#how can i be hung up on people i haven't talked to in more than a year three years even

[theywantedplayer]

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.”

[girlivealwaysbean]

it's so weird when once what was a very important exciting day becomes just another day insignificant and meaningless

[ssahotchnerr]

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?"

[ashwhowrites]

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

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.

[juniperdugong]

Photobooth - Wonwoo

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

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.

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!

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".

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

[look-me]

“𝑷𝑹𝑰𝑵𝑪𝑬𝑺𝑺”

masc!reader x dealer!abby

————————-

warnings: fingering, using of weed, semi-public sex, r!receiving, idk what else lol

————————

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?😭

[gunnerfc]

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.

[seeingivy]

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]

୨・┈﹕✦﹕ Kinktober Day 30﹕✦﹕┈・୧

-> 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.

[nightlyrequiem]

Crawl to Me

The world ended long ago. Now belonging to the undead that roam it, feeding on the last surviving people. You've learned to avoid the rotters. You have a past with one and like when she was alive, she's not willing to let you escape so easily.

New Part Every Thursday

Masterlist AO3

A/N- I was actually working on an apocalyptic fic in June, but I genuinely couldn't figure out how to progress the story in an interesting way. I still want to write one though because I'm a slut for apocalypse stories. This ones kind of lengthy. Like 2800 words

Tags/Warnings: Undead Valeria, No Use of the Word 'Zombie', Apocalypse, Gore, Stalking, WLW, Implied But Also In Your Face Toxic Relationship

The world ended eight months ago. A disease thawed from the melting glaciers and ravaged through the living population faster than it could control. Hospitals were overrun and the government declared a state of emergency. You weren't to leave your homes for anything. Rations were to be dropped off by authorized personal. They followed all the proper protocols and procedures, and it wasn't enough.

"Do you think this is expired?" A woman asks. She's rooting through a pile of canned food while you and a man keep a watch out. The infected are more active at night. A quick acting evolutionary behavior to avoid the scorching heat of the Mexican sun, to preserve the decaying host for longer.

"No." The man replies, voice deep and buttery. "Canned food can last for years past it's expiry date."

Something moves outside, kickstarting your heart. Some infected still wander out during the day. Your hands are sweating, making it hard to hold the gun. Valeria tried to teach you how to hold a gun once. You were never comfortable around them though. You peer outside, ears too sensitive in the unnatural quiet. A thin stray dog runs past the window. Clumps of fur missing from mange. You relax. Rotters will attack and eat any animal they catch but so far, you haven't seen any animals actually get infected with the disease. You shudder at the idea of running from a pack of infected strays. Their frothing jaws hung open, breath sour with illness. Sinking their teeth into the soft flesh of your thigh.

"Hurry it up, Grace." The man growls. He was a military officer; despite that he has no patience. You don't care for him. He reminds you of Valeria.

Grace shoves cans into her duffel bags. Filling them so much that she struggles with the zipper.

"If you want this to be faster then maybe you should be doing this, Rojan." She growls. Hoisting the heavy bags up and adjusting them on her shoulders. Rojan doesn't reply. Just stares out the window stoically. On the other side of the small supermarket, another man looks through magazines instead of being useful. Holding them up in the sparse light to leer at the women on the pages.

You and your small group move on. Exiting the store. The sun is hot and unforgiving. The ground beneath your feet is dry and cracked. Only the toughest of weeds able to grow from the pavement.

"What are we going to do for shelter?" Grace asks. Walking alongside Rojan. You lag behind, at the tail end of the group just behind the man who was looking at magazines instead of finding food. He turns and glances at you. Sizing you up. Both you and Grace have made it very clear you're not interested. Though there's a lack of women around and he hasn't quite given up yet.

He slows his pace to walk beside you. Hands shoved into the pockets of his jacket. It makes you sweat just looking at him.

"We might have to sleep outside tonight." He says. You wish he wouldn't talk to you.

"No we won't." You reply with disinterest. "Rojan would never make us camp outside." It's just simply too dangerous.

"Well," He starts. "If we do you and I could share a spot to keep warm."

You roll your eyes. It gets absurdly cold at night but even then, you'd rather kiss a rotter than cuddle up to him. "Pass, Arthur." 

Arthur doesn't seem perturbed by your prickly nature.

"It's not like you'd lose anything by being with me for a night." He argues. Up ahead, Grace and Rojan are deep in conversation, heads close together. You wish you could join them instead of being stuck with Arthur.

"I'm a lesbian." You grit out. Even if you weren't, you still wouldn't touch Arthur.

He pauses and you start relaxing, assuming he's going to back off. "Why does that matter?" He asks. "I'm not asking for a relationship; you don't have to be attracted to me to sleep with me."

"Arthur!" Grace barks, turning her head to scowl at him. He looks up at her. "Cut that shit out, she's not interested. I'm not interested, nobody here is interested."

Arthur considers her and moves away from you silently. You give Grace a thankful nod.

Night begins to fall. Your legs ache with each step as you walk, the bag on your back feels like it gained ten extra pounds. Finally, Rojan slows to a stop outside of a small house. The windows have been broken but boards fill in the empty space. The screen door swings in the slight wind, creaking as it does. Weeds and tall grass have dominated the small front yard and somewhere hidden within, flies buzz loudly. Congregating over something dead.

"We'll stay here for the night." Rojan says. He looks at each of you. Pointing at you and Arthur. "Help me make sure it's clear." 

You slowly creep inside. The interior is just as rundown as the outside. A dank, musty smell coats the damp-stained walls and fungus pops up from dark corners. You walk by the living room and startle. In the corner, facing the wall is a rotter. It's back turned to you. The skin is flayed and painful looking. Deep gashes litter it's skin. It's stationary. Unmoving apart from a slight sway. 

You don't know if you should risk making noise shooting it. You look to the front of you as Rojan disappears around the corner. You frown and look back at the rotter. A bullet would be loud and might wake and draw any dormant rotters in the area. You slowly holster your gun and unsheathe your hunting knife. Approaching the rotter like a predator. Remembering what Rojan taught you. Sweep out the legs - which won't be hard considering how emaciated they look - and quickly stab into the temple. You take another step, and the floor loudly creaks under your weight. You and the rotter both go still. The lax swaying coming to an abrupt halt.

You wait, heart beating in your ears. The seconds feel long but the rotter never turns, and you resume your creeping. You come right up behind it and recoil at the smell. Unwashed body mixed with overripe fruit, sickly and decaying. You shake your head and build up your courage. Finally, you kick out it's legs and ignore the very human grunt. Grabbing one side of it's head, you stab your knife into the soft spot in it's temple, cutting of the beginning of a shrill squeal. It drops, becoming dead weight in your arms. You lower it to the grown and let it drop.

The small home is cleared just in time for the sun to begin setting. The group sits in the living room. Silent and eating. Even Arthur is keeping his mouth shut. As the sky darkens, the sound of shuffling gets louder. The rotters have awoken. A few of them call out eerie pleas for help. That's what disturbs you the most; the mimicking. Back at the start you had mistakenly opened your door, assuming the woman crying for help on the other side was human. She wasn't. You had been tackled to the floor trying to fight her off. A lucky shove sent her flying into the table, snapping her neck and stunning her enough for you to bash her head in. You don't respond to calls for help anymore.

You have first watch. Your eyes droop and you fight hard to keep them open. Grace's soft snoring does nothing to help you. You're leaning against the wall. Your name gets called, startling you awake. Your heart throbs in your chest as you listen, ears ringing from the silence. Were you hallucinating? It doesn't come again. A few footsteps sound close to the boarded-up window. Maybe one of the rotters said something that sounded like your name. That's what you decide but it freaks you out enough to keep you awake.

