#i went on a first date today and just nothing was clicking with me

[mirrorbreaks]

I’m swearing off twinks. I’ve had enough.

[saetoru]

✩ ‧₊˚ ✩。the dictionary definition of a rich boy

synopsis. that rich guy who won’t stop asking you out is your partner for this project—send help

contents. pre dating rich boy! gojo, college! au, implications of a zenin being pushy on the first date, satoru being distraught you went on a date lol, pre relationship shenanigans with the cutest loser boy !!

word count. 3.8k (it’s literally all just him being a handful)

notes. thank you niku my most cherished gojo stan for comming this (and giving me the most ridiculous tip) i adore you so much :,) mwah 💋

he’s late—gojo is late. in fact, he’s very late, by forty-five minutes and thirty-two seconds to be exact. you aren’t really the count-by-the-second type of person, but somehow when it comes to that irritating, smug, too-talkative brat that you’re stuck with…well, you can’t help but be petty and use the seconds against him too.

he shows up close to an hour after your agreed time, waltzing in with a grin on his face—and, oh, you should kill him. he has the audacity to send you a wink when he walks over, coming up to your table and pushing his sunglasses down his nose just a bit to look you in the eyes over the lenses. 

what kind of person wears sunglasses indoors? surely only the kind that are nothing but trouble.

“aw, you’re here already,” gojo hums, “that excited to see me?”

“you’re late,” you spit.

“am i? i could have sworn—”

“now it’ll get dark by the time we get through what we planned for today,” you glare. he looks enthused, positively delighted by the statement—it’s almost as if you’ve offered him candy. 

“well, then i’ll just have to walk you to your apartment,” he offers smoothly. 

what a jackass. of course, just as expected, he’s still attempting to worm his way into your personal life (and likely your pants) in the most obnoxious of ways. over your dead body, however, will you ever allow him to know where you live, let alone accompany you on the way. you value your sanity, and having a conversation with gojo satoru longer than you absolutely have to seems like the most efficient way to fry every nerve and brain cell you have left.

“absolutely not,” you grit, “you can call me an uber. you pay.”

“alright,” he nods, “i’ll get an uber for you. but i’ll need your number to make sure you made it home safe. otherwise, what kind of partner would i be?”

typically, any normal pair of partners are meant to exchange numbers for a project—it would be the easiest form of communication, and more importantly, you can spam call if gojo decides not to carry his weight instead of just hoping and praying he checks his socials. but you can’t let him have your number—he’s not trustworthy enough for that. the last thing you need is him bombarding you with texts, or worse: calls, in the middle of work and class. so instead, you strictly inform him that any and all communication will occur via social media.

he pouts at that—it’s a cute pout, you have to admit. it’s slightly dangerous, too, because had you not had the self-control you do, you might have caved. but then he lights up at the prospect of you adding him back on socials. 

i’ll get your number one of these days, he says confidently. his confidence is as aggravating as the way he clicks his pen in the middle of class. he still chooses to sit right beside you despite all the free and very available seats the entirety of the lecture hall has. 

but no, he insists on sitting right next to you—and you? well, you have to hope you don’t get charged with homicide by the end of every class from the constant clicking he makes you endure. despite all that, gojo is surprisingly smart, which means your project might not be so doomed. 

he’s annoyingly smart, actually—he never takes notes, and just when you think the professor has him cornered by asking him a question when he’s seemingly dozing off, he answers immediately with the correct answer. 

you hate him.

“absolutely not happening,” you grumble, opening your laptop, “anyway i think we should start with—”

“well, i hate to inform you,” he sighs sadly as if it genuinely pains him to say this, “but i’ve actually deleted all my socials.”

“what?” your eye twitches.

“yeah,” he nods, “it’s a bit of a cleanse if you will. staring at your screen all day and finding value in fake posts is not good for mental health, you know? i’m trying to be more in tune with myself. it’s been a real self-journey.”

before the end of this project, you might either be a college dropout or an inmate at the county jail. you’re not sure, either is equally as possible.

“gojo satoru, i am sick of your games,” you spit, “we both know—”

“and i would hate not being in touch with my partner since it’s a crucial part of this project for us to work together,” he hums, something of a smug look plastered on his aggravatingly gorgeous face, “that thirty percent deduction for ineffective partner communication would be such a shame to get when we’re working so hard already on this, wouldn’t you agree?”

is he threatening you? for your number? with your grade? he is, you realize—and you clench your fist tightly around the phone in your hands as he eyes it with a knowing look on his face. he has you right where he wants you, whether you like it or not.

“you’re an asshole,” you spit.

“i’m a mental health advocate,” he gasps—he has the nerve to act offended, even as he’s so obviously enjoying working you up like this. you wish he’d drop dead immediately. maybe you could take his card from his wallet as his cold body lays lifeless on the table and order yourself a new laptop if he did—that would be ideal. 

“i saw you post on your story last night—”

“you didn’t watch it,” he pouts, “i posted a shirtless gym selfie just for you—wait a second, you pay attention to my story, huh?” he cuts himself off with a smirk, wiggling his eyebrows at you, “c’mon, you don’t have to force yourself to skip them. you know you wanna watch them.”

“no, i don’t,” you seethe, “it was just the first one at the top. stop being self-important—”

“anyway,” he drawls, eyeing your phone again. you want to splash your coffee in his face. “i’ll need your number,” he sniffs, “the crushing disappointment of you skipping my story made me realize i’m too focused on getting social media validation, so i’m taking a break. it’s the best thing for me to do in my headspace right now. hope you understand.”

“are you kidding me?” you stare at him. he grins before shaking his head.

“i would never joke about mental health,” he says seriously—it’s not as serious as your desire to slap him, however.

“fine,” you take a long, slow sip of your coffee to calm down, “give me your phone.”

“oh, you’re gonna set your own contact?” he brightens, immediately handing you his phone. it’s brand new—the newest model, in fact. it’s barely been a few days since it dropped. truthfully, you’re not even sure why you’re shocked—of course, he, of all people, would upgrade immediately. “how intimate,” he gushes, “it’s almost like we’re going on a date—”

“do not text me outside of project purposes,” you interrupt, thrusting the phone back into his hands, “got it?”

“you got it,” he grins triumphantly.

—————

like all things he does, gojo finds a roundabout way to keep his word without actually keeping it. it’s his secret talent, you think—finding loopholes through all the technicalities of things.

hey when ur free can u read over my portion? i just finished

btw r u going to that frat party this wknd? u don’t seem the party type haha but u should come 

i’ll introduce u to suguru! he’s my best friend he’s super nice u’ll like him

oh and when do u wanna meet this week? promise i’ll be on time this time ;)

you make sure to only respond to the questions regarding your project—just because he technically kept his word and started the conversation centered around the project before getting off topic doesn’t mean you have to indulge him. and the way he types is infuriatingly annoying—who shortens every possible word like that? only him, you think.

okay, maybe you’re just nitpicking now, but every time you see his name pop up on your screen, your mood sours tenfold. you decide to answer as dryly as possible.

k i’ll look. we meet same time as last.

the period at the end should add the perfect touch—you grin to yourself in pride at that one. instantly, bubbles pop up and indicate he’s typing again. your smile very quickly drops.

wow ur a rly dry texter aren’t u?

that’s ok i don’t judge

so how bout the party? 

i can be ur escort ;) 

it’ll be fun!

from his side of the screen, gojo watches as your contact shows notifications silenced at the bottom. he pouts to himself—no party, then, he thinks.

—————

gojo satoru, the guy who seemingly has everything he could ever want, likes you. 

frankly, he’s not really sure why—at first, he finds you mildly amusing, and he thinks it’d be fun to have a short fling with you perhaps. somewhere along the line, however, that changes. he watches you dedicatedly take notes in class, no matter how tired you seem from work the night before. he notices the way you chew on your bottom lip when you’re really focused—it’s actually very cute, he thinks. and he’s entertained by the way you always have some smart little retort waiting on your tongue. you’re not boring—and more than anything, you leave him a little humbled. it’s refreshing, and he kind of likes it, if he’s being completely honest.

he’s never liked anyone before—it’s a weird feeling. at best, he’s had a crush where he could appreciate that someone is generally pleasing to the eye and has a personality that might mesh well with his, but he’s never yearned for someone before. 

it just so happens to be his luck that the same person he wants more than anything in the entire world (for the first time ever, too) seems to hate his guts. it also happens to be that the same person he wants more than anything is currently getting asked out by some kid from the zenin family. right in front of him. and you’re saying yes. 

why on earth would you say yes to a zenin of all people? don’t you value yourself? 

gojo can admit that he’s had his fair share of heart robbing and tear inducing moments—he’s not exactly someone with the best track record for commitment, but at least he doesn’t use people for his own benefit. plus, he does, in fact, actually plan on committing to you. that zenin boy most certainly can’t be any good news if he’s anything like naoya, who gojo has met on a multitude of occasions, and knows very well is a scoundrel of a guy. 

“see you at nine?” he hears the zenin (what was his name again?) ask you. you nod, smiling sweetly. 

why don’t you smile sweetly at him like that? he buys you coffee every week. sure, he only gets to buy you the coffee because you have no choice but to meet him for the project, but he even offers to get you a slice of cake—you don’t ever accept, though, so he ends up eating both. but you do like coffee, very strong coffee that’s probably not sweet enough for his liking, but you enjoy the coffee he buys you nonetheless, and that has to count for something.

“sure, see you at nine,” you hum.

gojo watches in absolute shock (and abject horror) as you look down shyly. as soon as the zenin boy walks away, he stomps up to you.

“hey, what gives?” he asks petulantly, making your face paint on that irritated look that it always seems to adopt when he’s in the vicinity—how rude.

“what do you mean?” you ask tiredly, “i don’t speak toddler, so please use your words—”

“why’d you say yes to that zenin boy—”

“he has a name. it’s—”

“who cares what his name is? he’s an asshole! he won’t treat you right even if his mother’s life is on the line—”

“oh, and you would?” you raise an eyebrow, glaring at him. how is it his place to tell you who’d treat you right and who wouldn’t? how is it his place to even care?

“i would,” he gasps at the accusation, “you’d date a zenin but not me? how come?”

“because you’re annoying,” you counter like it’s obvious.

okay, now that is technically fair—gojo has heard his fair share of you’re annoying’s from people in his life. in fact, a good amount of them come from his own mother, but he’s also dashingly handsome, very good in bed, has soft hair, is tall and muscular, can buy you whatever you like, and can be smart and funny too if you really don’t care for those kinds of things. he’s the entire package and more. and more importantly, he’s not from the zenin family, and that automatically means you’ll actually be treated with an ounce of respect.

he looks at you incredulously, feelings a little hurt. “that’s not true! name one annoying thing i’ve done—”

“you laughed in the middle of me speaking in class.”

“that wasn’t at you! suguru showed me something funny on his phone—”

“and you took like twenty minutes in line ordering the most sweetest drink on the menu while i was running late—”

“you can’t use that against me, that’s not fair! i’m a paying customer, i should be able to get whatever i want. plus, it’s technically not my fault you were late.”

“you rubbed in the fact that you had a black card.”

“you mentioned it first!”

“you were late to our first meeting for the project.”

“okay, that was an honest mistake! people are allowed to make those, you know—”

“i don’t want to go out with you,” you say frustratedly, “and it’s really annoying when you act like a spoiled brat that can’t handle the word no and keep on insisting, okay? so leave me alone unless it’s to discuss our project—which weighs fifty-five percent of our grade, by the way, so don’t even think about getting lazy.”

he is not lazy, he wants to argue.

but before he can, you roll your eyes and take a step to walk around him, leaving him there to blink in shock. okay, he thinks with a huff, so you’re playing hard to get. that’s no matter, he’s good at the chase anyway. 

—————

the date doesn’t seem to have gone well. gojo can tell because your eyes are slightly red and puffy, and you’re extra grouchy today in class. your professor seems to have noticed, too, because instead of calling on you today, she calls on gojo extra as a rare show of mercy. 

gojo doesn’t mind—this class is surprisingly easy, and he’s bored half the time anyway. he might as well indulge the uptight professor in an ugly brown pencil skirt and answer her pretentious questions that aren’t as complex as she thinks they are. 

“so,” he finally breaks the silence, “how was your date—”

“if you’re looking for a chance to say i told you so, just get it over with, you jerk,” you grumble. he raises his eyebrows in surprise before both hands go up in surrender.

“i wasn’t,” he says genuinely, “you just…uh…you look upset, is all.”

you hesitate for a short second, gauging his sincerity for a moment before sighing and slumping on the desk, cheek resting on your arm. gojo resists the urge to poke the soft flesh—it’ll probably make you mad, and you’re already in a bad mood. 

“he was…pushy,” you say quietly, “i don’t really believe in taking things far on the first date. he didn’t like that.” instantly, his fists clench tightly, eyeing you from the side carefully, almost in concern. “nothing happened,” you wave off, “but he did make me feel disgusting,” you mutter.

“yeah, well, he is a zenin,” he points out, “they’re…well, my family’s known them for a while. my mom hates them.”

you look over at him in mild interest, raising an eyebrow. “don’t tell me there’s drama in the rich community,” you gasp, “i thought you all just came as one to sip fancy wine and laugh at the poor together.”

he snorts, throwing you a toothy grin that you think for a moment is kind of cute—but that doesn’t mean he’s any different from the rest of the rich folks. someone of gojo satoru’s caliber has no business mixing with someone of yours—it’s common knowledge. gojo has everything he wants, and if he doesn’t, it’s a simple matter of asking before it’s his. there’s simply no way you can mold into his world to be what he needs you to be, and when the time inevitably comes when he realizes you’re not what he wants, well…you’d like to save yourself the wounded pride and crushed soul while you can. 

“sometimes we have fancy appetizers too with the wine,” he jokes, “don’t forget those.”

“oh, my apologies,” you chuckle. gojo likes it when you laugh, he decides. it looks much better than when you’re glum—he thinks seeing your lips quirked in anything other than a smile is a waste of your perfect features, and he can’t have that.

