy highschool drama
an: tell me why posting this is giving me a tummy ache like I haven't posted for gojo in forever and now i think I suck at it :OOO anyways, please be nice to me about this and close your eyes if you hate it. also, totally reliving my high school days when I was senior class vice president (worst experience of my life) FDLJFKDSJFLS
--
You’re a hater. A self proclaimed, real-life, deep in your soul hater. 
What do you hate today? Being class president. 
You hate that you willingly ran, somehow won, had people up your ass all day about stuff that wasn’t in your control, and got stuck in the current situation you were in. Which was arguing with your boyfriend Toji, as you pace around your room and do your own fair share of screaming back. 
“You just did that shit because you were pissed at me.” 
“I did not, Toji. You know, not everything is about you. Other people needed the money and I put it where it was needed.” 
“To the color guard team? Babe, no one gives a fuck about the color guard team. Everyone is at the homecoming game to watch the football team. Not a bunch of idiots waving flags in the air.” 
“They’re also part of the game and all their equipment is broken. They need it more than you when you guys literally get donors and funding from the district and-”
“You’re just pissed about the sweetheart thing. That’s why you’re doing this shit and taking it out on everyone else.” 
“Toji, I’m not even mad about-” 
You’re met with the sound of ringing over the phone, signaling that Toji had enough and finally hung up on you. You flop straight onto your bed, pushing your face so hard into your pillow that sits uncomfortably against your nose and the smell of your laundry detergent makes its way to the crevices of your brain.
You hear a banging behind you and twist around to see Gojo pointing at his walkie-talkie, switching it on as you reach for yours. It’s still covered in glittery pink stickers from when you were seven, the silver coming off on your hand every time you grab it. 
“Come in, bunny.” 
“Loud and clear, Toru.” 
He smiles, setting his hardware down - probably for another weird ass robot he was making - as he holds it up to his face, talking again. 
“You okay?” 
“Yeah. Just arguing with Toji, again. I’ll start allocating some of our funds to get you some sound proof windows.” 
“Much appreciated, Madam President. That’s very generous of you.” 
You laugh, dropping the walkie talkie to lift your fingertips to your temples, lightly massaging the pulsating under your skin. 
“For what it’s worth, the color guard team is really grateful you did that for them. I know Utahime was so excited when the new flags came in, she was flipping them around on the field for hours.” 
“That’s why it’s even more annoying. I know what I did was right, but he just doesn’t see it that way. Uta dragged me down to the field to watch them and their choreography looks so much better with the multicolored flags. They were really happy about it.” 
“Heavy is the head that wears the crown?” 
“Heavy is the head that’s dating Toji Fushiguro.” 
He laughs as you switch your channel off, taking the last few seconds to study you before you draw your curtains. He can see the tension sitting in your shoulders and how clearly it hurts you to argue with Toji like this. And it infuriates him. That you even have to go to sleep angry and that the cause is the headass idiot you’re dating. 
Toji Fushiguro is lucky, far more lucky than he realizes. Not for obvious reasons. Yeah, he’s a great football player and yeah, he’ll probably get scouted for some really good university at the end of the year. He doesn’t have a shortage of friends or intelligence and for all intents and purposes, he’s loved (which Gojo doesn’t understand at all). 
He’ll probably be that scumbag that people see a few years down the line and then get infuriated at. Because if an absolute asshat like Toji Fushiguro can be successful, then truly all things have gone to shit. That the patriarchy is real, that society is broken, living proof that the asshole always wins and everyone else always loses. 
But no, those are common reasons to hate Toji Fushiguro - ones he’s heard echoed by Suguru and Shoko every time he does something that pisses the two of them off. Like scream obscenities in the hallways, block their parking spots when they’re going to class, call them names when they walk by. 
No. Toji Fushiguro is lucky because he gets to date you. Because out of the long list of girls he had to pick one, Toji just had to pick the one that was his. The girl he’s been in love with since he moved in right across the street and had a smiley neighbor excitedly waving at him through her bay window. 