Your group moves on promptly at sunrise. Most of the rotters having hidden themselves in shadows and buildings to hibernate for the day. It's another scorcher. Sweat wets your brow as you walk, legs aching from fatigue. Your tired stumbling reminds you of the rotters.

"Water." Arthur says. Rojan reaches into the side of his pack for the communal water bottle without stopping and holds it out behind him. Arhtur takes it and you watch him carefully from the corner of your eye to make sure he isn't taking too much. Water is a valuable commodity. Getting drinkable water is a hassle. If you can't find any bottled water stashed somewhere, you have to boil some from rivers. You lag behind a little. Overheating and exhausted from having to stay up all night.

You halt as you hear movement beside you. Your group progresses on, leaving you behind as you stare into the shadowy alley. Not a brick is out of place. You hurry your steps and catch up with your group. You're just tired and paranoid.

You sit with your back to your front door as Valeria pounds on it. Shaking the weak wood with every hit.

"Open the fucking door!" She yells. You put your head down and cover your ears, every single limb fizzling with nervous energy. You and Valeria have had a... tumultuous relationship. On and off, fighting, making up. You finally called it off for good and denied her when she tried to win you back. Valeria's never been able to leave you alone though.

She hits the door again.

"Please, mi vida, open the door." Her voice softens. It's forced. 

"Go away, Valeria!" You yell back, worried she'll break down the door. You don't know what she'll do if she makes it inside and that scares you.

"For fuck's sake!" She snarls, dropping the nice act. "I'm going to fucking kill you if you don't open this door!"

You shut your eyes and count. Trying to calm yourself down.

The faded red door and empty flowerpots are uncomfortably familiar. You feel an overwhelming sense of foreboding. Unfortunately for you, Rojan deems it suitable. He and Grace clear it and you and Arthur enter once they confirm it's empty. You cast a glance at the decayed woman on the floor, head mashed to a pulp. You're disturbed to find chunks missing from her. The other's congregate in the living room but you wander down the hall and take a left. Pushing open the closed door. The bedroom is full of dirt and dust. The curtains nothing but moth-eaten tatters now. You wander to the nightstand and lower yourself down to your knees, the carpet damp and spongy. You reach under and pull out a box, running your fingers over the gold trim. Clearing dust off the lid. You open it and pull things out. Birthday cards, baby teeth. Polaroids. You and Valeria smile up from the picture tauntingly. She has a firm grip on your waist, keeping you pressed against her.

Flowers get shoved in your face, startling you out of your skin. You stare at Valeria like a deer in headlights. Behind her lurks two dangerous looking men. Protection or intimidation? You can guess which.

"I'm sorry." Valeria murmurs, forcing you to take the flowers. "I know you're upset but I also know you're not done with me. Just stop with this little angry act and take me back."

"What? No." You frown. "Valeria, we are not good together."

Valeria ignores your words and grabs your arms gently. "I love you." She says, looking at you intensely. "I love you so much that it makes me sick. It makes me angry. You did this to me, and I wouldn't have it any other way. We are it for each other, why can't you understand that?"

You put the picture back down and hide it under a few others. Ones without Valeria in them. It's all history and at the end of the world, history means nothing. You join the others as they finish up their meal of canned sausage. You don't ask for any, no longer having an appetite. You're still exhausted though. Settling yourself on your couch. It's filthy but you still gleam a small sense of comfort from it. It doesn't take you long to drift off. Lulled by the quiet chattering of your companions.

You aren't sure what woke you first. The shattering of glass, or Grace's panicked curse. Nobody remains a heavy sleeper when there's a constant threat outside. The whole group is startled awake. It doesn't take long for the rushed steps of the rotters to be heard. You freeze. Watching as Grace shoots one but gets tackled by another. Filthy teeth sink into her throat. Both Arthur and Rojan aim and take down a few. One of the rotters slinks in-between them and heads right towards you. You're horrified to see Valeria's face glaring back at you. She barrels right into you, crushing you under her weight and pinning you down to the couch. You feel bile stinging your throat.

You slam into the floor as Valeria slams the door shut in your face. Your body is already on overdrive and in your adrenaline induced haze you decide Valeria did that on purpose. It doesn't help that she immediately crowds you. Her warm hands latching onto you, her smell overwhelming you.

"Get off!" You hiss, kicking at her.

"I'm sorry." She growls. Maneuvering you onto your back. You can't move, you can't leave. You're trapped in this stressful situation. A claustrophobic panic kicks in. "I didn't mean to hurt you, but you can't run out every time you argue - stop struggling!" Valeria says with anger.

"You're hurting me right now!" You try to wrench yourself away from her but only end up pulling a muscle.

"You cannot leave me." She replies, sounding hurt and desperate. Her tone scares you more than anything. "I'm sorry, just stop struggling and we can talk, please."

The sound of flesh tearing is seared into your memory. The screaming stopped after only a few seconds, but you think you'll remember it for the rest of your left. Valeria keeps you crushed under her firmly. The reek of decay permeates through the air. It's so thick you worry you'll get infected just breathing in. Through a gap in her limbs, you watch the rotters in a frenzy. Ripping your group apart like animals. Something cold caresses the side of your neck, startling you. It's Valeria running her fingers along your neck. She says your name. Voice distorted and growly. It sounds like it hurts to speak.

A salty tear rolls down your cheek as you stare blankly at the massacre. Grace's head bobs slightly as a rotter feeds on her intestines. Her eyes stare back at you lifelessly.

The wood trembles.

"Open the fucking door!"

You raise your head from your hands and look at the wall, you don't know what to do. The pounding stops. Valeria's voice is muffled but clearly aggressive as she speaks to someone.

"You're sick." She exclaims, disgusted... and afraid. "Fuck. Open the door." She repeats. Valeria doesn't sound angry anymore, she sounds urgent. "Open the door, someone sick is staring me down, open the door now." 

You've never heard her sound frightened before. This disease is frightening though. You haven't seen one of the sick in person before but just the symptoms were enough to scare you.

A bite or bodily fluid was all it took. Doctors said incubation was from anywhere between an hour to three days. It started with a fever, intense mood swings, violent behavior, thirst and hunger. Sores sprouted up on the body. Eventually they would pustulate and then rot. Then the virus made it's way through the brainstem and effectively killed the frontal lobe while triggering the amygdala. Turning the host into an animal. Valeria calls your name.

"Please open this door, I know you're mad at me, but you can't leave me out here with that thing." 

You're very tempted to open the door but you can't move. You're frozen to the spot.

"Get back!" Valeria snaps. Startling you. "Take another step and I'll shoot you."

The infected care not for the threat of a gun. Shots are fired, loud and earsplitting. Something hard thumps to the ground and Valeria screams.

You feel sick.

"I know you're mad at me, please open this door." She whispers into your hair. Every second you wait for her to bite. To tear into your vulnerable flesh, but she doesn't. "I didn't mean to hurt you, please open this door." Valeria brushes her face against your cheek. Something wet transferring onto yours. "I'm sorry, it makes me sick. I love you." Valeria tightens her grip on you. Shielding you from the horror in the living room. After being infected and dying she tracked you down. She got rid of the only people you had left. There is nowhere you could hide that she wouldn't find you. Dead or alive, she's yours.

[foptbw]

Can we ask cosmo and Wanda why they are avoiding Timmy?