“my mom married my old man in this stupid arranged marriage or something,” he explains casually, like it’s just the norm. you suppose it is—for the rich, at least. you wonder briefly if gojo will have a marriage planned for his future, too, and you wonder if he’s okay with that. surely it’ll be some wealthy and fancy socialite of a girl that fits his family’s standards. someone who’s not you—not that you care anyway, you wouldn’t marry him regardless. “my grandma wanted her to marry the zenin, but she said no. said he treated her like a piece of meat every time they met, so she settled for my dad instead. lucky her, 'cause now i’m her son,” he beams. 

settled—something about the way he says it makes you think his parents must not really care for each other as a husband and wife should. it makes you think briefly about what his childhood might’ve been like, not watching his parents happy and in love the way they should be. but still, the way gojo talks about his mother is fond, with a gentle smile on his face as he recalls the things she’s told him. you can’t help but smile a little too.

“i think that makes you the lucky one,” you snort, “you’d still be her son. just that you’d be a zenin.”

he crinkles his nose at the thought, dramatically shivering and making you giggle. “gross,” he gags.

“well, now you have her to thank,” you hum, “your dad would’ve been…whoever the zenin she was supposed to marry is.”

“yeah, well, trust me,” he mumbles, his smile dropping ever so slightly, “my old man’s not that big of an upgrade from a zenin. even my grandfather’s sick of him. imagine being such a douche, your own dad can’t stand you.”

you’re learning more about gojo in one sitting than you ever imagined (or planned) to learn—part of that is because he seems like he’s the type to overshare on the first meet; the other part…well, you have to be honest with yourself, it’s not exactly a bad pastime hearing him talk about himself. gojo is an odd piece of work, and you can’t say you hate learning about the little pieces that come together to make him so weird. 

okay, perhaps weird is a bit rude, you think—he’s…unique.

“oh, so you’re the dictionary definition of a rich boy, huh?” you hum, resting your cheek on your hand as you sit up and face him—gojo, for a quick moment, feels his heart stutter when you talk to him like that: with your undivided attention like he’s the only one in the room. 

“what makes you say that?”

“daddy issues is like…the first thing in the rich boy starter pack.”

he laughs at that, smooth and almost sweet—it’s a dangerous thing. it’s easy to attract you to him, like a bee to honey, with the way his lips curl like that, showing off his dimples. but the bees can easily turn into maggots—and you don’t want to find yourself as a dead carcass by the end of this.

“i don’t have daddy issues,” he says smoothly, “that old man should sleep with both eyes open. if anything, he has son issues.”

“you’re hands down the oddest person i have ever met,” you mumble.

“what was that? did you say hottest? yeah, i know—”

“shut up, jackass,” you scowl, shoving his shoulder when he leans closer with a bat of his lashes. he laughs, and so do you—and just for one, quick, momentary instance, gojo satoru is not so bad. dangerous and a bad choice maybe, a setup for a big mistake perhaps, something you should stay away from, in fact. 

but not so bad. 

“how about i show you what it’s like to go on a date with a gojo,” he grins, winking easily. he’s persistent—very persistent, you note. “you might like it a lot more than a zenin.”

“no, thank you,” you hold a hand up, “never going to happen.”

“never say never,” he hums, “you might eat your words.”

—————

“hey, satoru?”

“that’s not my name.”

“that actually is your name,” you say tiredly.

“hmph,” satoru rolls over, dramatically tugging the blankets over his body as he shuffles away from you, “not to you, it’s not.” 

you sigh, pursing your lips at his antics. “oh my god. okay—hey, toru?” you correct yourself. and just like that, he turns back around, grinning brightly as he inches closer until his head is resting on your chest.

“yes, baby?” he says sweetly, earning a roll of your eyes as your fingers weave into his hair. it’s soft—you don’t think you ever want to let go.

“it’s way better dating a gojo, by the way,” you murmur, “than a zenin.”

“oh yeah?” he grins smugly, arm draping over your body as he kisses your jaw, “i told you it would be, didn’t i?”

“i haven’t dated other rich families to compare, though,” you tease, “you might get replaced.”

“unlikely,” he chuckles, “no one,” there’s a kiss to your jaw, “will love you,” another kiss to your cheek, “like me.”

finally, there’s a slow, soft kiss to your lips—and when he kisses you like that, you have no choice but to believe him.

satoru sooooo sends multiple texts back to back he just like me for real

[whoskimii]

You asked for nsfw requests, and therefore I happily oblige (I'm a whore for Kento)

Kento spanking and fucking his wife good in front of a mirror, forcing her to look herself or else🫢

yummy yummy yummy :3

⋆౨ৎ˚ notes > kento x you. rough sex! you tease him and he gets pissed off hehe <3 tell me if i missed anything!! ^^ ౨ৎ warning : you may have butterflies in your belly while reading this!! 𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔

it was your anniversary today. and you decided to go to a high-end restaurant with your husband. kento planned everything, as usual.

you've been together for four years now, married for two. kento was the perfect husband. whenever he came home from work, all tired and sleepy, he would ask you if you wanted a back massage. he just was the perfect man. you've known it from the beginning.

even your family liked him. they've been saying how he was the perfect man for you. and they couldn't be more right.

the little date went well. everything was perfect. but you felt like teasing him. every time you teased him, he'd go all bossy and pissed off. and that's precisely what you wanted tonight. of course you loved how gentle and tender he was. but for your anniversary, you wanted to get dicked down. and dicked down good.

so what better way to tease him than to flirt with the waiter ? and it worked. of course it did.

at first, it was innocent. you just blinked your pretty eyes at him a few times, gave him little smiles. that didn't go unnoticed, by both your husband and that waiter. the waiter seemed flustered and your husband was definitely starting to get pissed off. but he contained it.

then, it grew obvious. you crossed your legs and even went as far as rubbing your thighs together suggestively as you stared at the waiter. kento didn't intervene.

that's maybe why you found yourself on the bed, your back covered by your husband's chest. your face was buried in the pillow, drool staining it as kento's cock slid in and out of your twitchy little hole over and over again.

you pissed him off so much that he became rough. he was usually never rough with you. he grabbed your hair and tugged on it, forcing you to stare at yourself in the mirror. "watch. yourself. i won't say it twice." he whispered in your ear threateningly. "like seeing yourself like that ? getting fucked like the cheap little slut you are. good for nothing except taking dick." you whined softly, sloppy pussy clenching around his cock. "yeah, you like that. i can tell by the way she's clenching around me."

you gasped as his palm suddenly made contact with your ass. he spanked you roughly, causing you to cry out softly. "ken..." you mumbled. your jaw went slack as he responded with a harsh thrust. you watched yourself get literally used with hazy, unfocused eyes. "ken, s'too much..." you gasped for the second time as he spanked you again, harder than last time. "suck it up, slut. you asked for it. take it." you were about to bury your face in the pillow again but he gripped your jaw before you could. "i can't— ken !" you moaned as the tip of his cock bullied your sweet spot, hitting it harshly.

your eyes rolled back as you drooled, jaw slack. he chuckled breathlessly as he watched you through the mirror. "look at yourself," he clicked his tongue. "going all dumb on my cock. instead of the waiter's, huh ? how ironic, since you were almost begging him to fuck you. i could see it in your eyes."

you shook your head weakly, gripping the sheets. "was jus'... jus' teasing you, ken..." you managed to babble, although with difficulty. "yeah ? just teasing me, huh ? i can't believe how much of a slut you are. and here i thought i married an innocent little woman. you just wanted me to fuck you, mhm ? is that it, honey ?" you nodded vigorously, arching your back to get the tip of his cock to graze against your sweet spot.

he shook his head, almost disappointed, before grabbing your hips and fucking you with more energy. you moaned and buried your face in the pillow, fucking yourself back on his cock. "ken, m'gonna come... s'too good..." you babbled. he only hummed and continued thrusting into you as if you only were a little hole for him to fuck.

your orgasm washed over you as your eyes rolled back. you moaned loudly, eyebrows furrowing in pleasure. your pussy pulsated around him like crazy, which prompted him to spill himself inside you.

after coming down from his high, your husband placed a kiss on your back and gently pulled out. "come on," he murmured. he carefully picked up your fragile, trembling body and walked to the bathroom. "let's clean up."

well, you indeed got dicked down. and dicked down good.

being a whore for kento is a canon event i fear :3

⋆˚࿔ kimi 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

[lovelyverosika]

I keep thinking about his angel eyes

Hazbin Hotel! Adam x Fem!reader

Part 3 —> Part 1 | Part 2

Warnings: talk about self hate

A/N: Here is the part 3 everyone wished for. I decided to make a total of 4 parts, so you sadly still need to wait a bit for the end :,) Like always I’m sorry for any grammar mistakes.

Y/N POV:

I found myself in a room similar to a movie theater. I’m not able to move a single muscle in my body. Suddenly a movie started playing, memories of my life in heaven or more specially about Adam and me. I smiled and felt all warm and fuzzy inside as the memories of our growing relationship were displayed right in front of me.

The first time we met, how we fought at work, how we began to spend more time with each other, our first dates and how he took his mask down for the first time. This may sound exaggerated but that was the proof of how much he trusts me and oh lord was he gorgeous. His golden eyes had me captured the moment I looked into them…his beautiful angel eyes. Nothing was more beautiful than seeing his true emotions reflect in them. Everyone knew him as "The first man" or the self quoted "Dick master" but I know it better. Deep down he’s a insecure soul who’s desperate for admiration and affection, especially after loosing his two previous wives to the same man.

Of course he was a total asshole when I first met him but he changed for the better and that out of his own will, that is something not everyone is willing to do. In a flash of seconds more memories were shown: Our first kiss, anniversary and lastly our wedding. It was a very magnificent day, I never ever thought I will find a lover let alone get married to someone. Everything was just perfect until the court accident today.

Suddenly everything went black. I don’t know where I am or what to feel, this is stranger than any dream or nightmare I ever had. I slowly stood up as a sudden blow of cold air hit me. I wrap my arms around myself as I start walking around in this strange void. All I can hear is my own heartbeat,breathing and the sound of my heels clicking on the ground. After what felt like an eternity I found a single white door in the middle of this nowhere.

Not knowing what else I should do I open the door and enter another black space with a single mirror standing in the middle. This is all so strange and overwhelming I couldn’t prevent myself from tearing up..pathetic that’s what I am. I took a deep breath and walked towards the mirror. I looked like an absolute mess with my eyes puffy from all the crying.

Suddenly the reflection changed in how I used to look like back then in hell. "Helloooo, redeemed or not I’ll always be a part of you.”, my reflection said. I was completely stunned…how is that even possible? "Do you remember what you used to tell your friends back then in hell? You said and I quote: You don’t need to be perfect to be worthy of being loved or deserving a better life. Everyone deserves a second chance and that goes for you too." My old self gave me a big smile and I couldn’t help but smile too.

In a way she is right but accepting yourself is much harder than people say. It takes lots of time, patience and willingness. My reflection gave me a look full of pity before she started to speak. "You probably think he will leave you, hm? Of course that can be an option but would he really? It’s like Rosie said it’s difficult to admit things you’re not proud of but you’re still you. The fact you used to be a demon doesn’t change the person you really are, the person he grew to love and cherish. It seems like we’re running out of time..it was nice seeing the person I became. You’re much stronger than you think.", she chuckled and waved at me. "Farewell Y/N..it’s time to wake up now. Emily must be going insane from how much she worries about you."

My reflection disappeared and left me with a warm feeling inside my heart. With a smile on my face I walked through the mirror and woke up in a bed, which must belong to Emily. In less than a few seconds Emily wrapped her arms around me, hugging me tightly. "You’re awake, I was so scared you wouldn’t wake up.", she said while sniffing onto my chest. I couldn’t help but smile, she’s such a sweetheart. "Shh, I’m here now.", I said while patting her back.

Part 4

[fireflyinks]

ooc ep with mandy hamzah and martin then hamzah introduces u as his gf 👀👀 twitter insta tiktok etc is going crazyyyy abt it too

girlfriend reveal (hamzah edition)

hamzah x reader

a/n : not sure if i love or hate this but here it is!! sorry i haven’t been as active I SWEAR im trying to get to your requests!! this was such a good idea and lmk if you want me to write a version but with y/n being a content creator as well. much love!

contains : a little fluff, slight cursing (literally just bs), cuteness, hard launching

I rocked back and fourth on my heels, standing directly beside the camera’s view. Anticipation and nervousness swirled in my stomach.

It probably wasn’t as big of a deal as I was making it, I knew that, but my nerves were still going buck-wild.

After three months of dating, Hamzah was introducing me as his girlfriend on the podcast today. We both wanted to wait until it was the right time, and we had finally decided that it was now or never.

YouTube was a ginormous part of Hamzah’s life, so the thought of his fans not approving of me was a big fear of mine. He’d assured me that they would love me, but I knew that he couldn’t be sure of that fact.

After about three minutes of rambling on about something pointless, Hamzah finally cleared him throat.

“We also have a special guest this episode. Please welcome, my beautiful girlfriend, y/n.”

I walked into frame, sitting beside Hamzah on the already crowded couch. Mandy and Martin clapped at my entrance, and I giggled nervously. This was a weird feeling for me, since I normally wasn’t this shy.

Hamzah handed me a mic he had bought specially for this episode, since normally they only had three people on at a time and didn’t own a fourth mic. He also put an arm around me, which helped calm my nerves a small bit. Hamzah’s touch could almost always make me feel better. I guess it was a good thing then that I was basically sitting on his lap due to limited space on the yellow couch.

“Hello,” I spoke into the microphone, smiling sheepishly.

“Introduce yourself.” Hamzah encouraged. He was taken aback by my shy demeanor as well.

“I’m y/n, Hamzah’s girlfriend…” I racked my brain for other facts about myself, but nothing came to mind.

Mandy chimed in, “We finally managed to get Hamzah a girlfriend guys, this is a rare sighting.”

I laughed along with Mandy and Martin, and Hamzah just rolled his eyes.

“You did not manage anything, I got her myself.”

“Bullshit, I’m the one who introduced you two.”

It was true, Mandy and I had worked together for about a year now and she was constantly telling me about how I needed to meet Hamzah, how well we would get along. Finally, she planned a night for us all to hang out, and we just kind of clicked.

“Yeah, Mandy is actually a really good match maker.” I nodded.

Mandy shrugged, “You are both socially awkward so I thought you’d be perfect for one another. And I was right, of course.”

Some time went on, and my nerves slowly started to dissolve. After about an hour, we finished filming, and Hamzah drove me home.

