#THE MOST TO HAVE EVERRRER | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

celestie0 · 1 year ago

Text

gojo satoru x reader | college au [18+]

kickoff ch.8 a little cottage on the countryside

ᰔ pairing. college au - soccer player! gojo x film major! reader

ᰔ summary. gojo satoru is the most popular guy on your college campus. he's tall, funny, hot, not to mention he's the most talented soccer forward the school has seen in years. but he's also a frat dude, which puts him in a world very different from your own, as he spends most of his nights partying & drinking while you spend most of yours working on your annoying film major assignments. but when he reaches out to you for a favor, you realize that helping him out might have something in it for you too.

ᰔ warnings/tags. 18+, fem reader, fluff, angst, smut, college au, fraternities, sororities, partying, drinking/alcohol, mentions of weed, romance, jealousy, pining, slow burn, opposites to lovers, friends to lovers, she falls first he falls harder, gojo being an idiot

ᰔ chapter. 8/x (probably 12)

ᰔ words. 13.5k (...i'm gonna go take a nap lol)

a/n. hello hellooo my dear kickoff readers, hope you're having a nice day so far! this is the longest chapter yet, so i hope you enjoy <3 it's also got one of my favorite tropes everrr hehehehe you could probs guess what it is halfway through. see you at the bottom and happy reading! sorry if there are typos i didn't proofread this one as much as the others haha

nav. masterlist

☾·̩͙꙳ moodboard no.1

♬.*ﾟplaylist

You don’t cry much these days, but when you do, it’s usually out of nowhere.

Like now, as you stand in the school’s photo lab, developing the shots that you took for UTokyo’s game against Osaka last week, and you have to swipe at the tears on your cheek threatening to fall all over the captured images of grass, benches, nets, banners, stands, and him.

One of the photographs catches your eye, and you pick it up from the table. It’s a candid moment you took of Gojo on the field right before you confessed to him. You had spotted him first while the team was doing their warm-up, and you thought he looked nice from the way he had that concentrated look on his face that you’ve learned to love. But right before you clicked the shutter, he had turned away, chasing after the ball, and so all you could capture was his back facing you as he looked off ahead into the distance. You wondered if that was how it’s always been this whole time–with you looking at him while he’s looking off at something else. It was a depressing thought, but your mind had a tendency for sadness since that day.

The sound of the photo lab door opening jolts you back to reality, and you quickly straighten your posture and wipe your cheek with your sleeve, trying to sniffle as discreetly as possible, then set the picture down. Your fellow film major greets you quietly, asking if you’re still using the developer liquid, to which you say no, then hand it over to them. You stuff your photographs into a folder and head out the door.

You make it across campus to the Film & Media Studies building, then up to the third floor where your professor's office is. His door was ajar, but you still knocked before entering.

He looks up from the photographs he was grading. “Oh, y/n, hello. How are you?”

“I’m well, thank you, yourself?” you ask, taking a seat on the chair that was fixed to face his desk. You pull your tote bag into your lap.

“Great, thanks. How can I help you?”

You slide the folder to him over the scraped, worn burgundy wood of his desk. “I still had to turn in my photos for the assignment due last week. I appreciate the extension.”

“Ah, right,” he says, taking the folder from you. “I’ll get around to grading them. I’m curious, what did you end up choosing for your subject matter?” He tucks the folder underneath the pile that was to his side.

“I took photos of the soccer team’s game against Osaka Uni on Thursday last week,” you tell him.

He frowns at you. “Film cameras don’t have that level of zoom, though. I do hope you followed the rubric guidelines for central object to frame ratio, otherwise I’ll have to take off points.”

“Oh– I did. I took the photos from the sidelines,” you tell him, panicking already.

His eyes widened. “From the sidelines? On the field?”

You nod at him, fidgeting with your bag in your lap.

“Wow, I can’t say I’ve ever had a student take photos like that before. That’s pretty challenging to pull off, though,” he says, sitting up straighter, “...you mind if I take a look at them right now?”

You shake your head. “Oh, no. Not at all.”

He pulls your folder out from the bottom of the pile, then gently slips the photos out of them, rearranging them all across his desk. He leans down closer to study some of them, tilting his head curiously at others, furrowing his brow in concentration to a select few. “These are incredible.”

You take in a deep breath. “Thank you, professor.”

He nods at you with acknowledgement, and you watch him as he studies the images quietly for another minute, then looks up at you. “Is there anything else I can help you with?” he asks when he notices you’re still seated.

“Ah…yes, there was something I wanted to ask you.”

“What is it?” He taps his pen on the desk.

“I was wondering if you could write me a letter of recommendation for the film graduate program.”

He nods, like he was expecting the question. “Yeah, of course. Just send me your resume and portfolio.” He taps eagerly on one of your images. “Please send me digitals for these, too.”

You let out a relieved exhale. “Yes, I will. Thank you so much, professor, I really appreciate it.”

You left the building feeling extremely relieved about your professor agreeing to write your recommendation, but also feeling sad because you couldn’t tell Gojo about it, since this was the full-circle moment for the little arrangement the two of you had. There’s a thought that considers texting him, and you take out your phone then go to his name, but your thumbs just can’t bring yourself to send him a message.

The days of the week go by in a blur, and between every single little moment in life, your mind always wanders to him. It’s hard to get over someone when you’re surrounded by them. Like late at night while you’re editing the digitals of the game last week to send to your professor, and you find yourself staring at the pictures you’ve taken of him. It’s hard to get over him when the school worships the soccer team and you’re forced to see promotional banners and posters all over campus with his stupidly beautiful face in them. You didn’t have the heart to block him on Instagram, because you remember that time he teased you about how you didn’t follow him back, and you wonder if it would make him sad if you blocked him, so you just resorted to deleting the app instead. And although you were the one that asked for space from him, you were growing increasingly annoyed at how good he seemed to be at keeping it.

The library wasn’t even much of a safe space either, since you overheard a group of girls the other day at a table arguing about which of the players on the team is the hottest, and so you find yourself doing your homework on a lovely Wednesday morning at your apartment instead.

You lean back in your chair and look up at the ceiling, and then jump when you hear your phone ring, quickly turning it over to read the caller ID. Nobara. You accept the call, placing her on speaker, then set your phone back down on your desk.

“Hey, Nobie, what’s up?”

“Hey, nothing much. Just wanted to ask if you wanted to hang out,” she says.

“Oh, I would love to, but I’m working on homework right now. It’s due in a couple of hours,” you sigh.

“Boo, you whore. For what class?”

“My stats 130 elective,” you say. “I’m a film major, why do I need to know statistics?” You tap your pen to your chin. “Actually, it might be valid.”

“Is that the class with the creepy professor?” she asks. “The one that got caught with a PornHub tab open while he was presenting his lecture slides.”

“Yeah.”

“I took his class last semester! I still have all my homework for it,” she exclaims on the other end, “do you want me to send it over?”

“Yes, omg, I could kiss you right now,” you groan, resting your head on your arm sprawled across your desk in exhaustion.

“So definite no to hang out?”

“Sorry, I’ll reach out later though,” you sigh, “also, my car is still in repair…apparently something came up with the engine. So we can’t go far unless we invite Mina.”

“That’s fine, I’m sure she’ll be thrilled to come if we invite her just to chauffeur,” she says sarcastically. “By the way, how’d the pictures come along? For the newsletter?”

You lift your head up off of the desk in a panic. Shit. You were so focused on turning in your digitals of the game to your professor that you totally forgot you were supposed to send them to Utahime as well. “Oh my god, I forgot. When do they finalize the release again?”

“Isn’t it today at noon? I sent over film club’s photos this morning,” she says.

You glance at the time. 11:56am.

“Nobara, I’ve gotta go. I need to call Utahime, sorry,” you say. She acknowledges you, telling you to hurry, and then you hang up.

You call Utahime and scribble down on a sticky note to paste on your wall as a reminder to buy her a loving gift basket one of these days because of course she extends the release deadline just for you. You finish touching up the digitals and then send them to her via email, and after you finish your statistics homework, she calls you again to meet up somewhere nearby.

“Thanks so much for coming here,” Utahime says as she sits across from you at one of the local cafes you frequent. “Also, this chai latte is so good, I’m honestly surprised.”

You nod at her. “This place has great drinks.” You slide a folder across the table to her and she sets her drink down to accept it.

“Sorry if it was a hassle, but I just had to ask for physicals of these photos,” she sighs as she pulls them out. “They’re amazing, seriously, I gasped when I saw them. I’m used to sifting through a lot of professional sports photos for the newsletter, for all of the teams on campus, but I’ve never seen photos as charming as these. It could be the film photography aspect, since most of the ones I see are digital, but I’m seriously shocked you could capture shots like this at a rowdy men’s soccer match.”

You’re shaking your head at her. “Please don’t compliment me so much, I’ll cry. And it’s no issue, I had a spare set of physicals from when I developed them. You can keep them.”

She smiles at you. “Okay, well then, I think it goes without saying that I’ll definitely be including them for the sports recap this week. I’ll send you the money soon, too.”

You clap your hands together and interlock your fingers. “I’m. So. Grateful. For. You.”

She laughs across from you and takes another sip of her latte before sitting back slightly, glancing at the photos spread across the table. “Hm…how busy are you for the rest of the semester?”

You tilt your head at her and bring your coffee to your lips, taking a sip before setting it back down. “Not terribly busy, I quit my job last month so I’m just taking my assignments as they come and go.”

Utahime nods at you, a thoughtful expression on her face, and she smooths down the fabric of her shirt. “Okay, well, I got an email from the school this morning that one of the newsletter photographers for the men’s soccer team is moving to a different city, so they’re looking to fill in the position as soon as possible and they asked if I knew anyone,” she mentions, resting her elbow on the table and then placing her hand on her cheek. “They usually only hire professionals, but if I put a word in for you, they’d probably offer it to you.”

Your eyes widen at her from across the table, heart beating a bit faster in your chest.

“They pay really well for a part-time job. It’s essentially full-time pay for part-time hours,” she continues, “but it’s probably because you’ll have to travel with the team to their away games, including unofficial matches and conferences. If you’re not that busy for the next two months, then I think it’d be a good opportunity for you to build experience.”

You purse your lips together, considering her words. Although it’s a bit different from your long-term career plans, it was still a great way to get experience before graduate school. And besides, you needed the money, considering you quit your job last month and your savings were starting to run thin–never mind the fact that your car repair bill went from a few thousand yen to somewhere in the tens-of-thousands. And you would prefer to still be able to afford rent. Oh, and eat. Possibly still pay for Netflix.

But then there was the fact that having that kind of job meant that you would be spending a lot of time with the soccer team, and therefore increases the chances of running into Gojo. And you’re supposed to be staying away from him to get over your feelings.

“It sounds like an amazing opportunity, really,” you start, “...but I can’t.”

Utahime frowns at you and sits up straight. “Really? I thought you’d be excited. Why not?”

You sigh. “It’s complicated.”

“y/n…” Utahime starts, “I don’t really know what’s going on in your head right now, but isn’t this your dream? For your work to reach people? I know it’s only a stepping stone, believe me I know very well the path to becoming any sort of artist is an uphill battle of hell, but I’ve known you for a while now. And I know how much your dreams mean to you, and how hard you’re willing to work for them.”

Your heart swells in our chest at Utahime’s words. She was right, and you were starting to get really sick of letting your fears hold you back from what you really wanted in life. “...you’re right, I’m sorry. I’d love to be considered for the position, if you could recommend me.”

She smiles and nods at you. “Will do.”

–

The email for the job offer comes surprisingly fast, and you quickly read through it before accepting. It wasn’t a horrible time commitment, given you’d only have to take pictures during active play during matches, give or take a couple hours before, and the photographers rotate between who takes up each of the conferences so the work was split up. You were able to meet a few of the newsletter photographers & journalists during the game last week, so you already knew some of them. The offer letter came attached with a full calendar of the soccer team’s practice schedule, official match schedule, unofficial match schedule, conference schedule, and other publicity schedule, and you’re shocked at how busy all the players must be. The fact that they still have time to be students–and for most of them, active participants in fraternities–was honestly beyond you.

It seemed like they only had four more official matches left, two being away matches, along with a couple of unofficial matches that they may or may not participate in depending on how the season goes for them.

Their next game was on Friday against Kyoto university, and you were scheduled to shoot for their sports conference the day following as well. So you find yourself on a train embarked for the countryside, and you peer out of the window with a nervous feeling in your stomach. The sparkling skyscrapers and bustling crowds of Tokyo gradually started to give way into sights of expansive lush greenery, picturesque and charming towns, and winding rivers surrounded by trees. The closer you got to Kyoto, the sky became more gray until a steady drizzle began to fall against the train window. When you reached the final station, the rain had dissipated, and the taxi ride to the hotel was only about fifteen minutes. The journey felt exhausting, and you were so incredibly ready to pass out in a comfy bed.

You stood underneath a small sidewalk roof near the vending machines lining the outside of the hotel, trying to keep your bag and suitcase with all your equipment in it dry from the remnant soft mist of rain still lingering in the air.

“Hey, Utahime, sorry to bother you so late,” you say, holding your phone between your shoulder and ear, “but is it the Hilton on 3rd street? Or on Main? Because if it’s the one on Main, then I may have messed up-”

You stop speaking when you hear a masculine voice down the road towards the left, echoing off of the lined up small shops along the sidewalk, and your heart could have recognized the sound anywhere. You’re swift to turn and face that direction, almost dropping your phone in the process, and you see him– the object of all your suffering lately.

Gojo stood there, wide-eyed and stopped completely in his tracks as the recognition of you under the dim street lighting flashes across his face. He’s in pajamas– a red long-sleeve cotton shirt that looks so stupidly soft and comfortable it almost makes you emotional, with some matching checkered red pants. It was the most casual clothing you’ve ever seen him in. His hair appears damp, slightly tousled, from what you could assume was an effort to dry it off fast. And he had crocs on. In sports mode. You make a mental note to ask him about his charms and if he’s willing to trade any of them with you. But maybe some other day. When it doesn’t hurt to think about him.

“y/n?” he calls your name out, astonished. He’s looking at you like he’s just seen a ghost but in the best way possible.

You blink at him, heart skipping a beat just from the mere sight of him, and when you hear Utahime’s voice on the line you’re shaken out of your trance. “Oh, sorry, I’m still here. I…I think I just had my question answered. Thank you, have a good night.” You pull your phone down, gaze lingering on your screen for way too long because you can’t brave yourself to look over at the man to your left, and you end the call.

There’s the sound of remnant puddles of water splashing as he takes a few steps closer to you, and you can see his reflection in the water of the one in front of you. The expression on his face matches the one that was there when you last saw him outside of the UTokyo stadium at the west side exit. It’s an expression you could still see every time you close your eyes.

Finally turning to face him, you purse your lips together. “Hi.”

“Hey, what are you doing here?” he asks, voice laced with confusion and you see him take in your appearance with eager flicks of his gaze all around, like he couldn’t believe you were standing in front of him right now.

“Satoru!” another familiar voice calls out. “Did you get the orange-flavored ones too? Choso’s a fucking idiot and got the grape ones instead. I hate those. They taste like medicine. And ass. Not that I would know what–” You see Geto emerge from the darkness to Gojo’s side, and now he’s looking at you with a surprised look too. “Oh, it’s y/n. What are you doing here?”

“Hey, you two,” you chirp, trying to act as if an entire world of awkwardness wasn’t being exchanged between you and Gojo right now, for the sake of hoping that Geto wasn’t a very good judge of energy. “I’m here to take pictures of the soccer team.”

Your eyes flicker to Gojo, who is still looking at you like he’s never seen a person before.

“Oh, is it for another one of your assignments?” Geto asks.

“No, it’s not. It’s for the newsletter,” you explain to him, “I guess it’s my job now.”

There are a few more distant footsteps that follow behind the two of them, with the crinkling noises of plastic bags hitting against thighs echoing through the streets, and eventually they catch up. You see Nanami and the UTokyo team’s goalie, you believe his name is Choso, arrive at this little gathering that was taking place outside of the hotel.

“That’s awesome!” Geto exclaims. “I’m sure the newsletter will lead to a lot of exposure.”

“Who reads the newsletter?” Choso asks.

Geto nudges him with his elbow. “Dude.”

“What?”

He then fills Choso in on the conversation, “Oh, my bad.”

“Don’t worry, y/n, I read the newsletter,” Geto says, “I read it like the morning paper.”

“It only comes out once a week, but nice try,” you respond, giving him a weary look.

Nanami crosses his arms. “I actually do happen to read it,” he says, “although I refrain from the soccer section. Feels rather egotistic to read it. I find the campus politics section to be enjoyable, though.”

The rest of you exchange annoyed glances at that.

“Satoru reads the soccer section,” Geto says, slinging an arm around him, “‘cause he’s full of himself.”

For a moment, Gojo remains silent, while his teammates, who had been observing him with amused expressions, gradually shift to awkward blinking, like they were expecting him to complain, or say something sarcastic, or joke around by now.

“I do read it,” he says, eyes locked on yours. “I saw the release from yesterday. Your pictures were stunning.”

You’re flustered from the way he’s looking at you. “Thanks.”

Choso opens the plastic bag he was holding, peering down into it. “Shit. Ice cream’s melting, guys.”

“Yeah, we should probably head back to the rooms,” Geto looks at you, “do you want any snacks?”

“Oh, no. I’m good. I was just about to go check-in,” you say to them.

The boys politely say bye to you, and Gojo mentions something about staying back for a bit and hands Nanami the plastic bag he was carrying before they head back into the hotel. And then the two of you are alone under this roof, drops of water falling from it in between the two of you. He takes a step towards you, and you instantly stiffen. He seems to notice because he sighs and then walks past you to the vending machine that was next to you, pulling out some spare change from his pocket and inputting it into the machine.

“Do you want anything to drink?” The machine feeds him something, and he crouches down to pick it up before standing up again.

“No, I’m good, thanks,” you say, hand clutching the handle of your suitcase.

He cracks the can of his soda open. “So, you’re going to be traveling with us for the newsletter now?” he asks, so concisely, like he felt that every word comes with a tax.

“Yeah.”

“We don’t have to act like we’re strangers.”

You turn to face him. “What should we act like then?”

There’s a hesitant look in his expression as he looks down at his feet and then back up at you. “Can’t we at least be friends?”

The question softens you at your core, the tone of his voice sounding genuine. Being friends with him sounds so nice, and you kind of wish that’s what you two always were. Just friends. Maybe it would have avoided all of this heartache. But deep inside you knew that just being friends with him wasn’t an option anymore, at least not for now. “No, sorry. That’s just a recipe for disaster. I have to go check-in now.”