Timmy: I drew this comic of what happened to me! Someone here suggested I try giving cookies to the neighbors so I made some. But the moment the pink neighbor saw me coming she grabbed Hazel's hand pointed me out to the green neighbor and they rushed around a corner. When I followed them they were gone, and it was just Hazel, but she had popits on her I hadn't noticed. I didnt know what popits were until I talked to her a bit. She explained to me that the neighbors had to go. I reassure her I knew they were avoiding me and it was okay. I decided to let her have the cookies. We actually talked, she liked my hair. I explained how it makes me feel more me. She told me how when she got older she might dye her hair purple. She asked me about my wings and crown and I explained to her they make me feel more comfy. I decided not to tell her how it makes me feel more connected to my real family cuz yah. She asked me to wait a moment and she went away a bit turning away from me. She was whispering something. I thought I heard the word wish. And she came back with a keychain butterfly popit. It was green pink and purple. And perfect. She wanted to give it to me as a thank you for the cookies and to cheer me up cuz she could see the neighbors' behavior made me sad. She's a nice girl. She explained how it was a fidget toy. It was actually really nice and perfect for me. When she left I could hear talking. Hazel had asked why what had to be the odd neighbors why they were avoiding me and that I dont seem that bad. I could hear male crying. And the pink female neighbor's voice answering Hazel. Explaining to her that they weren't allowed to interact with people like me. She sounded so sad. I don't think the neighbors hate me at all! They aren't allowed to interact with me! It's not me! I couldn't hear any more of the conversation, but it's clear by what they said. They don't hate me. You don't get sad and make cry-y sounds about not being able to interact with someone you don't like! The Wells girl, Hazel she's kind. I didn't like her because the neighbors hung out with her and I thought maybe its because she is cuter than me and normal. And I was jealous that she has a loving family and the odd neighbors liked her. But, she was nice to me and gave me something very nice. She questioned the neighbors why they were avoiding me. And didn't make any mean comments about how I looked or anything even though sometimes kids like to mock and make fun of me for being weird for a grown up! OOC: Technically right now Cosmo and Wanda are not open for asks (neither is Hazel) but I decided to answer this question in a fun way. Sorry if I haven't gotten to your questions yet (Specifically to the person whose been waiting the longest on the Fairy Takeover ask I promise you I will respond to it, but honestly this ask has SUCH A BIG thing happen in the AU that I have to wait to post it, since it will effect ALL asks after it timeline wise.)

[reneesghostinthelivingroom]

How about a Regina George x fem reader (I'm not a writer just a reader lol, the best I can do is song lyrics so I'm sorry if this idea has been taken or sucks)

Rivalry Turned Romance:

Your character and Regina are rivals in some way.

Initially, their interactions are filled with snarky remarks and subtle sabotage as they try to outdo each other. However, beneath the rivalry, there's a mutual respect and fascination.

As they spend more time together, they start to appreciate each other's strengths and vulnerabilities. Their competitive banter gradually turns into playful flirting, and they realize there's more to their relationship than just rivalry.

Rivalry Lights the Spark for Romance

|| Regina George x fem!reader

|| Warnings; swearing, brief mentions of getting drunk, reader and regina rivalry, enemies to friends and lovers mention, long fic

|| Summary; reader and regina never got along. Like, ever. It would be a cold day in hell if they did. There was always something for the girls to argue over... until there wasn't.

Requests open!