“So…” he began, looking out at the road as he drove, “how’d you feel about that?”

I shrugged, “I was really nervous at first but I think it turned out okay.”

Hamzah placed his hand on my thigh, “I promise, you have nothing to worry about. Everyone will love you.”

—

Hamzah posted the video the next day, and I couldn’t get myself to read the comments or open any social media until I got home from work, five hours later.

I sighed, sitting down on my couch and fumbling with my phone, opening YouTube and pressing on the new episode, entitled “Girlfriend Reveal (Hamzah Edition)”, which happened to the first video on my feed. The intro music began to play.

There were already 500 comments.

awww they’re literally perfect for eachother ❤️

where is the Hamzah to my Y/n

the way hamzah looks at her…

I couldn’t help but smile to myself as I read the kind comments.

I commented a quick heart on the video before moving on to TikTok. My feed was already mostly slushy noobz clips, so I wasn’t surprised when I was the first thing I saw after opening the app.

It was the clip of Hamzah introducing me as I tried to fit next to them on the small couch, with “Margeret” by Lana Del Rey playing in the background softly. The comments were just as positive as the ones on YouTube.

OMG?

wait she’s like genuinely so pretty

they’re so socially awkward together, it’s perfect

Last but not least was Twitter, which scared me the most. I knew that if anyone would have a problem with me, they would most likely express it on Twitter.

I opened the app, and went to search, to be met with “Hamzah’s New Girlfriend” trending. This was either a very good thing or an extremely bad thing.

I clicked on it, and began reading some of the tweets under the hashtag.

hamzah’s new girlfriend is literally so gorgeous, im actually obsessed with the two of them together

hamzah’s new girlfriend genuinely seems so sweet, my heartttt 🥹🥹🥹

“thank you mandy”, we say in unison, hamzah and his new gf are literally PERFECT

Suddenly, there was a quick knock at the door. I got up to answer, wondering who it was. Hamzah was filming a video with Martin and Mandy had told me earlier that she was getting her nails done after our shift.

I opened the door, being met with a bouquet full of colorful assorted flowers. My heart felt as if it could burst. I picked them up, grabbing the paper tag on them to read it.

I knew they would love you - Hamzah

⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊✩°｡⋆˚⁺

[crookedkryptonitebeliever]

Yandere Coworker (part 12)

Thank you @i---believe---in---pink for commissioning this chapter.

(2041 words)

Tw: afab reader, reader is pretty mean to Cyprus, Cyprus becoming angry and yelling at reader

Please vote on the poll down below

Masterlists (+commission info), part 1, part 13

You rubbed your eyes with the back of your hand, Cyprus must have thought you were doing that excessively, as he would grab your wrist and pull it away from your face. He gave you a look from the corner of his eyes before returning his attention to the road.

You slumped in your seat, resting your cheek on the seatbelt. Cyprus's hand would find its way back to your thigh, where he would knead and squeeze them as much as he liked. You simply stared at it, because it would always return no matter how much you slapped it away.

You brought your chin up and looked forward. This farmer's market must be far, all you could see is a long strip of asphalt and grass around the car. The sun was shining bright and the air was silent, he refused to turn the radio on or play some music, because he wanted you to talk to him. Cyprus wanted a conversation, to connect with you better by sharing things about each other. But you're just not interested, you wanted to go home and catch up with sleep. Having Cyprus in your life is such a curse, everything was thrown off balance and he kept bullying you. Plus, he kept your phone away, and you're forced to simmer in reality.

"What's your zodiac sign?" He asked, resting his hand on your thigh.

You shrugged. Claiming not to be interested in it just so he would leave you alone in peace.

"Hm." He flicked his turn signal switch to the right before making a turn. "I'm a Cancer, my birthday's on the third of July. And if you're wondering what to get me, I just want your cute little ass on my face." Cyprus sported a playful smirk on his handsome face.

You told him you hope he gets cancer on his birthday. Which made him roll his eyes and click his tongue.

"Someone's cranky." It was followed by a laugh from him. "Sleepy?"

You snapped, telling him you didn't want to go on this stupid date this early in the morning. Wishing that you had never met Cyprus because everything was fine before then, but he had to come around and ruin it. He should just shrivel up and die.

There were a few beats of silence before he began speaking again.

"Wow, where the fuck did that come from, princess? That was a lot to take in." He tried to keep the tone lighthearted, but you could hear a twinge of hurt in his voice. "I must have woken you on the wrong side of the bed today, you were never this mean to me." Something in the way he said that suggests Cyprus is trying to get you to tell him the real reason why you're so moody today.

You sealed your lips shut and looked out of the window. You wanted nothing to do with him and he probably got the hint, as he removed his hand from your lap and placed it on the steering wheel.

Your eyes somehow itched way more than usual, so you went on to rub your eyes again with both hands.

"Stop that-"

You snapped at him again, curling yourself into a ball, pressing yourself far away from Cyprus. He opened his mouth to say something but ultimately decided against doing so.

He looked troubled but you didn't care. Unfortunately, you're too upset to give a damn and you don't know why.

The rest of the ride was driven in silence, neither you or him said a word. And eventually, Cyprus has reached his destination, driving further past the tents and stalls to enter an underground parking lot.

"We're here." Cyprus pulled his handbrake up and killed the engine. He took the keys out of the ignition, but made no move to open the door.

Because he was staring at you, who is now refusing to budge. Hiding yourself in your corner with your knees brought to your chest.

He brought a hand up to your head, petting your hair affectionately. "Baby? I said we're here-"

You yelled at him, saying you heard him the first time. All that while harshly shoving his hand away from you.

"What the fuck is up with you today!?" And it seems like that was the last straw for him, Cyprus furrowed his eyebrows and crowded you from his seat, making the only escape route the door, but it was locked and you somehow couldn't open it no matter how much you tugged on the handle or toggled with the lock.

You said you hated him, he has ruined your life. Perhaps you were trying to mimic what his exes did, you don't know how they could withstand the pressure of his menacing presence. Or maybe they liked it, you definitely didn't.

He sternly called you by your name. "Look at me."

You refused, burying your face in your arms.

"Look at me!" He scolded, this time Cyprus seized you by the jaw and forced your face to his. His grip on you was almost bruising, forcing you to pucker your lips as his fingers dug into your cheeks.

He glared straight at you, steely grey eyes darting all over to examine whatever might be causing your sudden and severe hostility. Though his expression softened when he realized what's been behind your intolerance today.

"Ah." He sounded out, "That figures." relieved and annoyed at the same time. Cyprus brought his thumb on your lower eyelid and gently pulled it down. He then pushed your upper eyelid up.

"Pink eye. I told you not to hang around Nancy." Nancy was one of your nosier coworkers, she had just come back from a medical leave and Cyprus was already telling you to avoid her. You didn't listen despite how she would have coughing fits and bad coughing etiquette. In hindsight, maybe you should have heed his words, but you were desperate to regain some agency over yourself. So you rebelled.

He continued checking your eyeball even after he knew what he was looking at.

It felt invasive, so you thrashed in his grip enough for him to loosen it.

He sighed, taking his keys out of his pocket, jabbing it into his ignition and restarting it again. You winced when Cyprus revved up his engine and allowed its roar to bounce off the basement carpark walls.

"I knew you didn't mean any of it; the crap you said to me. But you really need to say what's bugging you next time... not just take it out on me." He brought his handbrake down and shifted gears.

You remained static in your position and stayed quiet.

"I know you wouldn't, though. It's like it'll kill you to open up." Cyprus drove away from his perfect parking spot, pressing on the gas pedal as if he was in a rush.

"It's fine, I totally love playing detective." Snarked Cyprus sarcastically.

You merely rubbed your eye with a finger.

--

"One more drop, princess." He whispered, holding cupping your cheek and using his thumb to pull your lower eyelid down. Once the last droplet of your antibiotics reached your eye, you blinked hard and held onto his wrist.

"That's a good girl," Cyprus whispered as he pecked you on the forehead, before screwing the cap back on the bottle. A few seconds later, you started to feel the relief in your diseased eyeball.

Cyprus had driven you to a nearby pharmacist, where he would buy medicated eye drops for your conjunctivitis. He had insisted that he is the one to administer it because he claimed that you wouldn't know how to do it correctly despite being there when the pharmacist verbally gave you the instructions. It wasn't cheap, but he still footed the bill himself.

You shook your head and blinked rapidly, allowing the medicine to spread evenly. Cyprus brushed any stray hairs away from your face with his fingers, you were too distracted with the sensation you have in your eye to push him away.

"Well?"

You looked at him. He has his arms crossed and is leaning against the side of his car.

"Aren't you going to apologize? You were so fucking mean to me earlier." He looked away momentarily, seemingly trying to hide something on his face before bringing back his focus on you.

You froze and couldn't get anything out, yes, you were unreasonably rude to him. But that may be your only ticket out of this forced relationship... Well, your last resort is to go to the police but you don't think it has come to that yet. It's not... Illegal to be a jerk to Cyprus as long as you check yourself from time to time.

You were brought out of your thoughts by an incoherent grumble from Cyprus, he massaged his brow. "Okay, we don't have to do that now, you're definitely still a little prickly for some reason and I think I know why." He took a deep breath and exhaled as he opened the door to his passenger seat.

You stared blankly at the interior of his car, he gestured for you to go in. "Come on, get in. I'm going to have to fight for another parking spot, and that's going to take a while."

You looked around you, god knows where you are right now and you have no smartphone to navigate your way back home. There isn't a bus stop in sight either. Perhaps you could slowly inch your way to the general direction of your home? Your shoes are intact and pretty comfortable, there has to be a bus stop somewhere.

"You are not walking home, I'll fucking wrangle you into this car if I have to." As if he was reading your mind, Cyprus quickly closed the space between the two of you, so that your face is almost smothered in his broad chest.

You begrudgingly agreed and went into the Passenger's side on your own. He closed the door for you and shook his head while walking towards the driver's seat.

The distance between the pharmacy and the market wasn't that far at all, it was short enough that Cyprus didn't try to initiate any small talk or touch you either. Or maybe he was still freshly wounded by your recalcitrance.

Cyprus only reached out to pull your hand away when you're about to rub your eyes again.

"Here." He picked up his thermos flask in his cup holder and handed it to you. "Drink up, you only had a tiny sip of water today."

You cautiously took it from his hand and opened it to access the crisp, refreshing water with ice cubes bobbing around.

He was right, Cyprus isn't looking for a motherly partner to supplement his life. He is the motherly one who you now realize took care of you very well no matter how much you didn't like his personality.

From cutting your steaks without needing to ask, making your meals, taking you to the clinic, and paying for anything you can think of. Yes, it's irritating that he would drag you to dates that you didn't even want to go on in the first place, but his intentions were for you to experience the world and all its novelty alongside him. He just wanted you to have fun differently and he isn't stingy with his money.

However, that doesn't discount the fact that he's doing all these against your will, touching you despite your numerous "No"s and rejections, forcing you to play along with this romantic fantasy of his in the office and holding your items hostage, so he could keep you in his apartment.

You brought your attention to him again, he's sulking. A stark contrast from his cheery, teasing attitude from this morning.

Somehow, you felt guilty for lashing out at Cyprus earlier. He did make you cry, though. So this could have been payback for it. However, he apologized, albeit sounding patronizing and infantilizing.

But if you apologize, it will only send a message that you're genuinely interested in being with Cyprus. Worsening his chronic disability to heed your rejections.

You thought about your next move.

[dokries]

my boo

pairing: boo seungkwan x gender neutral reader

genre: fluff, established relationship

word count: ~1.1k (with bonus)

warnings: seungkwan being embarrassing in public, going to the beach/sea, mentions of food in the bonus

author note: hi i know it’s may but. here’s a first snow seungkwan fic? i wrote this and originally posted it in early december so…basically, i don’t want to keep this in the drafts until then HAHA once again, this is a repost! if you think you’ve seen it, you probably have :D (it is still my work though of course)

masterlist

“IT’S SNOWING!” you hear seungkwan’s voice right before you get tackled by him on the couch, his limbs trapping you underneath him.

you giggle at his excited expression before looking over his shoulder, seeing the white flakes fall outside through the window. “you’re right, it is. the weather report said there was a 80% chance of snow today.”

he gets up, untangling your bodies before pouting at your cool demeanour. “you’re not excited. why are you not excited?”

you shrug before getting up, groaning from the use of your legs after the time you had spent sitting down. “i mean, it’s not like it doesn’t snow every winter.”

seungkwan gasps before putting a hand to his chest, offended. “are you telling me that your first winter with me isn’t important? we haven’t even had a date in the snow yet! or—or literally anything wintery! i can’t believe this. why do i even love you?” he finishes ranting with a huff, turning his body away from you.

you roll your eyes fondly at your tangerine boy before pulling his hand towards you, urging him to look at your face.

“it’s nothing like that kwannie, i promise,” you say before grinning widely. “and you love me because of my amazing sense of humour and just because i’m great, of course.”

he sighs and gives you a fake annoyed expression before smiling mischievously. “so this means you’ll let me take you to the beach so we can have a photoshoot right? yeah,” he says, pulling your arm to the entryway, giving you no choice but to put up with his antics. (you would anyway; it’s him after all.)

“wait…in this?” you look down at your silly moose pyjamas, and at seungkwan’s matching ones before shaking your head. you knew seungkwan didn’t care—he loved to be open about your relationship, and these pyjamas definitely helped that. besides, it’s winter! you would be wearing a jacket on top anyway.

you let seungkwan put your coat on you (not without a little peck on your forehead to let you know he wasn’t actually mad; you knew he never was when he acted like this) and your socks when you struggle before putting on his own winter gear and opening the door. he lets out a low breath before taking your hand and putting it in his pocket, both your hand—and hearts—warm together.

…

in the car, you clap every time after seungkwan finishes belting out a christmas song from a playlist you had found (how he managed to focus on driving while doing this, you had no idea) and when he parks in the small lot the beach has, you grin, fully excited for your little date.

after your hands reunite in his coat pocket, he takes you to your favourite spot whenever you both went to the beach; a place not too close to the water where you had to worry about getting wet, but also one where you could still see the serene beauty of the ocean clearly.

as you take your phone out of your pocket to take pictures of the icy sea, you hear the sounds of seungkwan’s phone clicking in your direction. when you turn to look at him with a question on your face, he shrugs before saying, “just making sure i take pictures of the best view around here.”

soon enough, your photo taking session comes to an end, and you walk back to your parked car, laughing at a silly picture you took of seungkwan. he takes a look around before running over to a small field nearby covered in fresh snow, before slipping and falling.

