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flowerandblood · 5 months ago

Note

Hi, for the ask game you’re making

Glass cuts deepest

🖼️ Museum

🍁 Autumn

💐 Care

🎃 Jealousy

😬 Semi-public sex

🍓 Sexual tension

Congratulations on the milestone 😊!

The Art of Body

[ professor! • Aemond x student! • female ]

[ prompts: museum, autumn, jealousy, care, sexual tension, semi-public sex ]

[ warnings: unprotected sex, smut, mention of sexual trauma ]

A short written as a celebration of my 4000 followers milestone as part of this ask game, which is part of Glass Cuts Deepest story.

Rino Stefano Tagliafierro is the animation artist of François Boucher's "Leda and the Swan" 1740 [post by eucanthos]

______

"Are you sure? I don't want to force you to do anything. It's the middle of the school year, I'm sure there'll be a lot of people there." Wright muttered, looking at him with uncertainty.

He felt frustration, knowing what she meant by people.

Women.

The truth was that since they had been engaged, he had gradually but successfully managed to simply pretend that he didn't see them. When they were in a restaurant or on a walk he would focus only on her and on talking to her, often holding her hand – it made him feel safer, like when you are looking down a great precipice while holding on to the railing.

He was very proud of himself when one day they went to the cinema together to see an animation they both really wanted to watch – it turned out that there were women sitting on either side of their seats. Wright wanted to back out and just leave, recognising that they didn't need to see the film at all, but he was tired of running away all the time.

When they sat down, he shifted in his seat as close to Wright as possible, not wanting the person sitting next to him to touch him – his fiancée had been leaning over his ear throughout the screening, asking if everything was okay, and he only nodded.

He couldn't remember much of what he saw – he was unable to focus as he felt only the rapid pounding of his heart and the cold sweat on his back.

When they left the cinema, he felt relieved, but also proud, because he had done it – even though he felt sick a few times and wanted to vomit, he had endured and nothing had happened.

He felt that he was slowly ready to just go out to people and not wonder who he was passing on the way.

"I want to go there. It's the biggest museum in our country. We've been talking about it for a long time." He said, putting his black turtleneck over his head and sighed, seeing that he had ruined his elaborately styled hairdo by doing so.

Wright noticed this and involuntarily reached into his hair, trying to comb it properly again with her fingers.

He swallowed hard, simultaneously frightened and pleased that she had touched him so suddenly – he repeated to himself at times like this that he trusted her, her familiar scent and the warmth of her skin affecting him in a calming way.

"If you say so. Maybe you're right. I've wanted to see this place for a long time too." She admitted finally, and he smiled with satisfaction, looking at her out of the corner of his eye.

"Give me a moment. I need to change." She said, opening his wardrobe, looking in it probably for one of her dresses.

Some part of him wanted her to change in front of him – she never did. On the other hand, he dreaded it – he had never seen her naked – not completely.

He had never seen her bare breasts or buttocks, only felt them beneath his hands when he put his hand under her shirt.

He swallowed hard as she threw him a warm smile and locked herself in the bathroom, feeling both relieved and disappointed.

He waited patiently for her, and when he heard her come out, he froze – her floral dress was fastened from the front with large white buttons, a fluffy, light-coloured jumper over her shoulders. She had said something to him, probably that she was ready, but all he could think about was that she hadn't put her bra on.

He could easily see the shape of her nipples under the material and something about the sight frustrated him.

Why should others look at something that even he couldn't see?

He wanted to say it, but before he opened his mouth he thought it was unfair – he himself wouldn't want her to dictate what he could and couldn't wear, and he thought his remark might be rude.

"Let's go." He said finally.

It took them a couple of hours to get there – during this time Wright had bought them tickets for all the exhibitions online, so they wouldn't have to wait in long queues at the box office. He liked how organised she was – the fact that she always helped him and didn't leave everything on his head.

He felt he could rely on her.

When they got out of the car, they ran ahead, holding hands – an intense autumn rain had broken up all around them, which meant that by the time they reached the main entrance, they were all wet.

The security guard scanned their tickets and pointed the way they should follow – after a while, their eyes were met by spacious, bright, richly lit halls with walls filled with paintings by great artists, with sculptures of wood, bronze and marble all around them.