To him, love has always been the pigtail braids you used to wear everyday in the fourth grade, the matching walkie-talkies you bought him in sixth grade when he got grounded, and that sweet smile you’ve had since the first day he’s met you. 
And when he sees those green curtains pulled against the bay window he’s stared at for years, where he’s loved you from for years, he lifts the walkie and says what he forgot to mention. 
I love you.
--
Thanks to your gracious ride, you make it to school thirty minutes early. Your intuition - that Toji was ditching you as your ride to school this morning - was correct. Luckily, you made it in time just before class started. 
Nanami’s already seated on the green bench outside the classroom, headphones plugged into his ears. As you walk up, you silently wonder how much hair gel it takes to keep his Gerard Way hairstyle in place. 
“Hi Kento! How is my best friend doing on this fine morning?” 
“We’re not best friends.” 
“Sure we are!” 
You reach forward and pinch his cheek in your hand, which he only swats off and rolls his eyes at. That’s how you know your best friends. Because if it was anyone else, Nanami would probably break their hand and walk away. But he always lets you tease him, because he know he loves you. 
“Are you still fighting with that dog?” 
“That dog has a name. And it’s Toji. And I’m not sure, he didn’t pick me up for school this morning.” 
“Did he at least tell you he wouldn’t?” 
“No. I was lucky enough that Satoru had walked Megs to the bus stop a little late and I was able to get a ride with him.” 
Nanami looks over, narrowing his eyes at you, as the hallway starts getting crowded with people. And you know what he’s saying, what he’s been saying for the past few months. 
“You know, it’s very normal to give your neighbor a ride when they need one. Not everything has ulterior motives, Kento.” 
“That’s true. Everything doesn’t have ulterior motives. But he does. I’ve seen how he looks at you.”
“How does he look at me, Kento?” 
“Like he’d kiss the ground you’d walk on.” 
You roll your eyes, reaching up to mess up his perfectly styled hair. It doesn’t budge and you get a handful of minty smelling hair gel.
“As if.”
Like you’ve summoned him by bringing him up, Satoru’s sidestepping to where you and Nanami are sitting, Shoko and Getou in tow with him. 
“Nanami~~ How’s my best friend doing?” Satoru says, bending over to totally obscure Nanami’s line of vision.
“Shut the fuck up, Gojo.” Nanami responds. 
Nanami stands up, giving you a look, before he stalks away to his next class. Leaving you, Satoru, Shoko, and Getou standing in front of your classroom.  
“So. I hear you have a robotics competition?” you ask.
“Yeah. Next Saturday. We always practice our hardware out the night before, throw a little party in the lab. You should come.” Getou says, smiling at you. 
Satoru smacks Getou in the stomach right after he invites you, clearly trying to tell him something with his eyes. And then when he catches you staring, he gives you a nervous laugh. 
You get it. He doesn’t want you there.
“Don’t act too excited to see me now, Satoru. Anything more and I might think you like me.” you bite sarcastically.
“What? No, it’s not like that. I just-” Satoru stutters, 
“So you don’t like me?” you say, smirking at him. Shoko and Getou are laughing, the tips of Satoru’s turning pink as he very adamantly tells you that he does indeed like you. 
“I have stuff to set up for the homecoming game that day, so I won’t be able to. But I’ll try my best, yeah?” 
“Okay. Next time?” Getou asks. 
“Sure, Sugar-u. I’ll see you guys around, yeah?” 
You give the three of them a polite smile as you trudge away, leaving to meet Toji at his locker and give him a piece of your mind for this morning. Which leaves Shoko and Getou to give Satoru the scolding of his life. 
“Are you fucking stupid, Satoru? You made it seem like you didn’t want her there.” Shoko says, smacking him on the back of the head. 
“I panicked! Plus, Haibara always likes to play Just Dance and I’d rather not embarrass myself in front of her.” Satoru responds, rubbing the now sore spot on the back of his head. 
“You’re hopeless, Satoru. She’s never going to like you if you keep rejecting her the way you do.” Suguru says, dragging him along to the robotics lab. 
“She has a boyfriend. Who isn’t me. As if she would even consider dating me in the first place.” 