“seungkwan?? you okay, honey?” you ask as you run over to his side before your worried expression turns into a deadpan, seeing his pose. he was on his side with his elbow propping up his head, and before you can say anything about how silly he looks, he wiggles his eyebrows. “that was a perfect reenactment of how i fell for you, my pookie dookie snookie pookums.”

before you can shush him and remind him that you’re in public, you hear a loud gasp and a little girl’s voice say, “mommy, look! they’re flirting!” from behind you.

you turn your eyes back to the trail you were walking on with your boyfriend just a few minutes ago, and see a mother cover her young daughter’s eyes from seungkwan’s antics before hurriedly walking away from the scene you two were making.

thankfully, as soon as they leave, there’s no one to see the way you crouch down and smack seungkwan’s shoulder. “what was that for, kwannie?!”

he pouts before sticking out his tongue at you and pulling you down onto the snow beside him. “i was just showing my love for you, my sweetheart plum sugar with two eggs five cups of flour—”

you shut him up with a small peck to his cheek before shooting his lovestruck face a dirty look. “that’s enough out of you now. i’m telling your mother that you embarrass me in public,” you huff, fully knowing that seungkwan’s mother simply adored you.

you giggle when seungkwan makes a sound of indignation and instead peck his cheek again. “fine, fine, i won’t. but…you have to stop using those corny pet names.”

he huffs before sighing dramatically.

“fine. i’ll stop, my five large egg yolks, one and one third cups water…okay i’ll stop,” he finishes off, seeing your face before leaning in to peck your cheek, making you giggle and him smile. “there’s my boo.”

bonus!

in the car, you remember to ask seungkwan something. “what were you even saying? my 2 cups of sugar…was that even an actual recipe?”

he looks at you while fixing his rearview mirror. “yeah, it’s from a recipe for lemon meringue pie.” his neck flushes a bit as he continues, “i was planning to make it for you one day…so it was the first thing i thought of.”

the next day, you wake up to the smell of something burning. you quickly get up and sprint to the kitchen, only to see seungkwan putting something in the trash sheepishly. “…i burnt the pie.”

though it takes a while to get the smell out of your home, and the window needs to be open in the cold weather, you have an excuse to cuddle up with seungkwan in your warmest blanket. (he would anytime you asked anyway; no need for burnt baked goods).

[writtenfangirl]

Call Me By My Name

Singapore was arguably the most exciting race of the season. Been thinking about writing fics for Carlos Sainz too but only if there's a demand for it so drop your prompts/suggestions if you guys feel like reading about our favorite Smooth Operator!

Y/N clicked the little red dot on the screen of her phone before nestling it amongst the clutter of the TV stand, aiming it towards her and her unsuspecting boyfriend, who was too busy preparing himself a bowl of cereal in the kitchen to notice his girlfriend’s mischievous grin or the furtive glances she was casting his way. 

Not for the first time in her life, Y/N was grateful for the apartment’s open floor plan. 

Charles’ apartment was located in one of the highest buildings in Monaco. Many of Charles’ driver friends lived in the same apartment complex but only he lived in the penthouse. The owner of the building was a big fan of his and had given Charles the penthouse of less than half the price. 

The building was close to the sea and with Charles’ living in the highest floor, his apartment had one of her favorite views in the world. They spent hours of their lives here with the windows open, the sound of the waves crashing against the shore, mingling with the salty sea breeze that flew through the room. Sunsets were even more gorgeous with the view of the apartment and Y/N always made sure to leave after dark so she could watch the sun sinking beneath the waves. Not that Charles really allowed her to go when it go too dark. Most of the time, he insisted she’d stay over for the night so he knew she was safe.

Another reason why she preferred to “leave” after dark.

The apartment’s wide and expansive space was airy, light easily filtering through the window’s gauzy curtains. The open floor plan meant Y/N was able to keep her phone hidden in a little space next to the TV without Charles noticing it, all the while affording her phone a view of the kitchen unobstructed. 

She sent her phone a quick grin and a thumbs up before she settled on one of the couches in the living room that gave her a perfect of view of Charles. He was shirtless, his back turned to her as he reached for a bowl in the high shelf of his cupboard.

“Baby, do you want anything?” Charles called out as he continued preparing his food.

“Do you think you can make me of a cup of coffee, Charles?” She answered, a little too innocently when he went back to the empty bowl that he placed on the kitchen isle with a box of cereal in his hands.

Almost instantly he paused, the cereal box raised and half-poured, his eyes wide in alarm instantly snapping to her. “What did you say?”

“I said, can you make me a cup of coffee, Charles?” She repeated, fighting to keep her expression blank. How she managed to not burst out laughing at the sight of pure and abject horror at her boyfriend’s face was beyond her. 

His alarmed expression intensified at his name as he put down the cereal box, his snack forgotten. “Did I do something to upset you, amore? Are you mad at me?”

She feigned ignorance. “No, Charles. I just want some coffee.”

“You did it again!” He exclaimed, pointing an accusatory finger at her as he rounded the kitchen aisle and came out of the kitchen and into the living room.

“Did what again?”

“You called me Charles!”

“That’s your name!” She exclaimed, unable to stop her laugh this time.

“What is today?” He demanded before fishing his phone out of his pocket and checking the date. “Today is not your birthday or our anniversary. What did I do?”

“Nothing!” She exclaimed. 

“But you are calling me Charles, amore! That means you are mad!”

“Am I not allowed to call you Charles?” She teased. 

“No.” He declared with a pout. “You can only call me Charles when you are mad at me. Any other day, you call me babe or amore or (a term of endearment in your native language).”

“Okay, Charles. Please make me a cup of coffee?”

His pout turned into a scowl before he raised a hand to his brow like a sailor searching for land. He turned left and right and in such a dramatic way, it could only be called sarcastic. “Who is this Charles, amore? Do I know him? Is he here?”

“You are Charles! Charles Marc Herve Percival Leclerc!”

“Ask Charles to make you your coffee.” He scoffed before he crossed his arms, his head cocked high up into the sky before he spun around and sauntered back to the kitchen. 

Y/N couldn’t stop her laughter anymore. Not when her overdramatic boyfriend occasionally acted like a child when he was being teased by her. She shook her head, her lips pulled into a smile as she jumped on her feet and walked to the kitchen, embracing him from behind as he poured cereal into his once abandoned bowl. “I’m only kidding, babe. Can you please make me a cup of coffee?” And to seal the deal, Y/N stood on her tip toes and placed a kiss on his stubbly cheeks. 

Almost immediately, Charles’s sulking face lightened into a grin as he turned around, took her face in his warm hands and placed a quick kiss on her lips. It was so fast, it was more appropriate to call it a peck but it had the same effect as his other kisses. Her toes curled, her smile turning wide and infectious. 

“Okay, amore,” he said when he pulled away, his smile as incandescent as hers no doubt was. His verdant eyes were almost glittering, reminding of her of leaves against the summer sun, impossibly green yet tinged blue when held up to the sky. “I will make you your coffee, just the way you like it.”

“Thank you,” and then because she couldn’t help it, “Charles.”

His answering groan was enough to give Y/N a permanent smile for the rest of the day.

[ddejavvu]

another idea!

hotch has one heck of a crush on r. but he’s trying to be super chill about it bc the only person he knows she’s dated was a woman and he’s Not gonna be that guy.

but man oh man is she cute.

so he pines quietly hoping no one notices.

but of course they do! and the team keeps trying to get them together.

something something with the line “hotch, i’m bi”

this actually melted my soul it's the bare minimum but when it comes from him i'm on my knees... hotch x bi!reader representation!!!!!

--

Aaron's fairly certain Reid didn't actually forget something at his desk. Nor that he truly needed Prentiss to walk back there with him, 'in case he got lost'. And Penelope definitely did not want to talk to Strauss. He has a sneaking suspicion they all only ducked out of the elevator to leave you two alone on the ride down, which is frustrating because he's trying to respect you.

"Any weekend plans?" He turns to you with raised brows, trying to keep conversation going and void of awkwardness.

"Uh, not really," You shake your head, smiling at him. It's hard for him to tamp down the cartwheel that his stomach does, but he knows he needs to.

"Me either," He admits, "I think I'm going to sleep in tomorrow."

"Oh, what," You scoff, lightheartedly teasing, "All the way until eight in the morning? Hotch, you went for a six A.M run on your birthday, you're incapable of sleeping in."

"That's not true!" He laughs, more genuinely than he ever would for your other teammates, "I'll make at least nine."

"Oh, wow." You nod, grin permanently etched onto your face, "And you'll still be at the coffee shop before they open."

The one by his apartment opens at ten. He briefly considers asking if you go to the same one based on the info you've given him, and then decides that there's nothing better to do with your remaining time in the elevator.

"You don't happen to go to Morning Roast, do you?"

"I do!" You turn to him with eyes lit up, "You go there too?"

"Every morning before work," He chuckles, "I guess I go too early for you."

"Oh," You huff, elbowing him gently, "Shut up. I'm not up that late."

"You came in almost half an hour late today!" He gawps at you, but where there'd typically be frustration present, there's only amusement.

"That's because some guy was flirting with me this morning and I barely escaped," You sigh, watching the numbers on the elevator screen tick down closer to G for Ground, "I swear, if one more creep tries hitting on me I'm just gonna tell him I'm gay."

Hotch stops dead.

You're not?

"Uh," He clears his throat, "Are you- you're not? I thought you mentioned an ex-girlfriend."

"Oh! Well, yeah," You nod, "But I'm bi, Hotch."

"Oh," He keeps his expression in check, even though he feels like grinning so hard his face splits in two, "I didn't know that."

"Well neither did I, for a while," You snort, and the elevator dings, the doors sliding open to showcase the lobby.

"I hope no one bothers you tomorrow," Hotch lets you exit first, following after you to the entrance of the parking garage, "Hey, if I do sleep in, maybe I'll catch you there."

"Oh, you can be my bodyguard!" You exclaim, eyes lighting up once more, "Thanks, Hotch. Okay, say, nine?"

"Eight," He grins, and revels in your groan-turned-laugh, "Fine, nine."

"See you then, bodyguard!" You click the unlock button on your car and duck inside, leaving him standing in the middle of the parking garage and smiling like a fool as you pull away.

[mattscoquette]

𝑰𝑻'𝑺 𝑨 𝑳𝑶𝑽𝑬/𝑯𝑨𝑻𝑬 𝑻𝑯𝑰𝑵𝑮 - 𝑭𝑶𝑼𝑹 | 𝑴𝑨𝑻𝑻 𝑺𝑻𝑼𝑹𝑵𝑰𝑶𝑳𝑶

𝒊𝒏 𝒘𝒉𝒊𝒄𝒉.. a quiet introverted girl attempts to befriend her popular neighbor

cursing, kissing

2.3k words

introduction 1 2 3 5 6 7

matthew sturniolo,

sat up in a hurry, awaking from his dream. he picked up his phone, looking at the time. 3:18 a.m. he rubbed his tired eyes groggily, trying to shake himself from the dream he was just having.

he was at the park late at night hand in hand with a girl. she wore baggy jeans and small tank top, an oversized black sweatshirt draped over her shoulders. she was wearing matt’s black sweatshirt. her brown hair was tucked behind her ears, falling into pretty, loose curls.

“i had so much fun tonight matt,” she whispered to him, drawing shapes on the back of his hand as they sat down on a nearby bench. she looked up at the stars, then turning to matt. “aren’t they so pretty?”

“yeah.” he breathed, looking at the girl next to him, but she was looking up at the night sky again. he couldn’t quite make out her face, until she turned to face him.

addilyn.

that’s when matt woke up. why was he dreaming about addilyn? why was he on a date with her? and why was matt’s stomach starting to do somersaults as he recalled the details from his dream? he shook his head, reaching for the water bottle he kept on his bedside table, taking a long sip. he laid back down, trying to push the dream out of his head.

*₊˚ 𓂃✧

the whole morning he was getting ready, matt was totally spaced out. his dream continued after he went back to bed in the middle of the night. so much for trying to shake it. chris took notice of matt’s out of character behavior when he nearly ran through a stop sign on their drive to school.

“dude what the fuck is wrong with you this morning?” chris yelled at his brother. matt just shook his head.

she looked so pretty. not that addilyn didn’t always look pretty, because she did. she gave matt a soft smile and rested her head on his shoulder as they sat on the park bench, hands still intertwined with one another. “i can’t believe i used to not like you.” she admitted quietly, almost to herself.

matt looked down at her as she met his eyes. “i always liked you.”

“weird dream man.” matt told his brother, looking to make sure he was in the clear before he continued driving. as they pulled into the school parking lot, they both saw addilyn and nick get off the bus together. nick stopped getting rides from matt after their argument about driving addilyn to school. matt’s stomach dropped when he saw her. she looked how she did everyday. unruly curls that were in desperate need of a new hair routine, a baggy sweatshirt and ripped jeans. but there was something about her today that was making matt’s chest heave.

get yourself together, matt, he told himself, it’s addilyn richardson.

*₊˚ 𓂃✧

to: addilyn

from: matt (neighbor)

nick and chris are bugging me, can we work on the project at your house today?

matt’s finger hovered over the blue arrow to send his message. it was a lie, he had barely even seen nick this morning, and chris was tolerable today. he just wanted an excuse to be alone with addilyn. what has gotten into him? he walked into his math class, sitting down next to nick, and clicking send.

“hey,” his brother said, “you ready for our game tomorrow?”

matt’s face dropped. he’d been so caught up in his project this week he forgot all about his hockey game. he tried to save himself, giving nick a nod. “y-yeah man, of course i am.”

“good,” nick replied, “cause i invited addy.”

of fucking course.

*₊˚ 𓂃✧

matt drove addilyn home today. at first she was taken aback by his offer, but thought nothing of it when he said “normally i wouldn’t let you in my car, but it’s only because i’m coming over to your house.” classic matt. they parked in the triplets driveway dropping nick and chris off. addilyn got out, not even waiting for matt to follow, before making her way over to her front door.

matt caught up to her, about to make a remark on her leaving him in the car, when his words got caught in his throat.