His fiancée approached one of the medieval statues depicting the Beautiful Madonna and Child, the one they both knew well from their art history textbooks.

"Look! It's even more beautiful than in the pictures." She said cheerfully, quickly grabbing her phone, taking pictures of the sculpture.

He, however, stared at her dully, seeing the wet material of her dress clinging to her skin, her nipples clearly outlined, popping from the cold.

He felt both irritation and desire at the sight, his manhood pulsed softly in his trousers, expressing his desire to touch her.

He grunted and turned his head away, walking over to one of the baroque paintings hanging on the wall, trying not to think about it.

I'm sexualising her too much, he rebuked himself in his mind, feeling a kind of shame by doing what he himself would never want to experience again in his life.

He regained his good humour and walked with her through the long corridors filled with art, stopping constantly at some artefact – they talked about everything, delighting in the workmanship and details together, while criticising what they didn't like.

He felt an unpleasant twinge in his stomach again when, standing at one of the sculptures, he saw that the man standing opposite them was looking straight at Wright's breasts – he would have thought he was being oversensitive again if it hadn't been for the slight smile of satisfaction on the man's lips, which told him that he was pleased with how much was visible through the thin material of her dress.

He didn't know why, but he grabbed her wrist and tugged at it, pulling her the other way, frustrated and enraged.

"What happened? Did someone touch you?" She mumbled, following him obediently, thinking it was all about him, as usual.

He stopped and looked at her, his heart pounding like mad in his chest.

"Did you have to dress like that? Everyone's looking at you." He hissed, but immediately regretted his words – Wright blinked and shook her head, horror and discomfort in her eyes, as if what he had said had caused her pain.

"What do you mean? I don't understand. After all, my dress doesn't even reveal my cleavage." She said resentfully, looking down, only after a moment noticing what he and everyone else had seen.

She looked at him again and pressed her lips together, covering her breasts with her jumper and her hands, as if the sight of them was something disgusting, worthy of condemnation.

He felt a sting in his heart at the sight – at the thought that she felt it was her fault that other men were looking where they shouldn't.

He swallowed hard and grabbed her hands, lowering them down, making her involuntarily reveal again what she had tried to cover up only moments before.

"– forgive me – I shouldn't have said that – it's just – fuck – I just I have a hard time with the idea that someone else might be... looking at something that even I couldn't see –"

"After all, you can look at it." She whispered, speaking so that no one could hear her. "Even now, if you want to."

"Now?" He muttered, surprised by her words.

What did she mean?

"We can go to the toilet and lock ourselves in the cabin. Our first time was like that too. You did it because the area around you didn't remind you of the place where you faced something bad. About the bed." She reminded him, and he swallowed loudly, realising it was true.

He looked down once more, at the thing he wanted so badly, and nodded slowly.

"Okay."

He felt like a little boy, unable to look at her in shame when the toilet door closed behind them. Once they made sure they were alone, they hid in one of the cabins and just looked at each other for a while.

He felt his heart thump harder in his chest as her hands slowly rose to the buttons of her dress – he watched in disbelief as she began to undo it one by one, his erection twitching and swelling in his trousers, aching with desire at the sight of her bare skin.

When she reached the height of her belly, she stopped and her hands dropped – her dress was unbuttoned, but revealed only a small line of her naked skin – he could see that she was breathing heavily as was he, panting with excitement.

Involuntarily, he took one slow step towards her, then another – his large hand rose uncertainly to the height of her chest and pushed the material of her dress aside in a gentle, lazy motion. He sighed deeply, immediately covering what he saw with his fingers, feeling himself breathe through his mouth out of lust – he looked into her eyes as her hand closed over his, encouraging him to sink deeper into the structure of her plump, soft bosom.

He leaned in and kissed her, unable to withstand the tension he felt inside – his lower abdomen was filled with a wonderfully familiar, warm, tickling sensation that made his length completely hard. He pressed his hips against her abdomen, rolling them back and forth, trying to somehow soothe the need for closeness and tenderness that only she could give him.

"– feels good? –" She breathed out into his mouth, letting their lips caress again and again with the sticky clicks of their saliva, the skin of her breasts wonderfully warm and swollen, melting beneath his fingers.

"– pull down your panties –" He instructed, and she moaned softly into his mouth, immediately obeying his command.