And when the three of them pass you by the lockers, clearly getting yelled at by Toji, it only furthers their argument more. 
“Yeah, I’m sure she really loves him, Satoru.” 
--
Your argument with Toji hours prior simmers in your head, as you wait for the bus to arrive and for this godforsaken day to finally be over. You watch him pile into his car with Salma and the other boys from the football team, which only makes your anger fester more. 
He’s doing this to piss you off. Of course, he’s doing this to-
“Need a ride?” 
You look up and unclench your fists to find Satoru, sparkly blue eyes shining at you and a hand held out to you. 
“Thanks.” 
He leads you to his car, an almost demolished Honda Civic from his maniacal driving, and you climb in, immediately putting your head in your hands. You can feel him moving around you, the engine purring on and him backing out of the spot. 
“About earlier. I don’t not want you to come to the robotics thing. I just thought it was awkward the way he asked you and I-I didn’t want you to feel obligated to come, you know? And I-I’d like it if you came too and so would the rest of us.” he rambles, a hand in his hair. 
You look up, his ears tinted pink from the confession. 
“I was just teasing you, Satoru. I’ll try to make it by, okay?” 
He sighs, a clear breath of relief, and looks over to smile.
“Okay, cool cool cool. Now tell me why you and Toji are fighting.” 
“When aren’t we fighting?” you murmur, pressing your head against the glass. 
“But why?” 
And when you look over, his blue eyes staring into yours, in earnest while the light is red, you unload it all. 
“Do you know about the sweethearts thing they do at the homecoming game?” 
“Uh. That’s when the cheerleaders wear the jerseys right. And then decorate the locker room or some shit for the players.” 
“Yeah. Well, it’s not limited to cheerleaders. It usually is, but if you’re dating someone, that person can do it for you.” 
“So I’m guessing Toji doesn’t want you to do it for him.” 
“Not exactly. He was just saying that it’s more traditional for a cheerleader to do it since they’re also on the side of the track and he wants to see his name out there instead of running around, trying to make sure the game is running and all that.” 
You slump into the chair as Satoru frowns, a pitying look in his eyes, as he keeps driving. You can’t help but watch him, his silhouette against the window - defined jaw, the slope of his nose. 
He’s not the guy who ran away from kissing you in the eighth grade. He’s just ten times hotter. 
You shake your head, letting the thought spill from your mind, as Satoru looks over. 
“Jamoca?” he says, giving you a wide grin. 
You can’t help but laugh, nodding as Satoru makes a sharp left turn, making his way to the ice cream shop. 
Jamoca is your favorite ice cream flavor. Coffee, layered with fudge and almonds, became a proclaimed favorite when Satoru dragged you once in the sixth grade. After very sorely losing the class president battle, you moped in your room for five days - even going as far as borrowing one of Nanami’s My Chemical Romance vinyls to truly and properly mope. 
On day three of blasting the vinyl, Satoru called enough and dragged you to the closest ice cream store, claiming it was the closest thing to therapy that you normies could afford. Since then, any bad day was easily solved with two things. 
Jamoca and Satoru. 
When you make it to the store, Satoru’s excitedly dragging you out of the car, his hand pressed in yours as you both run into the store, giggling while you order your single scoops. And when he drags you out to the curb and you sit there, you silently think to yourself why you ever stopped doing this in the first place. 
Satoru leans over, digging his chocolate fudge covered spoon into your cup, before talking. 
“So. If you guys fight so much, why are you still dating?” 
“Dunno. Feels weird to initiate a breakup, I guess. I can’t see myself doing it.” 
“Even when he wants other girls to be his sweetheart?” 
“Even when he wants other girls to be his sweetheart.” 
You kick the pebbles into the broken parts of the pavement, leaning your elbows on your knees. 
“I don’t know, Toru. I guess he was just the first guy who ever liked me back and then I….spent so much time in the relationship and trying to make it work that it feels weird to let it go now.” 
Satoru swallows hard, eyeing his melting ice cream, as he ponders the best response. Because in earnest, he has two options. Support you or be selfish. Support you to stay with Toji, to do what you’ve been doing because he knows it’s what you want. Or be selfish. Tell you that he you deserve better, that he could be that for you if you just let him. 