“my parents aren’t home right now, they’ll both be at work until later tonight.” she said to matt, looking over her shoulder at him as she unlocked the door, letting the brunette boy into her house.

why was she saying this to him? was it just to let him know or did it mean more? matt shook his head. he was reading into it too much. and besides, it’s addilyn. nothing special. just addilyn. plain and simple. they got up into her room, matt closing the door behind them.

“do you want the bed or desk?” she inquired, putting her bag down and taking her notebook out. matt looked around, taking in his surroundings. it was so empty, it didn’t even look lived in. he tried to think of something mean to say, but his mind drew a blank.

“matt.” her voice broke him out of his thoughts.

“uh, sorry. i’ll sit on the bed.” he told her, awkwardly scratching the back of his neck. he wasn't sure why he was so nervous, they’ve seen each other every day this week. and everyday was the same, she was her usual quiet self until matt began picking on her, then they would argue. she would call him a dickhead and he’d call her annoying, calling it a night after a few hours of going back and forth. but today felt different, and matt didn’t know if he liked it or not.

“okay, me too.” addilyn smiled sweetly at him. matt felt his knees go weak. she sat down at the edge of her bed, pulling her notes and computer into her lap. matt found home beside her, trying to keep a distance between the two of them.

“so i was looking at different materials we can use for our project in lunch today, this is what i found.” addilyn explained, opening a tab on her computer. matt was sat a good foot away from her, and could barely see the screen. addilyn noticed. “scoot over a little.”

“whatever.” he sighed, but matt still obeyed, shifting himself so he was sat directly next to addilyn. he could smell the scent of her shampoo mixed with perfume, smelling sweetly of fresh flowers and coconut. she titled the screen towards matt more.

“what do you think?” she breathed, turning to face him. matt looked down at her.

matt looked down at her as she met his eyes. “i always liked you.”

“you have?” she smiled at him. he was so close to her, he could see every detail of her face. the way her eyes glimmered in the moonlight. the light freckles that danced across her nose and light pink cheeks. she looked so pretty.

“yeah.” matt breathed. he slowly dipped his head down, catching his lips with hers softly. she kissed him back, tasting of watermelon chapstick and bubblegum. she tilted her head slightly, cupping his face delicately with her hand. matt smiled into the kiss.

“matt.” her voice bringing him back into the present. he felt his knee brushing against hers. this was going to be a long session.

*₊˚ 𓂃✧

matt ended up staying over for a good four hours. they were actually productive and worked well together when they weren’t busy arguing with one another. addilyn noticed the change in matt’s demeanor, and brushed it off as him being tired. he was never this nice to her. addilyn wasn’t sure if nice was a good word to describe matt tonight. she would probably say something like spacey, or aloof. but they weren’t arguing, and that’s all that was important to her.

around 8:00, matt decided to call it a night. he needed to sleep well before is game tomorrow, and he couldn’t handle another five minutes alone with addilyn in her room. she was sitting a little too close to him, smiling too nicely, and looked too pretty. matt was losing his mind.

“do you want me to walk you down?” addilyn asked matt, closing her laptop, and turned to face him on the bed. matt shook his head no. “okay, well, i’ll see you tomorrow at your game.”

matt smiled weakly at her, wishing her a goodnight. he quickly packed up his belongings, leaving her room in rather a hurry. again, addilyn observed matt’s weird change in attitude today and waved to him as he left. she didn’t want to get her hopes up and think he was finally being nice to her. but she would admit that she actually liked being around matt tonight. he was kind of sweet when he wasn’t calling her every name in the book.

addilyn broke away from her thoughts when she saw matt’s bedroom light flick on. she looked up at him, finding he was already looking at her first. unlike every night this week, matt smiled at her. actually smiled, from ear to ear, and waved to addilyn. she smiled back at him, closing her blinds.

*₊˚ 𓂃✧

addilyn richardson,

stepped off the public transport bus, heading towards the ice rink. nick and chris’s game started at 2:30p.m., and she had just barely made it, getting there at 2:27. she hurried inside, making her way down the bleachers to sit with the triplet’s parents and older brother. she was nervous, to say the least. she’d never gone to a school game before, yet here she was, sitting in the very first row of her high schools hockey arena to watch them play their biggest rivals. somerville was considered a small town outside of boston, but it was a big enough town to have two high schools. addilyn looked around, seeing all her classmates sitting on the opposite side of the bleachers, all dressed head to toe in their school colors.

the buzzer buzzed, signaling the start of the period. the announcer began talking over the speakers that surrounded the arena, introducing both the teams. he announced away team first, and then the somerville team. addilyn watched in amazement as he named each player as they skated out onto the ice. the announcer called out chris, nick, and then matt, and addilyn watched as they all skated around the rink, waving to her and their family. she could have sworn in the split second matt passed her, he smiled at her.

after matt left addilyn’s last night, she could not stop thinking about him. she tossed and turned in her bed, replaying the way he looked at her, like he was absorbing every word she spoke. normally, he wouldn’t even look at her when she talked, but last night it was as if he was studying her face, trying to remember every detail of it like he’d be quizzed the next day on it. she realized in the overhead lighting of her bedroom how blue his eyes really were. it took anyone with a pair of working eyes to see matt was attractive, but addilyn felt she saw a secret side of him while he was up in her room. she noticed small details about him, like how he constantly felt the need to run his hands through his hair while he spoke, or how he bit his nails a lot when he listened to someone talk.

she watched the game intently, making small conversation with the triplets’ family. matt, nick, and chris were all really good hockey players. addilyn was stunned at how flawlessly they glided over the ice, passing the puck back and forth, barely even having to look up at one another. there was about a minutes left in the third period, and both teams were neck and neck, tied at 2. the rival team had the puck, and were heading towards the goal at top speed. the player who had the puck attempted to shoot, but matt extended his stick out, blocking it from reaching the goal. he quickly skated around the attacker, passing the puck to chris, who was playing as a center. chris skated as quickly as he could to the goal, passing the puck to nick who was near the goal at the last second as the defense from the other team swarmed chris, trying to posses the puck once more. the puck slid across the ice directly into nick’s stick, and he made his shot, the puck meeting the back of the opposing teams net as the buzzer went off and the game ended.

the somervile side of the arena erupted in cheers, everyone jumping up and down, hugging one another. addilyn watched chris and matt practically run over to nick across the ice, wrapping him into a huge hug, and the rest of their team joining the brothers. as the team split apart, chris, nick, and matt all skated over to where their parents resided with addilyn.

“you boys did amazing!” their mom gushed, blowing them each a kiss on the other side of the glass. addilyn nodded in agreement with her.

“i’m so happy you came, addy!” nick expressed, glancing over his shoulder watching the rest of the team skate off the ice and heading to the locker room.

“yeah, you need to come to our next one too.” chris told her, smiling wildly, putting his arms around his brothers.

“is she coming to lunch with us?” matt asked his brothers kind of quietly, as if he didn’t want to make it known to addilyn that he was asking about her. he looked over at his two brothers, breaking away from chris’ embrace.

the two boys looked at matt as if he had another head. was he actually inviting her somewhere? normally it would be the other way around, with matt huffing and puffing about having to spend more time than necessary with her. but matt was looking at chris and nick with a small look of plea in his eyes. chris turned to look at addilyn.

“come get lunch with us?” chris offered to addilyn, who stood still. she didn’t know if she could handle another day of being so close to matt if he wasn’t being mean to her. it was driving her crazy. but it was the good kind of crazy, that was making her stomach churn when he would smile at something, or make her hands clammy if they accidentally brushed with his to retrieve a pencil.

it's just matt, addy. the same matt who calls you annoying and a waste of his time, she tried convincing herself, he doesn't even like you.

“y-yeah, i'll go out with you guys. ” she nodded slowly. all three of the triplets grinned back at her.

© mattscoquette

𝐚/𝐧: PART FOURRRRR its starting to get so good ! this chapter is kinda shorter than i wanted but i didn't wanna make it too long lmfao. also i don't watch hockey so idk how to write it 😭😭 as always, i hope u all enjoy and if anyone wants to be on the tag list lmk!!! i love u all <333

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: @alorsxsturn @sturniolossss @cammie4298 @bussybandit1 @amorttentia @franticroads @sturnsssbow @cams5sos @strombolilovr @st7rnioioss @junnniiieee07 @mattscurlygirly @simply-a-simper

[xoxoxkisses]

School crisis

Muichiro x fem!reader

warnings:none

info: it’s the first day of school and reader gets her period unexpectedly, she isn’t prepared for it so she has nothing to use, but luckily a boy walks by.

a/n: Ik muichiro doesn’t have a sister, but let’s pretend he does in this 😊 ————————————————————————

The first day was already tiring and you still had 4 hours left. You had a free period, so you just roamed the halls. You had felt some lower back pain and cramps, but you thought it was just meaning your period was coming soon.

You went to the restroom, and when you went to do your business, you saw red splotches in your underwear. You groaned annoyingly. What were you supposed to do now? Unfortunately it had bled through your pants also, so now you couldn’t leave the bathroom. You looked out the door way to see if anyone was coming so you could run to the nurse. When you looked to your left, you noticed a boy walking. You knew it was awkward to ask him for help, but it was better than walking in the hallways with bloody pants.

The boy was Muichiro Tokito, who was known as the popular boy in previous years. He would be the last person you’d ever ask for help, but right now he was the first. As he was about to pass the restrooms, you stopped him. “Excuse me!” He turned his head ti look at you, puzzled on why you would ask for him. “Yes?” You bit your lip in embarrassment as your eyes roamed the floor. “I um,” you pointed at your pants, “well I think you get it.” He continued to look at you until it looked like something clicked in his head. “Oh, here let me see what I have.” He twisted his backpack around infront of his body as he searched through it.

After a few moments, he found the pad that was in his bag. He held it out to you. “Here, this should work.” Your eyes lit up as he handed you the pad. You felt like your worries were gone. “Thank you so much!” You took it from him as you slithered back into the restroom.

Not too long after, you came out of the restroom. To your surprise, you saw Muichiro still standing outside. “What are you doing?” He glanced over at you before he turned to you fully. “Well, I saw when you had turned around that you had bled through your pants, so here.” He took off his hoodie and handed it to you to put on. You took it hesitantly, but put it on quickly. He still stood there even though you were covered. The two of you stood in silence until you broke it.

“Do you have free period right now?” He nodded. “Well, thank you, again.” “It’s no problem really. Hey do you want to walk around with me?” You stared at him for what seemed like forever. You hesitated slightly before you agreed to walk with him.

As the two of you walked in a comfortable silence, there was something gnawing at you. “Muichiro, why did you have a pad on you?” You looked at the ground and fumbled with your fingers until you heard a low chuckle. “I have an older sister, so she taught me about them and told me to carry some incase of situations like this.” You felt a little dumb, him having a sister was so obvious. How else would he know what to do? “Ohh, well that makes sense.” You chuckled to yourself.

The two of you continued to walk around until the next bell rung. When it did, the two of you split up. While you were in class, a lot of people kept asking you how you got his hoodie and if you two were dating. You brushed them off the whole time, but you couldn’t help but think about him the entire class. Muichiro was also thinking about you his whole class. A small friendship had blossomed over an unusual circumstance.

————————————————————————

oh. my. gosh. Guys school actually sucked so bad today I never want to go back 😭

[talaok]

Hi🌻

Can you please write a pedro×reader where they are fighting really seriously and suddenly kisses the reader and things get spicy...

And if it's no bother can you please make it long

Pairing: Pedro pascal x reader

Warnings: angst and allusion to smut

11:32 pm

Another day, and another night alone.

Something was playing on the tv, but you had stopped paying attention a while ago.

The streetlamp across the street felt more interesting than anything a screen had to offer.

The road was deserted, and the house across from yours had all the lights off,

It's a Friday night, they're probably out. You can almost picture them at that cute bar in town, holding each other's hands while talking about their respective days. 

It must be nice, to be a perfect couple, to have someone to go home to every day, to not wake up and go to sleep in an empty bed.

But there you were.

Yes, you knew what you had gotten yourself into, you knew about the long hours, the need to move every six months, the hectic lifestyle, you knew about all of it... but still, nothing could have ever prepared you for the loneliness that came with it.

And what angered you was that maybe it wouldn't have been that bad, if he only talked to you once in a while, a real talk, a conversation starting with a simple "how are you doing?"

So that you could tell him how you were really doing.

But no, every time you were together now, you either had sex or both of you were too tired to finally have that conversation.

It had been a whole month now of that god-awful routine, and you were sick of it.

Tonight you were gonna talk, whether he wanted to or not

A click sounded to your left as the door opened.

"Hi," he said more like a question, a clear hint of his confusion.

You were never awake when he got home.

"Hi" 

"what are you doing up?"

You stood from the couch, as he took off his jacket and tossed it on the hanger.

"I was waiting for you"

"yeah?" he smirked, his eyes glinting with a suggestive tint.

"We need to talk"

"oh" he breathed, clearly disappointed "about what?"

You were now in front of him, taking in the scruffy beard that had just recently gotten some streaks of white matching his hair. 

The evidence of the years passed could be seen all across his face, except his eyes, of course, the same big hazel ones you fell in love with.

"Scarily expressive" you had told him the first time you met, and never a day had gone by that you hadn't stood by it.

You were sure that he could stop talking any day and his eyes would do the rest without any problems whatsoever.

And now, now what they conveyed was tiredness, mixed with confusion.

"You're never home Pedro" 

there, plain and simple.

He sighed now, getting where this was heading, he could have acted clueless all he wanted, but he too, knew this conversation was long overdue.

"Y/n I'm tired, can we do this another time?"

"When?" you scoffed "We never see each other! It's like I live alone Pedro, how do you think that makes me feel?"

"Listen it's not my decision, I have to work" he muttered, walking to the bedroom and leaving you behind like a useless piece of trash.

"I know it's not, but do you even try? How long has it been since you've taken a day off? Hell, even a morning off?" You trailed behind him.

Once again: You were gonna talk today.

"What would you rather I do? Stop working?" he asked, condescending as ever, turning to face you as he took his shoes off.

"No! I'm just saying you could try a little harder to be home more often"

"I was home yesterday!"

"Yeah at 5:30 pm and you invited Mike over"

"what's wrong with Mike being here?"