He let her go for a moment, dealing with his trousers, only to release his heavy, painfully swollen erection – as soon as her underwear landed on the ground, he grabbed her in his arms and lifted her, so that her breasts were at the level of his face.

They both cried out as at the same time his lips closed over her hard nipple and the head of his cock opened her wide – he gasped in pleasure, feeling how warm and moist she was, but not seeing anything that was happening from her waist down, covered by the material of her dress.

"– ah –" She mewled as his arms embraced her in a confident hug and pressed her body against the cold tiles, trying to keep her balance as he sank all the way into her body with one, sure thrust of his hips.

"– be quiet or I'll stop –" He threatened and they both froze when they heard someone enter – his cock pulsed inside her greedily as he simply continued with her in that position.

He felt her hands tighten in his hair, her hot pussy squeezed his manhood hard as his tongue swirled around her little nipple, teasing and sucking on it alternately.

He grunted quietly as he felt her begin to roll her hips – some part of him wanted to stop her, hearing that someone was still inside, however the other, more animalistic part of him just wanted to pound into her – and that's what he did.

He heard her squeal softly and she immediately pressed her face against his hair, trying to deafen the sound, as their naked bodies began to slam against each other with loud, sticky smacks of her moisture. He was no longer interested in whether or not the person inside knew what had just taken place – all he could focus on was their heavy, ragged breaths, the wonderful, growing tension in his loins, the squeeze in his testicles testifying that he was close.

He couldn't contain the low growl of delight that passed in vibration across her breast, couldn't contain how desperate he was, couldn't contain what euphoria possessed him at the thought of looking, smelling, touching her naked body, experiencing nothing but bliss.

"– Aemond –" She mumbled softly into his ear, so that only he was able to hear it – her small fingers clenched on his body allowing her to keep her balance and take what he was giving her, as shocked by what they were doing as he was.

All he could think about was how warm and wet she was, how easily she welcomed him deep inside her, how much she wanted him even though they had been together for so long.

The level of trust he held in her made him able to focus only on pleasure, and after a few messy, loud slaps he came inside her with a gasp of relief.

Her nails digging into his shoulders and hair made it almost painful when he felt her body shake with an aggressive, intense orgasm, causing her to stifle a moan with difficulty, making a quiet, whimpering sound.

"– shhh – shhh, little one –" He whispered, still deep inside her, feeling his manhood and her fleshy walls pulsing in one united rhythm, snuggled into her soft, warm chest.

The touch of her bare skin, her heart beating beneath his cheek was so wonderfully intimate, personal, sweet.

Why hadn't he done this before?

They were both relieved when they heard the sound of the water being drained in the other cabin, then the door opening and someone's footsteps indicating that they were alone.

"– Aemond – my legs are aching –" She mumbled, still crossing her calves on his back, supported only by his hands that held her buttocks.

"– just a little longer –" He muttered, pressing his face harder into the silky structure of her plump breasts.

Just a little longer.

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c0kitty · 1 year ago

Text

NOW PLAYING ... NOBODY KNOWS ft. spider-women!ellie x reader

“…BUT NOBODY KNOWS MY LITTLE SECRET.”

(⭑) summary: r/reddit, when’s the best time to tell your girlfriend of three months, (who you are so desperately in love with) you are that "crazy" vigilante on the news, fighting crime in a spider-suit, and that you now shoot fucking webs out of your wrist. (⭑) content: wc 1.2k+ nerd!ellie. confessions. making out. comfort. spider-man!ellie. established relationship. suggestive. insecure!ellie. HEAVILY inspired from the roof-top scene in tasm bcs im obsessed. cursing.

you guys find yourself on the roof-top of dina’s-friend’s apartment, for a random party, celebrating god-knows what. it's slightly chilly, you stand next to ellie with her oversized jacket on you; despite ellie telling you numerous times it was going to be cold, she was not one to refuse you.

ellie wished she had her camera right now; outside’s a pretty scene with the many buildings scattered, the sky, gradually transitioning into yellow and pink hues, night unfolding, and you, looked so pretty by her side.

the city below though remains bustling with constant movement, and ellie's mind is no different. because today was going to be the day —

ellie’s hazel-green eyes shift towards you, observing your soft expression, her heart ached with uncertainty as she wondered if you would hate her — hate her for lying, hate her for not being normal, hate her for having so much baggage. hate her for being spider-women.