Started; September 17th

Finished; September 17th

~~~

Regina George. The two of you were in a stare down from across the cafeteria. You sat with your group of friends, she sat with hers. Regina and you have had a long standing rivalry that dates back to sixth grade. When Regina stopped being human. Your friend group and hers used to be one big group that hung out together all the time. Then the Janis incident happened and you and your friends sided with Janis.

You, Prudence Ollia, Savie Lane and Nyla Caves were deemed 'weirdos' for doing so. While Regina, Gretchen and Karen grew in popularity. Janis was left on the side lines. You and her haven't hung out at all in the more recent years. Since highschool you've just lost touch with each other.

Which brings us back to present day.

"So. What's our next sabotage plan for Lilith over there?" Prudence asked. Lilith was the code name which your group had made for Regina when you talked about her in public and didn't want others to know.

You didn't take your eyes off Regina. It was like the two of you were in some game of chicken. First one to look away loses," huh?" You asked, not really paying attention.

"Next sabotage plan." Prudence simplified.

"Oh!" Savie grinned as she slammed her hands on the side of the table, looking at the three of you with mischief in her eyes," we replace her shampoo with hairdye. Give her green hair."

"Classic." Nyla nodded with a laugh," but none of us would even be able to step foot in Regina's house."

"Actually, I'm pretty certain her mom still thinks Lilith and I are absolute besties. Maybe I could give it a try, make an excuse like she left something in her room for me to pick up or whatever. Lilith's mom probably wouldn't even think to ask for details." You stated, eyes still on the blonde. You swear she hasn't even blinked once this whole stare down.

"I'll buy the hair dye," Savie did an excited clap. She was usually the most hyped up when it came to the sabotage plans.

That night, you did exactly what you had said you would. Luckily Ms George did think the two of you were still friends and Regina happened to be out at a party. So you were able to pull things off pretty smoothly.

The following day, Regina George showed up to school with bright lime green hair. But instead of laughing, people were in awe. And lime green hair was a trend over the next couple weeks.

Regina remained unaffected, which annoyed you to no end. How does everything you do just boost her popularity? It was infuriating. Though you couldn't help but respect her just a little. Only a little.

She walked by your locker as you were grabbing your trumpet out for music class," What? Too cool for green hair, L/N?" She smirked at you when she noticed you hadn't dyed yours to follow the trend. That technically you started.

"Shouldn't you be off trying to steal Christmas, Grinch?" You replied, trumpet case by your side.

Her eyes widened just slightly in annoyance and she snatched your case from you, flicking it open and taking the mouth piece. She handed your trumpet back," good luck in music, loser." Regina winked at you as she walked away. Mouth piece in her fist.

You sighed deeply. Honestly surprised she even recognized that piece was important. You didn't think Regina knew anything about music. Though the only grievance her act actually caused you was a lecture from the music teacher about not "losing" pieces to your instrument.

So it didn't bother you all that much. Which annoyed Regina, but she had a small respect for it. But it was only small.

Things like this would continue to happen between the two of you throughout the rest of the year. Each of you gaining a little bit more respect for the other.

One day, a few weeks before the Christmas talent show, Regina passed by your locker and gave you her signature smirk.

"Hey, L/N. Signing up for the talent show?" She asked, clearly she wasn't really interested. However, unless you were seeing incorrectly, her eyes scanned your body. It was quick and easy to miss if you didn't happen to be looking in her eyes when it happened- what? Pfft, no you weren't staring into Regina's eyes. You hated her.

"Yeah, actually. You still doing that tradition of yours?" You replied, arms folded across your chest as you leaned against your locker.

Regina scoffed, folding her own arms," obviously. Bet it's better than whatever you're doing."

"Playing the trumpet without a mouth piece. You know, when you stole it it gave me the idea to actually give it a try. Kinda fun," You grinned at her. Yes you did it specifically so you could rub it in her face that you were unbothered.

You saw her eye twitch ," whatever, loser."

Christmas was nearing, the talent show was here. You were on before the plastics and Mr Duvall called your name to the stage.

You walked on and took a seat, trumpet held in front of you. You took a breath and got ready to play. Only no sound came out when you tried.

"What?" You muttered to yourself and turned your trumpet around, looking down into it. Apparently someone had stuffed it with pink slime. Not the runny kind, but the kind that looks more like rubber. You rolled your eyes. You didn't need the pink to tell you who had done this," Just a moment."

You got up and took the slime out as you headed back stage, looking for Regina. When you found her; her and her crew were laughing. Presumably at you. They hadn't noticed you approach, so you took your chance.

You threw the slime directly at Regina, it slapped her in the face and landed in her hair. Getting stuck. She screamed and her eyes snapped to your direction.

"Oh you're so dead!" She immediately walked towards you, you stood your ground even after getting a solid bitch slap from the blonde.

The two of you were now in a full on brawl, you knocked Regina to the ground but she pinned you there. The both of you wrestled each other.

Gretchen and Karen shared a look while Cady encouraged it. Being the fake she is.

It didn't take long for Ms Norbury to find you and Regina and separate the both of you.

"She attacked me!" Regina yelled.

"You punched first!" You yelled back.

Ms Norbury sighed deeply," I don't care who started it, ladies. You are both just as involved as the other." Her eyes landed on the slime in Regina's hair," Regina, go get cleaned up. Y/N Mr Duvall's office. Regina you'll meet her there. You have ten minutes before I come get you to make sure you go."

"Ugh. This is so fucking stupid," Regina muttered.

"You're fucking stupid," You muttered right back as you both walked out. Narrowing your eyes at each other.

Soon enough, the both of you are in Mr Duvall's office. Just waiting for the talent show to be over as Ms Norbury waited with you. Keeping an eye on you both in case another fight started.

When Mr Duvall finally joined you, he looked... more disappointed than anything. Or maybe he was just tired.

"How many times must we do this?" He asked. This was not the first time you and Regina had been in his office together.

You and Regina gave each other a side eye.

"It put slime in my trumpet," You pointed to Regina.

"'It'?!" She looked ready to fight you again.

"Girls! Please." Duvall sighed and leaned forward, arms rested on his desk." Both of you are in the wrong. Both of you are being punished. You'll have detention with each other for the rest of this week and next. And you'll be given tasks from the janitor. Maybe if you work together on it... you'll at least tolerate each other more and I won't get so many headaches."

You did not tolerate each other more.

At least, not at first. The first few clean up tasks were absolutely hell.

That was until the janitor trusted you and Regina with floor cleaning machine. (i wish it had a better name but i could not find anything. they're those zamboni things. i'm just gonna call it a zamboni 😭)

You don't know how you earned his trust to use this but you did. School was out for the day and you and Regina had to stay behind, the janitor left already. Leaving the two of you to work alone with this.

You glanced at Regina and grinned. "Bumper cars?"

Regina raised an eyebrow," you're so stupid."

"Come on! You know you want to~!"

"Absolutely not." She folded your arms and started walking away.

You got an even better idea." Slip and slide?"

That got her to pause and consider it. She looked back at you," if it will get you to shut up."

"Definitely." It wouldn't.

You and Regina worked together to get the floor of a hall cleaned up with the cleaning zambonis. Once it was done, you took a running start from around the corner then sprinted down the hall. Sliding the whole way down and trying to stay on your feet. You did not. You landed on your ass about half way down.

Regina laughed as she watched you and thought 'screw it' as she did the same thing. She made it about the same length as you, then fell on her front with a thud.

The two of you laid on the floor and laughing, looking at each other with smiles on your faces. Maybe Regina George wasn't so bad. What you didn't know is that Regina was starting to think the same about you.

"Hey. Wanna ditch this and go get bobas?" You asked, you doubted she would even agree.

Regina seemed to hesitate for a moment before she got off the floor," yeah, sure. But you're paying."

"Aw, whattt? You're like a billionaire." You stood and followed her out of the school.

"So?"

You rolled your eyes but smiled. The halls didn't get cleaned that night, but it seems Mr Duvall's strategy worked a little better than he thought it would.

The two of you rekindled your friendship, you still annoyed each other to no end but on a less... chaotic scale. It was more controlled and less sabotages.

And later it even became more as you and Regina had a very intense drunk make out session.

[obeymeshallwedateaddict]

The love letter

So recently I found these love letters I've written from each brother towards MC and they are absolutely adorable! I completely forgot about them tbh. Turns out I've written them about a year ago but here they are.. Enjoy!

You can find more of my work here: Masterlist

............................................................................

Lucifer