He reaches over, flicking you in the forehead. 
“Ouch, asshole.” 
“You’ve got a really big brain in there. And you always have. You’ll figure out the right thing to do, just give it time.” 
And when you give him a halfhearted smile, reaching over into his cup for a bite of his ice cream, he lets it go. 
He can’t be selfish. Not when it comes to you anyways. 
--
After running around all day, you give yourself thirty minutes to go to Satoru’s robotics thing. After triple checking the microphones work, the yearbook team has access to the field, the glitter has been set out for everyone trickling in, and that everyone who could possibly need your phone number has it, you speed run to the other side of campus, to the robotics lab. 
And when you make it, the five of them - Haibara, Nanami, Shoko, Getou, and Satoru - are in the room playing Just Dance. Shoko’s sitting on top of the desk, flippantly moving her remote in the air, while Satoru quite literally is trying to give it all he’s got - and losing apparently. 
You lightly push the door open, which stops the two of them in their tracks, and you’re met with some very excited cheers as they all drag you into the room. You take a seat next to Nanami, giving his cheek a pinch, which he hates. 
“You’re Haibara, right?” 
“You know who I am?” 
“Why wouldn’t I? You’re friends with Nanami and Nanami and I are best friends.” 
“No we aren’t.” responds Nanami, now sulking two seats away from you. 
“Are too.” 
You throw the nearest object, a pencil at Nanami, as you turn back to Haibara and laugh. 
“I like your shirt. Flight of the Navigator is a really good movie.” 
You see Satoru, Shoko, and Suguru’s eyes widen in the back at your words and hear a considerable amount of groaning from Nanami behind you. And after twenty minutes, you find out why. 
Haibara really, really loves Flight of the Navigator. Almost too much. In earnest, you barely remember the movie - at most, maybe the weird little alien companion he has. But here Haibara is, reciting the cast, the directors, acting out the scenes and it’s clear to you that you’ve tapped into some monster they all keep hidden. 
Luckily for you, Satoru comes to your rescue. 
“Okay, Haibara. I’m going to steal her for you for some Just Dance.” 
“I don’t Just Dance Satoru.” 
“Oh yeah? You’re just saying that because you know you’re going to lose.” 
You scoff, knowing exactly what he’s doing. 
“As if, sweetheart. I distinctly remember you banning us from ever playing that game together after I beat you in the fifth grade.” 
“You’re rusty. Maybe we’ll start with something easy. Like Rasputin.” 
“I could do Rasputin in my sleep, bitch.” 
“Prove it.” 
You roll your eyes as you march over to the front, where they’re projecting the game onto the screen. And just for posterity’s sake, you take Satoru’s sunglasses from where they were flipped over on the desk and put them on, effectively blinding yourself from the screen. 
And when the songs start, you can hear them all laughing behind you, Satoru and you hurling insults at each other as you dance on. And somewhere around the middle, you’re sure Satoru must be losing because he grabs your hands and suddenly he’s swinging you around in the air, his hands on your waist as you laugh. 
And when you take your blindfold off and the song dies down, Satoru wins by five points. 
“You asshole. You literally cheated, Satoru.” 
“Did not. You’re just a sore loser, bitch.” 
“You kiss your mom with that mouth?” 
“Every night, sweetheart.” 
You put the palm of your hand in his face as you push him away, moving to sit on the desk. He joins you, the two of you now watching Haibara and Nanami have a very one sided dance battle. 
After forty-five minutes, Satoru’s phone buzzes three times and the smile on his face drops when he checks. You place your hand on his, squeezing twice before asking. 
“You okay?” 
“Huh. Oh, yeah. I-I think you should go to the field. Right now.” 
“Wait, what? But you hate that kind of-” 
He grabs your hand, dragging you out, as you both start running to the field. You keep asking as he pulls you on, getting almost no response and only a faster pace. 
And when you reach the field, you catch just the end of it and the only thing grounding you to that moment is Satoru and Utahime, who was surely the one who had texted Satoru, holding onto your shoulders. 