“you think dina and jesse are shagging?” you ask, randomly, breaking the comfortable silence. your hands moves to the railing, casually pushing yourself backwards on it.

“saw dina sneakin’ out at 1 am, like she was a teenager. so, yeah, definitely.”

also due to ellie’s super-senses, she had heard so many “private,” conversations with him and dina she wished to unhear.

you nod your head, turning your attention towards ellie. “so, why do you seem so te—”

“i need to say something,”

you guys both interrupt each other, it elicits a small giggle from you. “okay... is this about before? is that the reason you’ve been so pissy tonight?”

you were hinting about earlier. when someone had hit on you, even with you being on ellie's lap, her arms even wrapped at your waist. it irritated the hell out of ellie, leaving her to characteristically run her mouth at em'.

you almost had to drag her away to stop the growing commotion.

ellie sports a slight pout at her pink-lips. “it’s not my fault men can’t get fucking context clues, it’s a wonder they survive. and i haven’t been “pissy” i—” you raise your eyebrows in response, conveying a silent ‘you sure?’ ellie stops talking, only rolling her eyes.

“okay, whatever, maybe i was but, it's not about that,” ellie wasn’t sure how to start this conversation without sounding crazy or scaring you.

“...i was bitten,” ellie says, bushy brows slightly furrowing.

your head tilts, “that’s a little ominous.” ellie rethinks; maybe that wasn’t a good way to start.

“nevermind. you know, when i was sick. that whole two weeks, couple months back.” you nod your head, “yeah, you said you were sick. projectile vomit and shit. couldn’t lift a finger because it was so bad.” damn, ellie forgot she said all that.

“yeah, um sorry. i lied about that.” before you could say anything, lips pulled into a frown, ellie blurts: “i’m spider-man,” finally with a breath. you’re staring at her, but she can’t decipher your expression. unconsciously, ellie bites at her bottom lip.

silence fills the moment, and ellie finds it unbearable; suddenly, in just a second, your face relaxes. “oh, wait. you’re fucking with me. els thought you were serious for a second.”

ellie was regretting playing pranks on you so much, “i’m not fucking with you,” ellie’s arm cross, unconsciously flexing in the process, but you only a grow smile on your lips, like this was some ongoing joke. “jesus, stop smiling — it’s not a joke y/n,”

“i’ve known you all my life ellie — i think i would know if you were fighting crimes with iron-man,” you ignore her, releasing the bar. “wait just w—”

“lets go els, please. it’s getting cold and i’m tired,” you say, making your move toward the door; but in a quick reaction, ellie’s translucent webs shoots out her wrist, spinning you around til’ you're close, her hands, now holding at your waist.

you’re staring at her, eyes widened comically, and your mouth parted, seemingly trying to process what just happened. ellie's attention was drawn to something else though; light in the distance, drunken footsteps heading their way.

“you just fucking — shot webs out your hands, ellie! you’re sp—”

ellie didn’t have much time to think it through, because as soon as the drunkards stumble in, ellie's lips, soft and sweet, press into yours. “..shh,” ellie whispers, faint to your lips — trying to calm you down.

a small gasp leaves your mouth. but after a second, hearing the commotion behind you; you get the message, relaxing yourself into the kiss.

ellie's kisses are usually greedy, but tender, her hands would rummage your body confidently, possessively pulling you in. but this kiss, its … different. it’s tentative, hesitant, like she was afraid to push.

at that, you try to make her feel comfortable with a subtle touch beneath her loose black-shirt. your lips, coated in strawberry gloss, glides seamlessly over hers, giving her a little push; and it works.

ellie tongue pushes in hastily, its smooth tracing from your lips to your tongue. her moppy-brown hair tickling your chin as she eases in the kiss, embracing the subtle buzzing in her chest.

you hear the people leave, and it’s silent now, besides the busy cars. “ellie… t–”

“one more second,” she grumbles, you wanted to keep going, but you still had a lot to say — questions cycling. so you pull away, with a gentle smack of the lips.

she lets out a small groan in response; her cheeks dusted in pink and round eyes flutter open, looking at you in a wistful gaze.