"Nothing just- we never have a moment to ourselves anymore"

"Well I'm sorry if I want to see my friends too"

"I'm not saying that you shouldn't, just- God, you never listen to me!" you snapped, throwing your hands to your sides

"When was the last time that we had breakfast together? Or that we went on a date, huh?"

This time he stayed silent

"exactly" you sighed "We're supposed to spend time together Pedro, for fuck's sake we're a couple!"

"Once again y/n, I have to work"

"Are you kidding me!?" you closed your fists by your side as you shut your eyes trying to calm down "Pedro have you listened to a fucking word I sai-"

What the fuck?

His lips were on yours.

"what are you doing?"

"Did you know you're really hot when you're mad?" he smirked, holding your waist

"shut up. I'm trying to have a serious conversation"

"nobody's stopping you" he murmured sultry, his mouth founding your neck.

God, you hated the whimper leaving your mouth

"A-All I'm trying to say is that you could try to be home more o-often"

"Mh-mh" he hummed against your neck, his beard scratching it ever so deliciously.

"Y-you're not-" you let out a sigh as he began sucking the skin beneath your ear "You're not listening to me"

"I am. go on" he urged, biting at your earlobe and causing a gasp to your throat.

"fuck-Pedro..." you warned 

"What sweetheart?" 

"I know what you're doing, t-this is not going to work"

And at that, the bastard chuckled, the vibrations of his voice going straight to your core.

"Funny you say that, baby," a wicked grin pulled at his lips as your eyes met his "'cause I think it already has"

"No it hasn't"

"no?" he whispered "Then how do you explain this?" he asked as his fingers reached the wet patch on your panties.

"God you're really..." you gritted, a mixture of anger and arousal coursing through you.

"What angel?" he ghosted your mouth "What am I?"

"you're an asshole"

A huffed laugh fled his mouth "And yet, you're gonna let me fuck you"

You bit your lip, trying to clear your mind

"We're still gonna talk later"

"Sure, sweetheart, whatever you want"

... 

(I just proof-read this and I realized I might have interpreted the request kind of wrong. You meant an enemies to lovers kinda thing didn't you? If you did I'm genuinely sorry)

[animeangel21]

Gym day.

Summary: in which you go to the gym with your significant other cause he wanted you to join. He failed to mention just how many women actually ogle him when he’s there and you just have to prove a point and show that he’s all yours.

-slightly suggestive content nothing too extreme!

Starts below the cut

———————————————————————————

Enjoy.

You’d finally found the time to go to the gym with him and never really went cause it was quite boring to you. You used to go a lot at first when you met him and once he started working and staying out late at night he had to start going in the morning.

You both would go at night when it was empty and less people around which gave him the opportunity to mess around with you from time to time, smacking your ass while you squat, pretending to bang you when you’d bend over and pick something up or while you were stretching, all the dumb shit.

“It’s not that bad baby, kakucho will be there, plus you can do what all those other women do and just run on the treadmill and talk shit, or ogle me” he said and you smacked his shoulder.

“Hey! First of all, they better not ogle you and I didn’t wake up this early to run on a treadmill I will walk though.” He just shrugged his shoulders and tapped his fingers on the steering wheel.

“They do ogle me and it’s fucking weird I ignore them though and it makes them very mad.” He said laughing as he pulled into a parking space.

“Yeah well if they do it today I’ll make sure they find another gym.” You laughed with him as well while getting out the car.

He watched you walk in as he got out and you turned around and winked at him. He stared at you in a black zip up jacket and grey leggings that accentuated all your curves that could make any woman in there jealous.

You scanned your little membership card and walked to the locker room to put your belongings away. You saw many women stare at you as you did but kept your head down with a smirk as you folded your zip up and left the cropped long sleeve shirt on. You slipped your sneakers on, grabbed your water bottle and clicked the lock shut and stuffed the key into your pocket.

Once you were on the treadmill so you could warm up before doing anything else you put it on a slow setting, put your headphones in and hit shuffle.

You looked over towards the weights and you could see Rindou spotting kakucho while he was on the bench press.

Maybe he was right, I could ogle him from here and no wonder these women did it too.

You felt a tap on your shoulder and you could see a woman on the treadmill next to you. “Sorry to bother, he’s good looking right?” She said and nodded her head in rindous direction.

“Heh, yeah he is I guess.” You said playing along just to see how far you could go with it.

“Good luck with that one, he’s hard headed, doesn’t respond, might have a type.” She tried to size you up subtly with a smile.

“Maybe, have you tried approaching him yourself? Or did he just ignore you?” You asked trying to sound as genuine as possible while trying not to laugh.

“Yeah, he didn’t say anything but just looked away I think I made him nervous. Like I said, he may have a type.” She shrugged her shoulders. She was a bit taller than you, very thin, long dark hair. You smirked to yourself. This was too easy.

“Hmm, you think I could?” You said and she looked over and kinda scoffed.

“I don’t know lets see, go on.” She said and you paused the treadmill and laughed to yourself while walking over.

Him and kakucho were just standing there and you looked back to see the girl whispering to 2 other girls and another 2 watching as well.

You tapped him on the shoulder and slowly slid your hand down his back. “Baby, do me a favor and try to act like you don’t know me but those girls really do think I couldn’t get your number or talk to you so, I think I gotta show em how it’s done.” He just looked down and smiled “ you’re an asshole”

“ I know, can I please get your number though? I think we should go on a date tonight?” You said and he slipped his phone out his pocket and placed it in your hand and he grabbed your phone from your pocket without hesitation.

“Never told me you had a boyfriend? Whose this man that’s your wallpaper y/n?” He said while laughing at you.

“You dork.”

“Let this dork kiss you so that way those hags can stop glaring at us.” He smirked and wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled you into a deep loving kiss.

His hand started to slip and he gave your buttcheek a squeeze.

“Okay too much.” Kakucho said and grabbed your man by the back of his shirt and pulled him away.

You tossed him his phone back and walked over to the shocked group of women.

“How did you..?” She said kinda disappointed.

“Maybe, try asking if he’s in a relationship first, we’ve been dating for a few years now. And he really isn’t all that interested in anyone who isn’t me.” You said simply putting your headphones back in and continuing your warm up.

[steddieunderdogfics]

This week’s writer spotlight feature is:  Sidekick_Hero! @sidekick-hero has 82 works on AO3 in the Stranger Things fandom and 80 of them are in the Steddie tag!

@steddieas-shegoes recommends the following works by Sidekick_Hero:

I wore his jacket for the longest time

Suitcase of Memories

to the rhythm of eternity

Will you cleanse me with pleasure?

Sandy is an incredible writer and always manages to paint beautiful scenes regardless of rating or situation. She was one of the first authors I found in the fandom who really captured so many things about Steve and Eddie that I love. She continues to inspire me constantly! -- @steddieas-shegoes

Below the cut, @sidekick-hero answered some questions about their writing process and some of their recommended work!

Why do you write Steddie?

Great question! I'd been out of fandom and on a writing hiatus since 2016, the spark had just left me. Until early 2023, when I wanted to give Tumblr and fandom another try, but nothing really clicked until late summer when this wild-haired, bambi-eyed guy started popping up on my dash more and more. I fell in love with Eddie first, looked him up, and found that people were shipping him with this Steve character. I've never seen Stranger Things. I went to AO3 looking for some fic and the rest, as they say, is history. I fell in love with this ship the way you fall asleep, slowly, imperceptibly, and then all at once. I think what drew me in is these two characters who are so different from each other on the outside that you'd never think they'd work, but the closer you look, the more you can see how well they would fit, how good they could be for each other, bringing out the best in each other.

What’s your favorite trope to READ?

Wow, so many. I actually love the range of tropes this fandom offers. I'm a big fan of modern aus, especially ones where one or both are famous. If it's canon-based, I'm a sucker for Kas!Eddie. In general, I love it when one or both are creatures of any kind. I also love friends with benefits fics because they are idiots. Enemies to Lovers and Fake Dating are also high on my list. Last but not least: Porn with feelings and hurt/comfort.

What’s your favorite trope to WRITE?

That's tough. I enjoy writing all kinds of smutty tropes as one-shots. When there's more plot going on, I really enjoy the "exes to friends to lovers" trope, just because as someone in their 30s, I look back on past relationships and hookups and realize what went wrong and how it could be different today, and I think that's something I can relate to a lot when I'm writing it for Steddie. I also love writing about second chances in general.

What’s your favorite Steddie fic?

It’s impossible to pick just one, sorry. I give you three with the disclaimer that there are so many more I could - and probably would - have picked on a different day. But I wanted to share some older ones in the spirit of what this blog is all about. the most remarkable thing about you standing in the doorway is that it’s you by greatunironic Keep it Steady, Eddie by outofmygourd Love blooms, love hurts, love prevails by corrodedbisexual (mishabawlins)

Is there a trope you’re excited to explore in a future work but haven’t yet?

Yes! I definitely want to explore some fantasy/creature fics (more outside of a pwp I wrote with Lake Creature Eddie), I already have the idea for Werewolf!Steve, and I really want to try my hand at Vampire!Eddie. I'm also super excited to finally get to work on a fake-dating trope fic for the summer exchange, I've been dying to do that. Last but not least, I really want to try writing an omega!verse at some point, I just don't have an idea yet.

What is your writing process like?

Pretty straightforward, I guess? It never really feels like a process, to be honest. I have an idea and I let it grow in my head (daydreaming, my beloved) until it has grown enough to become an actual fic, and then I sit down and write it out chronologically. Before I start writing, I need to know a few things about the story. I don't usually work with outlines or anything like that, but in my head I know where it starts, what the emotional beats and major plot points are, and how I want it to end. The rest I let unfold as I write. That's why I'm not the fastest writer (plus the whole not-native-English thing). Often the story tells me where it wants to go, so as long as I have the cornerstones, I let it flow.

Do you have any writing quirks?

Not sure if these are quirks, but my sentences tend to be very wordy. My dear friend @yournowheregirl used to comment on my fics when she beta-read them, "Another Sandy sentence. Make it multiple sentences." Also, I only write in present tense, even though I know most people prefer past tense, but it's too hard for me. Other than that, I can't have too many WIPs, I have to finish one story before I can start another.

Do you prefer posting when you’ve finished writing or on a schedule?

Post when I'm done writing, for sure. I hate waiting, I have the patience of a toddler.

Which fic are you most proud of?

I wore his jacket for the longest time, no question.  It's still so precious to me, especially because I got to write it with my platonic writing soulmate @legitcookie, but also because I got to really explore these characters and their growth in this story. It has so much of me in it and I'm really proud of how it turned out.

How did you get the idea for I wore his jacket for the longest time?

Actually, it wasn't all me. I just had this idea of them being kind of friends with benefits, but Eddie wants more than Steve is willing to give him, so they hook up one last time before Eddie sends Steve away for good. That was the original idea that inspired the prequel "we pass the ghosts that haunt us later". The idea for that actually came from a song, "we can never be friends" by mgk. Jen (legitcookie) would not accept the ambiguous (sad) ending, so she demanded that we fix it. So we decided to find a way to let them both grow as people apart and then rebuild their friendship, because only then would they have a real foundation for their second chance.

When writing I wore his jacket for the longest time, what was something you didn’t expect?

How much fun it would be to develop those OC side-characters, especially Mrs. Horowitz but also fucking Tom or even Fritz. It was also the very first time I collaborated with someone on a fic and I was a bit apprehensive if this would work out so I was surprised when I discovered how much I love writing with someone else.

What inspired to the rhythm of eternity?

My love for London, really. I am madly in love with this city and have explored it a lot, so I wanted to use my experiences in a fic. And when @tboygareth asked for a long distance relationship fic for our server holiday exchange, I knew this was my chance. Their meeting as well as the ending is heavily based on my own experiences.

What was your favorite part to write from Suitcase of Memories?

The dreams! They were so much fun to explore because there's a certain mood I wanted to set with them, that dreamy feeling mixed with events from another time period. Their first date and especially their first kiss is a close second, though, because the swing set scene is something I've been thinking about since I saw 13 going on 30 as a teenager.

How do/did you feel writing Suitcase of Memories?

To be totally honest, a bit stressed 😀 It was my first big bang and I was so glad to have Jen by my side, but then real life happened and I realized it's hard to write on deadline. BUT I still love this fic. Especially the theme of love as a choice, even if some cosmic interference gives you a second chance, you still have to WANT it, you still have to work for it and choose it, over and over again. I feel like we nailed that pretty well and I'm proud of us and this story.

What was the most difficult part of writing Will you cleanse me with pleasure??

The emotional setup, because it was a gift for Ger (@steves-strapcollection) and he wanted them to be disgustingly in love, but I also needed Eddie's condition to be something he kept from Steve at first for fear of losing him. Besides that, the logistics, really. So many tentacles, man. So many.

Do you have a favorite scene and/or line from any of your fics?

Okay, some very, very self-indulgent scenes I wrote are for my Runner!Steve verse. I am a passionate runner, and it was so much fun to write that love for Steve and to geek out about it in my writing. Another scene I'm very fond of is from my very first ST fic, "I'm tired of asking to settle the debt," and it's a scene where they're both kids and meeting for the first time, it's winter, and Eddie is doing an impression of a dragon with his breath.

Do you have any upcoming projects or fics you’d like to share/promote?

Well, by the time this comes out, I will have posted my reverse big bang fic "Emotional Motion Sickness" with art by the amazing @arimakes. There's also the summer exchange, in which I was lucky enough to claim my dear friend @starryeyedjanai's prompt, and the steddie big bang 2024. I'm also finishing the last chapter of "hold me close (I'm shaking apart)" and hope to post it soon. 

Outside of these questions, Is there anything YOU would like to add?

Yes, I want to thank everyone for making this project possible! This fandom has grown so much and there is so much amazing fic that easily gets buried under all the content, so having this project to give the writers of this fandom some visibility and love is precious to me. Thank you, really 💜🙏 Also, all my love to every single writer out there - you make my life and the lives of so many better by sharing your gift with us.

Thank you to our author,  Sidekick_Hero, and our nominator,  @steddieas-shegoes on tumblr! See more of Sidekick_Hero's works featured on our page throughout the day!

Writer’s Spotlight is every Wednesday! Want to nominate an author? You can nominate them here!