You grab your tote bag from the bench, grip tight onto your suitcase handle and make your way splashing across the shallow puddles then through the hotel’s automatic doors into the warmth of the lobby.

The lighting inside was warm and there were moderately high ceilings adorned with vintage-looking chandeliers. Around the perimeter, there were amenities including a cozy lounge with a fireplace, a small bar serving cocktails, as well as a business lounge with booths and multiple TVs mounted to the walls playing the local news. It made you feel like you were on vacation, and getting to a hotel at this hour while on vacation always meant that you were about ready to pass out on some freshly washed and tucked white linen sheets after taking a nice warm shower with a lavender-scented mini soap bar.

Making your way through the maze of plush seating areas, you get to the concierge desk to check-in. There was a professionally-dressed woman with a slicked-back bun standing there behind the counter, her eyes scanning the computer screen in front of her, and a big, burly man that stood behind her wearing all black that appeared to be security.

“Hello, I’m here to check-in,” you say, placing your forearm on the cold black counter.

The lady doesn’t look up from the computer screen. You clear your throat.

“Oh, hello. Name on the reservation?” she asks you.

You take a look down at your phone screen. The reservation was still under the name of the person that had recently quit the job. “Yui Ishikawa.”

The lady behind the counter hums to herself, obnoxiously tapping at the keyboard with only one of her index fingers. She was chewing gum. “Hm. Don’t see that name here.”

“What?” You squint at your phone and refresh the page, then turn it to face her. “But it’s on your official booking site. There was email confirmation too.”

She glances at your phone screen then taps at the keyboard again, still obnoxiously loud, but she uses her other index finger this time. “Yeah, still nothing.”

“This has to be some kind of mistake,” you say to her.

She looks up at you with an annoyed expression. “Do you want to take a look at the screen? See for yourself.” She turns the monitor to face you.

You don’t even work here, but you could see clear as day on their interface software that there was a reservation for this Yui Ishikawa woman at this time tonight. You point at it. “It’s right there. The reservation is literally right there.”

She turns the screen back to herself and squints at it. “Oh. Well, unfortunately, we already gave that room to someone else. Since it wasn’t there on our system a half hour ago.”

“What? How is that fair?” You were starting to get seriously annoyed. That refreshing shower you were dreaming of was starting to sound more of a need than a want with every passing minute. “Can you give me another room?”

“No, sorry, we’re all booked for tonight,” she tells you, without offering any additional help.

You look at her baffled. The big burly man behind her has now taken an interest in the conversation as well. “Okay…can you tell me if there are any hotels nearby that I could stay at?”

“Look. This is the countryside, ma’am, there are only a handful of hotels in this area that aren’t tourist accommodations. It’s also the night before a men’s college soccer match, and there seems to be some business seminar taking place nearby too. You can call and check, but the closest hotel this large is about an hour away,” she tells you.

“What? An hour away? I can’t afford a cab ride like that,” you tell her.

“Unfortunately, that isn’t really my problem,” she says.

You blink at her. “Are you being serious? This is ridiculous.”

“Ma’am, we’re going to have to ask you to leave if you can’t comply with our booking rules,” she declares.

“Leave?! You’re the ones that messed up the booking!” You’re yelling now, a few heads turning from the bar at the back. Exhaustion was pulsing through your veins and your filter was slipping. “Do you have any idea how to do your damn job?”

The woman guffaws at you. “Alright, that’s it.” She snaps her fingers, and you watch as the big, burly man walks around the counter of the concierge desk to make his way to you.

You take a step back, watching in horror as he towers over you and grabs onto your arm. “Let’s leave without any issues, miss,” he says in a deep voice.

“What?! But– hey, that’s my suitcase! Don’t– wait–”

“Woah, woah, woah,” you hear a familiar voice call out from the left. “What’s going on here?”

The three of you turn your heads in the direction of the voice, and you see Gojo, still clad in those ridiculously soft-looking pajamas, doing a light jog up to the counter.

The woman at the reception desk straightens herself up immediately, and she pets down on her dress and fixes her hair at the mere sight of him. You resist the urge to roll your eyes. “Nothing to see here, sir! Just a crazy woman that can’t comprehend hotel establishment rules.”

“That crazy woman just so happens to be my wife,” he says, pulling the big burly man’s hand off of your arm.

All three of you look at him dumbfounded.

“Y-Your wife?” the woman asks, sounding equally surprised and disappointed. “But she’s complaining about the fact that she doesn’t have a room.”

“I know, she does that all the time,” he sighs, “she’s got–...early-onset…dementia. Sweetheart, what did I tell you about packing up all your things and leaving the room when I’m not watching you?”

You give him a what the fuck look. He scowls at you to just play along.

“So…she’s with you?” the woman asks.

Gojo nods. “She always forgets that we’ve already booked a room together. Just a silly little sickly lady. Isn’t that right, honey?” He’s holding your shoulders and making you face the concierge woman.

“Y-Yes…” you say awkwardly, trying to put on a smile.

“So, if you could forgive her behavior,” he says with a super pleading voice, pulling you into him so your back is flush against his front side. “I’ll keep her in check from now on.”

The woman lets out a scoff in disbelief. “Alright…just don’t let her out again.” You send her a nasty look. The big burly man lets out a hmph and steps away from you.

“Sure thing. Let’s go, honey,” Gojo says, grabbing the handle of your suitcase in one hand and your upper arm in his other, dragging you with him across the lobby to the elevators. It isn’t until he’s pressed the up button and you finally gain your footing again after stumbling a few steps that you yank away from his grip.

“What are you doing?” you hiss at him, feeling embarrassed.

He looks down at you with a raise of his eyebrow. “Saving you from getting kicked out of the only decent hotel within a thirty-mile radius?”

“I didn’t need your help, I had the situation under control,” you mumble, smoothing out the layers of your clothing.

“Yes. That’s exactly what that looked like,” he muses as the elevator door opens and he steps inside, taking your suitcase with him as hostage. You panic at the sight and step inside with him, the door closing behind you.

“Where are we going?” you ask.

“To my room,” he says, pressing a button on the control pad, “you couldn’t get one, right?”

Your eyes widen. “No…I couldn’t.”

Gojo’s room is on the fourth floor, eleven units down to the right, and you follow him with dragging feet all the way down. Once he makes it in front of the door and takes the keycard out of his pocket, he pauses and looks over at you. “Waiting for you to thank me.”

You narrow your eyes at him. “For what?”

He’s waving the card in the air tauntingly. “You look exhausted as hell right now. I’m the one with the access to a nice hotel vanity and a soft, warm bed,” he practically purrs the words.

You’re instantly folding. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, honey,” he chimes, pressing the card to the reader.

“Stop calling me that,” you grumble as he opens the door for you.

You step into the room, rolling your suitcase inside with you, and take a look around. There was a single bed with the headboard up against the left-side wall, a nightstand on both sides and a desk where you noticed Gojo had his laptop open and a few books out. The bathroom was to the right, and there was a long table that had a coffee machine as well as the TV on top of it.

You place your suitcase against the wall then turn around, standing only a few feet from the entrance of the room, to find Gojo still standing outside in the hallway.

“Do you have to go somewhere?” you ask him. “Why are you just standing there?”

“Oh, I don’t need any of my other stuff,” he says to you, tapping at his pocket where you can see the imprint of his wallet, “room’s all yours.”

Your eyes widen at him. “Wait…are you going to sleep somewhere else?”

He tilts his head at you, as if that was obvious. “Yeah, I was going to go crash on the couch in Suguru’s room or something.”

“But–” you start, stopping yourself.

He’s waiting for you to speak, but you can’t.

“Well…good night, then,” he says and he turns to the side, about to walk down the hall, when you reach out and grab the sleeve of his shirt, stopping him in his tracks.

This was a bad idea. You’re supposed to be putting distance between the two of you right now, so that you can get over him. This was a man that very clearly said he didn’t have feelings for you. But honestly, you missed him. You missed him so damn much this past week, and you can only be strong for so long.

“You have an important match tomorrow,” you say quietly, “you should be getting a good night’s rest. We’ll share the bed.”

He turns to face you, looking down at where you were pinching the fabric of his shirt, which was just as soft as you had imagined, and he glances up to meet your gaze once again. “I’m…really confused right now.”

“What if you guys lose and are booted from the competition, and I have to spend the rest of my life regretting the fact that the reason the school lost a 12-year championship streak is all because I made you sleep on a couch?” you ask him.

He takes a step towards you. “You really want me to stay?” His voice was low.

“Yes,” you say. “We’re mature adults. Despite everything, we can just…share a bed for one night, right?”

He’s silent for a moment. “I think you trust me a little too much.”

Your face felt hot. “Are you telling me that I shouldn’t?”

“I’m telling you that you should really think this through,” he says.

“Just stay. Please.” The tone to your voice came off much more desperate than you would’ve liked.

He looks at you like the last thing in the world he could say right now was no. “You’re sure?”

“Yes.”

“Positive?”

“Satoru.”

“Okay,” he says, walking past you into the room, like he wasn’t really in the mood to argue about it anymore.

You sigh, sulking your shoulders a little bit, and watch as he takes a seat at the desk and continues to click through things on his laptop, occasionally sipping on the cup of coffee he had made for himself, as if your presence here was no unnatural thing.

This all felt so domestic for you. This feels like the most intimate the two of you have been with one another, despite the fact he’s literally made you cum with his tongue before.

“Who drinks coffee at this hour?” you ask, crouching down to unzip your suitcase, opening it up to find your cosmetics bag and a fresh pair of clothes to change into.

“Caffeine doesn’t really affect me anymore.” His eyes were still stuck on his laptop screen.

“You sound dead inside,” you comment, standing back up straight. You step over your suitcase that was on the floor and head into the bathroom, about to close the door but you open it enough to peer over at him from inside. “I’m going to take a shower,” you announce.

You see him poke his tongue to his cheek, leg bouncing up and down underneath the desk, and he squints at his laptop screen like there’s something so damn important that he must concentrate on or else the entire universe would collapse inside of a black hole. “Cool. Have fun.”

“I will.”

“I’m glad.”

“No peeping.”

“There’s a lock on the bathroom door. Feel free to use it.”

“That’s rich, coming from you.” And then you’re shutting the door.

It felt nice to freshen up, especially after that long journey, and then you’re doing your skincare in the mirror while you’re wrapped in a towel, trying to forget the fact that the man you quite seriously have immense feelings for is somewhere outside that door just a few feet away in this small hotel room. You spray a spritz of your perfume onto your skin, something there’s literally no point in doing before bedtime, but you still do it…for no particular reason at all, obviously.

When you step back out into the room, Gojo’s eyes are instantly on you from where he stood near the closet. He takes in your appearance and lets out a laugh, looking at you with amusement.

“What?” you ask.

“You look so cute,” he says, “with your little sloth pajamas.”

You’re fully blushing as you make your way over to the armchair in the room to set your cosmetics bag down on it to sort through the mess you’ve just made of it. “Don’t call me cute,” you scold, searching for your lip balm.

You could feel his frown from behind you. “You don’t like it?”

“No. I love it.”

“I’m not following.”

You turn around to face him. “Satoru. You promised me you wouldn’t lead me on anymore. That includes teasing me or complimenting me.”

He looks at you incredulously. “What? I can’t even call you cute? This fucking sucks.”

“Your problem,” you say.

“So you’re cool with sharing a bed, but you’re not cool with me complimenting you,” he lays it out.

“We’re sharing this bed out of the kindness of my own heart,” you say to him, “because I care oh-so-very-much about your soccer career, and understand how important good sleep is for an athlete’s performance. I’m just that considerate of a person.” You point a strict finger at him. “But for your information, if you touch me while we’re in bed, I’ll kill you.”

“Hm. Not sure if I feel threatened or turned on right now,” he says.

You roll your eyes and finally zip up your cosmetics bag, set it on the table then make your way to the left side of the bed. When you glance at the nightstand, you notice Gojo has his wallet, his phone and his charger all situated there.

“Why’s your stuff here?” you ask him.

“Huh? Oh, I was going to sleep on that side,” he says to you.

“I usually sleep on the left side,” you tell him.

“But I usually sleep on the left side.”

You blink at him.

“I–…I’ll sleep on the right side,” he suggests, shoulders tense and on edge.

“Okay,” you shrug, and move his stuff.

Gojo spends some time freshening up in the bathroom too, and when he comes out he looks like he’s actually tired, and you feel like it’s the first time you’ve seen him look as worn out as he probably should be for someone as busy as him. You’re already settled under the sheets, the duvet pulled all the way up to your chin as you lay on your back. He comes up to the right side of the bed, checking his phone for a few minutes while standing and rubbing at the back of his neck, then plugs his phone into the charger. He grabs the sheets, about to pull them back, when he pauses and looks at you.

“Are you su-”

“If you ask me if I’m sure about this one more time, I will no longer feel sorry for you, and will make you go sleep on the love-stained couch,” you threaten him.

He grimaces at your choice of words and pulls the sheets back, slipping himself into bed. “Why do you have to put it like that? You’re gross. Also, I’m pretty sure this bed has seen less-than-holy things too.”

The only lighting in the room came from the warm, dim bulb of the night lamp at Gojo’s nightstand. An incredibly awkward silence settles between the two of you. Or maybe it’s just awkward for you, because he seems fine. He’s on his back too, looking up at the ceiling, practically motionless but there’s the faintest sound of his breathing every once in a while and it’s a sound you’ve never heard in such detail before.

He turns his head to you, but you don’t meet his gaze just yet. You shuffle a little bit, hip bumping against his side, elbow hitting his arm. He’s masculine next to you, shoulders hard, muscles heavy, but when you finally turn your head to glance at him and see the expression on his face, you realize that everything about him was rigid—except for the way he was looking at you.

“When did you sneak it in?” he asks.

“Sneak what in?”

“The can of strawberry vanilla soda. Into my bag.”

You swear your heart stills a little in your chest.

“Before,” is all you say to him.

He sighs. “y/n…”

“It’s okay, you don’t have to feel bad for me. I wanted you to have it, regardless of how I thought my confession would go,” you assure.

It’s hard to read his expression from the side while he’s looking up at the ceiling, but it’s softer than it was a second ago. The need to change the subject consumes you.

“Why do you have calluses on your fingertips?” you ask him. “You’re a soccer player, you don’t use your hands for anything.”

“I play the guitar,” he replies simply.

You perch yourself up on an elbow, looking down at him with interest. His eyes flicker to your face. “Really?”

“No. I was just kidding. Hate the way you got excited though. I might have to pick up a guitar now.”

“Can you just answer me?” you sigh, flopping down onto your back again.

He laughs a little, a sound you feel like you could get drunk on at this point. He lifts his head up off the pillow enough to tuck his right hand underneath it, then rests it back down. You wish there was a mirror on the ceiling so you could see the flex of his arm. “Coach has us do the rock climbing wall at the gym at least once a week for practice. He thinks it’s a good workout. Causes a hell of a lot of skin tear though.”

“That’s it? That’s the reason?”

“Mhm.”

You shake your head, “You should learn how to play the guitar, because that’s a lame reason to have calluses.”

He lifts his head up off the pillow again and brings the hand that was tucked under his nape to in front of his face and he just looks at it. You look at it too. “Why are you so obsessed with the state of my hands?"

“A girl can’t be curious?” you ask.

“They’re not that bad.” You wonder if you’ve made him self-conscious.

You watch the way he flexes his fingers open and then closed. He turns it around, and you can see the veins trailing down from the valleys of his knuckles, disappearing into the fabric of his long sleeve. You remember that party, the two of you in that bathroom, when his hands were all over you, and it’s suddenly a little hard to breathe. He turns his hand again so the palm faces him, but now it’s also slightly turned towards you too.

“They’re bad here,” you say, pointing to his ring finger where you see slight peeling at the tip. The padded skin of your finger touches his skin. “A little bad here, too.” You point to his index finger, careless enough to allow all of your fingers to brush against his this time.

He watches you. “Your hands are really small,” he comments, like it was a marvel to him.

You look over at him briefly, and there’s not a single sign of tension in his face as he observes the image of your hand next to his hand in the air above him. He looked like he was at peace.

“Yours are just big,” you tell him.

He knows he’s not supposed to, and you really shouldn’t have let him, but he interlocks his fingers with yours regardless, holding onto your hand. You feel the roughness of those calluses all across your soft skin. His thumb runs over the curve of your knuckle, almost in a soothing way, like he was trying to apologize to you for something. And this was the only way he knew how.

Something sobers him up, because he suddenly pulls his fingers from yours and drops his hand to the duvet. Your hand lingers in the air for a few seconds before you do the same. And now you’re both awkwardly staring up at the ceiling again.

“Sorry,” he says, barely above a whisper.

“It’s okay,” you whisper too.

The silence settles for longer.

He sighs. “It’s not you, it’s me,” he says out of nowhere.

“Huh?” you turned your body a little to face him, and he was looking up at the ceiling as if there was something across the texture that he was trying to decipher.

“I don’t want you thinking that the reason I can’t-,” he pauses, to think carefully about his words, “...that the reason I can’t return your feelings is because of you, or anything you’ve done. It’s been a while since I’ve liked anyone to be honest, and I’m just really not looking to date right now.”

You’re hurt by his words. Because even if he didn’t want to date anyone, you thought that he would’ve at least tried to for you. You thought that he had at least some feelings that the two of you could’ve worked off of. “Why don’t you want to date anyone?”

“Reasons.”

“Obviously. What reasons?” you prod. When he doesn’t respond, you sigh. “If it’s something traumatic, I get it. My hamster died in the fourth grade,” you say, “I’ve never known peace since.”

He turns onto his side to face you with a soft and amused smile on his face. “Sorry to hear that. What was your hamster’s name?”

You try not to feel hot from the burn of his gaze and you turn onto your back to look up at the ceiling again. “Mr. Guilmon,” you say.

“Like…guilmon from digimon?

“Mhm.”

“You like digimon?”

“Oh yeah, I used to watch it all the time when I was a kid. My mom wanted to name my hamster ‘Scout’ but I refused,” you tell him, blinking a few times as the memories from your childhood come back to you. A small smile makes its way onto your face.

“I love digimon,” he says, fast, like he couldn’t contain it.

“Really?” you give him a sidewards glance, a little surprised.

He hesitates slightly before sighing, turning over in the opposite direction to reach for his wallet on his nightstand. You feel the fabric of the duvet stretch across you from the movement, and you remember just how intimate this all felt. He’s laying on his back again, holding his wallet up in the air with both hands as he flips it open, then slides his credit card up out of the slot, and shows it to you. Digimon themed. You have to purse your lips together to hold back your laughter.