“so… you’re spider-man. well, spider-woman,” you finally say, exhaling. ellie’s eyes shift to the floor. her hands drop from you, and instead, runs through her hair anxiously. “yeah. i know it’s fucked up, and weird. i should’ve told you, warned you, but i—”

you interrupt her depressive rambles, “no, ellie i mean it’s cool, you’re cool. it’s just, fuck.” you take a breath, throwing your hands up. “i was just surprised because you’re, like, nerdy and cute, and then … spiderman, you know?”

ellie’s eyes lifted to meet yours, “relieved” couldn’t fully capture how she felt, but all she could managed to say was: “oh, okay. that’s great, yeah.”

a silence falls between you two in response to ellie’s awkwardness, exchanging glances; both of you burst into a fit of giggles.

“i feel like i should feel offended though, ‘nerdy?’” you playfully nudge at her feet, “you know what i mean. passionate about space, introverted, so obsessed with your grades. it’s like a text-book definition,” ellie couldn’t really deny that, so she just playful rolls her eyes instead.

“...but you know what’s crazy, i had a small tiny crush on spider–man, well you, before we officially dated.”

ellie’s lips curve into a smile, “so now you get the best of both worlds, huh.” ellie comes closer to you, hands finding their place to your body. "i bet you dreamed of both of us fighting over you, hm?”

in the quietness that follows, your eyes drift away from ellie, intentionally avoiding her gaze. ellie could tell there was more story to your silence, “wait — did you have a wet dream about spider-man and m—” she begins, but you swiftly cover her mouth.

“...shut it,” you say beyond flustered, which only intensifies ellie's curiosity.

#ellie williams x reader #ellie williams #ellie williams x you #ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams x y/n #tlou #ellie x reader #tlou x reader #ellie williams x poc reader #ellie williams fluff #ellie x fem reader #ellie williams tlou

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radawaycunt · 1 year ago

Note

Putting in a request for a Hannigram x fem reader??? I was thinking along the lines of already established relationships, and while out together, some man/women hits on the reader, and then we get jealous Hannigram 🥰🫠

I mean jealous Hannibal is a given. He dosent like people touching what's his, but he keeps his composure. But Will... oh, Will I think would ne not subtle at allll. Defo some angst but also some hints of smut and fluff

Suddenly meats on the menu that night 💀

~ 🔮

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A hot and cold sensation jolted through you as you were startled by your heel suddenly breaking. You stumbled, but an arm caught and steadied you.

"Woah there, that was close," the man who had caught you said. "Are you okay?"

You looked up at him, his kind, nondescript face greeting you with a smile. You smiled back sheepishly, feeling your face heat. It was mortifying enough that your heel had given out, leaving you limping for the rest of the night, but it would've been worse to fall flat on your face in public.

"Thank you so much," you said, relieved even as your heart still raced with adrenaline. "I'm sorry for almost slamming into you."

"Nonsense, I'm glad I caught you," he said, his eyes wandering a little to further take you in. "Can I help you to your seat?"

"Um, if it's not too much trouble, I wouldn't want to impose..."

He chuckled, offering you his arm. "It would be my pleasure to help a beautiful woman such as yourself."

You waved this off and smiled demurely, both accepting the compliment and remaining politely reserved. You didn't want to encourage him, but it was a kindness that you were grateful for.

Your free hand took hold of the railing as you went up the steps toward the balcony seats of the opera house. You led him down the hall, murmuring the seat numbers as you searched for yours.

"Did you come here by yourself?" He asked.

"Oh no, I'm with company. I just needed to use the restroom and insisted they go ahead." you made sure your ring was visible then, so there would be no confusion. "It's in here."

The two of you pivoted, walking into the balcony. Will glanced over his shoulder as he heard you, and he immediately stood up. The sudden movement made Hannibal look back as well, but he remained composed.

"My shoe's broken," you explained, bashfully showing the heel you were holding. You turned to the man who had helped you, inclining your head gratefully. "Thank you so much again. You spared me the humiliation."

He smiled once again, though it was more strained as he was all too aware of the two men nearby. "My pleasure. Impossible to ignore a lovely lady in distress, am I right?"

The question had been directed at Will, who was staring him down, every muscle in his body tense. You noticed his fingers twitching.