Hello, MC. It's me, Lucifer. And before you start wondering why I've written to you and begin questioning your past mischiefs, know that I'm not writing to you to scold you. This isn't an official written demand either. Though think about it? What if it was a demand? An official written demand for you to come to my office and sit beside me while I work when I'm covered in endless piles of paperwork. Or and official written demand for you to spend more time with me because the time apart has been getting to me and I feel anxious without you. It's needless to say that I need you. So take this as an official written demand for you to love me more. Me and me alone. Love me the way I love you. I want to occupy your heart just like you've been occupying mine. When did you even put this spell upon me I wonder? Nevertheless, come to my room. I want to show you the love I'm capable of, darling.

-Your dear Avatar of Pride, Lucifer.

Mammon

Hey there, MC it's me The Great Mammon! Of course you know it's me duh! So there has been somethin' I've been meanin' to tell ya ...How do people say this damn? So as ya might have already noticed I've been actin' little weird and been blushing quite more frequently (< I searched that word up to be sure) around you . I don't even know if I'm myself anymore. And the worst thing is that I'm thinking about you more than makin' money! But it's not like I'm in love with you nah deffo not! ... Ok fine! I-I am in l-love with ya! Ya happy? Guess I do love you more than money huh? I'm crazy 'bout ya, MC. Head over heels in love. More than I've been with anyone else. ... Well yeah that's it. All right that's done, time to get some money! Ya know me! See ya, baby!

-your Great Mammon <3

Leviathan

Hi, MC it's me Levi. How are you doing? Wanna play something? Or even maybe hang out for a bit? We could talk or s-snuggle up together while watching your favourite anime. Anything you would like it would be my pleasure to do! ... Uhh it's like recently I've been craving to hang out with you and get to know you as well as constantly play games with you. It's like a certain urge of doing so. Could it be something similar to the connection between Henry and the lord of Shadow in The Tale of the Seven Lords? But they are just close friends. Something like ... I believe they call it "partners in crime". But what I feel for you is quite different. Maybe something like the relationship between Ruri-chan and her lover. Yes differently something like that. But that puts it as if I've fallen for you. Could it be? C-Could I b-be in l-l-love with you? And if I am, does that still make me an otaku? Answer this for me Ok? See you... Love?

-Your player number 1, Levi <3

Satan

Hi, MC. You know... it's been quite some time since we last hung out together. Wanna come read with me in the library or stop at this new cat café? I could pet your head and stroke your hair like the little kitten you are to me. I could read you endless stories of fortune and love as well as spoil you until every single desire of yours is fulfilled. Let me help you indulge in a world of fantasy and passion, showing you every side of myself that you haven't seen. Every emotion I feel when I am lost in your eyes or hidden within your embrace. A world of true ecstasy and love I know you've been craving to see. Let me take you to the unbelievable debts of my heart which is spoiled from the love that's been sitting there long enough. And now that love has a name. "MC". I love you, kitten.

-your wrath-cat, Satan

Asmodeus

Hey hey heyyyyy, MC!!! Yesterday I bought a new nail polish and I'm sure it will look absolutelyyyy adorableee on you!!! Let's try it out together, m'kay? We can match! Oh just imagine the look on Mammon's face when he sees us matching! He will pull up that pouty face that I so love! Anywayyyssss.. afterwards we can take a bath together with your favourite bath salts! Let's look fabulous together, MC! Though you may not manage to look more beautiful than me but you can always be second! Actually... MC, in my heart you are the first. People may be all over me and I do show love to each of them but the most sincere love I feel is for you. I love you, my adorable, fluffy, little sheep! And this love is a lot different than the love for my followers. I love you as my partner. So what do you say to the offer? You become my partner and I become only yours? Sufficient enough? Bye bye, hon!

-Yours truly, Asmo <3

Beelzebub

Hello, MC. Are you hungry? Let's go to Hell's kitchen. Me and Belphie were planning on going to eat Devil sandwiches there but he fell asleep. Though I was going to invite you to come with us anyway I'd love to go with you alone. We could make it a lunch date at Hell's kitchen. But MC, you need to know that as hungry as I have been recently food has not been enough. Well it has never been enough but I feel even more hungry. Hungry... Hmm though am I hungry for food? Or maybe I'm hungry for your love and affection. And this hunger is stronger than the regular one, MC. Sometimes I wonder if it's even a hunger or a need for you. And it never goes away. The only time it subsides is when I'm with you. Which indicates that we have to spend more time together to fulfil my hunger. Will you stay with me, MC? Let's meet up in the kitchen so I could show you the depths of my hunger. I love you, muffin.

-Your cinnamon roll glutton, Beel

Belphegor

MC, hi. How have you been doing? Beel mentioned that when he was going to the kitchen yesterday for his midnight snack he heard you, Mammon and Levi playing games together. My point is... MC do you sleep enough? I can't imagine a world without sleep. If it was forbidden to sleep I would gladly go and die. But... That was before. Now.. I feel like if sleep was really forbidden I could manage with you around. You've made a change in me, MC. I can't say I don't like it though. I feel more productive even if I take constant naps. You make me feel this way. It's like.. I feel loved. Though it's a different kind of love than what my brothers and I share. It's more.. passionate. It's more deep. It's constantly making me tired but when I go to bed I can't fall asleep if I don't hear your voice or feel you cuddled up against me. So let me say this: I love you. Will you be my body pillow next time, my cuddle bug-... Zzz..

-Your sleepy boy, Belphie. Zzz

[loulovingho]

The Gables

Part 3 of my meeting the parents series. one more to go! all can be read individually, but they're better together. Start from the beginning here. Read part 3 below, or on ao3. tags are all on ao3.

It was about a three hour drive to Tommy's parents place in Hanford. It was south of Fresno, which Buck had been to a few times over the years, but he'd never paid attention to Hanford.

“It's relatively small,” Tommy had told him. “Most people don't notice it.”

It had been a week since Tommy had gotten the call from his mom. It was short, just under five minutes. If Buck was honest, not much was even said during those minutes, but when Tommy hung up he took a deep breath and asked Evan if he'd like to go for a day visit.

“I haven't been home in a year,” he'd said, “and mom needs help with a couple things.”

Tommy almost looked like he was about to be sick. His skin paled and there seemed to be a light sheen of sweat on his forehead. Against everything screaming in his mind, Buck didn't ask questions right then. He simply responded with a yes, that he'd be happy to come along, and left it at that.

Tommy didn't talk about his parents often. He'd mentioned that his dad was a lot like Gerrard, said his mom wasn't really the hugging type, but hadn't really divulged anything beyond that.

Buck could get him to open up about nearly everything in his life, even the uncomfortable stuff from his past that he still beat himself up over on occasion, but when it came to his parents and the life he had with them... there was a whole lot of nothing.

“Anything I should know before we get there?” Buck asked. He'd asked the question a couple of times over the past week, always getting the same answer.

“Uh, no. No, I don't think so.”

“Come on, Tommy, I gave you an entire presentation on the Buckley's before you met my parents. It's good to be prepared.”

Tommy let out an exasperated sigh. “I'm not sure there's a way to be prepared for the Kinard's, Evan. You can't really predict them.”

“Okay, so unpredictable. See, I can work with that.”

Buck's earnestness elicited a smile from Tommy. It was a good sight to see, seeing as he'd been pretty tense since they went to bed last night. He reached over and took Evan's hand, resting them over the center console. “I'm not trying to make it hard on you,” he said, “I promise. I just... I don't really know them all that well either. They're hard to describe. It's been a year, and the last time I was home it ended in my dad getting nearly blackout drunk and my mom throwing a frying pan at his head. She missed,” he reassured Evan, who was not very reassured, “but still, she tried. It was weird though, because the time before that, they were “so in love” and “couldn't be without each other”, which I had also never seen growing up. That's, you know, what I mean by unpredictable.”

Buck nodded, feeling a bit in over his head. “I see.”

“You'll be fine though,” he said, giving Buck's hand a squeeze. “It'll... It'll be fine.”

Buck wondered if Tommy knew just how unsure he sounded right now. It made the knots in Buck's stomach get even tighter.

*****

They drove for a little while after getting off the highway, turned down random street after street until Tommy turned into a neighborhood with a broken gate. 'The Gables Trailer Park' a sign read. The further they drove into The Gables, the more potholes filled the road, causing a fairly bumpy ride.

Trailers were spread out along the open, flat terrain. Some had grass around their homes, others dirt and rocks.

“Is this where you grew up?” Buck asked. He wasn't sure if he was headed to Tommy's childhood home, or a place his parents had moved after he left.

“Yeah, from about eight up. Before that we lived in an apartment in Fresno, but my dad's dad lived here. When he died, he left the place to dad, and it was cheaper than the apartment so we moved.”