He turns his head to look at you when you can’t help but let a little noise escape your mouth, and you can see through the laughter-induced sheen of tears in your eyes that he’s frowning.

“Hey–”

“I’m sorry–” you're fully laughing at this point, hand over your mouth to try to contain yourself, “it’s just– oh my god— you’re the last person I would’ve expected to have been such a nerd.”

“I’m not a nerd–” he tries to argue but you snatch the card out of his hand to study it closer, and also to memorize the numbers on the back.

“Popular soccer boy Gojo Satoru,” you’re giggling, “has a custom Digimon credit card.”

When he tries to reach for it, you stretch your arm off to the left. His weight leans on you, chest pressing against the curve of your shoulder, arm extending across you as he tries to grab his card back. “Quit it,” he mutters.

“No,” you say, holding it further to your left, weakly trying to push him away from you.

“Quit it,” he repeats, face scowling now with what looks like embarrassment, and he holds his upper body up by the elbow, leaning over you even more to reclaim it, “or else.”

“Or else, what?” you say through wheezes, and it seems like something in him snaps because suddenly he grabs your wrist, hard, pinning it down onto the mattress, holding it there next to your head, and his entire upper body is towering over you. Shocked, you’re breathing fast, your eyes darting across his face, and he’s looking at you with a furrowed brow and a tense jaw.

“Or else I won’t keep my promise,” he says through a harsh breath, his voice low and rough.

You’re stunned underneath him. “What promise?” you ask, breathlessly.

He leans down closer, to the point where the fringe of his hair brushes against your forehead. “My promise to hold myself back from you.”

You swallow hard, chest heaving. You feel the heat of his hand on your wrist burning through to your veins. You try to squirm slightly in his grip, but he just presses your wrist down further into the mattress.

He glances at your lips, eyes dilated and stern, and leans down even closer to you. “Do you have any idea how bad I’ve been wanting to punish you for leaving me in that bathroom by myself?” he says in a voice so husky you feel the arousal build at your center the second your head registers it.

You can’t find your words. He keeps his eyes locked on yours, as if to make sure yours stay on his too, and you’re docile under him until he’s distracted you enough to pinch his credit card between two of his fingers and discretely pull it out from your grip. He then lets go of your wrist and disappears out of your line of sight when he flops back down onto the mattress next to you, tucking his card back into his wallet.

“But I won’t. Because I’m a nice person, and will respect your space. Or whatever.”

You don’t know what to say, your hand finding a place over your heart as you try to take deep breaths to calm yourself down.

“We should probably go to sleep,” he sighs after a minute, tossing his wallet back onto the nightstand and reaching over to turn off the light.

It’s dark now in the room, the only light coming from through the layered fabrics of the curtains. It's a cold light, possibly from the moon and maybe some dim neighboring white street lights, but it’s enough to where you could still see the slight texture of the ceiling, and maybe his face.

You both spend a few minutes trying to get comfortable. You try not to bump your butt against him, or brush your chest against his arm, but it happens a couple times anyway, and you mentally curse yourself for it. The rise of the duvet fabric from his chest becomes shallow with his breathing, and you think he’s fallen asleep, but then the two of you turn over at the exact same time, facing each other, eyes flying open and gazes meeting. It startles the both of you, but neither of you look away or say a word. The two of you just sit in the moment for what feels like hours, and very could’ve easily been.

You’re the first to break the silence. “You know, there was a time where I thought that you weren’t even real.” You’re speaking hushed, like you’re afraid someone will hear, even though there’s only two souls in this room right now.

“What?” he asks, a slight raise to his eyebrow. “...why.”

“I don’t know. You’re like this urban legend around campus. You probably don’t know it, since you’re in it, but the world you’re in is very different from the world the rest of us students are in.”

He’s silent for a moment, his face being briefly illuminated by the reflection of a car’s headlights on the windows of the surrounding building. “I think I know what you mean.”

You blink at him. “I thought you would have a few more follow-up questions to that, but I guess you’re surprisingly self-aware.”

He hums to himself. “I think I can just put it into perspective.”

“Perspective?” you ask. You’re hanging onto every single one of his words tonight. You don’t want a single one of them slipping through you, not understood.

“Yeah,” he says, “there are moments where I feel like I’m not in that world anymore. And it feels nice. To get out of it.”

You want to ask him when those moments are, but he’s quick to speak again.

“I guess that means I’m aware of the moments where I am in it, so I know that it exists, if that makes sense? I don’t know.” He looks down at your pajamas, at the dancing sloth at the front, and the crease to his brow relaxes slightly.

“Mhm, makes sense.”

His eyes are back on you, studying. There’s a strange look on his face that you can’t really comprehend. “I want to know about your world,” he says.

You breathe in deep, and exhale shallow. “My world is simple. I want to be a filmmaker and then live in a little cottage.”

He smiles at you. “A little cottage?”

“Yeah,” you say, “maybe in the countryside. The Italian countryside. With my own garden in the backyard so I can use fresh zucchini in my salads.”

“Any animals? Pets?” he asks, like he’s envisioning it all in his head too.

“Maybe some chickens,” you say, “I promised Mr. Guilmon I’d name another one of my pets after him someday. I have to keep my promise.”

He nods. “You do.”

There’s another silence, but it doesn’t feel awkward this time.

“Did you turn your photos in to your professor?” he asks.

“Yeah, I did,” you tell him. “Earlier this week.”

“Nice. What about your reference for grad school?”

“I asked him for it.”

“Oh?” His eyebrows raise. “How’d it go?”

“Mm…I was really nervous, but it went well. He said he’d do it.”

There’s such a tenderness to his expression that you feel so compelled to kiss him right now. “That’s awesome. I’m proud of you. That’s one step closer to your dream.”

You purse your lips together from his words, sitting with the warm feeling in your chest. You want to thank him again, but instead all you say is “we’re even now.”

He lets out a small chuckle. It comes from his throat. “You’ve said that so many times.”

“I know.” Because you can’t believe it’s all over. This little arrangement between the two of you. You don’t want it to be over. “I can’t remember when the first time I said it was.”

“That night,” he answers you fast and with certainty, like it was at the forefront of his mind, “when you drove over rocks. And we sat together on the curb. And I realized how badly you take care of your car. You don’t need thousands of chain restaurant napkins in your glovebox, by the way. No matter how much you might think you do.”

“Wow. I was almost romanced by you for a second, but you ruined it,” you mumble.

You’re instantly taken back to that night. You remember the gentle quality in his eyes as he stared up at the stars, and you can still see the reflection of that sky in his eyes right now with the way he’s looking at you.

“I really liked you that night,” you whisper, “I wish you were like that all the time.”

“Am I not like that all the time?” he asks, voice soft to match yours.

“No,” you say, “sometimes you’re mean.”

His eyes on you are gentle, somewhat careful. “I’m sorry for being mean.”

You wonder if you can change his mind. If you can will him to like you back, if you can will him into wanting a relationship with you. You want to be his exception, not his rule.

“It’s okay. I’m mean sometimes, too,” you say, “mean to myself for sharing a bed with a guy that doesn’t like me.” He’s looking at your lips as you speak. “I’m bad like that.”

“You’re not bad,” is all he says.

“I am,” you say, and you inch closer to him, until there’s hardly any space between the two of you. You look up at him, faces inches away. You feel so safe with him, and yet you also feel scared, because you like him so much that you would let him ruin you if he wanted to. You press a flat palm to his shirt, searching for his heart, and you find that it’s beating fast in his chest. “I’m a bad woman, Satoru.”

“y/n,” he says, like a warning.

“I mean it,” you whisper.

“You said you’d kill me if I touch you,” he reminds you, sounding a little breathless.

“I can’t kill you, you’re way stronger than me,” you whisper, “so touch me.” Your hand is gripping onto the fabric of his shirt now, tight, with desire. He’s looking at you with a whole lot of desire too, but there was something else there as well. “Please.”

He wraps his hand around your wrist–the heat of his touch that you so badly wanted, craved, finally on you–but it’s to pull you away from him. Your grasp on his shirt releases and he brings your hand to the front of your chest, laying it down gently before letting it go. Your wrist lays limp there, missing his touch. Limp in front of your beating heart.

“Let’s just go to sleep, okay?” he says softly.

Your eyes widen when you look at him, and you couldn’t even hide the hurt that settled across your face if you tried. Gaze dropping to his chest, you see the way it was rising with every breath he took, and for the second time in this life, you’ve felt so utterly rejected by him. You give him a compliant nod, and scootch back away from him before turning away. He stays as he is, watching your back, and you can feel his gaze on the nape of your neck.

Counting the minutes to fall asleep felt exhausting, but the last thing you remember before you closed your eyes was the feeling of a tear trickling down onto your pillow, wet and cold against your cheek.

–

You wake up the next morning to an empty bed, and an even emptier feeling heart. There’s also this weird feeling of disappointment within you, and you don’t really know why.

Grabbing your phone on the nightstand, you quickly search for the email with the men’s soccer team practice schedule, and you see that they had a sharp 8am practice this morning before the game in the afternoon. The time reads 6:37am, and you’re wondering where Gojo went so early in the morning before heading off to the practice field.

You went back to sleep for a couple hours, and then woke up again. By the time you took a shower, got dressed, and went downstairs to the hotel lobby to eat breakfast, it was already 10:00am and it was time to make it to the field so you could set up and calibrate your camera prior to taking photos for the match. Following Utahime’s gameday instructions, you took a cab to the location with all of your gear.

The Kyoto soccer stadium was less of a stadium and more of an extremely large and open expanse of grass that had enormous silver metal stands stretching across the perimeter. It was something you would expect of an area in the countryside, but security was still somehow tight across the fenced off area.

It was still a couple hours before the game, so the field was bustling with pre-game set-ups and the stands were empty. There were a few sports canopies being put up, as well as a small truck with workers that were working to stock up the hydration stations. A few men in suits were seated at tables with notepads and clipboards, looking busy in conversation and on what sounded like business calls. As you walk down the sidelines, you notice a few other people checking the distances between the goals and the chalk markings across the field. The stands were extremely close to all of the action, and when you look to the right, you see a couple of familiar faces there.

“Ah, y/n! We’re over here.”

You approach the group of three people, all seated on the lowest metal bench of one of the spectator sections. There were a bunch of tripods, cameras, cases, and laptops sprawled across in front of them. You recognize Hana and Minato, but you don’t recognize the other man sitting with them. You had met Hana and Minato at the game against Osaka last week, they were both professional photographers for the newsletter.

Hana hops off the bench and comes up to you. “It’s seriously so cool you’re here with us and that Utahime got you this gig,” she says to you with a smile. “Make sure your schedule is free on nights after matches, all us photographers usually get dinner together afterwards. You’re the baby out of us, so we’ll pay for you.”

You return her smile with one of your own. “That’s sweet, and sure I’ll try to.”

You glance at the man whose name you didn’t know, your gaze meeting his, and soon enough he’s jumping up onto his feet too and making his way over to you.

“Ah, this is Kaito. Kai for short,” Hana says, gesturing to the man, and then to you.

Kai extends his hand out for you to shake. He’s tall and a bit lean. His style is really boyish—totally nailing the street photographer outfit with the white shirt underneath a flannel one, and some Carhartt pants paired with some Vans. You reach out to shake his hand, and he holds onto it for a second longer than you would’ve expected.

“Hi,” you greet him and tell him your name.

“That’s a nice name,” he says with a smile.

Hana claps her hands together. “Okay! We all know each other now, that’s great. We should get started prepping before the players get here, I believe they’re scheduled to be here in an hour.” She walks over to the benches and picks up her digital camera. Minato grabs his as well as his tripod, then walks over to Hana’s side. “The way we usually do it is to split the field into corners, and each of us works that perimeter. The videographers are here too, so just make sure you don’t accidentally knock over or stand in front of one of their cameras.”

All three of you nod at her and you unzip your case to take your film camera out. Kai is next to you, looking at the device in your hands curiously.

“Kai, you can work with y/n for today since it’s her first day. Split up those two corners over there,” Hana says, pointing to the other end of the field. You and Kai look in that direction. “Minato and I will take the other short end.”

With a few more discussions and detailed instructions, the four of you disperse to your assigned locations. You’re a step ahead of Kai, although he should really be the one leading your stride since you’re the new one here, but he soon enough catches up to you.

“Is that a Canon AE-1?” he asks you, pointing to your camera.

You look at him a little surprised. “Yeah, it is. As vintage as they get.”

“Sweet, I used to shoot on film too. Second-hand?”

“No, third. Still cost me an arm and a leg, though,” you sigh.

He laughs. “They’re not that expensive.”

“I’m a broke college student. I sometimes have to choose between paying rent and eating food,” you say to him.

He kicks at a random can on the grass, sending it flying forward, instead of picking it up. “Yeah, definitely don’t miss those days.”

“When did you graduate?” you ask.

“From UTokyo two years ago,” he says.

You bend over to pick up the can he kicked and jog a little to the trashcan nearby, tossing it in, then jog back to him. “That’s nice. You’ve been doing this for two years?”

“Yup,” he says to you as the two of you reach the corner of the field outlined by freshly drawn chalk. He kneels down on the grass, sets his camera case down, and opens it up. Your jaw drops.

“Is that a—Leica camera?” you ask him, shocked.

He smirks up at you. “Sure is.”

“Oh, so you’re just rich, then,” you sit down on the grass to look at it with interest, marveling at its condition.

“Nope. I’ll bet I got it for cheaper than your Canon there,” he points to the camera hung at your neck.

You meet his gaze. “No way.”

“Way,” he says, pulling out the attachable lens before wiping at it with a microfiber cloth, “I know a guy. He sells used cameras. The only issue is you’ve gotta refurbish them yourself.”

You sigh. “Wonderful. Because I would know how to do that.”

He lets out a half-laugh, and you glance up briefly to look at his expression. He was amused. “It’s pretty easy, just gotta do it once. And then you’ll have a used Leica that works brand-new, all for just under a hundred-thousand yen.”

You’re looking at him with surprise again. “That cheap?”

“Yup.”

“Wow…” Your finger plays with the lens cap on your camera.

“If you want, I can send you his info. But if you want to meet up with him, it’ll probably have to be facilitated through me,” Kai says, “He takes clients by recommendation. No use in selling a used camera to an idiot that doesn’t know how to refurbish it. He’s looking for niche photographers that have the interest.”

You press your lips together, considering it. “Sure.”

He hands his phone to you. “Alright, gimme your number.”

You hesitate for a second before typing your number into his contacts then hand it back and watch as he saves it in his phone. “Canon girl. Won’t forget ya.”

The two of you make work for a second, eyeing the field and mapping out angles of where to get the best shots during play. Kai gives you some pointers and you’re marveling at how good they are.

“Not really used to shooting on film anymore,” he mumbles, peering through the hole on your camera when you handed it over to him, “but usually a one over five-hundred shutter speed works well for sports. I’d switch between that and over two-fifty though, to avoid a blurry finish.”

“Thanks,” you say to him, wanting to write all this down to not forget it. “Wish I knew this last week.”

“Why shoot on film?” he asks out of nowhere, handing your camera back to you. “Why not digital?”

“Oh, it’s a personal interest,” you say to him, adjusting your shutter speed as he suggested, “I think there’s a charm to it. I want to be a movie maker, and shoot on film medium.”

He frowns at you. “How are you going to do that?”

You tilt your head at him, shuffling on the grass. “I’m going to apply to the film graduate program at UTokyo to start.”

He laughs at that from where he’s seated across from you. “Really? That’s a waste of your time.”

Your heart sinks a little in your chest from his tone. “Why would it be a waste of my time?”

He turns to face you more directly. “y/n, trust me, I know this career path. Been there, done that. Millions of film majors like yourself always have these big-ass dreams like ‘I want to become a director, I want to do screenplay’ etc., but only one or two of them actually succeed.”

Your shoulders sulk. It’s not the first time you’ve heard those words from someone—your own parents practically recited them word-for-word before you headed off to college—but you had been doing really well all of senior year to ignore that nagging little voice in your head. It was honestly quite triggering to hear it all again right now. “Well, I think I can do it.”

He lets out a short scoff. “You sound real convincing there.” When he catches sight of your upset expression, he straightens his back a little. “My bad. Just trying to look out for you. I’m your senior in this industry. I know my way around these things. Trust me.”

You nod slowly. “I know. Thanks.” Part of you wonders if he’s just projecting.

“Well anyway,” he shrugs, “I think you should just focus on photography for now. It’s the safest career option for you to do.”

“I guess you’re right,” you say, wanting to diffuse the conversation.

The two of you disperse to your assigned corners once the stands start to fill with spectators. Shortly after, the players make their introductions onto the field, and you can see Gojo across the field. He’s too far to read his expression, but for some reason when you look at him, that disappointed feeling from this morning comes back to you. You try to push it down and just focus on your task at hand.

UTokyo does well during the match, and Gojo seems to be playing much better than the Osaka game last week, scoring two goals within the first half. There were a couple of times where there were throw-ins near your corner, and you made eye contact with him as he’s breathing heavily, wiping the sweat off his face with his jersey, and every time you look at him, that melancholic feeling washes over you again. UTokyo wins 3-2, the crowd evidently disappointed as they were rooting for their home team, and by the time the disgruntled fans started to clear the stands, the sun was setting over the horizon and the sky was a golden color.

The referees on the field begin to oversee the post-match proceedings with the players. Kai comes around to meet you at your corner, and Hana and Minato arrive there too.

“Hey team! How’d it go?” Hana asks, a little out of breath from her journey over here.

“Went fine,” Kai responds.

“It was a little tricky,” you comment, “but I think my photos came out well.”

Hana nods. “Alright, sounds good. Are we still on for dinner tonight?”

Kai and Minato nod, and then all three sets of eyes are on you. You hesitate for a moment, and look off past them to where you see the group of soccer players in conversations with the coaches and referees. You see Gojo standing there, his hands on his hips as he peered across the field, tilting his neck to the side repeatedly, and you realize he had been doing that all match long. That unsettling feeling within you starts to brew once again. “Uh, I’m really sorry, but I’m not feeling very well. I think I might just head back to the hotel.”

Hana and Minato nod at you with a concerned expression, while Kai just looks disappointed.

“Okay, well, I hope you feel better,” she says.

You end up taking an Uber back to the hotel in haste, not wanting to run into Gojo or any of the other soccer players after their match, and make it to the room, using the key card that Gojo gave you to get inside. You take a shower to freshen up, and by the time it’s 7pm, you’re starving. You put on a simple outfit and make it downstairs into the lobby of the hotel, about to go peruse the nearby dining options, but right when you step out of the elevator, you run into Gojo.