"Yes, that's right," he said through gritted teeth. "We've got it from here, though. Thanks."

The man bid you all good night and quickly left, wanting to escape the tense atmosphere. Will reached out a hand for you to help you to your seat.

"See? I told you, I should have stayed and waited for you," he said as you sat down. "I don't like strangers touching you."

"It's not like we knew that would happen. He was just being nice," you said with a shrug, trying to get him with you.

Will grunted and stayed put, still not happy. "By the look on his face when he saw us, I'm not convinced his intentions were totally pure."

You raised an eyebrow and glanced over at Hannibal. "A little help?"

"I'm afraid I have to agree with him on this one," he said, adjusting in his seat so his body faced you.

You glanced at both of them in turn. A part of you was thrilled at their jealousy -- your body knew well what the consequences of this could be -- but at the same time, you just wanted to have a nice night out with them.

"But I'm here now, in one piece, and I'm all yours," you reassured, taking Hannibal's hand and extending your free one towards Will once again. "The show's gonna start soon, come on Will, please sit."

He bowed down to kiss your knuckles, looking at you through his lashes. There was a dark promise in his eyes that made heat pool in your belly. "I will in time, my love, but first, covetous hands must be dealt with."

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#🔮 anon #hannigram x reader #will graham x reader #hannibal lecter x reader #will graham x hannibal lecter x reader #hannibal fanfiction #minors dni #I got maybe a little experimental? I hope you like!

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italian-lit-tournament · 4 months ago

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Italian literature tournament - Third round.

Propaganda in support of the authors is accepted, you can write it both in the tag if reblog the poll (explaining maybe that is propaganda and you want to see posted) or in the comments. Every few days it will be recollected and posted here under the cut.

First, propaganda for Ludovico Ariosto, then for Guido Cavalcanti. The quantity of material will be colossal, so just scroll down for more.

For the Ludovico Ariosto stans:

by @larmegliamori

The opposing party has brought on the big guns, I see: us Ariosto girlies, gays and they must bare our teeth and ambitions.

So, here's my two cent on why you should vote Ludovico Ariosto!

Extreme relatability: Deeply entrenched into the politics of his time (as the firstborn of ten children, of which one was disabled and other five were women), but at the same time just wanting to stay home to live of his poetry? Dare I say iconic. Perfect representation of us literature kids.

He actually managed to marry his muse, Alessandra Benucci, and did it respectfully!

Working various jobs for patron(s) he didn't particularly like? Been there, done that, got the t-shirt.

Not to mention his most widely known work, the poem "Orlando Furioso" (The rage of Roland), has all the goos stuff us modern audiences would like! It features:

A wide, diverse cast, spanning from Ireland to India, stretching probably to the (by then) newly discovered Americas;

Fantasy elements: faeries, sorcerers, giants, orcs, the first modern iteration of the hippogryph and even a fantastical voyage to the Moon!

Citations and references galore: from Virgil to Ovid, from old chansons de geste to Boccaccio!

Proto-feminism and gender studies: Ariosto's female characters, although often very feminine, are actively involved in their story arcs. The poem also features two warrior women, Bradamante and Marfisa, the former of which is the protagonist of her own subplot. Said subplot heavily relies on gender, may it be appearances or not. And let's not forget the famous tirade at beginning of the fifth canto, where the author berates femicide! If you're willing to open your heart to his writing, Ludovico Ariosto reveals himself to be a compelling, layered, modern author, and yet there's a levity to his writing that works like a balm. Vote for Ludovico Ariosto (even if only for the memes)!

I'd also like to add that Ariosto's Orlando Furioso, in the 70s, got a theatrical AND television adaptation that was too campy for its own good.

It featured, amongst other things:

- 1500s inspired costuming (it sure was... A choice but I'm not complaining)

- Mechanic horses (that literally ran on rails) and hippogryph:

- Olympia of Holland, one of the most tragic characters in all the poem, as a vamp (slay):

(Posing with Orlando/Roland in on the left, with her lover Bireno on the right)

- Astolfo literally ENTERING INTO A HOLE TO GET TO THE MOON:

The television adaptation was partly shot in the famous Baths of Caracalla, in Rome. If you want to witness this masterpiece yourself, it's on YouTube! In two parts.