[rollingsins]

all hers, part viii

part i | part ii | part iii | part iv | part v | part vi | part vii | part viii | part ix | part x | part xi | part xii | part xiii | part xiv | part xv | part xvi | part xvii | part xviii | part xix | part xx | part xxi | part xxii | part xxiii | part xxiv | part xxv | part xxvi | epilogue

summary: Wes is acting weird. Weirder than usual. Ghostface!Tara

warnings: (+18), ghostface!tara, possessive behaviors, murder of an established character. 

word count: 4k

a/n: peep the murder warning for this one, thought we’d get stabby again ;) as always, thanks so much for the love and let me know what you want to see next!

Wes is acting weird. Weirder than usual. 

You’ve felt it ever since the night of Amber’s party. He had always been one of Tara’s quieter friends. Shy, almost. But he was sweet, and he’d always had a lot in common with Tara. They both liked those awful, gory horror movies. Video-games. They had the same taste in food and in books. In fact, out of all of Tara’s friends, you think you liked Wes the most. He’d been the first to welcome you into the group when you’d started dating Tara, and he always went out of his way to make you feel like you belonged. 

But over the past week he’d been acting even stranger. 

It had started in the cafeteria on Monday, when you’d arrived late to lunch and climbed into your usual spot in Tara’s lap. He’d watched you close as you’d kissed her softly, fed her the last of your grapes. He was just lonely, you figured. He wanted a girlfriend of his own, maybe. 

But then Tuesday he’d looked down at your entwined hands in the hall and made a face. Something you couldn’t quite place in his expression. 

Wednesday he’d left the table the moment you and Tara sat down. 

And Thursday he spent the entire biology lesson staring at the back of Tara’s head. And something clicked. 

“Wes has a crush on you.” You tell Tara that night. She’s in the kitchen, one hand stirring the potatoes, the other minding the chicken. You’d been thinking about it all afternoon. Stewing about it all afternoon. The idea of him and her made your stomach writhe with hot, wanton jealousy. 

Tara looks up at you for a moment. Then, she quirks her eyebrow and snorts. 

“It’s not funny.” You tell her, smacking her arm gently. 

“Why on earth would you think that?” She asks. She’s amused, you can tell by the sparkle in her eyes. You’re not laughing. 

“I caught him staring at you today.” You say, “All through biology. He couldn’t take his eyes off you.” 

She stirs the chicken, a smile playing on her lips. 

“Maybe he was daydreaming.” She suggests, a little wry. 

“Babe. He wasn’t daydreaming. He was staring. He has a crush on you.” 

Tara puts down her spoon, reaches for you. 

“Wes doesn’t have a crush on me,” Tara assures. She pulls you into her, presses a gentle kiss to your forehead. “He’s like my brother. You have nothing to worry about.” 

She makes her point with a kiss. Strokes the hair out of your eyes. 

“It’s not you I’m worried about.” You mumble. You feel hot, a little tingly. It had been hard for you at first to understand why Tara got so angry when she thought someone liked you. You think you understand it now. Anger burns under your skin. Anger towards him. 

“Stop worrying.” She kisses you once more. Retracts to go back to her cooking, “Wes is harmless. And he doesn’t like me. I’ve known him forever.” 

It feels unfair, the way she’s allowed to brush this off so easily. Your mind can’t help but wander. Dan. Sam. Sadie. Chase. Amber. All with one thing in common. 

“If he had a crush on me, you’d have killed him by now.” You don’t often bring it up, the elephant in the room. It was unspoken between you. Like if you didn’t talk about it, it didn’t exist. 

Tara looks up at you. She isn’t smiling anymore.  

“That’s different.” She says, quiet. Your lip twitches. 

“How?” 

“You know how.” 

You do know how. She’d explained it, one night when you were entwined and your curiosity had gotten the better of you. The Rage, she’d called it. She described the feeling. Hot, ever-present, like burning bright fury coursing through her veins. 

“Well, maybe that’s how I’m feeling right now.” 

It feels like a low blow, the moment the words leave your lips. If you were honest, you had no idea what The Rage felt like. This was something different. Something less. Insecurity, maybe. Jealousy. You didn’t want Wes thinking of your girlfriend the way only you were supposed to. 

“So what are you saying?” Tara asks, “You want to kill him? You want me to kill him?”

You hesitate a moment. 

“No. Of course not.”

“Good.” She says. There’s tension in her shoulders. She stirs the potatoes, a little more violently, “Because I won’t. He’s my friend.” 

She points her spatula at you, accusingly, “And besides, you made me promise-”

“I know.” You cut her off. Rub your eyes, “I’m sorry. Forget it. I don’t know why I said that.” 

You lean into her, press your forehead to her shoulder. She’s tense. You press your lips to the back of her neck, trying to soothe her. Trying to apologize. 

“You’re right, he was probably daydreaming.” You say and she relaxes. 

Wes isn’t in school the next day. It’s still there in the back of your mind, the idea that he wants your girlfriend. You try to shake it, the horrible feeling of suspicion that seeps into your bones. He has no chance with her even if he does like her, you tell yourself, She loves you. She wants you. 

If nothing else you can believe that. 

It’s Friday, date night, and Tara’s taking you out to a new place that opened up a couple of towns over. You want to wear something special, look nice for her, so you insist she drives you back to your house so you can grab your outfit after school. She parks in her usual spot, down a small side street so your dad doesn’t see her and switches off the engine. 

“I’ll only be five minutes.” You tell her, leaning over the console of the car to kiss her, “Thanks, baby.” 

And you exit the car and dash up to the house.  

Your dad isn’t home, a small blessing, so you make your way upstairs and rifle through your closet, looking for the dress you want. 

Not a minute later, someone is ringing your doorbell. 

When you answer, it’s Wes standing at the door. 

He looks terrible. Dark circles under his eyes. He’s jittery, nervous. He swallows when he sees you. 

“YN.” His voice is serious, “Can I come in?” 

This is it, you think as he plays with the can of soda you’ve offered him, he’s about to tell me he’s going to make a play for my girlfriend. 

He’s refused your offer to sit down so you stand, watching as he paces back and forth through your kitchen. 

Your stomach writhes, that familiar feeling of jealousy sinking in. 

Tara will rebuff him. 

It’s that voice in your head, trying to calm you. 

But then again, what if she doesn’t?

Wes sits. Flattens his hands on the table. His knee is bouncing, nervous. He looks as though he might throw up. 

“I have to tell you something.” 

You blink back at him. Grit your teeth. 

“Alright.” 

You wait, but he takes a minute. Decent of him to pay you a visit, you think briefly, as decent as a person could be when he’s about to try and steal your girlfriend from you. Your mind flashes to all those times he’d been with her alone. Taking her to the cinema to watch whatever latest slasher was showing. Talking for hours with her about the importance of elevated horror over a plate of fries at the local diner. You wonder if that’s how he’d fallen for her. A beautiful girl talking animatedly with him about a bunch of teenagers who’d been carved up by a masked killer. 

If only he knew.  

“I don’t want you to freak out.” Wes says. His eyes are wide, earnest. “I’ve thought really long and hard about this and I wanted to come here first. You deserve the truth.” 

He runs a hand through his bleached hair. He’s handsome, you suppose. You could see the appeal. They’d make an attractive couple. Your heart clenches painfully at the thought. 

Tara loves you. Tara’s killed for you. Tara doesn’t want him. 

The voice is back. You’re grateful for it. Wes could tell Tara he wanted her until he was blue in the face, it wouldn’t make a lick of a difference. 

“Wes-” You say. You think for a moment, trying to pick your words carefully, “I know what you’re going to say. And-”

“You don’t.” Wes says. His leg is bouncing again, “Please, YN. I need to get this out now or I won’t be able to say it.”  

You stare. 

“Do you remember that party a few weeks back? The night Amber died?” His voice is shaky, uneven. You frown. That’s when Wes realized he was in love with Tara? The night one of his best friends was being murdered? 

“Of course.” You say. 

Your phone buzzes in your hand. You look down at it, see Tara’s name flash across the screen. 

almost done babygirl? not getting any younger over here. 

“Is that Tara? Don’t answer it.” Wes says, voice urgent. “Please.” 

You put your phone on the counter. 

“Wes, I have dinner reservations. Whatever you need to say-” 

“My mom has this theory.” He interrupts, “I’ve overheard her talking about before. The attacks, they’re not random. They’re all connected.” 

Something niggles at you in the pit of your stomach. 

“I’m confused.” You say, “What are we talking about?”

“Amber made a pass at you that night.” Wes continues on as if he didn’t hear you, “In front of all of us, do you remember?”

Your stomach flips. Wes is staring at you, his eyes wild. Suddenly, you think you’ve got everything wrong. 

“Yes.” You say, voice low, “So what?” 

“Sadie was your ex-girlfriend. Chase was your best friend.” Wes says, “Everyone knew he liked you. Including Tara.” 

The room’s getting smaller, closing in. You press your hand to the counter, suddenly wishing you’d sat down. 

“The other two - I don’t know, maybe they liked you. Maybe you had a thing with one of them at some point.” He’s rambling but you can barely hear him. “I think they were killed because they liked you. Same with Sadie, same with Chase, same with Amber.” 

The blood’s rushing to your head. You grip the counter so hard your fingers turn white. 

Wes doesn’t seem to notice. He takes another shaky breath, looks you straight in the eyes. 

“I think Ghostface is killing people who are connected to you.” He says. “YN, I think Tara is Ghostface.”

The room spins. The hair on the back of your neck rises tall. Every atom in your body courses thick, fast, in a mesh of panic and fear and confusion. 

He knows. 

His eyes are wide, desperate to convince you. 

“Please don’t panic.” He says. He rises, reaches for you. His hands press hard around your forearms. Your face is white, he must see how you look as if you might pass out. 

“I know it sounds crazy. I know it’s a shock. But I’m certain. I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t certain.” 

Your mouth opens, then closes. You have questions, so many questions. You want to know how he knows, what he knows. You want to know everything. You don’t know how to ask. 

“Have you told anyone else?” The most pressing question spills from your mouth before you can stop it. His mom is the sheriff, god, his mom is the sheriff. If she knows it’s over. Tara will be in a cell by sunset. 

He shakes his head, wildly, “No. I wanted to come to you first. I wanted to keep you away from her before she could hurt you too.” 

You exhale. You can’t hide your relief. He catches it, his eyes knit tight in confusion. 

“YN, do you understand what I just told you? Tara is Ghostface.” 

You take a breath. Look him in the eye. Wes is sweet. He’s nice. And Tara is his friend. You can talk him down, you know you can. 

“Wes, that’s-” You take a shaky breath, “That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard.” 

He stares at you, shakes his head. 

“No, no it’s not. YN-” 

“Tara is not Ghostface.” You tell him firmly, “She’s my girlfriend. She’s your friend.”  

“It’s her, YN. I’m sure. Think about it. Where was she, that night that Amber died?” He’s staring at you, searchingly, desperate to convince you.

“She was with me.” You insist, “She drove me home. I stayed with her, in her bed. She was with me the whole night. If she had left, I would have known.” 

Something flickers behind his eyes. His eyebrows knit tight in confusion.

“She didn’t drive you home.” He says, voice a little flat. “I saw Sam pick you up. I watched Tara put you in the car.”

Your heartbeat pounds. Idiot, you think, of course he saw you. why did you lie?  

The look in your eyes is all he needs. His blue eyes blink back at you as he pieces it together. Hurt, confusion, realization. 

“Oh my god.” He says, as it dawns on him, “You already know. You already know it’s her.” 

Your fingers grip white on the countertop. You swallow hard. 

“Wes. You’re confused. You don’t know what you’re saying.” 

He backs away from you slowly, runs his fingers through his bleach blonde hair. 

“I can’t believe this. I can’t fucking believe this. Are you in on it with her?” He’s staring at you with wide eyes. He’s scared. 

“I’m such a fucking idiot.” 

“Wes, calm down.” You reach for him but he jerks back away from you. “Wes.” 

Your mind races. In all your effort to unravel his theory, you’d only confirmed it more. Tara flashes through your mind. Her sweet smile. Dark, chocolate-eske eyes. Freckle-kissed face. 

You think of Wes driving madly to the police station, pointing the finger at her. You think of the Sheriff pulling up to Tara’s house in a squad car and dragging her away in handcuffs. 

You think of Tara in a cell. Tara in an orange jumpsuit. The smack of the Judge’s gavel as he declares he guilty and locks her away for life. Far away from Woodsboro. Far away from you. 

You’re thinking of her when you grab the knife. 

It happens in a flash. Wes launches himself at the door, trying to make a break for it. Adrenaline rushes through you. The handle is cool around your palm as you wrap your fingers around it. You surge forward, grab the back of Wes’ shirt and tug him towards you. In a panicked, heavy swing, you thrust the knife forward and sink it into Wes’ back.  

He cries out, stumbles forward onto the carpet. The knife is lodged deep between his shoulder blades. You don’t think, you act. Rush forward and take the handle between your fingertips. He yells out again as you pull the blade out. Thrust it forward once more, then twice, then three times until his whimpering is dying down and your hands are coated thick with his blood. 

He falls limp beneath you, face down on the cool tile of the kitchen floor. Your hands shake as the knife clatters to the fall. 

Over the blood in your ears, you hear your phone buzzing. 

You stumble backwards, grab it from the kitchen counter. It’s Tara, her smiling face looks back at you as you coat the phone bloody. 

“Five minutes my ass.” Her voice is light, she’s teasing, “Maybe I need to buy you a watch.” 

“Tara.” You whimper into the phone. Your hands are shaking. You stare down at Wes’ bloodied body. 

He stares back at you, lifeless. Dead.

“Baby?” You hear the concern in her voice, “What’s wrong?”  

“Tara,” You gasp into the phone. You feel dizzy, like you might pass out, “Tara, please you have to come, I’ve done something really bad. Tara-” 

“Don’t move, I’ll be right there. Stay on the line with me, sweetheart. Tell me what happened.” 

But you can’t, you don’t even know it yourself. It’s all a blur. The shake of Wes’ knee, his blue eyes earnest, worried. Fearful as he backed away from you. Glassy now as he stares back at you. Tears roll down your face as you sob into the phone. 

By the time you hear the front door open, you’ve sunken down into the floor, wide-eyed, clutching the phone in your hands as you look at the sight in front of you. 