There’s a look of pleasant surprise on his face and you take in his appearance. He was still wearing his soccer jersey, covered in grass and dirt stains, and his face was slightly flushed from exertion. You figured he just came back from the field.

“Hey,” he says, “sorry, I was just about to head over there.” He jerks his head off towards the lobby, and you glance in that direction. There was a group of maybe thirty people gathered around the lounging areas and high-tables over at the business suite, and you recognize them as UTokyo’s soccer players, along with Coach Yaga and other team staff. The players were still all clad in their uniforms, carrying all their stuff, and there were plays of today’s game rerunning across the TV screens. You realize they’re probably prepping for interview questions for tomorrow’s conference.

“Oh, please, go ahead,” you say to him.

He tilts his head at you. “Are you doing alright?”

You were aware that things might feel awkward after last night, and that your cheeks would probably feel hot like they do now the next time you had to talk to him. Your mind takes you back to the memories, when you think about how badly you wanted him to stay with you in the room because of that hollow feeling in your chest from missing him, despite how you knew it was bad for you. Because this man standing in front of you doesn’t like you in the way that you like him.

And then it clicks. The reason for that feeling of disappointment you’ve had since the moment you woke up today.

When you glance up at Gojo this time, you see him differently than you had from a second ago. You finally notice the slight dark circles under his eyes, and figure out that the reason he’s been tilting his neck to the side all day was because he was trying to stretch out a kink. You vaguely recall that moment you woke up in the middle of the night, and your sleepy brain registered that there was no longer the dip of him in the mattress next to you.

“When did you leave the room?” you ask him. You know your voice is quiet when he has to lean down a bit to hear you.

He takes his time answering, indulging in a few breaths. “What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean,” you say, starting to sound hostile, “you left during the night, didn’t you?”

He doesn’t deny it.

“You left once I fell asleep,” you say, eyes widening with realization.

He sighs. “Yes.”

“Where did you go to sleep?” you ask, trying to keep your tone level.

“Suguru’s room had an extra couch. I pushed them together.”

You felt sick and sad, feeling something worse than rejection right now. There was a part of you that still thought that all of this from him was just a joke. A prank. That he was finally going to say just kidding, I like you too. The reason you’ve been so disappointed since the minute you woke up today was because there was a part of you that thought you were going to wake up this morning with his arms wrapped around you, back pressed tight to his chest while he whispers sweet nothings in your ear of how much he likes you, of how much he wants you, of how much he wants to be with you.

“Why? Even after I said I didn’t want you to have bad sleep?” Your voice was laced with hurt. You didn’t even know how to explain to him why it upset you, because deep down you’re scared it isn’t even valid.

“It’s fine,” he says, “I played fine today. And we won.”

“You could’ve stayed. Do you really hate me that much?” Your words are shooting to kill now. “So I’m good enough to finger in a bathroom at a frat party, but not good enough to sleep next to?”

He furrows his brow. “I don’t understand why we’re arguing about this,” he says, tone starting to match yours, “you’re the one that wanted space. I was just trying to respect that.”

“If you really wanted to respect my space, you wouldn’t have agreed to share the bed with me in the first place.”

“y/n,” he says, “that’s not fair.”

“You should’ve known better.” You’re breathing fast, tone searingly accusive. “You know that I’m trying to get over you, and that I’m vulnerable, and that I’m probably confused about a lot of things right now.”

“I ask if we could at least be friends, you say no because it’d be some recipe for disaster, then you practically beg me to stay with you and tell me to touch you while we’re laying down together. You don’t think that’s confusing for me too?” he counters.

Your cheeks flush with embarrassment at the memory of your desperate actions last night, and he instantly looks apologetic. You feel like you’re being unfair, but you feel like he’s being unfair too.

“I’m the one with feelings,” is all you say in your defense.

He swipes at his chin roughly with the back of his hand, smudging the dirt up to his cheek, and then closes his eyes for a second, like the weight of today has finally hit him all at once. He looks exhausted. “Right,” he says, softly, “I’m sorry.”

“Yo, Satoru!” one of his teammates yells from the center of the lobby. “Coach needs you, man.”

He rubs a hand down his tired face then throws a haphazard glance over his shoulder. “Yeah, I’ll be there in a sec,” he calls out and then looks back at you. You can’t make eye contact with him, and just stare at the print on his jersey instead. “I’ll sleep in Suguru’s again tonight. The room is yours.”

There’s a lump in your throat and you feel like you’re about to cry. “Okay.”

He reaches into his shorts pocket and gives you a room card. “Here’s the spare. I don’t need to come grab my stuff for the night, so don’t worry.”

“Okay.”

He sounds like he wants to say more, and you see him take a small step towards you, hand reaching out for you, but this time Coach Yaga’s stern voice is calling out to him too. He sighs. “Good night.”

“Mhm. Thanks.”

He hesitates before he turns on his heel and you watch his back, with that signature #10 stretched across the fabric of his uniforn, as he jogs through the hotel lobby to his teammates.

The walk back to the hotel room is depressing, and you find yourself dragging your feet all the way there. Once you make your way inside, you look around at the room and see some of Gojo’s belongings scattered around, but it didn’t seem like there were any of his essentials. You look down at the spare key card in your hand–a promise from him that he won’t try to upset you anymore tonight–and that lump in your throat from earlier comes back.

You hated fighting with him. You hated being away from him. Those feelings that you thought would go away just as fast as they came still sat so stubbornly within your heart, and it was becoming impossible to bear.

You wonder if meeting him was all just some horrible, twisted mistake.

Before you have time to dwell on that sad sentiment, your phone screen lights up with a message.

|| 7:52pm unknown number: kinda sucks you’re not here with us. was looking forward to showing you more of my camera

|| 7:53pm unknown number: this is kai by the way

The features of your face feel heavy as you look down at your phone screen. You don’t even notice your eyes are teary until you realize the blur of your vision makes it hard to see the letters as you type out a response.

You just wanted a distraction from all this pain.

|| 7:54pm you: can you send me the address? i wanna be there

a/n. grrrr i love a one-bed trope so much grrrrrrrrr it's gonna do it for me every damn time lol. thanks a bunch for reading!! there's still so much that i've got planned for the series haha i think the second half is gonna be a lot crazier than the first. super excited to write it though.

➸ take me to chapter nine!

taglist: @who-can-touch-my-boob @therealestpussyeater @lost-resonance @hojoslutoru @foulprincesscycle @luniunia @alekssashka7 @bsdicinindirdim @tsukikourito @getitsatoru @slut-4-gojo @cactisjuice @kissofife @tiredflame132 @cliosunshine @ethereally-lyann @btszn @prince-wyiilder @semra4 @gojosimp26 @drthymby @ninitoru @bbyxxm @fvsm4x @sadmonke @zoinks1010 @bakuhoethotski @horisdope @sykostyles @aquaberrydolphin @colouringfrogssittinginleaves @ri-sa20 @purplehallow11 @mwtsxri @ritsatoru @bxddiebloss @chwesuh-imnida @mo0nforme @viware @still-fking-single @megumisthirdog @gintokhi @karvokr @cierocanteat @imjustaweirdnerd (hope i didn't miss anyone thank u all sm!!)

2K notes · View notes

tailsz · 2 years ago

Text

Demon slayer men boyfriend headcannons‼️

(NSFW INCLUDED)

——————————

Includes : Tanjiro , Zenitsu , Inosuke , Tomioka , Sanemi , Tengen , Obanai , Muzan , Akaza , Douma , and Kokushibo

(this is my first post so bear with me AND english isn’t my first language so sorry for mistakes!)

—————————————————————————————————————

Tanjiro!

okay so we ALL know this guy has the sweetest heart so expect a lot of lovely dovey gestures such as….

Cute little morning letters if he leaves before you or you just don’t work as a demon slayer!

something along the lines of “i made you breakfast eat it before it gets too cold!! I hope you have a lovely day and i love you so so much”

(if ur parents are still alive 😍) he will absolutely win them over EVEN IF THEYRE THE MOSG HARDCORE PEOPLE EVERRR

he has a way with people what can you say

multiple lunch dates a week are a must! you guys go out and try as as many restaurants when you guys go on missions together if ur a demon slayer!

if not he will personally bring you takeout from his missions!

you and nezeko bonded a lot and she LOVES when you play with her hair it makes her sleepy ASAP (tanjiro walked in during the middle of this and his heart almosy exploded)

for y’all’s free time you both decided to try new hobbies together like Yoga, art , dancing ETC ITS VERY CUTE MOMENTS!

NSFW!

he’s a soft dom! but if you bring up the thought of you topping him he will NOT object

OH HE IS SUCH A ROMANTIC IN BED

Sex with him is literally the embodiment of “love making” because he showers you with love and pleasure

MISSIONARY 100% OF THE TIME

he is vanilla but that doesn’t matter because he’s drowning you with praises and caressing your perfect body <3

his aftercare is literally going to heaven and back

he’ll massage you and whisper sweet nothings into your ears

THIGHS GUY

———————————————

Zenitzu!!

at the beginning he’s really REALLY awkward

might even like be hella weird towards you (because you’re the first woman/man he’s ever been perused as romantically)

SO GIVE HIM TIME HE’LL GET THERE

Once he does he will quite LITERALLY will kill everyone in a room and then himself for you

you are his princess (your also his knight and shining armor because… well… it’s zenitzu…)

1000% shows you off like a medal of honor to ANYONE AND I MEAN ANYONE

this one time he was blabbing about you to a stranger to the point where said stranger just respectfully told him he doesn’t care

you had to STRAP HIM DOWN to prevent bodily injuries

he likes taking afternoon walks with you , he really enjoys the beautiful site with his beautiful partner

he randomly picks up flowers from the ground and gives them to you because they reminded you of him!

NSFW!!

he is a switch with a bottom preference

the thought of you just absolutely demolishing him will get his body all fuzzy and tingling 🤭

reverse cowgirl is his FAVORITE POSITION OF ALL TIME HANDS DOWN

the nights when it’s not just pleasure he likes to top you and take things slow to show you just how much you mean to him

as well as absolutely showering you with corny praises (he’s so silly!)

HIS AFTER CARE IS ODD

if he’s SPENT he will most likely pass out leaving you in charge of aftercare

if not he’ll just cuddle u to sleep

(totally not because that means he’ll see u naked again in the morning)

TITS GUY

—————————————————————

inosuke!

he didn’t comprehend the fact that you 2 we’re dating 🧍🏽‍♀️

you had to explain to him and half way through the was flustered and asked you to SQARE UP?? (HE HAD A NO IDEA HOW TO RESPOND TO THAT)

like zenitsu he was also very much awkward if not more at the start of the start of the relationship

But not awkward in a hes shy way

NO HES AWKWARD BECAUSE HE DOESNT WANT TO SHOW??? FEELINGS??

because that’s gross

Tanjiro and Zenitsu had to help the guy to at least an OUNCE of a romantic

he’s really not much of one though

his idea of dates or romance of training or fighting w/ you!

you don’t really mind but if it does get to a point where it bothers you by the lack of romance

HE WILL TRY (key word TRY) to be more affectionate towards you!

he sees a pretty rock? it’s yours!

he sees a pretty branch it’s yours!

he sees a cute cayote? It’s you-

the time he actually brought you one you almost SHAT yourself 😓

NSFW!!

oh he’s a dom

he views smexy time as a challenge

so you bringing up the idea of topping is you trying to WIN and he would rather DIE than lose

again the concept was a foreign area to him

and if you both get to the sexual parts for a relationship , he will seek guidance from you!

(while also refusing for you to demonstrate for him because he “knows what he’s doing” 😒

what’s aftercare?

he does not do it at first meaning you are doing it

after a while he’ll start picking up after you and do it himself

(if you tease him about it he will throw you off the bed)

ASS GUY

—————————————————————

Tomioka!

When he asked you out he said

“will you take my hand in a relationship”

it’s as serious as it sounds

he is comfortable as soon as you begin the relationship because of 2 reasons

for him to consider a relationship with you , you’d guys would’ve have to know eachother for a while

and because if you didn’t want him you would’ve said no

AND SINCE YOU DIDNT😍

hes 100% sure you guys will be just fine WHICH YOU ARE :D

little small gestures of affection from you will get his heart flipping like—

holding his hands ESPECIALLY WHEN YOU BEGING CONTACT WITH PINKY TOUCH 😓

(he’s touch starved FEED HIM)

the one time you begged him to let you style his hair was the day that he won’t let you do anything else BUT that

he loves how your fingers feel against his head

sending tingles down his spine of safety yk?

he carries anything you give him in his haori (like little charms!)

he likes it when you whisper sweet nothings into his ears it gets him all giggly

NSFW!!

he is a switch with no preference

he will be whatever you want him to be 😍

when he top’s he can get carried away with eagerness

when you guys have sex he very much loses his mind which is why he can be rough when he tops

HOWEVER WHEN HE BOTTOMS JESUS CHRIST

He will be a whimpering mess

being your little slut asking for more n more <3

being a hashira he can and WILL last very long

he’s 1000% into hair pulling both giving n reviving

as u guys last longer n longer into the relationship he will be more open to risks 😍

(like public sex)

this one time did the deed in a public bathroom in a restaurant while the rest of the hashiras were waiting on the food 🤭

He will run a bath for the 2 of you afterwards and fall asleep in each others arms<3

he’s an ass guy

—————————————————————

Sanemi!

like giyuu , for him to consider a relationship with you , you have a LONGG history

it took him a while for him to actually ask you out 🧍🏽‍♀️

it got to the point where he was going to lose you to someone else because of how long it took

shinobu “helped” to ask you out

and by help i mean he forced him to ask you out in front of her

shinobu top tier wingwoman fr fr ‼️(she had enough of him wasting an opportunity so she took matters into her own hands)

he will absolutely NOT do PDA (at least at the beginning of the relationship)

his ego n pride are too much for that

once he gets over himself he will at MOST hold hands with you ig 😒😒

he forces u to train with him

he is an AMAZING cook and makes you breakfast n lunch (house husband material!!)

he’s also surprisingly good at doing hair whether it’s short or long! (he makes u buns a lot )

he’s such a romantic behind closed doors

shinobu caught him in the middle of that act and while she didn’t tell anyone…

she teased him to DEATH

NSFW!!

oh he’s a MEAN top no questions asked

he will degrade you to the BONE (which you don’t mind 🤭)

he’s also very VERY rough hitting and attacking ALLL of your sweet spots on your body (inside as well 😋)

he loves calling you a needy slut 🤭

ONE TIME. he has a wet dream where you topped him and... HE WOKE UP WITH THE HARDEST BONER OF HIS LIFE

he will never ever EVERR bring up the idea of u topping him ( if you bring up he MIGHT let it happen🤨 he’s so stubborn)

HE IS SO MEAN WHEN IT COMES TO ORGASM.

if he’s fucking you because he’s jealous or you pissed him off???

he’s going to deny your orgasms for an hour ☠️

SEX DRIVE?? MEDIUM

STAMINA IS . HIGHHHH

he’s pretty average with aftercare , he’ll bring u water n a towel

on a good day you both will shower together! (50/50 chance that y’all will fuck again!)

he’s a thigh guy

—————————————————————

tengen!!

what’s another wife to the list?

all four of them (tengen n his wives) found you very attractive at first sight and they had NO shame into admitting that

after knowing you for a while THEY ALL asked you join the relationship! it caught u off guard 😨

when you entered the relationship they literally all wanted u for themselves 😓

tengen is SUCH A ROMANTIC AND WILL ABUSE PDA SO MUCH

if you’re a fellow hashira my god he will tease you in public so much??? and you’re like FOR WHAT???

hashira meetings will get HELLA awkward with both of y’all (everyone is just like “this again??☠️”

like zenitzu he will FLEX U SOO BAD especially to single folks because in his eyes being single is such a skill issue 🤨

his form of affection is expensive gifts so

EXPECT TO BE PAMPERED WITH A LOT OF JEWELRY 🤭 ( we love sugar daddies )

he also refuses to NOT take y’all on fancy restaurants because anything other than that is LAME AND TACKY 🤨

MATCHING OUTFITS ARE A MUST!!

after he retired, you guys have religious weekly movie nights a lot (you all take turns in picking movies)

NSFW!!

OKAY SO TENGEN IS A SWITCH WITH A PREFERENCE ON TOPPING

now he has 2 different ways of going about it

if it’s sex on One on One , HE IS SO MEAN??

he will 100% mock you during the whole thing

mocking when you choke on air or a moan is his specialty 😓😓

seeing you cock drunk will drive him CRAZY

thighs are so HOT TO HIM (thigh highs are a must!)

he leaves so many bite marks and bruises on your inner thighs

HIS HANDS ARE HUGE DAWG

he likes fingering before fucking and GOD HES SO GOOD AT FINGERING?

he can n WILL make u come more than twice with just his fingers😓

it’s a the whole group sex with him n his wife’s

he’s a sweetheart! taking care of his little princess nasty needs!

when he bottoms with all 4 of you on him he gets so cocky 😒

he loves how you all take care of HIS nasty needs in such a good way

HAIR PULLING

and he’s very much into orgasm denial HES A JERK

def a tits guy

bdsm king

—————————————————————

OBANAI ( i love him sm ) <333

okay uh

before y’all started dating he was so shy around you because??? you’re so??? perfect?????

if you so much as breathe into his direction he will literally die

he asked u in the most romantic cliche ever (but it doesn’t matter because he pulled it off so well??)

he made you follow little notes at night eventually leading to a tree that had a saying “will you be my mine and go out on a date with me?” with 2 boxes saying yes and no

at first you were confused until you saw a familiar snake 🤭 making you giggle you chose the yes box!