Remember to always stan Zio Ludo, and vote for him! ✨

Hello everyone! For today's Ariosto Propaganda Piece, I'd like to talk about the Satire.

Those seven pieces written in terzina dantesca (because our boy Ludo knew how to pick his role models) are an interesting insight about early 1500s society and Ariosto's character and private life. They all start from an actual event in his life and enlarge towards society as a whole, often with a critical eye towards it.

The first one, destined to his brother Alessandro and a friend, starts these absolutely iconic lines:

[Quick translation: Ruggiero, if you make me so ungrateful in the eyes of your descendants, and it bears me no advantage to have sung your worth and your mighty deeds, why should I stay here, since I don't know how to cut huns on a fork, nor how to hunt games with hawks or dogs?]

A bit of context: Ariosto's first patron, bishop Ippolito d'Este, had to move from Italy to Hungary and wanted all his court to follow him. Ariosto refused because of health and family matters, and he was threatened with the loss of all the benefits he had previously granted him. Note that Ariosto was basically a kind of personal secretary to Ippolito, carrying out different important missions for him, and even risked his life a couple times to carry them out. So it's understandable he feels disappointed at his patron's reaction... and that's why, in this more "private" writings, he complains with Ippolito's ancestor, the hero Ruggiero he had extensively wrote about in his main poem.

Honestly, a genius move. Not something you see often in poetry, is it? Another reason why you need to vote for this man ;)

For the Guido Cavalcanti stans:

Propaganda in favor of Guido Cavalcanti by @eresia-catara

May I add further propaganda for Guido: He's a noble, he disdains aristocrats, he was Florence's number one Server of Cunt, he was the city's faggot, he was heretical, he went on a random pilgrimage but interrupted it and managed to be buried in a church anyway, he had an archenemy who sent some men to murder him on said pilgrimage, he came back and tried to murder him back in plain daylight, he gave zero fucks about politics, he got exiled because he was considered a menace for the city. He SAW DANTE's poetical talent, encouraged it, shaped it, and through him the whole of italian literature. Think about it. Also they became besties until they evolved to a tormented psychosexual haunting dynamic (see break-up poem) where Dante himself actually exiled him. In the 13th century his poetry anticipates so many of the literary themes of the XXth century, going from fragmentation of the self (his is basically vivisection and dispersion of his parts), to dissociation from one's own mind and body, lack of identity, irony, desecration, his poetry is full of schizophrenic-like hallucinations, reading them is truly a trip, and yet his language is profoundly meoldic and sweet. And there's also gender-fuckery. and theater, of course, because his poems develop like a scene from a theater (adding layers to the dissociation). So really he has it all guys.

The thing is, Ariosto feels very contemporary but Guido is the og relativist and unreliable narrator. His poetry offers NO truth whatsoever you only have a sequence of schizophrenic hallucinations and what he describes only seems like it's real but who knows, the narrator is dead, how can he even speak or if he's alive he's not because he has dissociated himself from his body and is only coldly contemplating his own murder. He's not reliable because he has lost his reason, his soul has crubled into pieces and each piece has fled his body. Also he hears voices, and feels a sadistic presence in his mind in the form of a woman watching him die. This man was too ahead of his time, he was too dramatic, too eccentric, but also too acute and sensible, he must have looked deranged and we love him for it. and deserves to be voted!

Guido Cavalcanti propaganda by @girldante

GUIDO CAVALCANTI PROPAGANDA ABBIAMO:

LA DISSOCIAZIONE SCHIZOFRENICA:

IL COMICO, IL SIMPATICO BURLONE, IL MEMATORE ANTE LITTERAM:

IL MACABRO, IL GORE, I SINTOMI™

IL BREAKUP TOSSICO PASSIVO AGGRESSIVO CON DANTE

in conclusione

you can find my old propaganda here, but listen, while i do respect zio ludo's rizz, a vote for guido cavalcanti is a vote for gender roles reversal, death-life liminality, medieval atheism, antisocial freaks obsessed with philosphy who imagine their pens are talking to people about their owner's suffering (what is wrong with him), eye carving enjoyers (what the FUCK is wrong with him), sons who are sacrifical lambs, people who have long swinging necks like geese (allegedly???), and gay breakups involving dante alighieri. and also, well, I don't recall ariosto wearing a miku binder. twice.

in conclusion

Guido Cavalcanti propaganda by @apis-vergilii

Here’s my Guido propaganda: @girldante and @eresia-catara have already covered the poetry reasons, and I’m here to get metatextual about the whole thing.