Salma, the cheerleader Toji picked to be his sweetheart, just asked him to homecoming during halftime. And he said yes. 
Utahime squeezes your hand three times, a soft look in her eyes when she talks. 
“I’m so sorry, Y/N. I just thought you would want to know and I wanted to tell you because you’ve been nothing but nice to me.” 
You smile, moving into her open arms as you whisper a small thank you into her shoulder. She leaves, having to return to the color guard team waiting for her on the side, leaving you and Satoru standing on the pavement right by the field. 
“Take you home?” 
“Thanks, Toru.” 
“You want Jamoca?” 
“Not today.” 
He nods, a hand on the small of your back, as he leads you to his car, even going as far as opening the door for you and letting you crack the windows while you drive back - which you know he hates. 
At the first red light, he taps on the top of your head to get your attention. 
“Penny for your thoughts?” 
“Do you think there’s something wrong with me?” 
“What? Of course, not. Toji is just an asshat who doesn’t see you for what you’re worth and-” 
“No. No, no. Not like that. Do you think there’s something wrong with me because I’m not even the tiniest bit sad right now? I’m…relieved.” 
Satoru looks over, the red front the traffic light flashing on your face, and a blank expression staring back at him. 
“Of course, not. He’s a grade one idiot. Anyone in your position would feel that way, bunny.” 
“I know. That’s true.” 
“But?” 
“Does this make me defective, Satoru? Like, maybe I just can’t like people that much or something and I was the problem.” 
Satoru twiddles his thumbs on the steering wheel, pondering the same question he has been asking for the past few days. Encourage her or be selfish. 
He can’t be selfish with you. 
“Okay, Y/N. Close your eyes.” 
“Huh?” 
“Just do it.” 
“Okay.” 
He looks over, to find you eyelids fluttering shut, your face lit up by the streetlights outside.
“Now. Tell me about your dream guy, bunny.” 
“What are you going on ab-” 
“Just do it.” 
You sigh, before thinking hard about his question. 
“Someone I can be comfortable with. That’s my type. Like we can have fun together and play games but also being around them is comforting to me. Things might suck, but at least they are there to kind of pick me up at the end of the day. They’re nice to people and are surrounded by good company, because you are who you love and they try to be better each day.” 
After finishing, you open your eyes to find Satoru staring at you, an all-knowing look on his face. 
“Bunny?” 
“Toru?” 
“Does that sound anything like Toji to you?” 
You slump back into your chair, sinking down. 
“No.” you murmur. 
“You aren’t defective. Well, maybe in the higher level cognitive thinking part because you clearly have some impaired decision making but-” 
“Hey. Don’t be rude, asshole.” 
“Get out of the car.” 
You crane your head out the window to see you’re in fact not at your house, but at the ice cream store. And when he comes around to your side of the car, opening your door, he drags you out, the two of you eating you ice cream in the light of the dingy lamp outside the store. 
--
You knock hard on your window, only stopping when Satoru looks up from his desk, dropping the pencil he was just scribbling with. You point to your walkie talkie, switching on the channel as he grabs his. 
“Hi bunny. You look nice.” 
“Thank you. Are you coming tonight?” 
To homecoming. Because despite all odds and last night, you still have to go. And crown the homecoming king and queen since you’re the class president, which you’re sure will be Salma and Toji since the universe is very, very kind to you. 
“I’m sorry. Haibara needed help designing something for next week.” 
“Oh. Okay. I wish you were.” 
“I wish I was too. His hardware is Flight of the Navigator themed so wish me luck.” 
You laugh, giving him one last smile as he pulls the curtains to his window. And when you see his navy windows against the pane you’ve stared at him through for years, it only now occurs to you. 
When he asked you to describe that last night, he unlocked something. Bringing it to your attention, to the forefront of your mind. 
The person you were describing is him. You lift your walkie talkie to your mouth, press the button, and mention the words you forgot to say. 
I love you.
And then you turn on your heel and drive yourself to the dance. 
--
Satoru ponders it for thirty minutes. 
Support her or be selfish. Support her or be selfish. Support her or be selfish. 