HE WAS INTERNALLY SCREAMING BC HE THOUGHT HE WAS BEING HELLA CRINGE 😓

moving onto the relationship…

he is literally the perfect boyfriend

when he gets needy n wants to talk to u , he sends kaburamaru to fetch you!

kaburamaru literally loves u too ! ( obanai also send u flowers through him!)

he gets jealous easy like VERY

he’s very protective of you ! and he expects the same because you are his and he’s all urs <3

will literally end the bloodline of ANYONE who talks smack abt u

at first, yalls kisses would be with his mask on. he still wasn’t ready to let that open yet

after a whole LONG while , he got enough confidence to kiss u with his scars and everything (which u appreciated and enjoyed very much <3)

he likes holding pinkies while walking together

he’s not really a fan of PDA but if someone is trying to flirt with u????

oh U BETTER BET HES GOING TO BE ALL OVER U (u don’t complain)

he makes flower crowns for the both of y’all daily <33

y’all have hella picnic dates it’s getting out of hand atp! y’all barely eat at home

NSFW!!

obanai is a top with 2 sides to him…

A- he can be the most sappy romantic when y’all have sex

OR B- HES LITERALLY BEING ASSHOLE TO YOU

There’s in NO between

when hes being a jerk he denies orgasms

and his liking to marking is x10

he loves leaving bitemarks he knows u can’t hide🤭

def into u riding him but HES in total control

u brought up that you like it when he puts his hair in a pony tail when y’all have sex so HE DOES IT ALL THE TIME

he’s not really much of a risk taker

will not stop unless your trembling😋

if he’s being sweet he’s take things slow making sure your enjoying yourself as well as him <3

will whisper sweet nothings <3

HIS EARS ARE SENSITIVE‼️‼️

he treats u like a goddess in aftercare

will get u water , a towel , a warm bath , tons of cuddles and a lil snack 😋

HES INTO BONDAGE

HES AN ASS GUY 🤭🤭

—————————————————————

Muzan 😨

to how you got together? you don’t even know

if your a human , you ran into while im a hurry ! you work at a flower shop and was carrying flower pots getting dirt all over his clothes

now he was so ready to end the puny moron who ran into him but..

when he saw you apologizing and apologizing your heart out he felt something? what the hell was that? well it’s not like matters… 😁

If you’re a demon you first of all had to have know him and been loyal to him for CENTURIES for him to even REMOTELY like you

once he does tho you’re always buy his side , like his right hand man/woman! it may seem like he just thinks ur strong but this is his way of spending time with u<33 (while being in denial😓)

now how he asked you out. he didn’t do anything fancy! he just called you in and he straight up told you he liked you and would like make yalls relationship more

if you are a human.. he brought you to a demon meeting and told everyone there that if they even THINK about doing ANYTHING to you he will turn them inside out and throw into the sun<3

he thinks akaza is the best fit for his lovely human wife! you guys get along rlly well

he will keep DOUMA FARRRR AWAY FROM YOU.

koko and u like to read and drink tea together! he finds ur being calming

if you’re a demon everyone already knows u but know muzan expects equal respect from them to you!

though he can be very cold at blunt at time , he can still be romantic towards you!

he likes buying you expensive things to make u feel like a queen

if a human or demon disrespects you in ANY WAY not matter how big or small?they will be no more 😓

NSFW!!

oh man no matter how i see it.

TOP

he’s the demon king he expects to be in full control at ALL times and 9 times outta 10.. HE IS MEAN TO U

Doesn’t matter how much he loves you , you will never be superior to him 🧍🏽‍♀️

certified brat tamer!

oh he’s definitely into marking you just the thought of owning what’s rightfully his gets him hard

he’s into degradation so much it’s a problem atp☠️

dont ever degrade him tho

he’ll make sure you NEVER walk again

he puts the d in bdsm

will not stop until you’re a whimpering and crying mess only able to scream out his name :(

he doesn’t know if he likes public sec because he doesn’t like the idea of the chance that people have on seeing what only HE can see

ON THE OTHER HAND. THAT MEANS PEOPLE KNOW UR HIS AND ONLY HIS EVEN MORE….

—————————————————————

Akaza!!

Whether your a demon slayer/hashira or a fellow uppermoon, akaza admired you for being strong

after all akaza think people who r both mentally and physically strong r the best as u can tell with rengoku

before he asked u out, he had to come to terms with it , as he felt he was betraying his late wife

after he accepted the fact that’s it’s okay to move on.. he asked you out in the most akaza way!

he got you a bouquet of flowers 💐 with a little note in it telling u about all the things that he absolutely loves abt u! after reading them , he asked you out!

if you’re a demon you both will be more relaxed about people knowing abt you’re relationship!

until muzan found out.. at first he disapproved because he saw no benefits from u two being in love 🤨

but later on seeing how you two empower eachother be GUESSES it’s ok 😒😒

HOWEVER IF YOURE A HASHIRA..

you two r trying to HARD to keep it super lowkey

it’s mostly night dates n visits you guys can do :( but it’s ok u guys make it work

because the SECOND one or both of ur masters find out… YALL R DEAD

REGARDLESS akaza is very flexible with himself (as a metaphor BUT HE PROBABLY IS LITERALLY)

he absolutely LOVESS self care nights with you!!

talking shit while doing eachother a face masks is one of his favorite pastimes! (the pretty mama gotta do what he can to stay pretty DUH)

douma teases him abt u so much it’s driving him mad

especially because douma is hella touchy w/ h JUST to piss akaza off

which it always ends with douma head on the floor��

NSFW!!

akaza is 100% a switch with a top preference

he teases u a lot.. BUT IF YOURE A HASHIRA HE STRAIGHT UP MOCKS U😓😓

like he’ll say things like “i thought hashiras we’re supposed to have a lot of stamina.. what’s wrong :(“ ALL WHILE HES SMIRKING

he likes eating you out before fucking you

THE THINGS HIS TOUNGE CAN DO TO UR BODY 😓

he is very rough with you, but holds back a bit if you’re human because if he goes all out he will quite literally break u

IF YOURE A DEMON THO YOURE IN FOR IT ALL😍‼️‼️

even when he’s bottoming he’s still being a little asshole 😒

he completely switches up w/ aftercare! he’s such a sweetheart making u a bath for the two if u to cuddle in for a bit<33

he is a THIGH MAN ALL THE WAY his hands r always resting on them 🤭

—————————————————————

douma!

oh my ?

ok douma likes energetic people so that’s a starter for him to start liking you and ofc knowing you for a couple of decades

i think the thing that sealed off his love for you was the fact that you didn’t treat him like he was weird yk?

you talked to him like he was normal person (well demon but you get what i mean! but he’s SOO far from normal ☠️☠️)

MOVING ONNN he asks you out by making a little game out of it! maybe like pictionary or hang man! it’s rlly silly <33

while your dating even if your a demon or human he will treat you like your made of glass

he views you like one of his dolls ! therefore your his precious

he rlly likes it when you style his hair , in fact he asks you to do so regularly

during the summer time it gets rlly humid n hot as hell in japan even at night so he used his demon art to cool u both off !

akaza asked you to blink 3 times if the relationship was not from ur free will when he found out 😨😨

u guys both have matching fans 🤭🤭

muzan has to literally rip his head off because douma won’t stop talking to u during meetings ☠️

HE IS A BRITNEY SPEARS STAN ‼️‼️

NSFW!!

douma is a switch with no preference it just depends on hows feeling that day (it’s mostly bottom)

He is such a bratty bottom i tell you, he just pushes your buttons til u snap

and snapping means you literally demolishing his ass until she can’t even form any sentences :(

oh jesus christ but when he tops?????

praying for u fr fr

douma is unfair as hell

HE WILL DENY YOUR ORGAMS FOR FUNSIES?? like NOTHING ABT THAT IS FUNNY??

he is súper into bondage

AND EVERYTHING HES SO KINKY

never feel afraid to tell this man any of ur kinks even if they’re weird bc douma will try it out with you no hesitation!

his aftercare is a little rocky but it’s nothing too bad..

at most hes get you both waters and y’all will just chill in bed or anywhere

speaking of anywhere.. HE WILL FUCK U ANYWHERE HE DOES NOT CARE‼️‼️

one time muzan heard y’all bc y’all are SO LOUD (he decapatated both of you on the spot)

he is an ass guy oh my god he can’t go a day without touching it 😓

—————————————————————

Kokushibo!!

okay first all i dont think he cares what type of personality u r (extroverted or introverted)

it does take him a while to accept his feelings towards you because he doesn’t many to get distracted from his duties

but when he pushes that aside he just straight up asks you to stay by his side for the rest of time 💐

he doesn’t do PDA because your love life is not the business of others (muzan thanks the lords for this because he does NOT want to see that)

you guys randomly found a black cat following you one time while on a mission and you wanted to keep it with him!

…..YOU HAD TO BEG HIM FOR AN HOUR BUT HE eventually GAVE IN💔

y’all named her Ei (he will never admit but he will kill anyone who harms her bc he loves her sm)

you like to kiss all 6 of his eyes after a long day (he expects you to do it regularly and gets upset when u don’t)

sometimes asks you do braid his hair to change up his hair style 😋

he makes u train with him to he ensure you’re able to defend yourself from anyone!

matching katanass!! (much to his dismay because god forbid y’all do something cute 😒)

hel likes to carry you in piggy back style a lot 😋

NSFW!!

oh he’s a top no doubt

he will absolutely NOT let u top

BUT YOURE OK WITH IT BECAUSE GAWD DAMN

he is so rough with you that’s all he knows what to do<3

before touching you he wants to see you beg for it he LOVES seeing you all pathetic

HE LOVES FUCKING YOU AGAINST A WALL‼️‼️

he loves it because that means your trapped within in him, with no where to go and he has you EXACTLY how he wants you

oh he pulls your hair a lot when you give him head 🤭

he’s always biting your ears bc he knows they’re sensitive 🤭

he loves missionary as the main position because he gets to see all the expressions he’s making you have <3

HE IS A ASS GUYS ‼️‼️

———————————————————

okay that’s it guys! leave me any request i’ll be happy to do so! <33

7K notes · View notes

wattpadbxtch · 2 days ago

Note

Do you reckon you can do Pazzi!moms, but like their birth story?

LMFAOOO RECKON. Yes chat I do reckon.😘

pairing: moms!Pazzi

warnings: none

The Best Team

“Aight, Az, deep breaths, ma. You got this,” Paige whispered, gripping Azzi’s hand like her life depended on it.

Azzi ain’t never felt pain like this before. Not after all them grueling-ass WNBA workouts, not even after both times she tore her acl. This? This was different. This was a whole new level of pain, and it had her gripping Paige’s hand so hard, she might’ve been cutting off her circulation.

“Paige, I swear to God,” Azzi gritted out, her voice tight as another contraction hit. “If you ever—EVERRR—talk me into doin’ this shit again…”

Paige let out a breathless chuckle, but her eyes were damn near glassy, like she was feeling everything right along with her. “Okay, okay, we ain’t even gotta talk about that right now. Just focus, baby. You so close.”

Azzi let out a shaky breath, her head falling back for a second before the doctor’s voice cut through the fog.

“Alright, Azzi, it’s time. Give me a big push.”

She looked over at Paige, and the second their eyes locked, it was like she found that last bit of strength she needed. Paige nodded at her, squeezing her hand. “C’mon, mama. You got it.”

So she pushed. And then—

A tiny cry broke through the room.

Azzi damn near collapsed back onto the bed, chest rising and falling like she just ran a full-court press for 40 straight minutes. Paige let out this shaky laugh, her free hand covering her mouth as they both looked toward the doctor.

“Congratulations, moms. You have a beautiful baby girl.”

Tears burned in Azzi’s eyes before she even realized she was crying. Paige was already gone, straight-up sobbing as they watched their daughter get wrapped up in a soft lil’ hospital blanket.

When the nurse placed Amara into Azzi’s arms, everything else faded away. The pain, the exhaustion, the world—it ain’t even matter no more. All that mattered was this tiny, perfect little girl looking up at her. Paige wrapped her arms around them both, kissing Azzi’s forehead, then Amara’s.

“She’s so perfect, baby,” Paige whispered, voice thick with emotion.

Azzi just stared, her finger tracing Amara’s tiny nose, her heart about to burst out her damn chest. “We really made her,” she mumbled, lowkey in disbelief.

Paige sniffled, laughing a little. “Hell yeah, we did.”

Azzi turned her head, meeting her wife’s eyes, and what she saw there almost had her crying all over again. Love. The kind that ain’t even gotta be spoken—it was just there, filling up every inch of the room.

“We locked in now, huh?” Azzi whispered, smirking through the tears.

Paige laughed, shaking her head. “Ma, we BEEN locked in. Been had you since 2017.”

Azzi scoffed playfully.

They both looked down as Amara let out the tiniest yawn, her lil’ hand curling against Azzi’s chest. Paige leaned in, pressing a slow, lingering kiss to Azzi’s lips, like a promise. Like forever.

And in that moment, Azzi knew—this was the best team she’d ever been a part of.

Guys btw i'm not a complete horndog. i love sweet things too and will most def write some😭 Also be hyper specific abt what u want bc i will do my best to comply frr

#azzi fudd #paige bueckers #pazzi #paige x azzi #pazzi fics #pazzi moms

164 notes · View notes

ithinkabouttzu · 1 year ago

Text

Ateez reaction to being big spoon ｡･:*˚:✧｡

genre: Romance; fluffy

warnings: kissing; a little suggestive on wooyoungs.

Description: The members of ateez reaction to being “big” spoon while cuddling you.

Hongjoong: He’s in his element when he’s holding you. It’s the best place to be. Best believe he is holding you while about to fall asleep or watching a movie. Really just anytime when he gets home and misses your touch. Soft kisses on your cheeks and neck, and the way his fingertips dance onto the side of your waist. He’s so soft and warm and gentle, he loves you so much and that’s one of his ways of showing it to you.

Seonghwa: He loves just wrapping his arms around you and finding a comfy spot in the crease of your neck. He’ll hold you on bad days, good days, warm nights, cold mornings, he can’t imagine what it would be like not to wake up or fall asleep with you in his arms. Kisses kisses kisses!!! He loves just kissing behind your ear or on the back of your neck, really just anywhere he can access, he is completely in love with you & ur cuddles!! :)

Yunho: Big spoon KINGGG, he lovessss just holding after having a bad day, the only better thing he has to do is hold onto you like you’re his favorite pillow until he’s fast asleep. I swear it’s the most comforting thing you’ll ever feel, his warm arms around your waist, feeling his soft breaths on your hair, it’s so calming and sweet. He’ll never let you go, not even if the house is almost on fire. Please never let this baby stop holding u

Yeosang: While he’s big spoon, he’s so fluffy and cute. Playing with your hair, and asking you how your day was. He’s probably the most positive when he’s cuddled up with you. Ughhh he just loves being that close with you, like he just feels complete. He’ll make sure over and over if you’re comfortable with your position and if you want to switch it up that you guys can, either way it’s so adorable.

San : He’ll be giggly and so excited every minute that he’s big spoon. Getting to be as close as possible to you is honestly a gift and he’s so thankful. Prepared to be soaked with his sloppy kisses all over your shoulder and back 😭 He’ll try and bring you closer and closer to him even though there is no physical way possible to do that LOL, he will not waste anytime just whispering in your ear how much he loves you.

Mingi: BEST CUDDLER EVERRR, sweet baby just loves holding you as tight as he can, you even have to tell him to loosen up a little bit just because he’s holding you so tight. He’s so soft and sweet holding you. And he almost ALWAYS falls asleep when he’s holding you, it’s just routine. That’s why you made a deal with him that you guys can spoon while watching a movie, bc he falls asleep before the movie barely even starts 😭

Wooyoung: He’s so flirty when he’s big spoon, whispering all kinds of things in your ear, like how cute you look under his touch, or how good he would look on top of you. He really has no chill. And when he’s really feeling spicy, he might even say some shit like, “Cmon baby, move on me, I wanna feel you” like OMGGG. But when he’s not like that he’s just so clingy and cute. Holding onto for dear life the whole time and never letting go.

Jongho: Please, PLEASE, let him serenade you while he’s big spoon. He loves just holding you close when he’s sleepy. It feels so completing to him after a long day. He usually takes that time to tell you how much he loves you. All that cute boyfriend stuff. He also catches himself just playing with your hair while being big spoon, either just swirling it, or twisting it around his finger. He’s your personal teddy bear when he’s big spoon.

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

981 notes · View notes

chrissv4mp · 3 months ago

Text

okay guys... time to get serious 😅

during the months that i've been on tumblr, i've made connections and friendships with many, many users on here and i'm sososo thankful for each and every one of my mutuals and followers because you guys have supported me for quite some time. joining this app was purely for fun and just my own entertainment, but while writing and posting my fics, i realized that it's so much more than.

but, anyway, i just wanted to make a little post because thanksgiving always gives me such a sense of comfort and happiness, and because you guys are some of the most awesome people everrr!!!

i wanna thank all of the following people for getting me to where i am today (both in the billie & sturniolo fandom) 🤍

@tan1shere @billiesguitar @bilsdillldough @bilswildflower @ifwdominicfike @xoluvx @hopelessfawn @afteraftercare @mseilishmwah @chrislilcumslvt @chrispotatos @mattsfavbitchhh @stonerfromlesbos @slxtarchive @meliciousmel13 @55sturn @24kmar @freshloveee @freshsturns @muwapsturniolo

@luckystarlogs @eilishslut @thenickgirl @strniohoeee @strnilolover @hopingforgoodblogs @madisonbeerssecretwife @karaeilishh @zayluvss @devynscomet @livvydunneness @bilsluckyheart @the-thing-withfeathers @iluvapplesxh @freshxsturniolo @ihavenoideayimhere @xoxo4chrisss @brat-at-the-disco @sophloveswomen @dominicfikeslover @dominicfikeenthusiast

i've made so many friends during the time that i've been on this app, and i'm sososo thankful for them!!! some friends have deactivated, but i'm always gonna have a special place for them in my heart.

happy thanksgiving, i love you all!!

#𐙚 — amiyaps #hugging each and every one of you virtuallyyyy :(((#matt sturniolo #chris sturniolo #billie eilish #sturniolo triplets #getting real w ami ᯓ ᡣ𐭩

88 notes · View notes

bxtchycaprisun · 1 year ago

Text

let it be me | a. anderson ONE-SHOT

summary: you’d been avoiding your best friend for weeks, and she was determined to figure out what was wrong. she never would have guessed your absence was due to your repressed romantic feelings, which she also happened to share.

notes: fem!reader, bsf!abby, softdom!abby, porn w/ a plot, mutual pining, friends to lovers, angst but in a fluffy way, SMUT, fingering (both receiving), pussy eating (r!receiving), thigh riding, dirty talk, lots of pet names, i think that’s it?

a/n: i know this isn’t obstinate, but it’s wlw season and i’m WOMANLESS, so i needed to write some smut.