They drove for about half a mile until Tommy pulled off the road in front of a trailer. It was an ivory color with brown trim. Looked like it hadn't been painted in quite a few years. There were panels covering parts of the lower half of the trailer, but gaps made it so you could still see underneath. This particular trailer wasn't set on grass, but on what was currently some muddy dirt thanks to the surprise rain storm they'd had the night before.

There was a blue tarp over part of the roof. A sign on the right side of the door informed that trespassers would be shot, while a sign on the left side told them to beware of dog.

“They don't have a dog,” Tommy said, apparently reading Buck's mind. “And dad had to give up his guns like five years ago. Ready?”

Tommy opened his door and got out before Buck had the chance to ask the nearly fifty questions that were popping into his mind. First on the list was asking why his dad had to give up his guns? He'd have to remember that question for later.

He took a deep breath and got out of the truck, straightening out his jacket before he shut the door behind him.

Tommy waited for Buck at the front of the truck, holding out his hand as Buck stepped closer to him. “It'll be fine,” Tommy said, pulling Buck close. “Just remember, no matter what, we're leaving by five.”

When they got to the front door, Tommy knocked twice, then let go of Buck's hand while they waited.

“Sometimes they don't hear the first knock,” he said after a few seconds, then knocked again.

“I'm coming, I'm coming!” A woman yelled, swinging the door open. “I'm old, you gotta give me more time.”

“Hi, Mom,” Tommy greeted. Her eyes moved quickly from him to Buck, who gave her a smile.

“You brought someone.” She sounded unimpressed.

“This is Evan Buckley, Mom. He goes by Buck. Evan, this is my mom, Alice.”

“Nice to meet you, Mrs. Kinard.” Buck held his hand out for a shake. She hesitated, wiped her hand off with the hand towel she was holding, then shook.

“Buck,” she replied simply.

She was a small woman, no more than 5'2. Her white hair was pulled back in a bun, and she didn't seem to wear makeup the way Buck's mom did. She wore a red t-shirt and blue jeans, socks but no shoes, and no smile anywhere in sight.

“Well, come in,” she said, waving the hand towel in their direction. “Don't want the flies coming in.”

The second Buck walked in his nose began to burn. The place reeked of cigarettes, with a faint scent of beer that lingered in the air.

“I got a list of things I need you to do while you're here today,” she said, shutting the door behind them. “Your friend can help if you need him to. Go say hello to your dad while I get the list from the kitchen.”

The living room was to the right, and when Buck looked over he could see a man sitting in a recliner, facing away from them, watching TV.

Tommy sucked in a deep breath before heading over to him, Buck following a couple steps behind.

“Dad,” he started.

His dad turned away from the TV long enough to give both he and Buck a glance, then turned back. “Didn't know we'd have company today.”

“Mom didn't tell you I was coming?”

“She told me you were coming.”

Tommy rubbed anxiously at the back of his neck. Buck wanted nothing more than to reach out and touch him, hold his hand, stroke his back, press a reassuring kiss to his shoulder. He knew none of those things were good options at the moment.

“Right. Um, Dad, this is Buck. Buck, this is Frank.”

“Hello, Mr. Kinard. Nice to meet you.” He didn't try to shake his hand. Frank was too focused on whatever show he was watching.

“Mm,” he grunted. “Tommy, get me another beer while you're up.”

Tommy brought his hand to Buck's elbow, “You can sit if you want,” he said quietly. “I'll be right back.”

Buck nodded, walked over to the couch and sat.

He looked around, taking the place in. Almost everything inside looked like it came out of the 80's. A floral sofa, grayed in the places it used to be white. A brown recliner that Frank sat in. The TV had an antenna, and there was an old stereo in the corner. None of the furniture matched, and magazines and newspapers sat on top of most of the flat surfaces.

Buck spared an extra look or two at Frank, trying to find any resemblance between him and Tommy. He couldn't.

Frank had leathery skin, with salt and pepper hair. His wasn't curly the way Tommy's was when he didn't have any product in it. There were no laughter lines on his face, which was on Buck's favorite things about Tommy. He wore a white shirt that fit tight over his beer belly, and stretchy shorts with bleach stains. He hadn't shaved in a few days, and his short beard came in patchy. He seemed tall, but not quite 6'2.

The sound of Frank's voice brought Buck out of his thoughts.

“I'm sorry, Sir, what was that?” he asked, noticing that Frank was looking in his direction.

Buck had gone over a list of potential questions in his head, and the way he'd answer them.

“We met on a rescue mission. We've been together nearly a year now. I moved in just after Christmas. I know some would think it's too fast, but when you know you know. You've raised a great man.”

There was not a single part of him that ever anticipated the question he got instead.

“So, which one's the boy and which one's the girl?”

Buck stared at him, dumbfounded. “I- um, there's-”

“Don't know how many times I gotta say it, Dad,” Tommy said, walking back into the room with a beer in hand, “there is no girl. That'd kinda ruin the whole being gay thing for me.”

Frank grabbed the beer from Tommy, leaned over and popped the cap off on the side table. “Sure would make it a lot better for me.”

Tommy went to open his mouth, but Alice cut him off. “Come get the list!” she called from the kitchen. “Need to get started so you're done by this evening.”

*****

They didn't talk about Frank or Alice while Buck helped Tommy fix the bathroom sink. He just handed him the tools whenever Tommy asked.

Nothing was mentioned while they changed lightbulbs, or rehung a picture in the main bedroom, or moved a piece of furniture out of the house and onto the side of the road for trash pickup. They both stayed relatively silent until they headed into the spare bedroom for Tommy to fix the fan.

“Was this your room?” Buck asked, looking around for signs of young Tommy.

There didn't seem to be any.

“It was,” Tommy replied.

There was an old bed in the room with a brown and yellow quilt on top. An oak dresser in the corner with newspapers poking out of the drawers. The closet door was ajar, the inside so filled with boxes that it couldn't shut all the way. The paint was chipping from the walls, and there was a dampness in the air from a window that was left open about an inch.

“Is anything in here yours?” Buck asked as Tommy stood on the bed to get started on the fan.

“Um,” he glanced around, spotting a cowboy hat on a chair in the corner. “That hat was mine,” he said. “I used to pretend I was a cowboy when I was little.”

Buck smiled at the thought. He went over and picked up the hat. He tried to imagine a little Tommy running around, faking a country accent with a worn red and black cowboy hat.

“I need to get you one of these for home,” Buck said. “Maybe some boots, a western shirt, chaps.”

“Oh God,” Tommy shuddered. “That sounds like quite possibly the worst role-play of all time.”

Buck tilted his head, eying Tommy up and down, imagining. “I don't know, sounds pretty good to me.”

“I can't even see you right now, but I know you're looking at me like that, and it's making it very difficult for me to concentrate.”

Buck laughed. “Okay, okay. What do you need me to do?”

“I need you to stand there and look pretty, but not too pretty.”

“So, you don't really need my help?”

Tommy stopped messing with the fan to smile down at him. “I always need your help, Evan.”

Buck rolled his eyes. “That's a no then. I think I'll go see if your mom needs any help.”

Tommy raised an eyebrow. “You sure?”

He patted Tommy's shin before heading for the door. “I'm sure I'll survive, Cowboy,” he said, earning a snort from Tommy.

*****

While Tommy continued with the fan, Buck made his way toward the kitchen where Alice was fixing a late lunch.

“Mrs. Kinard, is there anything I can help you with?”

She sighed, like he was disturbing her peace. “You know how to chop lettuce?”

“Yes, Ma'am.”

She grabbed a head of iceberg lettuce and plopped it down on the kitchen table with a knife and a bowl. “Frank doesn't know how to do anything in the kitchen,” she said, motioning for him to sit and get to it. “At least he pretends he doesn't. Been pretending for forty-eight years.”

“You two have been together a long time. You're lucky.”

She snorted. “Don't know if I'd say that. But, we're lifers.”

Buck chopped the lettuce carefully, as though he were going to get graded on his ability. He wanted it to look perfect.

“Can I ask you a question about Tommy?” Buck asked.

“You can try,” she replied. “Not sure I'll be able to answer.”

“I was just wondering what he was like as a kid? He's only has a couple pictures of himself when he was young, but most are from his time in the army.”

“I'm sure I've got some laying around here somewhere,” Alice answered, grabbing up some more vegetables and sitting down across from Buck. She eyed his lettuce for a moment, then set a couple tomatoes in front of him.

It felt like getting an A+ on a report card.

“Tommy was a busy kid. Always running around, getting into trouble. Never really told me much about what he was doing, but when he got caught... Well, it would've been better if he hadn't.”

Buck wanted to ask what she meant, but a part of him wasn't sure he wanted to know.

He didn't have to wonder long, Alice continuing as she chopped an onion.

“He stole fireworks from a shop when he was twelve, set them off in the woods outback. Nearly started a forest fire.” She shook her head. “Kid couldn't sit right for a week after Frank was done with him.”

Buck wasn't sure what to say to that, so he opted to move past it completely. “What about when he got older?”