Be fucking selfish. 
Satoru gets up, dropping the hardware he was making for Haibara, and pulls out the first suit he can find. He grabs his walkie talkie off his desk, convinces Megumi to go beg your mom (who loves Megumi) for your walkie talkie, and then goes ninety on the freeway to get to the school on time. 
He finds Nanami first, the glob of gel on his head somehow even worse than normal and sets his plan in motion. 
“Nanami.” 
“Please, for the love of god, not tod-” 
“Go hand this to Y/N.” 
Nanami and now Shoko are taking the walkie in their hands, flipping it over and inspecting it like they’re the fucking FBI. And more importantly, wasting time. 
Three feet away, you’re standing by the punch table, counting how many balloons are on the ceiling. You reach three hundred and fifteen when you’re approached for the first time that night, by Nanami and Shoko. 
“Nanami. What is going on with your hair? You can’t possibly need that much hair gel.”
“You would be shocked, Y/N.” 
“That's what I said to him too. But this is for you.” Shoko says.
She hands you your walkie talkie, the silver glitter coming off on your hand, as you flip it over. 
“Did you break into my house, Shoko?” 
“No. But I’m guessing Satoru did. He ran in here five minutes ago and basically yelled at us to give it to you.” 
They both shrug as they walk away and you look around, clutching the walkie talkie so hard in your hand you think you might break it. Satoru’s here.
And when you scan your eyes around the room, you see him at the front door, his eyes already fixed on yours. He’s smiling so big that it makes your heart squelch and suddenly you’re moving towards him. And as you both start walking (running) to each other, you can’t help but feel the anticipation of what’s coming. 
Except that’s right when Toji stands in the middle of the two of you, his characteristic slimy, sneer on his face. He reaches for your hand first. 
“Can we talk, Y/N?” 
"No."
You shrug your hand off, pushing right past him, as you walk closer to Satoru. You can hear Toji shouting something at you, but you’re too tunnel visioned on Satoru to pay attention. And when you reach him, you’re both smiling so big at each other, that it makes your face hurt. 
He lifts his walkie talkie to his mouth, talking first. 
“Come in, bunny?” 
“Loud and clear, Toru.” 
“I love you.” 
You can feel yourself smiling so big, so excited that you’re basically jumping on your toes, your walkie shaking in your hand. 
“I love you.” 
“Oh thank god. I was scared I was going to get a breaking and entering charge.”
You laugh, pulling him down by his tie and kissing him square on his face. And when he pulls away, ears pink and face red, you whisper against his lips. 
“It was always going to be you. I belong with you.” 
He smiles, that stupid smile you’ve stared at, loved for years and you can’t help but cheese, leaning forward to kiss him again.
--
the satoru as taylor swift songs series masterlist
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suguru-getos · 2 years ago
Text
୨・┈﹕✦﹕ Kinktober Day 30﹕✦﹕┈・୧
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-> Event Masterlist
Geto Suguru x F!Reader -> Semi-Public Sex
Summary: Meeting your senior who you have a lot of unsaid chemistry with on his best friend - Gojo Satoru's birthday went unlike what you could ever imagine. After all, Suguru can be patient all the time, however, not when you have people like Haibara and no shame left to not rile Suguru up. ;) Warnings: No warnings as such, slightly jealous Suguru - however, it's not overbearing, Nicknames (Cute ones), F!ngering, hickeys, wall-sex, etc. Shoko caught us :P Suguru being cute UwU
The moment your eyes met Suguru at Satoru's birthday party, you knew exactly how it will turn up for you. It's ravishing, how he looks in casuals, wearing a denim jogger and a loose fitted white T shirt, hair neatly tied in a bun that accentuates his features more than you can imagine… then again, Suguru Geto is the epitome of siren gaze, the way the drink in his hand languidly touches his lips while his eyes continue to stare into you… it was like sex with eyes.  All-consuming in the best of ways.