MDNI!!! sexual content. comment if you want to be added to my tag list

(named after the ray lamontagne song)

you and abby never fought.

attached at the hip from the start of elementary school, the two of you were never seen without each other. and as new friend groups came and left, you and abby always stayed inseparable.

you were so close that she’d even followed you out of state to your dream university after you’d graduated high school.

despite the feelings that emerged in your early teen years when abby had grown taller, and the impact of her various high school sports was clear on her toned arms, you never dared to express your changing perspective of her.

other than some consistent cuddling most friends would consider crossing a boundary, the lines of your friendship never thought to cross between platonic and romantic. you figured that if she were to ever return your feelings, she would have by now.

and even though you two were only friends, in a way, she was yours, and you were hers.

or at least, that’s how you saw it.

that was until you saw her out with angela, her chem partner who you’d heard her complain about dozens of times, a girl you thought she hated. and they were drinking coffee and eating pastries at the east campus cafe, you and abby’s cafe.

and though you knew your perception of your relationship was nothing but a fantasy, it almost felt like a betrayal to see her like that with someone else. but of course, you couldn’t actually be mad at her for it, nor would you explain what was making you so upset.

so you did the one thing you thought was logical, you avoided her.

knowing that she would see right through you from the beginning, and demand that you tell her what was wrong, you tried to be strategic about it.

but you couldn’t a thing past your best friend, the girl who knew you like the back to your hand.

and you had no idea what you were in for if you continued your fit.

…

it had been two weeks since you sent abby the text, and now, as she laid belly down on her crammed dorm bed, she was rereading it.

y/n: oh my god abs, i’ve got the worst week coming up everrr. hannah scheduled me like double the hours i’ve asked for and i’ve got two exams! fmlllll

abby: damn, i’m sorry bun. still room for me in that schedule of yours?

y/n: you know it abby. text you later, off to work

the conversation didn’t worry abby much initially. but looking back on it, she saw it in a different light.

you didn’t make time for her. and she was determined to know why.

abby sat up in her bed, furrowing her brows as she remembered the date. it was a wednesday.

she opened back up her texts, quickly typing out her message.

abby: what time you coming over tonight? it’s october, so we can officially make our movie nights halloween dedicated :)

she pursed her lips worriedly as she awaited your response. she had been shot down daily over the last couple of weeks, always given the same excuse. work, exams, stomach flu, etc.

abby knew something was up, she just needed one final confirmation.

y/n: shit, i totally forgot! i promised i’d take my coworkers closing shift since she opened for me. next wednesday i promise!

abby felt her heart sink, the situation becoming all too real and unavoidable. you were angry at her, and she didn’t have a clue why.

she scrambled out a message, quickly pressing send and biting the inside of her cheek as she watched the unchanging screen.

abby: are you mad at me? please tell me what i did, and i’ll fix it

she watches with a tight chest as the bubble of your response appears and disappears. and as ten minutes pass with no text back, she throws her phone down on the bed, groaning into her hands.

if it had been anyone else, she’d assume you were just busy at work. but this was you.

abby sprung up from the bed, throwing on a jacket and slipping her feet swiftly into her beat up sneakers. the sneakers you’d bought her for her 16th birthday.

she swung open the door, grabbing her things and moving swiftly down the stairs and out her dorm hall. she tucked her hands under her arms, pulling her hoodie over her head as she walked through the breezy fall air.

she rounded the familiar block and pushed into the entrance of your dorms.

and before she could think twice, she brought her fist up to your door, banging loudly with her other hand stuffed in her pocket.

“open the door!” she says sternly, already hearing your movement in the dorm.

you pull the door open with a displeased grunt, but as you recognize the rosy cheeked girl in front of you, your eyes widen.

“a-abby?” you stutter, staring up at her with a guilty expression.

she stares at you, taking in your loose sweats and braless tank. you weren’t at work, and you certainly weren’t getting ready.

after a long pause, the reality of the situation setting in, abby speaks up.

“you lied.” she murmurs, her voice low.

you cast your gaze down, stepping back to let her in silently. you knew you weren’t gonna get out of this one.

she shoves her way into your room, shutting the door loudly and pulling her hood off to look down at you disapprovingly.

“so,” she huffs, throwing her arms up and crossing them against her chest. “are you gonna tell me what’s going on with you?”

you sigh, pinching your temples. “nothings… nothings going on i just-” you begin before being cut off abruptly.

“nothings going on?” she repeats desperately, “y/n, you’ve avoided me for weeks!”

“i- i haven’t avoided you,” you reply breathlessly, stepping forward. “i’ve been really busy.”

“oh right, busy,” she scoffs, “just like how you’re so busy right now?”

you bow your head silently, avoiding her burning gaze. “i- i can explain..” you say slowly, although you sure as hell didn’t want to.

“great!” she snaps, “good, let’s hear it.” she shifts her weight back and forth on her legs, her figure now trembling with anger and desperation.

you look up at her with pleading eyes, trying to find away to avoid this conversation if you had any hope of keeping your friendship the same.

you were so disappointed with yourself you felt like you could cry. for years you’d stuffed your feelings down, terrified not just of rejection but of your own selfishness.

abby was the perfect friend, she was everything you could ask for and more, and yet your inconsiderate mind desired more. and when she didn’t give that to you, you pushed her away.

abby watched your expressions alter, staring at you with her mouth agape. “well?” she asks in a final, breathless plea.

when she doesn’t get a response, her mind jumps to the only conclusion she could think of.

“you’re… you’re seeing someone?” she whispers, her face falling.

your expression twists in confusion and frustration at her accusation, shaking your head fervently. “what? what are you talking about?”

“you are, aren’t you?” she presses on, taking a step forward.

you roll your eyes at the irony of her words. “no okay, i’m not seeing anyone,” you huff, the attitude clear in your voice. “you’re the one that’s seeing someone,” you murmur, back turned to your best friend. your eyes widen at your own words, cursing yourself for letting that slip.

you hear abby’s breath falter behind you. “what?” she asks, voice somewhat amused which annoyed the hell out of you. “did you say i’m seeing someone?”

despite knowing how childish you were being, you narrow your eyes, continuing on with your antics.

“well you are, aren’t you?” you say with a pout, tilting you chin up at her.

at this, abby laughs at you. “y/n… are you talking about angela?” she says with a smirk. “i’ve been trying to tell you about that, so much happened!” she exclaims and you nearly feel like breaking down then and there.

your expression drops, lips curling into a proper frown as you turn away from her once again. she stutters as she sees your change in demeanor.

“yeah right, i’d just love to hear all about angela,” you mutter, unable to meet her piercing blue eyes.

“no no.. it was bad, okay, it was really bad,” she chuckles, rushing over to grab your arms and turn you to face her. but as she takes in your distressed expression, abby’s mouth hangs open, the pieces of the puzzle slowly falling into place in her mind.

“hey, hey, what is it?” she cooes, her voice softened as she brings her hand to cup the side of your face, stroking your cheek.

when you don’t respond once again, her back straightens, and she drops her hands from your skin, staring down at you in contemplation.

“you’re… you’re jealous,” she says quietly, her words laced with certainty.

you shake your head, stepping back from her with worry as she figured it out. “no, why the hell would i be jealous?” you heave, but abby doesn’t let you get away.

“because you like me,” she asserts once again, hands going for your wrists as she reaches out to you.

“hey, look at me, hey..” she brings her face close to yours, lowering to your height. your arms go limp in defeat as she holds you still, grabbing your chin gently to make you look at her.

as she studies your face, the way your eyes crease with uncertainty, she knows.

“you do..” she whispers.

the only thing you can do is drop your head in shame, praying silently that she would agree to just forget this conversation completely and return to your blissful friendship.

your murmur is nearly inaudible as a small “i’m sorry,” passes through your lips.

abby inhales sharply, taking your cheeks into your hands and lifting your head to face hers in a quick motion.

“oh sweet girl… don’t be sorry..” she breathes, brushing her thumb over your bottom lip.

she stares at you for a moment, chest heaving with her uneven breathes, contemplating the same action she’d been dreaming of for years. the action she never thought she’d get the opportunity of doing.

and just as your eyes meet hers, they flutter shut to the feeling of her lips pressing against yours.

you sigh against her, the tension easing from your muscles as she guides you gently against the door, running her hands desperately, yet hesitantly over your arms and shoulders.

the touch, the way her lips gently parted yours, her tongue rolling into your mouth with a soft hum, it was foreign, yet so painfully familiar.

this was abby. your abby. the girl who had been attached to your hip for a decade. the girl you had convinced yourself never to kiss and never confess to out of fear of ruining your perfect friendship.

and you couldn’t be happier as she did it for you.

you bring your arms around her broad shoulders, pulling her against you as your noses clashed together in a desperate kiss, her hands getting rougher and more curious, and so do yours. you tug her hoodie up over her head, touching her chilled skin from the cool fall air outside.

you feel her calloused palm reach below your shirt, grazing the soft skin on your belly, inching upward to your unclothed breast. you feel her hand suddenly stop, her mouth pulling away from yours.

“abby-” you call out her name in a slight moan, digging your fingers into her hair and tugging on her braid. you knew what she was thinking. you knew she thought she was rushing things, but you didn’t care. you’d waited so long.

“i know.. i know..” she nods, eyes nearly shut as she peers down at you, leaning in again to kiss you, slowing her rhythm and taking her time with you.

you whine into her mouth, brows furrowing as you grabbed her hand, trying to pull it towards your chest once again, and she chuckles against your lips.

“so needy,” she smiles, but with how shaky her voice is, she sounds almost hypocritical.

“neglected you for so long, huh?” she grins, kissing the corner of your mouth gently.

even though abby hadn’t had many relationships or sexual partners, mostly thanks to her hopeless pining towards you, she was undeniably more experienced than you.

you could feel the hesitance in her fingertips, the uncertainty in her eyes. knowing she didn’t want to rush you, you grab her cheek, pulling her lips away to speak.

“then don’t make me wait any longer,” you whisper, eyes looking up at her pleadingly as your thighs squeezed together, desperately trying to relieve the ache between your legs.

abby smiles, not missing a beat to crash her lips to yours once again, and this time her hand travels up your chest without hesitation. you whine as you feel her thumb brush over your nipple, and arch your back against the wall.

she dips her head down to your neck, peppering kisses along your throat, and sucking soft marks onto your skin. she groans as she hears your quiet moans, feeling like she could cum on the spot. she’d envisioned how you would sound so many times, but to actually hear it was so much better.

“you’re so fucking pretty, you know that?” she hums, large palms needing your tits as she pushes your legs apart with her knee, and slots her thigh in between them. “sound so fucking pretty”

your face is red and hot as you let out a quiet whimper in response, grabbing on to her toned stomach to pull her closer. as you feel the friction of her muscular thigh against your clothed cunt, you absentmindedly grind yourself against her.

“there you go, sweetheart,” abby praises you, hands leaving your tits to hold onto your hips. she gently guides you against her propped leg, and leaves small love bites below your ear as she whispers to you. “tell me if we’re going too fast, okay? you tell me.”

you shake your head, hips picking up their rhythm as you try to chase that sensation that slowly builds in your cunt. “not too fast, abs. i want more, please?”

normally, you would care about sounding too desperate, but since this was abby, you couldn’t hold back. even in this unfamiliar situation, you were comfortable with her. and even more importantly, you needed her so bad.

“you want more, huh baby?” she cooes, smiling ear to ear as she helps you keep up your pace. suddenly, her hands push your hips back off of her, and you whine in disappointment. before you can protest the loss of contact, she brings her hands to the hem of your tank top, pulling it off your chest in a swift motion.

her palms return to your waist, guiding you quickly against your small bed, her lips instantly connected with yours once again. she pushes you gently down, situating herself between your legs, and hooking a finger at the hem of your sweatpants.

the fabric is tugged down to your ankles in seconds, and she tosses the pants across the room with a shit eating grin. you can’t help but look up and giggle at her as she crawls on the bed to meet you, kissing up your stomach and on the fat of your chest.

“whatcha laughing about, pretty girl?” abby smirks as she sucks hickeys onto your skin. she tried her best to sound stern, but she couldn’t help but melt as she heard your laugh.

“nothing, this is just weird,” you can’t help but admit with blushed cheeks. “i just… never imagined we would be doing this..”

“oh?” abby says with faux surprise, “so you’re telling me… you didn’t imagine me doing this?” she asks mischievously as she takes on of your nipples into her mouth, sucking gently.

you’re breathing falters and you let out a small gasp, handing falling the the back of her head as she runs her tongue over your hardening nipple. “n-no i mean… i imagined it… just didn’t think we actually ever would.”

abby smiles against your skin, kissing her way down your stomach and settling between your thighs. “what would you imagine, bun?” she asks teasingly as she kisses just above your underwear. “would you picture me doing this to you? dream about my mouth on your cunt?”

with that statement, abby drops in between your legs, pressing her face against your panties and inhaling dirtily. she shakes her nose against your clothed pussy, nudging your clit deliciously. you cry out into your hand, instantly squirming from her touch.

you felt her start to kitten lick your clint through the fabric, causing you to let out an deep whine. you lift your head with hazy eyes, listening to her soft growls against you, which only made your stomach whir.

“abby pl-ease,” you say brokenly, desperately bucking your hips upward to chase the friction you needed, “stop teasing me…”

“m’not teasing…” she mumbles, her voice low as she runs her tongue flat against your underwear, applying pressure to your folds.

“a-ah, please!” you moan, feeling your cunt gush with more arousal.

“you are teasing me, you are-” you begin your protest when she suddenly yanks your panties down from your hips, and before you can process it, her hot mouth is licking a stripe from your hole to your clit.

you release a borderline pornographic moan at the sensation, eyes rolling to the back of your head. she doesn’t waist any time to start sucking at your clit with vigor, and alternating to lap up your juices.

you’re nearly shaking at this point, your chest heaving with every breath and hips twitching from every touch she gives you.

“fuck- i love the way you taste bun…” abby moans into your pussy, her hands keeping a bruising grip on your waist. “knew you’d taste good.. so fucking good…”

she already sounds pussy drunk as she flattens her tongue against your clit, helping you grind your hips against her mouth however you wanted. you continuously tried to close your legs around her head, completely overwhelmed by how good she was fucking you, but each time her palm would catch your leg, only pulling you further apart.

“gotta stop squirming, baby,” abby would growl as your thighs continued to tremble and your arms would thrash around aimlessly. you respond with an apologetic whine, already too cloudy minded to form words.

when you continue to move in her grip, she finally pushes your knees against your chest, keeping you firmly pinned with your cunt fully exposed for her.

“look at that…” abby cooes as she gives your pussy a small slap before dipping her mouth back down to your hole, lapping you up quickly.

“how many fingers you want, sweet girl?” she breaks away from your cunt to ask you breathlessly, before returning to suck at your clit.

you whimper from the added pressure of the position, head falling weakly against the pillow as you tried to clear your thoughts.

“ngh.. don’t know… o-one..?” you manage to muster, but you can’t already feel yourself tipping over the edge. anything abby gave you, you would take.

“hmm…” abby smiles against your pussy, keeping your legs pushed up with one hand while bringing the other down to slide through your folds.

you groan as you feel the tips of her fingers prodding at your hole, unconsciously pushing yourself against them. “we can do two…” she whisper as she slowly inserts her middle and ring finger into your pussy, hissing through her teeth as she feels you clench around her.

“relax baby… it’s only me,” she comforts you as she curls her fingers experimentally inside of you. you let out a soft cry, back arching against your mattress as she explores your insides.

abby watches your expression carefully, her tongue giving your clit small, stimulating licks as she searched for the spot that made you scream.

when she felt the spongy area deep in your core, and watched as you jolted against her fingers, panting out a moan, she knew she found it. she gave you one last lick, collecting the juices that leaked around her fingers on her tongue, she crawled up to your face with her fingers still deep inside of you.

her strokes were slow and gentle at first, teasing that spot with an almost unbearable pace. her eyes met yours and she positioned herself above you, but her pupils were darkened.

“i want to go harder,” she whispers, her voice low and full of lust. “can i do that, bun, can i go harder?”

you nod and quickly, grabbing onto her neck and pulling her lips against yours, moaning at the taste of yourself on her tongue. “please… so close..”

she didn’t need to hear another word before her pace turned from gentle to hammering. the air is punched out of you as she drills her fingers into your pussy, curling upward and hitting that spot with every thrust.

you were crying and moaning out her name, grabbing onto anything you could as she continued her rough assault on your hole. obscene squelches from your pussy fill the room, and your face blooms from embarrassment.

abby kisses you sweetly, in sharp contrast to the brutal pace of her fingers. you wrap your arms around her, hoping for a bit of her comfort to ground you in this moment. she immediately recognizes your need, bringing her forehead against yours as she fingered you.

“that feel good baby? yeah?” she whispers, her voice sultry as her palm rubs perfectly against your clit.

“m’gonna cum.. abby.. oh my god,” you cry out, fingernails digging into her back without even realizing. she clenched her teeth, the stinging pain only enhancing her desperation.

“that’s it sweet girl..” she mumbles, her pace unbreaking. “cum on my fucking fingers- let it out.”

without missing a beat, you feel your hearing practically go out, white hot pleasure coursing through your body as your orgasm crashes down on you. you shake, mouth open in a silent moan as you ride out your high, abby’s fingers never ceasing. your final sound comes out in a shattered moan, your eyes rolled back as you grind your hips into her fingers, feeling the best high of your life.

“good girl…” abby praises, her fingers slowing down even so slightly as she watches your expression.

“good. fucking. girl.” she finishes, her pace coming to a stop as she feels you tense up from the overstimulation.

you fall against the mattress, your face completely red from your post-orgasm, and your chest heaving with every breath. abby takes her fingers out of you, shoving them into her mouth and licking them clean.

you watch her in amazement as she lowers down to your face, pressing her lips against yours gingerly. you smile against her, pulling her closer by your shoulders until she practically falling on top of you.

“y/n,” abby giggles, trying to remain propped up from her elbows. “i’m gonna crush you!”

“don’t care,” you shake your head with a wide grin.

she smiles, kissing you again, but this time with a little bit more desperation. her tongue slips past your lips, massaging the inside of your mouth.

you tug on the waist band of her sweats, looking up at her with a pout. “take ‘em off,” you whine.

abby smirks at your plea, shaking her head. “so bossy,” she mumbles, pulling down her pants and tossing them aside. you instantly spring up on your knees, smashing your lips against hers.

abby flinches a bit, startled by how quickly your fingers find their way to the waistband of her boxers. you yank them down her muscular thighs, diving your much smaller fingers between her folds as you kiss her sweetly.

“woah- baby,” abby breathes, her voice almost failing her as she grabs onto your wrist. “what’re you doing?”

“returning the favor, silly,” you grumble against her lips, smiling as you feel just how wet she is. “i think i got you a little excited,” you giggle.

“no.” abby shakes her head firmly, “you’re not the one that gets to tease me.” she tries to sound stern, but the shake in her voice didn’t go unnoticed.

it wasn’t often that abby was on the receiving side. but staring down at you, with your eyes blown wide staring at her dripping cunt, she couldn’t help but grow just as desperate. she needed this too.

you palm her aching pussy, watching in awe as she bucked her hips against you, bringing her hands up to clutch the headboard. you hold your breath to surpress your own moans at the sight, wanting to only hear her soft sighs and the dirty sounds of her wetness.