When she enters, you watch as she freezes. Blood splattered across the floor. On the ceiling. All over you. Wes’ lifeless body at the center. Her eyes linger on him, wide and mournful. 

“Baby. What have you done?” 

“I had no choice.” You feel tears spill from your eyes. The awful metallic smell of blood permeates from your red hands. “He knew, Tara, he knew.” 

She’s moving over to you, kneeling down to your level. You sob as you feel the warmth of her on you, her fingers on your face, brushing your blood soaked hair out of your eyes, on your shoulders, tugging you into her. 

“He knew what, baby?”

She takes your hands, looking for something, inspecting. Cuts, maybe. There’s no point. It’s all his blood. 

You choke back a sob. She pulls you in close. 

“He knew you were Ghostface.” You say, tears are streaming thick and fast down your face now, “He came here to tell me. He didn’t know I knew.”

Your voice shakes, “He was going to go to the police, I had no choice-”

“Oh, honey.” She pulls you into her, nestles her hand in your hair. You choke back a sob. Press your face to her chest. Her scent, her arms around you soothe you instantly. But you don’t deserve it, you don’t deserve her comfort. You just killed somebody. 

“Tara, what did I do?” 

“Hey. It’s alright.” Her hands are either side of your face, cupping your cheeks. “It’s going to be okay.” 

She presses a long kiss to your lips. Your lips quiver against hers. 

“It’s all going to be okay.” She murmurs as she pulls back. You feel her take charge, “You’re going to go and get into the shower. Wash your hair. Scrub under your nails. Put the clothes you’re wearing in a plastic bag and wait for me upstairs, okay? I’m going to clean this up.” 

A fresh wave of tears falls thick down your face. 

“Tara-” 

“Baby. I need you to be strong for me now. Okay? Tell me what you’re going to do.” 

You swallow. Her voice is urgent, her eyes flitting between yours. 

“Baby.” 

“I’m going to shower. I’m going to wash my hair and scrub under my nails. And then I’m going to put my clothes in a plastic bag and wait for you upstairs.” 

She kisses you. 

“Good girl.” She murmurs against your lips, “That’s my good girl. It’s all going to be okay, sweetheart.” 

You shudder as she retracts. 

“Where’s your dad? What time will he be home?” 

You didn’t even think about him. Panic swells in your chest, fills your eyes. 

“I don’t know. God, Tara, if he comes home and sees this-”

Her hands grip firm around your shoulders. 

“Shh. It’s okay. Don’t panic. Just think. Where is he usually on a Friday? What time does he finish work?” 

You blink, struggle as you think hard. 

“Friday drinks.” You say, finally, “He goes to that bar on 2nd with his work friends. He’s not home until like eight.” 

“Good.” Tara says. She presses a kiss to your forehead, “See? Everything will be fine. Now go upstairs, and do exactly what I said.” 

You try not to think. 

You shower, exactly like she said. Put your clothes in a bag and leave them on the bathroom floor. 

Then you slip into one of Tara’s old hoodies and curl up into your duvet and press your eyes closed. Try not to think about how Wes had felt under you as you drove your knife into him. Try not to think about his screams. 

She doesn’t come up for a while. You hear her down there, moving around. You can smell the bleach wafting up the staircase. Finally, after what seems like hours she’s moving into the bathroom and turning on the water. 

She’s naked when she emerges, drops her towel and rifles through your wardrobe for an outfit. Slips on a pair of your sweatpants and an old t-shirt. 

“What did you do with him?” Is the first thing you say. Salt on your lips from the tears. You can still taste the metallic twang of his blood. 

“Don’t worry about that. Come on sweetheart, we’re leaving.” She pulls you up out of bed, wraps an arm around your shoulder. 

“Where are we going?” 

“Home.” 

The kitchen is immaculate. Scrubbed down, perfectly clean. Almost like it never happened. There’s a large suitcase by the door when you get down the stairs. You stop in your tracks. Your heart drops. 

“Tara, is he in there?” 

Her hands are strong on your back as she leads you forward. 

“Yes he’s in there. It’s broad daylight, sweetheart. It was the only way.” 

You didn’t even think about the logistics. The clean-up. The neighbors. The body. The body that was inside your Dad’s suitcase. 

“What are you going to do with him?” Bile rises in your throat. Tara rubs your back, presses her lips to the side of your head. 

“It’s better if you don’t know, babe. Come on, let’s get in the car.” She tries to pull you forward, but you resist. 

“Tara. I want to know.” 

She stares at you for a long moment. 

“I’m going to wait until it’s really late and then I’m going to drive out to the river and dump him in it.” 

The hairs on the back of your neck stand. She doesn’t allow you a moment longer to think. 

“Baby. Come on.” 

The drive home feels like a dream. You stare out through the windshield, trying to blink back your tears. Her hand grips yours tight over the center console. The radio blares some pop song. Kids play in the street. Grief washes through you. Grief you caused yourself. 

Tara helps you out of the car, half carries you upstairs to her bedroom. You can’t stop thinking about him. He’d been here only a couple of weeks ago, laughing and smiling and smoking weed in the living room. The lump in your throat aches at the thought. 

You curl up under Tara’s covers. Breathe deep, trying to surround yourself in her scent. You feel her tuck herself into you, arms wrapping tight around your waist, not an inch of space between you. Her lips ghost the back of your neck. 

“Are you hungry?” She’s murmuring, “I’m going to order us some food.” 

“We’ve missed our reservation.” You say, a million miles away. You could have been there by now. Sharing a plate of sushi and holding her hand over the table. 

“We’ll go next week.” She promises, as if things are perfectly normal and there isn’t a body in a suitcase in the trunk of her car. As if it isn’t your fault he’s in there. 

“His mom’s going to be so upset.” You can’t stop the tears from flooding over now. You’d met Wes’ mom once. Judy, the town sheriff. She was a hard ass. And she loved her son with everything she had. Tara squeezes you tight. 

“Don’t think about that, honey.” 

“I’m an awful person.” You whimper. 

“No you’re not. You did what you had to do.” Her voice is firm, “You were protecting me. The way I protect you.” 

She kisses your neck. You close your eyes, try not to think. Feel the beat of her heart, the warmth of her body pressed against you. The sweet smell of her shampoo. Coconut, you think, coconut and vanilla. 

“If you didn’t do what you did, I’d be gone now. I’d be locked away. They’d take me far away from you.” 

At that, you turn in her arms. Lean up to kiss her, fierce. 

“Nobody’s taking you from me.” You say. You lock your hands around her neck, brush your nose against hers. “Nobody.” 

Not Wes, and certainly not Judy. You’d die without her. You’d kill to keep them from her. She’s yours. She belongs with you. 

Your heartbeat steadies, slightly. You take a shaky breath as you look into the warm brown of her eyes. Brush your fingertips over the spatter of freckles across her nose. She’s everything to you. She’s more important than anyone else. Anything else.

“Nobody.” She affirms. 

Next part

[prettypei]

hii i enjoy your writing! may i request fluff drabbles for gojo, choso, yuta, noritoshi (kamo from the kyoto school) and hajime (aka kashimo the turquoise haired pikachu) please? like he's in an established relationship with reader and they're out on a cute date, being domestic and behaving like an old married couple. some ideas: ikea, grocery shopping, aquarium, art gallery, science museum/observatory etc

bonus if there are sweet romantic moments~ i'm fine with either fem or gender neutral reader, thank you i hope you'll consider my request! i just need something comforting to read bc shibuya arc has started in the anime while the manga is kinda at a tensed climax rn and i feel stressed lmao

plot: cute dates/domestic couple thingys with them!; fluff

reader: gn! Reader

characters: gojo, yuuta, choso, kashimo, kamo

warnings: yuutas kinda mean in this (but in a yuuta way)

(a/n): first req!!!!!! Hi hello anon I hope u like it 💪💪💪 gojo’s bento is very stereotypical Japanese LOL…KAMO IS SRSLY UNDERRATED!!!! Erm I also have like zero knowledge of flowers so sorry if it’s inaccurate, KAMOS IS SUPER CHEESY ENDING GBHBHJHHJHJH

✰CHOSO

Choso loves art. But he doesn’t only love art, he also loves you. So when you suggested to take him to the art museum for a date, he was overjoyed by the thought. But… he was embarrassed that you would see his drawings of you, so he hid it discreetly in his bag when you went to the museum. Yes, he paints you. Sketches you, even. But he’s way too shy to admit it, because god, he could never capture the way your eyes glinted or the way your smile stood out or the expression of pure bliss when he kissed you… he tries to avoid drawing you, but he can’t. You’re in every thought of his. And now, he’s trying to hide his notebook from you. He’s hugging it close to his chest, hiding it under his book bag as he mimicked the painting in front of him. It was a simple one, really…but it looked like it was missing something. He thought for a minute and his brain clicked. It was missing you. You would fit perfectly into it, since your eye color would stand out splendidly. He just finished drawing your face before… “whatcha doing?” He stumbles and knocks over his collection of colored pencils over the bench he was sitting on. “Nothing.” “Are you drawing something? Can I see it?” You ask excitedly. And honestly, could he ever say no to you? He mumbled a bit as he gave the book to you and started picking up the colored pencils, and you were surprised to see your own face staring back at you. “Is-is this me?” You smile. You flip through the book, and you noticed how your face was on almost every page. Choso looks up with a flustered face. “I-well-kinda? Yeah?” You drop down to the floor and hug him. “You’re so cute.” You mumble with a grin on your face. If he had known this would’ve made you like this he would’ve shown you this ages ago.

✰YUUTA

You and yuuta were at the grocery store, the second time this week, because food was running out again, since yuuta always insists on "buying just enough for both of us so we don't waste any food". If you didn't lie, you thought he quite enjoyed your silly little trips to the groceries. Even though the walk was short, you and yuuta often point out interesting things that cross your path. Last week you saw a dog wearing a fur coat, and just yesterday yuuta heard a construction worker whistle out the tune to "From the start" by Laufey. It's those simple things that quickly become inside jokes for the both of you. Upon arriving at the store, you usually follow yuuta as he shops for suitable groceries for today's lunch and dinner. But...after going shopping with him 3 times when you were dating, you noticed yuuta had a habit of looking at food labels. For a really long time. As yuuta examines the ingredients for the canned pineapples (why would you even need to do that? It's literally just pineapples!) you whine about how he's taking so long that you've started getting wrinkles. He then proceeds to give you a chuckle and a "wait a minute, love." and continue to read the can's contents. "(name)." He calls out your name in the most serious tone you've ever heard him in. "what?" He reaches into the cart and takes out a can of "grilled takoyaki balls: freshly made" and gives you a disgusted look. You shrug sheepishly.

✰GOJO

"(NAME)!!! (NAMEEEE)!!!" A tic almost forms at your forehead when you hear that sound, and, lo and behold, it is your husband once again embarrassing you in front of your co-workers. You walk over to him while crossing your arms. "What are you doing?" You hiss as the women (and men) all around you give you jealous looks. "Can't I surprise my darlin' at work once in a while?" He grins while holding up a bento box. Your eyes soften as you look at the homemade bento. Yeah, it probably tastes like shit cuz Gojo really can't cook, but...it's nice to see him put in an effort once in a while. "I wanna see your reaction when you eat it." He says stubbornly as he pulls your hand into the office building. "Oh boy." You think when Gojo shrugs off the security guard and waves to everyone as he waltzes into the lunch break room like he owns the place. He pulls a chair down for you and sits down in another one. "Open it, open it!" He smiles. You roll your eyes with a chuckle, and you're expecting to see some unidentified gunk, but to your surprise, it's a cute bento with sausages shaped like squid, egg rolls tucked in nicely next to the fried rice, and meat balls on a stick. “I made it four times, did you like it? And, well, I may or may have not made our kitchen a mess but it’s worth-“ You shut him up with a kiss.

✰KAMO

“Kamo, love?” “Yes, dear?” “Look at how gorgeous these Daffodils are!” You pick up a potted plant of them as Kamo miles at you. Going on dates to flower shops had become a routine for you and Kamo, since you both would do it weekly. “Yes, darling, they are beautiful. Not as beautiful as you though.” “Shut up.” You scoff as you roll your eyes and shove him playfully. Kamo has a wide knowledge about flowers, knowing what each of them symbolize and what they represent. Before dating Kamo, you would’ve never known that red, white and pink carnations had different meanings, or that white Hyacinths stood for loveliness. Most of the time on these dates you would stroll through each aisles, pointing out flowers or plants that you thought were cute. Kamo would then proceed to tell you the meaning. On the surface, it may seem like a repetitive action, but with Kamo, everything feels new and interesting. He may tell you a story about what this plant reminds him of, or about how this flower wilts to your beauty. At the end of every date (usually the shopkeeper has to kick you both out) Kamo buys you a bouquet of flowers, each symbolizing something about your relationship with one another. Even though sometimes the flowers wilt and you have to throw them away, he knows that his love for you never will.

✰KASHIMO

"Kashi! You look just like it!" Kashimo hums as he opens one eye to see you holding up a cat. You both are at a cat cafe, since you really do love cats and, well, Kashimo doesn't mind cats, really. But when he met you (a certified-cat-lover) his love for them had grown. Now, whenever he sees a stray cat on the street, he takes a picture and shows it to you. "Do I? Its hair's not green." He points out. "Well, it doesn't have to be! You and him both give off the same vibes! I just saw him standing on top of the bookshelf, thought it looked lonely." "You think I'm lonely?" He teases, getting down from his seat to sit on the floor with you. “Nah. You’re never lonely with me.” You grin. “Say hi to it!” “Hello.” He says with a deadpan face. “You have to be friendly with it!” “Hello.” He smiles an obviously forced grin. “😐” “I love you.” “Okay.” “C’mon, baby don’t be like that.” He smirks as he scoots in closer with you. You roll your eyes as you start playing with the cat. Kashimo’s eyes narrow as he snatch’s the cat away from your arms. “Hey!” “If you keep on playing with it more than me, I’m gonna think you were wishing you were dating it.” He ruffles its hair as he lets it go. “You’re so mean. It’s cute! Unlike you.” “Who exactly is the mean one?” You giggle and poke his cheek. “I’m joking, joking. I love you.” There’s a moment of silence as he takes in the words. “Well, I love you more. If this is a competition, I’m definitely gonna win.”