Haibara distracted you from your internal thoughts, and the steamy eye-contact session with your senior. He has such a welcoming grin as he strikes a conversation with you, smiling and gleaming with joy as he blushes. He can't even hide his crush on you. "Y/N, oh my you look so beautiful." He beamed, leaning into your ear to make sure his voice reaches you with the ongoing bustle of the party. When the distance between you and Haibara lessens, Suguru's dislike is evident with the way his jaw clenches. Satoru notices it right through him, "Aw, someone's having a silly little crushie crush." Satoru elbowed Suguru, to which the latter's response was an annoyed eye-roll. Yes he has a 'crushie-crush' and right now, his 'crushie-crush' was knowingly pushing his buttons to erupt a reaction out of him. You think you're so slick, leaning in to Haibara and fake laughing at his jokes, complimenting his perfume. You want Suguru to come to you so bad huh?
Your confidence and internal bratiness fade away like the mist when you notice Suguru walking towards you two, heavy footsteps and not a friendly body-language at all. You gulped, when his large palm, almost covering Haibara's shoulder landed onto it, squeezing it gently. Haibara flinched, turning back to see Suguru faintly smiling, "Haibara kun, why don't you excuse me and Y/N san for a moment, hmm?" He asked it in a questioning way, but it had no option of denying. The grip on Haibara's shoulder was tightening with every passing second. You could see it with the crumpled crease on the crisp ironed shirt.
Fuck, so far, you and Suguru have hung out usually in the group. You two have talked one-on-one on several occasions, went on missions together too, but after the amicable senpai-kouhai relationship turned into something with sexual tension and chemistry; you two haven't said much. Just letting the realization sink in.
Haibara eventually left, nervously chuckling with his hand rubbing the back of his head when Suguru's aura encapsulated the whole situation. He was playful, he was kind, he was beautiful, he was also someone who carried a silent sense of authority. A dangerous sense of crippling control which would crumple just about anyone- except Gojo Satoru.
"Enjoying yourself?" Suguru lessened the distance, hands shoved in his pockets as he leaned in to match your height. You managed to nod with a smile, maybe playing glib would help.
"Yes of course, aren't you?" You smiled, looking up at him with a careful collection of all your confidence in one go. You didn't want to seem too cocky, but you also didn't want to look nervous.
"Of course I am. It's my Best Friend's birthday, why wouldn't I?" Suguru tilted his head, clicking his tongue at the way your eyes ensured eye-contact. It made a series of dull throbs reach his core, how cute would you look when he forces you to make eye contact, holding your face while he's drilling your cunt. Maybe Haibara can watch so he doesn't try seeking you out again..
"How cute, Haibara has a crush on you and you're making sure it persists?" Suguru came right to the point, and you blinked. Oh no, you can't act glib and unaware anymore can you?
"At least, he's 'pursuing' what he likes." You managed to excuse yourself, willingly brushing against Suguru's arm for a drink.
Suguru's eyes met Satoru's at that very moment, the white-haired man pulling a simpy thumbs up for his best friend. Oh he was rooting so hard it was almost adorable. While you knew Suguru would follow you again, making sure the conversation is not ending so easy. You riled him up, you need to take responsibility by bearing the consequences, it's only fair.
Suguru reached the bar counter, standing right behind you, leaning in against the shell of your ear, "Perhaps, you consent to being pursued then?" The lacey arrogance in his tone, along with the build-up surety of you not going anywhere from him- made him sound so hot. You closed your eyes for a second, biting your lip with a nod.
"Then, does my Pursued little menace want to take this elsewhere?" Suguru beamed, you turned around, hand lacing down from his shoulder to his chest, looking up. "Am I just being pursued for sex, Geto sama?" You raised a brow, and Suguru smiled, head-patting you gently. "No. I can be a bit too old school for this," he smiled, truth-laced eyes confessing his intentions before any sentence ever could.
You smirked, walking away, turning back to make sure you nudge him to follow you. Before you could reach anywhere, Suguru's hands wrapped around your wrist, pinning you against the nearest wall in the solitary corridor away from the party. "Got you." He nuzzled his nose, leaning in and shutting you up before you could say anything, kissing you passionately and shoving his tongue in, eating your breaths and whimpers. Fuck, you've wanted this so bad, too. You have Haibara and Gojo to thank.