“fuck… yeah like that,” abby groans, head falling back, and her knees trembling as she stays upright for you, not even realizing how she’s furthering spreading her thighs, and grinding into your palm.

she felt herself getting red the moment she realized she was already about to cum. but the pleasure was too consuming, and she was too pent up to feel any embarrassment.

the second you slipped your middle finger into her folds, your thumb instantly finding her clit, she toppled over the edge. she released a strained moan, instantly falling against you. she props herself up on the headboard to keep up her weight, and lets her head fall into your neck. she brings one hand down to cover yours, keeping your palm in place as she practically humps your fingers. she rides out her orgasm in shuddering breathes.

you watch her in shock and awe, remaining silent as she started to come down. she pulls your hand away, burying her face further into your neck with a deep sigh.

“did you just..” you begin, and she could practically hear your smile.

“yes..” she groans, rolling her face towards yours and pressing her lips at the base of your throat.

your grin widens as you stare up at the ceiling, stroking her back carefully. abby lifts her head, and secures her arms around your waist.

in a quick movement, you are rolled on top of her, your legs intertwined. she holds you tight to her chest, kissing the top of your head affectionately. you blush as you feel the stickiness between both your legs.

“we’re a mess,” you say softly, smiling up at her.

“leave it for now,” she whispers, fingers tracing shapes on your bare back. “wanna stay like this for a minute.”

you lay there in silence, listening to each others slowing breaths. and in that moment, you knew this was what it was supposed to be all along.

abby’s words come out in a content hum, her fingers affectionately pinching at the soft fat below your ass.

“sorry for making you wait so long, sweet girl.”

“you’re forgiven.”

#abby anderson x you #abby anderson #abby tlou #abby anderson fic #abby anderson one shot

558 notes · View notes

pattypanini · 5 months ago

Text

Sam Kiszka x Reader Temptations

Summary: After a concert with your shitty boyfriend, a trip backstage with Sam doesn't seem too bad?

Word Count: 7.5k

Taglist for Oneshots

A/N: First off, we are veryyyy sorry. Marley and I have had the busiest summers everrr. But we are back at school! Which means we can grind on this tumblr account again! We started this during the summer and just have now finished it, along with LAYLOM and many more one shots which we plan on posting. We hope you take this one shot as an apology. Expect more to come very soon!!!! Love, Sam and Marley <3

Warnings: 18+, Slight cheating (this will not be for everyone) SMUT, penetrative sex, fingering, degrading, hickeys, dirty talk, slight submissive/dom, flirting, slapping, mentions of pregnancy, slight coercion.

PRECEDE WITH CAUTION. THIS IS NOT FOR EVERYONE!

Y/N's POV

It was your boyfriend’s idea to go out tonight. He said something about “being in a new city and having to hit up all the hot spots”. But you couldn’t really care less. You were more excited about the concert you two would be attending tomorrow. But him being the sweetest boy he is, you caved and somehow ended up in this random bar in Charleston.

You are sitting beside your boyfriend, Lucas, at the barstools lining the bar sipping on a margarita. You fiddle with the hem of your floral sundress, just barely paying attention to Lucas’s aimless chatter. You weren’t bored per say, but you’d rather be cuddled up in the hotel room watching some cheesy movie.

“You excited for the concert tomorrow?” Lucas asks after taking a sip of his beer, a smile plastered across his tanned face. He runs his hand through his chestnut hair, gorgeous blue eyes piercing right through you. Man, are you lucky. Even after a rocky year and a half this man still somehow manages to give you butterflies.

“Of course I am. I have been looking forward to it for the past six months.” Six excruciatingly long months of waiting. You take another sip of your drink before continuing, “Thank you for buying the tickets, honey.” You smile at him, reaching your hand out to rub his arm.

He had purchased the tickets as an anniversary gift, and it was arguably one of the best presents you had ever received, seeing that most of his gifts were half-assed. He knew how much you loved Greta Van Fleet and was thoughtful enough to get tickets as soon as they went on sale.

“Of course baby. Anything for the best girl in the world. I’m super pumped too ya know.” He lifts your hand off of his arm, bringing it to his mouth to place a light kiss on it. He places it back down on your thigh, his hand lingering on yours.

You give him a look of warning, but he still proceeds trailing his hand up your inner thigh.

“Lucas, come on. We’re in public, have some decency.” You peel his hand off of you, placing it back in his own lap.

“Stop being such a bitch, can’t you ever have fun?” He snaps back with a roll of his eyes.

You shrug off his hostile words, because it was nothing you weren’t used to. A few minutes pass by, neither of you talking to the other.

You’re starting to get a little hungry, so you convince Lucas to order some appetizers. You both decide on some mozzarella sticks and fried pickles. As he is grabbing the bartender's attention, you hear the door open.

It wasn’t a super busy bar, you always tried to find little hidden gems in the area and this was one of them. As the door opens, four very familiar looking men come walking through the door.

Holy shit.

Greta Van Fleet is walking into the bar you are in, and no one even knows who they are. They make their way to the bar and not a single person bats an eye. You blink a few times just to make sure your eyes aren’t deceiving you. Nope, not deceiving.

You stare off into space, trying to stay calm about the situation at hand but you are quickly caught.

“Y/n. Y/n? Are you listening?” Waving his hand in front of your face.

You snap yourself out of your trance. “Yeah. Yeah, it's just uh… I think Greta Van Fleet just walked in.” His eyes widen as he whips around in the barstool to look over his shoulder.

“That's definitely them babe, go over say something.”

“No no no, I am not doing that. They probably don’t want to be bothered” You shake your head.

Lucas smiles at you, knowing how nervous you are just being in the same room as them.

“What if I go with you?” He reaches to his left, grabbing your hands in his.

“Okay fine, but you have to stay with me.” You stand up from the bar seat, feeling as if you could fall over at any moment. Your shaky legs start making their way over to them, you can hear Lucas’s steps from behind you.

They are within six feet now, your heart is pounding in your chest. Now or never. You decide to approach Sam first considering he looked to be the one least occupied.

“Hey, you’re Sam from Greta Van Fleet.” Your mouth somehow forms the words.

Sam turns towards you, giving you a slow look up and down before saying a thing, but his body said so much. “I am, you can call me Sammy though, beautiful. What’s your name?”

“Um, Y/n.” You were feeling your cheeks burn hotter and hotter with each second passing. Beautiful? What the actual fuck.

“Ah, nice to meet you y/n, and what’s your brother's name?”

“Oh, uh, he’s my boyfriend. This is Lucas.” Lucas reaches his hand out to shake Sam’s, and Sam returns with a weak, uninterested shake back.

“Ha, well I assumed you were related, seeing that you look similar.” You’ve never gotten that one before. “I mean you would have gotten the good genes if it was true.” What is up with this guy?

“So are you from around here?” He looks directly at you, only wanting your answer.

“No, we're not, we're from Virginia. We’re just visiting for the concert actually.” You smile, feeling bashful that you’re talking to the Sam Kiszka right now.

“Ohh, that’s awesome. Hey boys, this lovely lady is going to be at our concert tomorrow.” He says to the rest of them, pointing at you. Lucas is still awkwardly standing behind you.

“How wonderful, where will you be sitting?” Josh asks, reaching out to softly shake your hand.

“Well we won’t be on the floor, if it was up to me we would be but Lucas got the tickets for our anniversary. But we're still pretty close, on the left third row up.”

“Jeez man can’t even get her closer seats.” Sam says under his breath, which is quickly shut down when Jake elbows him for his spoiled behavior.

Lucas just laughs at what he thinks is a joke. Poor boy, how stupid and clueless.

“Oh babe I think the appetizers are coming soon, I’ll go wait for them. As long as you are okay with that?” Lucas reaches for your hand, making sure you are calm and comfortable.

“Yeah, yeah I’m good I’ll be over soon.” You smile at him as he makes his way back over. Sam on the other hand was staring him down as he made his way back to the other side of the bar.

You didn’t know what to say to any of them, you’ve dreamed of a moment like this but now that it’s actually happening you don’t know what to say.

“Um, am I able to get a picture with all of you, this is like crazy to me.” They all nod and smile and you ask the bartender to take your picture. The boys push you to the middle, surrounding you. Sam stands directly to your left, and Jake to your right, while Josh and Danny stand on both ends.

Jake places a hand on your shoulder, pulling you in. As the bartender is about to take the picture Sam places a hand around your waist, pulling you in his way.

You feel a rush of butterflies fly through your stomach as you feel his fingers press harder into your side. After a few photos everyone disperses and takes their seat. You wanted to leave them be but also wanted to stay around a little longer.

“Hey Sam, do you think I could get a photo with just you? I don’t like picking favorites but…,” you bring your hand up to his ear as if you were telling him a dirty little secret, whispering,” …you're definitely mine.”

With a smirk plastered across his face he stands back up grabbing the phone and handing it to Josh.

Just like before his large hands make its way back to the familiar spot it just was on. You lean into him, trying to look as natural as possible. After a short moment of Josh taking at least 20 photos he hands you back your phone, but Sam never lets you out of his grip. Instead he pulls you closer, his face next to your ear.

“I wanna see you after the concert tomorrow, got it?” You didn’t know what to say, you stared at him thinking that you misheard. “Now go back to your ‘boyfriend’ and let him think you're his for one more night.” Sam releases his grip, sending you off with a smile and wave.

What? Your mind was racing a million miles a minute, not sure what to think about everything that happened in the span of only 10 minutes. You shakily walk back over to Lucas where he and your appetizers were waiting.

“So how was it? I know you didn’t want me to leave but you looked awfully comfortable over there.” Taking a bite of the mozzarella sticks, he's now scowling at you.

“It was awesome! I talked to all of them and got some pictures.” You pull your phone out showing him the group photo you took, leaving your one on one photo with Sam out of the conversation.

“Wow that's so cool, babe.” He is barely listening, sounding like he's never been more bored in his life.

“So cool,” you think in your head about how you want to bring up the fact that you were asked backstage. “Oh and Sam said he wants to see me after the concert.”

“Oh wow babe, maybe he’ll wanna talk to us and we can get some autographs.”

“Yeah, maybe.” You stirred your drink thinking about the events of tonight. Your heart still palpitating from the unexpected interaction from only moments ago. Much has happened on your trip to Charleston, and it has barely just begun.

—

You stand in the foggy bathroom of the hotel room you and Lucas were staying in for the weekend. It’s a nice, clean hotel room, nothing super spectacular though. But you didn’t mind. You take a long everything shower and are feeling ready for the night.

You slip on your tight black dress, wrapping your silver belt around your waist. You decide to do your hair next, opting for some simple curls. You do a bold, glittery silver makeup look. You finally tug on your black heeled boots. You begin to walk out of the bathroom, but then remember you didn’t put any perfume on. You go back into the bathroom to spray a generous amount onto your body, ya know, just in case.

You knew it was silly to think that anything would even happen between the two of you , but it’s every girl's dream. And maybe it’s bad to think while having a boyfriend but, who wouldn’t have a one night stand with one of the boys, right? It’s like a hall pass.

You rush out to the main room, not wanting to be late. Lucas is already sitting on the bed waiting for you. You grab a small bag with the necessities and check yourself over in the mirror.

You can see Lucas’s reflection in the mirror, his gaze solely focused on your ass and how it fits in your dress. “Damn, babygirl. You look smokin’.”

“Thanks babe, we should probably get going. I don't want to be late.” You begin to walk over to the door to leave, but Lucas is still sitting on the bed. “Ya coming?” You question him, god he can be so fucking annoying sometimes.

“I mean we won’t be too late, why don’t you come back over?” He smirks, patting on the bed.

“No Lucas, come on. I want to go.” You cross your arms in front of you, waiting for him.

“God you’re so fucking insufferable sometimes y/n. A guy can’t even get fucking laid?.” Lucas pushes off the bed and grabs the keys.

Lucas was very sexually driven. He always was. You both met on Tinder and all it was supposed to be was a one night stand, but it slowly turned into more. And while you loved him for how sweet he was, there was always the other side of him that you wish didn't exist.

“Okay Lucas, whatever. Be angry that I don’t want to have fucking sex with you right now when we have somewhere to be.” You roll your eyes and roughly pull open the door leading out to the hall.

—

After what felt like the longest drive ever, filled with silence and anger, you make it to the arena. Lucas went straight to his seat while you made your way to the merch stand. You tried to go as long as you could without having to be with him. When you heard music start to play you quickly rushed to your seat to watch the openers.

Your seats were good, you could see the stage perfectly. After the openers finish up, you wait anxiously in your seat for Greta to come on. You find it hard to believe you’re about to see Sam again and you wonder if he would be able to see you too. You hope he did. You also hope that he will remember what he said last night at the bar. But knowing how busy their lives are, your hope of meeting him backstage was feeling less of a reality.

You hear the orchestra music begin to lull and you know they are coming on any minute now. The moment of tension between you and Lucas subsides, and you both begin to feel the excitement.

The crowd is cheering so loudly you think your eardrums might burst. The curtain falls and suddenly there stands the man you were in a scandalous conversation with.

The boys take their places on stage and the opening notes ring throughout the arena. You couldn’t believe how close you are to him. You knew the seats were close but this is closer than you thought.

There was a perfect view of Sam’s side profile. His perfect side profile, perfect body, perfect hair, perfect fucking everything. After all the attention you had got from Sam last night you were feeling jealous of the girls closer to him. At some points you had forgotten that Lucas was even with you, until you felt his hand snake around you making you feel strange.

You gently shrug his hand off of you, wanting to dance and sing along without him being all over you. He immediately makes a sour face accompanied with a disbelieving scowl. He takes a large gulp of his beer, deciding to finally mind his own business. Your gaze travels right back to Sam, his hair now a little damp from his sweat.

He looks over at your section and you swear he gives you a flirty, little wink. Sure, maybe you are being a tad delusional but he does know where you are sitting and last night he was being quite cheeky with you.

As the show went on you shared more than a few glances, some lasting more than expected, and because of that someone was getting very jealous. Everytime Sam would look at you Lucas would roll his eyes and take a big swig of his drink. But you didn’t care, you were too in the moment to realize.

As the show comes to an end, you take your seat, not knowing if you should leave. I mean sure Sam said he wanted to see you again, but he could just be saying that to everyone. But you couldn’t lose the opportunity.

Lucas finishes his drink and digs the keys out of his pocket. “Alright let's go y/n, I couldn’t have you before the show but I sure as hell can after.” He says giving you a flirty look.

“Um Lucas, don’t you remember? Sam wanted to take me backstage. I can’t miss this opportunity.” You hold your ground, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Oh my god y/n give me a break. He’s not going to do that, and even if he did I wouldn’t let you. Not after all the looks you were giving him.”

“So what I’m gathering from that is you don’t trust me?!” You furrow your eyebrows at him in pure anger. You had tried your best all night to suppress your irritation, but now he was working on your last nerve.

“That’s not what I-” He starts.

“Just save it. You’ve been acting like an ass to me all night. I was just trying to enjoy the concert. Besides, this is a fucking anniversary present anyway and you’re treating me like I’m a child.”

“Excuse me ma'am.” You hear a voice come from the floor down below you. A large man in a security shirt looks up to you and Lucas. “Sam Kiszka asked to see you backstage if you are willing to follow me.”

“Omg yes definitely-” You start before you’re interrupted.

“No, y/n, you are not going.” Lucas cuts you off before you could say anymore, while grabbing onto your arm rather forcefully.

“Um yes I am. This is once in a lifetime Lucas, I won’t let you ruin this for me just because you're jealous and wanna go home to get your dick sucked. You can go, I'll get an Uber back to the hotel.” You grab your bag and begin to make your way to the stairs before you're grabbed again.

“You think you’re gonna be with him all night or something? Honestly go ahead y/n. Go fuck him, you obviously want to be with him more than me tonight. I should have known you were such a bitch.” He begins to walk away and towards the exit and you just let him. He just couldn’t stand being happy for you.

You’d have a conversation with Lucas at some point, but you are a little more focused on the fact that Sam Kiszka is waiting for you backstage currently.

You turn to face the security guy with an apologetic look, “I’m so sorry about him. I’d love to go backstage.” You give him a sweet smile in which he returns.

“No problem, ma’am. Follow me right this way.” He leads you down the steps onto the floor and walks you to the back of the stage. The nerves were building up as was the anticipation of seeing Sam again. And he requested to see you.

You walk past all the backstage workers beginning to pack up the stage equipment, not a trace of any Greta Van Fleet member. You still find it hard to believe this was even happening right now, and who knows what's going to happen when you reach Sam. The fact you just had a severe argument with your boyfriend only minutes ago, and not even knowing where the two of you stood at the moment, complicated things even more.

The security guard stops just short of a black door, labeled with the name Sam Kiszka.”Feel free to knock on the door ma’am, he's just inside.” He points in the direction of the door, smiles, and then turns to walk away. He didn’t even give you a chance to thank him, before he was out of sight. You’re left alone now, in front of Sam’s door. You take a deep breath trying to steady yourself before you knock.

You feel your hand shake as you bring your fist to the door, rapping your knuckles against it. After a few moments you hear the door knob jiggle. Oh my god. There he is, again.

His body still glistening with sweat as he opens the door for you, smirking looking down at you. He plops down onto the couch in the corner, patting the cushion next to him. “Sit down babydoll, I wanna hear your thoughts.” You take a seat beside him. He drapes his arms across the back of the couch, brushing your hair in the process.

“Um It was really good. It was hard to take my eyes off you, you did amazing.” You realize his gaze on you, making you nervous and shift in your seat.

“I’m so happy you liked it.” Taking a piece of your hair, and twirling it in his fingers. “So what about, hm Linus? Luke, I don't care to remember. Where is he?”

“Oh Lucas, well he wasn’t invited back, which is fine he understands. Well…not really, but it’s fine. He’s been a real dick all night anyways so the time away from him is good.” You feel the anger rising back up again just from the simple thought of Lucas right now.

“He’s no good for you babydoll, you need someone to treat you right. Make you feel good, make you happy.” His hand that was once gently intertwined in your hair is now grasped around the back of your neck.

You shift to face him.“Do I? And who do you suppose could do that for me?” He is so fucking bold, and apparently so were you with this newfound confidence.

“Look right in front of you babe.” His lips form a straight line, his eyebrows practically raised to his hairline.

“Sam, I have a boyfriend.” The devil on your shoulder is so badly telling you to give into him.