“He was real quiet in high school. Didn't make friends easily. Smart though. Graduated early, but then he got bored. Running around here and there, no steady job, nothing. That's when Frank drove him to the recruiters office in Fresno. Told him he either signed up or pitched him a tent on the street somewhere. He left for basic a couple months before his eighteenth birthday.”

“He was only seventeen?” Buck asked, wide eyed. In all his army stories, Tommy had never mentioned the fact he was seventeen when he joined, and Buck himself had never thought of it as a possibility. He knew he was young, but the idea that Tommy couldn't even vote when he started his career in the military was especially baffling.

“Yup. Frank said it'd be the best thing for him. He was probably right.”

“H- He must've been scared,” Buck said quietly, mostly to himself, but Alice heard.

“Being scared's a part of life,” she replied coldly. “You overcome it, get better for it.” She gathered the onion she had been slicing and took it over to the stove, tossing them into a pan.

There was about a minute of silence before she spoke again. “You really like him, don't you?”

Buck looked up to see her watching him, probably noticing the fact that he still looked worried over everything he'd heard about young Tommy.

He was surprised by the question, but didn't hesitate in his answer. “Yes, Ma'am, I do.”

“Mm.” She turned back to her pan. “That's good, I guess. He's been alone a long time. Needs somebody.”

*****

When it came time for lunch, Buck, Tommy, and Alice ate in the kitchen while Frank opted to stay in the living room. It was a rather quiet lunch, except for when Buck complimented Alice's cooking. She sat up straighter at that, and went into a story about finding ten cookbooks on the side of the road a few weeks before she married Frank. She took them all and spent those weeks teaching herself how to follow along to with the recipes.

The conversation lasted all of five minutes, but it was better than five more minutes spent in awkward silence.

It was almost three by the time lunch was over, but the only way Buck knew that was because Tommy kept glancing at the clock on the wall. He knew what he was doing, checking to see when it was time for them to leave. He knew Tommy couldn't wait to get out of there, and Buck couldn't really blame him.

Tommy excused himself to the restroom as they began to clean up from lunch.

Alice went to go get Frank's dish, but Buck stopped her.

“I'll get it,” he offered innocently.

He didn't see her open her mouth to stop him, already making his way to Frank.

“Can I get you another beer, Mr. Kinard?” Buck asked, picking up the plate from the side table.

Instead of answering, Frank turned his head from the TV to look at Buck, staring him up and down. “Perfect waitress you are,” he grunted out. “I suppose you'll make a good woman for my boy.”

And maybe it was the long drive, or the fact he had no idea what he was walking into when he agreed to come along for this day trip, or the fact he'd been quiet about so many god-awful things that he'd heard, but Buck was at the end of his “just stay silent” rope.

He cocked his head to the side. “Excuse me?”

“There's roles in every relationship,” Frank explained poorly. “I worried about my son for a while, but it's good to know he's still the man.”

“Did you not hear him earlier? When he told you there was no woman in our relationship? He seemed pretty clear about that.”

“Eh,” Frank waved him off. “There's a natural order to things. You'll see it soon enough.”

The second Tommy walked out of the bathroom and saw Buck staring down at Frank with a look of pure disgust, he knew something was wrong.

“What did you say, Dad?” he asked.

Buck looked up at him, his expression changing. “Doesn't matter,” he said.

“I said he'll make a good woman for you,” Frank repeated confidently. “He's your little sidekick, helps your mom cook, cleans the kitchen, picks up after the men. May not look the part, but he's close enough.”

There was a look in Tommy's eyes that Buck had never seen before. It was beyond terrifying.

Buck tried to smooth it over. “Tommy, it's-”

“I have spent,” Tommy spoke slowly, staring daggers into his dad, “this entire damn day fixing things that you're just too lazy to fix your damn self. I invited Evan along thinking maybe you'd see how happy we are, maybe you'd notice what a good person he is, and how much better he makes me. I did not bring him here to be mistreated by you."

“See,” Frank smiled up at him. His smile didn't reach the eyes the way Tommy's did. “You're saving your damsel.”

“Evan doesn't need saving. He's perfectly capable of standing up for himself, he's just been too nice to do it because, unlike you, he's not an asshole.”

Frank pointed at Tommy, still not bothering to get out of his chair. “You watch yourself,” he warned. “I was polite enough to let two fairies in my house today. I deserve some respect.”

Buck could see the white, blinding rage taking over Tommy. It took Buck about two seconds to move around and step in front of him, stopping Tommy from advancing on his dad. “Don't,” he said, pressing his hand against Tommy's chest. Tommy's eyes moved from Frank to Evan. Buck could feel his heart pounding. “It's not worth it,” Buck continued. “Let's just go, okay?”

Tommy pursed his lips together, but nodded. “Yeah, I- let's go.”

Thankfully, Frank kept his mouth shut as Buck placed a hand on Tommy's back and led them to the door.

“Wait a minute!” Alice demanded rather loudly.

“Mom-”

“You can sit in your truck,” she clarified, “but wait there. I'll just be a minute.”

Buck was going to offer to drive, but the second they got outside Tommy made a beeline for the driver's seat.

Once the car had been started and they were settled into their seats, Buck took a deep breath. “Tommy-”

“I can't right now, Evan,” Tommy interrupted. He was on edge, hands shaking, leg bouncing up and down as they waited for Alice to come out. “I'm sorry, but I can't.”

“That's fine,” Buck replied. He meant it. He understood what it meant to feel overwhelmed. When you needed a second with your own thoughts to process what just happened.

Buck rolled down the window when Alice came walking out with something in her hands.

Through the window she handed Buck a very old, very worn photo album. “Not sure what all's in there, but I'm sure a few of the pictures have Tommy,” she said. “I haven't looked through it in years. Not like I need it anymore.”

Buck ignored the pain in his heart at her words. “Thank you,” he muttered.

“Mhm.” She looked past him to Tommy. “I'll call you if the fan stops working again. May need you to come back. Probably best you come alone next time.”

Tommy nodded. He cleared his throat, managed a broken, “Yeah, Mom, okay,” before they drove off.

[maybe-boys-do-love]

Finished Last Twilight, and I'm not adding to the ableism discourse, because most things have already been said and with a lot of beautiful nuance that I agree with. But I do want to talk about how that ending arrived because of Aof Noppharnach's consistent symbolic commentary on the experience of living with HIV in much of his work, with an approach that's unique among all queer content. Imma skip Gay OK Bangkok since its not even a metaphor there, but I'll explain my rationale for the others, and we can just appreciate the foundation Gay OK Bangkok lays for us to think about the rest of his stuff.

The motif of life-saving medical intervention comes up in all but one of the works he takes screenwriting credit on. He's Coming To Me: P'Med dies originally because of a lack of medical intervention. 1000 Stars: Tian gets a heart transplant. Moonlight Chicken: this one's more subtle, but the whole series is explicitly established in the context of reopening following the COVID pandemic, and Wen will later say to Jim, "we are survivors." It was this line upon rewatch that made me start considering how thorough this theme is. Survivors of what? The meaning is three-fold: hard lessons in love, COVID, and, for gay men of their age, the HIV epidemic. The hope of medical intervention for Day's condition takes on a secondary meaning, with this trend in mind, even if the mixed disability politics between visual impairment and being HIV positive really fails.

His comparisons are more intricate though. Pills and daily regimens are a consistent motif. Day has his daily eye-drops, Tian his pills (which are presumably immune-suppressants to help accept the transplant but I'm not going to Viki right now and watching every ep to find out so someone feel free to correct me). 'But people take medicine for lots of things,' you say. 'Just because its gay doesn't mean its an HIV metaphor!' You have a fair point! But here's where Aof gets real fun and sneaky. P'Med dies from lack of pills the same year Torfun, whose heart will save Tian's life, is born, 1997. I'm mentioned once before 1997 as important for the class-conscious Aof because of the Asian financial crisis that Thailand set off that year. However, 1997 is also important because its the year HAART, or Highly Active Anti-Retroviral Therapy was first used in Thailand (it had hit the market only one year earlier). HAART, a multi-drug regimen, boosted someone's life-expectancy with HIV up by 15 years, and its side-effects were significantly milder than previous approaches. The medical conditions of P'Med and Torfun's heart point us directly to HAART, and what it could offer.

Now we're moving out of the medical and into the experiential connections because, while Dark Blue Kiss is the only work Aof chose to take credit for screen-writing without incorporating medical references, it is by far the most dense with references to the issue of concealment. Its in the narrative as people closet identities and hide relationships, yes, but its in SO much of the visuals, too, most obviously the Pete & Kao mug hidden inside its coozie. It's easy to see the surface story about gay visibility and the closet, but there's a more specific subtext here about the associated condition that intensified the stigma of being gay and how that impacts your sense of self. Bad Buddy explores this issue less, but even in the BL Bubble, its haunted by the stigma of homophobia--it just shuffles it over onto rivalry so the audience can experience it without reproducing it.