His hands wandered across every little curve of your body, squeezing your clothed breasts, pushing you further into the wall while you feel his semi on your stomach, bulging, pressing.
"Shit, you-" Words were failing you, Suguru was demanding, it was the way his hands wrapped around the back of your head, wrapping neatly into your hair to tilt your face upwards. "Look at me." Suguru hummed, stray hand shoved into your panties and feeling your warm pussy, your drooling cunt. "Who's this for, Little one?" Suguru smirked, taking his fingers tainted with your arousal and suckling in front of you. "It is for you, Geto san." You blushed, you wanted to use his first name so bad, but something depraved about not being in First Name basis yet and still having his fingers deep beneath your cunt did something to you.
"Better be all for me, if it were for anyone else I’d have to be mean and teach your pretty pussy a lesson." Something about the ease with which Suguru said absolute filth to you, made you throb and whimper. Fuck- what if someone catches you two?
You whimpered again, feeling the probing of him inside you, curling his fingers and kissing your moans off. "I don't mind you screaming, maybe I can tell Satoru to shut off the music so they can hear you properly?" Suguru teased, while all you could do was shake your head no.
His mouth latched onto the curve of your neck, suckling onto your supple skin and searching for the sweet spot that'd have your legs give out. When Suguru found it, you bucked at the shocking waves of pleasure, "Shit, Geto- san, Geto- hmm, wanna-" "Cum for me? You are so cute, I'd let you this time. Next time say something along the lines of, 'Let me', are we clear darling?" You noticed the hidden stern-ness in his sentence, malleable though, one that said you don't really 'actually' have to, but it would be fun to submit. It would feel light and feathery to submit. It would be rewarding, to submit.
You nodded, gnawing at your lip as you felt the orgasm rake through your body. Shivering and spasming all around him with your drenched pussy.
Your moans almost caught people's attention. Shoko was standing at the end of the corridor, it wasn't lit up properly, but you did hear her whistle. "Get it Y/N!" She grinned, and oh boy you flushed harder than a ripe tomato. "Bagged Geto finally eh?" She cackled, clapping. "Good luck."
"Fucking hell she's getting it from me." You shuddered, pouting in embarrassment. Suguru leaned in, kissing your worries off with a soft, tender touch. One that said, 'I'm here'.
"Climb onto me sweetheart," Suguru wrapped your legs around him, good thing you wore a skirt. Easy to now shove your panties to the side and shove it all in.
Suguru did exactly that, one hand wrapped shut around your mouth as you felt his girthy, veiny cock break into your sopping cunt. Your scream muffled just right, god it felt so carnal. How you struggled to take him all in, how you screamed out, how you massaged him so needily.
"Ssh, that's it. All in, good girl." Suguru grunted, gasping a little along with you. "I'll take you on a date after, have to show you I am a gentleman too." Suguru chuckled, kissing your forehead as he started moving inside you. Reaching depths within you, until he couldn't possibly probe into you anymore. Your cunt stopping him from going in further.
You screamed, moaned and whimpered at the stretch, at the deep thrusts and how each one made you see stars. You are pretty sure Gojo Satoru at least, is hearing all of it. Oh you'll never see the end of it with him…
"Get- Geto san,-" You whimpered, feeling the familiar coil in your pelvis about to snap.
"Suguru, call me Suguru." He groaned, leaning in and suckling onto your earlobe, thrusting sloppier but still deep.
"Sugu- Ah, Let me cum, please." Oh his baby is such a fast learner, it makes him blush and smile hard. "Of course, Angel." He smiled, tipping off the edge too, taking the liberty to fill you up, painting your walls white and riding both of your orgasms until he finally halted.
"I'll get you a Plan B, don't worry." He coos, wrapping his hand around your face and cupping it preciously, wanting to soothe you, wanting to look at you more and wanting to love you.
"Let's go back, and please, be right by my side. Can't face em' alone after all this." You pouted with a chuckle.
"Of course, going to be right by your side." Suguru said sincerely, and he meant every word of it, whether it was a lifetime or just this party.
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