“And? I’m so much better than him y/n, open your eyes. Like seriously, what does he have that I don’t, because it doesn’t seem like much. Last time I checked he wasn’t a musician in a popular rock band who also happens to be a millionaire.”

Such a cocky fucking man. But you’d be lying if you said it didn’t turn you on.

“Well he pays for our rent, makes dinner once a week...lots of stuff.” You are trying to convince yourself. It's not really working.

“Baby, if you were mine you’d have your own house, never cook another day in your life, and have anything you fucking want.” His eyes were staring right into yours, he looked…serious? Fuck, why universe do you have to make things so goddamn difficult.

“Maybe I don’t care about the money, I care about the love. Could you even do that?”

Sam stares at you, deciding his answer in his own head. “How would you feel if I kissed you, then you can decide if I ‘love’ the way you want babydoll.”

“Well I wouldn’t feel a thing because I wholeheartedly love my boyfriend.”

Are you really going to do this right now? Cheat on your boyfriend. You’ve never been a cheater, why start now? Maybe it’s because Sam Kiszka hasn’t been begging for your attention before.

His grip around the back of your neck tightens to bring you closer to him, your lips only a few inches apart. You stay like that for a few seconds but it feels like hours with the need for him pulsing through you.

Before you knew it his lips quickly attached to yours, his lips were so soft and plump. He pulls away to look at you. “Feel anything?” He questions with a cocky ass look on his face. His stupid, pretty face.

“I wish I could tell you I did, but I didn’t.” You were most definitely lying, trying to convince yourself that there was nothing there. You felt guilty, but that guilt was being covered by the lust filling the air. The need for Sam was far too powerful, you didn’t want anyone else.

Next thing you know your lips are back on his, this time with more urgency. You lean further into him as his tongue teases at your lips, begging for entrance. You part your lips for him allowing his tongue to slide against yours. Your hands make their way to the back of his head, lightly tugging at his coffee colored hair.

A light moan slips from your mouth at the feeling of his lips against yours, which doesn’t go unnoticed by Sam.

“You’re such a bad liar. You can keep saying you don’t feel anything but your body can’t lie baby.” His hands trail down your body making you shiver. “So touched starved. Lucas doesn’t do anything to you does he? Surely he doesn’t please you the way you want, huh? I could do so much better for you babydoll.”

“Not recently. I mean he’s always begging for it and I usually give in but it always sucks. It’s half assed and always for his pleasure. He’s sweet sometimes but all he ever thinks about is sex. It’s hard to see the good in a relationship when the bad outweighs the good.”

Sam’s hands rub up and down your thighs, giving you comfort in the moment.

“I mean even today he tried to fuck right before we left and when I was about to come back here he was arguing about going back and fucking then, like god if you’re going to insist on fucking all the time at least make it decent.” You realized how loud and aggressive you had gotten during your one sided conversation. “I’m sorry that’s probably more than you wanted to know.”

“No, it's all good babydoll. I could tell you didn’t like him all that much at the bar. But I could tell how much you were feeling up on me.” Smirking at you. If you were trying to have a serious conversation with Lucas and he did that you’d probably smack him, but when Sam does it, it turns you on. “You can act like you're not feeling it, but I can tell.” Before you can register, you're being brought up onto Sam’s lap, straddling him on the couch.

“Y/n, I’ll treat you so right babygirl. With me, you’d never have to worry about anything ever again.” His hands are trailing up and down over your ass, you instinctively grind down into his lap. Sam sucks in a sharp breath through clenched teeth. “Goddamn, if you keep that up I’ll cum in my fucking pants.”

“Mmm, that would be kinda fun, wouldn’t it? Ya know…if I made you cum in your pants.” You smirk at him as you grind your hips again.

“Stop teasing.” He hisses through his teeth, grabbing at your hips to still them.

“Fine, I won’t.” You get off his lap, kneeling in front of him and unzip his jeans. Sam’s hands connect to your hair as you release him from his jeans, only his boxers hiding his cock from your sight. Before you could fully make your way off the floor Sam was ripping off your belt and pulling your dress above your head.

You feel the cold air hit your now bare chest, your nipples instantly hardening. You can sense Sam’s eyes on you and you finally look up to meet his gaze.

“Well, well, well. Would you look at that?” His eyes scan over your chest as you settle yourself back down on his lap.

“Like what you see?” You challenge him, leaning over so your tits are directly in front of his face.

His hands reach down to the waistband of his boxers and swiftly pull them down. His cock slaps against his stomach and you can feel the saliva collecting in your mouth, you have to physically stop yourself from drooling. “I don’t know, you tell me.” His voice is low and husky, he’s incredibly turned on. You can tell because his cock looks like it's practically aching, a bead of precum collecting on his swollen tip.

Almost subconsciously you begin to make your way down onto your knees, but before you could take him in he grabs a chunk of your hair, pulling you up to meet his gaze. “Oh no honey that's not how this works. I don’t know what Lucas makes you do but you come first, in more than one way.”

“But… I want to…” You look at him like a lost puppy, you were taken off guard. I mean, yeah, you were used to sucking Lucas’s dick with nothing in return, that’s all you’ve known for the past year and a half, why would you expect anything different now.

“Well maybe I wanna please you y/n. Just accept that babydoll, not everyone is as selfish as him.” He leans forward on the couch taking your hips into his hands pulling you closer to him.

His lips graze over your stomach leaving soft, feather light kisses. Your hands travel to the back of his head to clutch onto his long hair.

“Lay down on the couch for me, peach.” He looks up at you from his sitting position, his eyes darkened and lust-filled. You immediately obey him, finally allowing yourself to give into his ministrations. Taking a seat on the couch, Sam gently pushes you down, your back hitting the leather cushions.

Your body laid out for him, completely vulnerable. He hovers himself over you, mouth connecting to your neck and leaving light kisses down to the top of your tits. “Can I leave marks, let Lucas know whose you are?”

“You’re implying that I'm yours, Sammy?” You smirk at him, running your hands up and down his bare chest.

“Oh peach, you’ve been mine from the moment I laid eyes on you.” He leans down to place a kiss on your lips.

You immediately melt into him, his lips so soft and plump. Your hands wrap around his neck pulling him down closer, bringing his hips flush with yours. He deepens the kiss, his tongue teasing at your lips begging for entrance. You part your lips allowing his tongue to slide across yours.

A tiny moan escapes from your mouth, causing Sam to pull away. “Fuck, those little noises you’re making are so pretty baby. Keep doing it and I’m gonna fuck you straight out of your relationship.”

“Do it, fuck me so hard I forget about my stupid boyfriend.” Your hands scratch at his scalp and gently pull at the strands of his long hair. “Sammy…”

“What peach?” He lightly drags his hand up the curve of your hip and over your waist to grab at your tits.

You look over at the vanity mirror against the wall, in the corner of the room. “I…” You trail off, lost in space, letting your imagination run wild with all the possibilities. “I need you to fuck me over by that mirror.”

He follows your line of sight, a smirk appearing on his face once he realizes. “What a dirty girl. Fine, you wanna act like a slut, you’ll get fucked like a slut too.” Before you could register what was happening Sam grabbed your hand and brought you to the vanity.

Sam pushed you face down onto the counter, bringing you close to the mirror. Sam’s hands grab onto your ass, watching as your face distorted in pain.

His hands linger on the waistband of your panties. His fingers slip under the fabric and release with a harsh snap against your skin. “Fuck…” You squeak out.

“Mmm, the prettiest peach. But, I think these need to come off,” He says, rubbing his large hand over your ass cheek before tugging down your underwear, letting them pool at your feet. “That’s much better, I need to see my girl completely when I fuck her.”

Sam’s fingers drag over your slit, feeling your pool of wetness. “Damn baby, who got you like this.” Whispering into your ear. “It wasn’t Lucas, was it?” He grabs your chin, forcing eye contact in the mirror. “Was it?” You watch his reflection as his jaw clenches.

“No Sam, it was you, only you.” You practically whimper out. God, you were a mess for this man.

Sam grins, feeling proud of what he caused. “Good, now I think I need to get a taste before you’re not able to hold yourself up.”

Sam kneels behind you to become eye level with your cunt. His eyes rake over your slick folds as he lets out a low groan. “Fuck, peach. Can’t believe all of this is for me.” His fingers lightly play with your folds before you feel his tongue lick a slow, long stripe up your pussy.

“Shit…” You huff out, his warm tongue taking you by surprise. He continues on with a few more licks up your slit, before he pulls away.

“Aw, someone liked that. You that deprived baby? Lucas not know how to please a woman like you? I mean he’s just a boy after all, you need a real man, like me.” He chuckles a little at his own words. You can feel the anger starting to boil.

You whip your head around causing him to fall back onto his hands. “Stop fucking bringing him up.” You spit at him. “I don’t give a shit about him and I’ve been dreading the fact I have to go back to that hotel room when his asshole self is there.”

“Feisty little thing aren't you?” He smirks up at you, nothing but pure enjoyment plastered across his face. “You’re quite cute when you’re angry, peach.” Sam pushes your hair behind your ear. “Plus what makes you think you have to go back to him. I'm all yours.” He smiles sweetly at you. A moment of silence passes.

“Sam just shut your goddamn mouth for once.” You shoot him a venomous glare. “Fuck me. Right. Now. I can’t wait any longer.” Maybe you were begging, but you couldn’t care less you were drunk off this man.

You see Sam rise from his knees in the mirror to stand behind you. He leans over to whisper in your ear, “You’re going to regret speaking to me like that, peach.”

“Am I? That’s funny. I’m just wondering why your dick still isn’t inside of me.” You make eye contact with him through the reflection, you narrow your eyes at him. “You know what… maybe I’ll go get Danny to finish the job.” You turn around to start walking away before Sam grabs around your waist.

“Oh, I don’t think so.” He presses a wet kiss to the side of your neck. “Danny is…preoccupied right now anyway.”

He pulls your body back over to the vanity, his hand flattening itself over your back to push your face back down onto the cool counter.

He leans down, his lips right against your ear, “Besides, you’ll never want another man after I’m finished with you.”

“Hmm, I don’t know. Jake actually seems like he would be amazing in bed. More mature. More experienced. Yeah, maybe you’ve fucked a lot of girls but was it even good anyway?”

“Shut your mouth or I’ll shut you up with my cock.” His cheeks are flushed red, your bodies radiating so much heat.

“Maybe, I want that.”

“Slut.” Without warning, he is slamming his cock inside of you giving you little time to adjust. “You wanna act like you can take me, then take me. Take me like the slut you are.”

Sam pumps in and out of you, slowly getting you used to his large cock.

“Holy shit Sam, you’re so big.” You grab onto the sides of the vanity, attempting to steady yourself.

“I’m sure it feels huge compared to whatever you’re used to.” He laughs under his breath, and you immediately turn around and stand up to face him.

Your jaw clenches before you’re absolutely laying into him. Your faces are only inches apart. “What did I tell you about bringing his goddamn name up. I don’t want to fucking think about him you asshole.”

“Well, I mean… I didn’t say his name.” He smirks and that’s exactly what sends you over the edge. Your hands land on his chest pushing him backwards. He stumbles back, landing in a seating position on the couch, looking up at you in awe.

“If you keep testing me you’re not going to find me so peachy anymore.” You warn, your body looming over him. You begin to straddle him, lining him up with your core. “Now let’s see if you can handle me Sammy.”

You lower yourself down on him, his hands instinctively grasp at your hips to guide you.

“Fuck y/n, you’re so tight. Shit-” You squeeze around him, causing his grip to tighten on you. A hiss slips passed his lips and before you know it he’s meeting you halfway, thrusting up into you.

His hands travel up your sides to caress your tits. He takes your nipple between his thumb and pointer finger, rolling it in the most delicious way. Your head falls back, but you continue to grind against him. “Sammy…”

“What peach?” He sounds breathless and completely fucked out.

“You feel so incredible. The- shit. The… fucking best I’ve ever had.” You pant out, your hands grasping at his hair.

“I don’t doubt that peach.” Smirking, looking deep into your soul.

You grab a chunk of his hair, exposing his neck. “You’re acting pretty fucking cocky for not doing much yet Sammy. I don’t even feel close yet, I could go for hours.

“You’ll be going for hours whether you come or not baby.” He says, grabbing your hair exposing your neck, leaving a deep purple mark on the side of your neck.

“God…” You moan out, causing him to smirk. He peels you off of him and next thing you know he's roughly flipping you onto your back.

“You haven’t seen anything yet, y/n.” He hovers over your body, his dick in hand pumping frantically.

“Put it back in, Sammy.” You whine out in the most despairing tone.

“Fuck peach, you’re desperate for me.” He smirks down at you clearly enjoying the situation you two are in. “I know how bad you want it, you gotta beg for it though. Show me how bad you want it.” He begins dragging his cock through your folds, staring deep into your eyes.

The only thing that manages to come out of your mouth is a high-pitched moan.

“That won’t cut it, peach, use your goddamn words.” He slaps his dick against your pussy, causing your body to squirm. He reaches his free hand out to drag down your body landing on your hip. He leans down to whisper in your ear, “You know you want this cock so bad, just give it up.”

You roll your eyes at him, but then your eyes trail down to his rock hard length resting in his hand. You have to physically stop yourself from drooling. And as if you couldn’t get any wetter you feel another rush of wetness coat your pussy.

“I think you want it just as bad as I do Sam, so why don’t you just give it up?” Reaching down, smearing the pre-cum from his tip onto your thumb, and bringing it to your mouth.

His breath hitches and you can see the wheels turning in his mind. He spreads your legs further apart, your one leg now draped along the back of the couch, centering himself in between your legs, gently sliding himself into you yet again.

You both let out a sigh of relief. You can’t help but chuckle a little.

“Why are you laughing peach?” He asks you but still continues on with his slow yet deep thrusts.

“Just find it funny how you wanted me to beg so bad, but you’re the one that ended up caving first.” You whimper out.

Before getting another word out, a swift slap is delivered across your cheek. “I don’t want to hear another fucking word from you, got it?” He says through gritted teeth, with a dark glare that could stop anyone in their tracks. His large veiny hand covers your mouth before Sam completely demolishes your pussy.

He attacks hard and fast, giving you no time to get comfortable. After a few minutes, Sam’s movements start to get sloppy.

“Fuck, I’m so close peach. Shit, so so tight, fuck. So pretty mama. Prettiest fucking pussy.” His eyes are screwed shut and you can’t help but admire him.l

You knew he wasn’t lying from the nonsense leaving his mouth.

You grab his wrist, pulling his hand off your mouth. “Cum in me Sammy, I’m on the pill. Get me pregnant for all I care.”

“Yeah? I wouldn’t mind that. You being my baby mama.” His breath hitches and you can tell he’s right there.

“Cum for me Sam, I know you want to cum in my tight pussy, just give it to me.” You squeeze around him and that is his breaking point.

“Fuck, fuck. I’m coming- shit.” He is drilling into you and before you know it you’re feeling his hot liquid flood your pussy. “Take it y/n, take it all…” After he comes down, he finishes off with a few more thrusts. Sam holds himself up on the couch before pulling himself out.

You were so close, but you weren’t able to finish in time.

“That was so fucking good y/n.”

“I’m sure it was.” Still you lay there unsatisfied.

“What is that supposed to mean?” He furrowed his eyebrows.

“Well I’m sure it would feel good, you know, if I would have came.” Sam’s face turns bright red, feeling embarrassed.

“I thought- well, I figured…”

“Sam” you cut him off. “Finish the job, or I’ll assume what I did when I first walked in here, that you’re all talk and no game.”

Before you could say anything more, Sam pries your legs open, exposing his cum dripping down your folds. Sam inserts his fingers, curling upward to reach your g-spot.

“Oh fuck Sam, right there. Fuck your cum back into me.”

“Yeah I’m sure you would like that. Better chance of getting you pregnant, right?” He adds his thumb, swirling circles onto your clit.

Your body is thrashing around at this point, your hands searching for anything to grab onto, ultimately landing in Sam’s hair again.

You tug harshly on his dark brown locks and immediately you see the results of your actions. Sam’s eyes roll back into his head, “Fuck, you wanna try and make me cum again or something.”

“Hmm, I wouldn’t mind that.” You smile up at him.

You look right at Sam as he bites his plump bottom lip. “You're close.”

“H-how do you know that?” You grip tighter on his hair.

“I feel you squeezing my fingers Peach, I’m very familiar with the way women react to me when they’re close.” He drives his thick fingers even deeper and you are nearing your end, exactly as he expected.

“I feel so fucking good, I could almost-” You trail off, your orgasm overtaking you.

“You could almost, what?”

You feel the intense buildup, before the euphoric release. Small spurts of your juices cover Sam’s hand and splashes up onto his chest. “Oh God.” You don’t realize your grip on Sam’s hair until you come back down, but he doesn’t even seem to mind. His eyes were full of pure admiration.

“Holy shit, y/n. That was the sexiest fucking thing I’ve ever seen.” He pulls you up to straddle his lap, resting your head on his sweat glistening chest.

“I could say the same thing about you.”

You feel a feeling of euphoria, but now without the distraction you’re feeling very stressed. You knew that you had just fucked someone who was not the man you came to the concert with. But was it over before you came back here? You dealt with him for too long, and you knew that after this you could never go back to a man who treats you like an object.

“Hey peach?” Sam looks down at you laying on his chest.

“Hm?” You look up at him and a sweet smile spreads across his beautiful face.

“You don’t deserve to be treated the way he treats you. You deserve to be treated like a queen. To be appreciated and loved, whether that’s from me or not.” His hand is stroking at your hair now in an attempt to comfort you.

“I know I should, and I know what I did tonight wasn’t right, but I think it’s what I needed to realize what I deserve.”

“Listen, I don’t know how to go about this from here. I wanna give you my number though, I don’t know just in case you wanna talk. Or if I’m in the area and need a date with a hot babe.” You chuckle at his words, feeling appreciated.

“I think I’d love that Sam. Thank you for tonight, seriously. I don’t think I’ll ever go to a concert that tops this one.” You can’t wipe your smile off your face.

“I know you won’t peach. Plus I don’t want anyone else bringing you backstage. You’re mine.”

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

TAGLIST: @peaceloveunitygvf @jordie-gvf @Gretavanhockey @Mama-likes72 @mar-rein12 @jennabobenasblog @terry-66 @traffic-was-a-b1tch

#greta van fic #gvf #greta van fleet fan fiction #greta van smut #gvf fic #gvf smut #sam kiszka x reader #sam kiszka smut #sam gvf #sam kiszka #sam kiskza #sammy gvf

94 notes · View notes