However, the grief and shame of surviving when others haven't haunts Aof's other works much more intensely. Jim and Tian both are hung up on guilt for someone's death that they did not actually cause, continuing to pursue the goals for those that passed rather than their own. Then, there's Thun and P'Med, which is the best allegory for living and dating with HIV, bar none. It goes into the feelings of stigma and the limits of physical intimacy with partners that living with HIV caused, especially prior to Truvada's introduction in 2004. Even then, the show depicts how a HIV negative partner maintains the choice to participate in their own regimens, as Thun's desires for physical intimacy with P'Med manage their relationship and never the other way around.

This sense of required separation and gay identities that are less sex-focused also play into oft-maligned motifs in Aof's work. He's talked explicitly about people's criticisms of the limited physical intimacy in his earlier works that led to the more prominent stuff in Bad Buddy, but I hope given the above context, we can appreciate why physical intimacy is less of a priority than other kinds (and I'd add that 1000 Stars, which got the most sh*t about it, is actually one of the most erotically-charged BLs out there because of it's restraint). Then, you have the finales where characters separate for periods of time, and while I don't see this as explicitly tied to HIV experiences (Aof is literally following the book of romcom beats there, even if everyone whines about it), I can't help but appreciate a tangential connection to loving beyond time and distance that was required for those who lived with or lost loved ones to HIV.

I would've loved to see a version of Last Twilight that didn't absolutely bungle its metaphor, because it had every element to be something great (except, I'm sorry to the fans, lead actors with the necessary queer romantic chemistry). Watching the last episode, when the show seemed to finally rediscover plot and pacing, all the other pieces that had been drowned out by the disability conversation peeked their heads out, and I saw what the show wanted to be. The topics related to living with HIV of stigma, survivor's guilt, and assistive technologies: they were all right there, not just for Day but for everyone, if only they had been given the proper time to marinate to develop more complexity. It's the rare instance of a show where I'll choose to spend time imagining what could have been rather than obsessing over what was or just moving on. Even a misstep from Aof, like this, is overflowing with so many more layers than most series. The failures of Last Twilight, in relationship to his other works, even let you see how much food for thought he's providing.

[wolfscarr]

Helluva Broken Narrative 3. Wasted Romance.

So here I am for a 3rd time on this...I guess Broken Narrative...series? Because honestly this just came to my mind, that's also a big point

^ Links to the other 2 parts that I've written out.

DISCLAIMER: Not saying you can't enjoy the show. Enjoy it all you want, this again is just a rant about a lack of cohesive narrative.

Alright so this may be because of the Season 2 trailer that I'm writing this, but I really just...need to throw this out there because it again, has everything to do with the Narrative that has been told to us thus far for 2 and a half Seasons.

So we as the audience are suppose to believe that Blitz and Stolas are going to end up together, but here's the thing. There's no reason for them Narratively to be together. Putting aside the fact that thanks to Season 2, Blitz and Stolas has ZERO reason to interact at all as I labeled out in my previous posts above.

The two have zero chemistry, they have nothing in common as far as personal hobbies and for all of S1 and it seems in S2, Stolas has treated him like complete shit. From what I've gathered in S2, Stolas is apparently going to throw Blitz out and is pissed at him because.....reasons.

Yet I'm suppose to want these two together because....why? There is no narrative reason for them to be together, people wanna say "you need to wait, you need to wait, you need to wait!"

WAIT FOR WHAT?! It's been 2 and a half Seasons worth of content. What we're suppose to wait all the way to Season 3? If that's the case, then this is laughable and shows how terrible the writing is, it also shows that the two should never be together if we're having to wait this long.

You're suppose to gradually put building blocks if you want a relationship to pan out in a series. The writing for 2 whole Seasons involving Blitz and Stolas, haven't done that and in fact Season 2 made things even worse for Season 1 and from where I'm sitting....it doesn't get any better.

Why should Blitz want to be with Stolas, after the way he's been treated? No one in their right mind would want to be with someone who's talked down to him, who's hung their livelihoods over their heads and who thinks so very little of his own species.

Oh but here's the kicker folks, here's something that will be quite a shocker! As I've explained in my posts above, you can write Stolas completely out of the show now thanks to Season 2, he's a pointless character. But you wanna know who you can't write out of the show? Wanna know who is an important character for Blitz?

VEROSIKA MAYDAY!

Wanna know why? Well first we have to turn back the clock to Season 1. See while Season 2 retroactively and continues to make things worse for the Blitz and Stolas dynamic and Season 1 just in general showed that they need to be so far away from one another, they should be in separate dimensions.

Let's see....we have had basically...what 9 episodes showing Blitz and Stolas' dynamic across 2 whole Seasons and I've gotten nothing other than they are terrible to eachother and have nothing in common/no chemistry.

But within a single Season and within....3 EPISODES! I have more of a Narrative reason to want Blitz and Verosika to reconcile and get back together. But let's explore those 3 episodes, shall we?

S1 EP 3, Spring Broken= Introduced to Verosika, Blitz stated that they had a lengthy relationship/dated for awhile, he took her car and credit cards.

^ This episode gives us an introduction to who they were to one another, showcases that the pair had a genuine relationship and it was Blitz who ended it. It also shows that Verosika has a tattoo of his name on her arm, signifying that he was very important to her.

S1 EP 6, Truth Seekers= In Blitz' hallucination, he comes across Verosika who is crying, crawling towards him, stating that "you just push away anyone who tries to get close to you!"

^ This brief sequence tells us that Verosika really did care/loved him, in that she was just wanting to help him, to understand him, to be there for him.

S1 EP 7, Ozzie's= Verosika again appears, saying that he was selfish in bed and calls him a heartbreaking freak, leaning into him, with Blitz looking guilty. Later on after, Blitz is scrolling through his phone and there's a picture of him and Verosika, clearly in a public area and she wearing a dress with the word NO over the crotch. This implying that she only wanted Blitz and no one else.

^ This sequence shows basically...everything that the prior 2 episodes told us and even moreso, that Verosika truly did love and care for him before he pushed her away. Blitz clearly looking guilty about what he had done to her.

So 3 episodes, 2 of which weren't even a focus on them, gives me much more of a reason to support them because the Narrative....didn't try to hamfist it. It was far more natural in building up than whatever they are trying to do with Blitz and Stolas, which in turn ends up breaking the Narrative entirely and making Stolas a pointless character for the show.

Now I'm sure Season 2 is going to no doubt, turn Verosika on her head as a character...just to support Stolas and to show Blitz that he is the one for him, but sorry...they really can't write their way out of it. Not that the writing has been able to do so anyway.

Yet the funny thing is? Verosika will be far more important to Blitz than Stolas ever will be and why? Because the Narrative tells and shows us this, she is an important part of Blitz' past, not just relationship wise either.

Verosika Mayday connects with Blitz that connects him to every single other part of his past due to his insecurities within himself and how he should be a better person to others. She actually can help him with that, if the writing allowed for it, she could actually help him mend his past relationships, since Verosika not only knows Fizzarolli, but also knows Barbie(due to rehab), though I know Blitz already reconciled with Fizz, I'm just saying this as more of a Narrative hook.

People wanna say this show has such 'complex and deep characters/writing' yet I really have a hard time seeing that, when S1 is basically broken. Oh but they also wanna say that "it's just a cartoon" or "It's not that serious!"

No...no folks, you can't say one thing and then say another that completely contradicts the other thing.

A show is like a house, S1 is the foundation and if that foundation is broken....then the whole show is. Characters and plot points have been made useless thanks to S2.

Yet Verosika, will always be important for Blitz as a character and to see this get wasted? Is a real shame.

The real waste though is that Season 1 had set it up, to where....they could have written it as Blitz and Stolas realizing that they need to confront those that they've hurt. That Blitz needs to confront those and reconcile with those of his past, to become a better person.

On Stolas' end, he has to confront both his wife and daughter before he loses them forever...before he loses his whole family. Something which mind you, is REALLY RELATABLE for many in the world, because many don't want their Families to split up. But of course as I've outlined in posts above, they just completely wasted Stolas' Family.

They had a great S1 story hook for both of them...and they fumbled the ball.

Anyway folks, this is the 3rd and probably last bit of Broken Narrative I make...so enjoy!