Simply put, this is the Weird Niche Hellsite, and Guido is the Weird Niche Hellcandidate.

We live in an era of the cynical enshittification of the internet. In a sickened sea of dying social platforms, AI slop, and every last pixel being for sale, THIS is still the webbed site where a bunch of strangers can rediscover a lesser-known medieval poet in all his angsty, gothy glory, abandon all pretense of ironic detachment or mature indifference and go absolutely apeshit over his life and work, breathlessly and deliriously creating everything from exhaustively researched essays with footnotes, to anime fan art and inexplicable photoshops. This is the place where Goncharov happened. This is the place where we stole the president’s shoelaces. This is the place where a heretical medieval Tuscan stilnovista got himself a full-on Fandom, and we are all so much the better/worse for it.

So vote for the spirit of the old internet in all its dorky glory. Vote for the joy of learning things for fun and not for school. Vote for the bizarre Florentine emo goth. A vote for Guido Cavalcanti…is a vote for all of us.

if all else fails to convince you, well, i don't recall ariosto having an historical fantasy saga centered around him where he gains clairvoyance and gets increasingly more and more manipulated by the manifestation of his generational trauma. also he gets out of his body to have epic fights with spiritual creatures.

this should be a testimony to how his cuntserving echoed through time

Propaganda by @girldante and @eresia-catara that I guess should be read together:

well. seeing as we're on topic. Was Ariosto ever described as having

les bras d'Hercule avec des mains de nymphe by a 19th century french story? It is not made up guys, he served androgynous cunt so hard it didn't go unnoticed. Guido simply suggests fluidity.

Like. Arms like Hercules and hands like a nymph.

And Lorenzo il Magnifico also Fangirled over him in a letter to the Federico of Aragon

he (Lorenzo il Magnifico!!) was simply begging him to read his poems, and that's because they are absolutely eatable in all their irreverent, elegant, goth glory.

Finally, Boccaccio wrote about him in his Decameron (VI,9) and, truly, can you say no to him:

this little ballerina? look at how sad he looks!

would you look at that! Guido Cavalcanti propaganda is publicly sponsored by thee Lorenzo De' Medici himself!!!

as for the last bit, Boccaccio's novella from Decameron, where Guido calls out a bunch of idiots through a riddle that said idiots will take a bunch of time to understand and then proceeds to abandon them jumping over a grave, was cited by thee Italo Calvino in his Lezioni Americane as an example of his conception of lightness, as in the ability to lift oneself over the heaviness of the world.

In conclusion: Guido Cavalcanti is literally your fave's fave.

#Ludovico Ariosto #Guido Cavalcanti #IIT - third round

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resi4skz · 1 year ago

Text

Title: My Nerdy Girl

Pairing: Chan x Reader

Warning: smut, fingering, kissing, hard thoughts, horny chan, all the shebang

MDNI !!!

You know when you're the most popular guy in college and have girls asking for your phone number? And when you politely reject them because you have a huge crush on your good friend who also happens to be one of your classmates in one of your classes?

Yeah. That's me. I'm currently looking at her eat her lunch, sitting across from her best friend, Luna, who happens to be the girlfriend of my best friend, Han. Luna and Han met because of Y/N last year, during Han's birthday. Now, that was a fun day, even if it did end with Han and Luna going at it in a closet. Good thing no one interrupted them.

Right. Back to my point about Y/N. I don't know what it is about her. I feel attracted to her. I find her cute. Endearing. And the clothes, she's always wearing baggy clothes and it has made my mind to not shut up about the filthy images I've had and been having. Now, I'm not going to deny that I have eye fucked her many times because one could only imagine what's behind all those clothes. And those glasses she wears. Something about her being a nerd makes me want to scream her name every night with my hand down my pants. I've lost count of how many times I've jerked off to her.

"Bro, just tell her already," Han says, munching on snacks.

"Remind me why you're here instead of with your girlfriend?"

"Annoyed much?" He gives me a look.

"Much."

He throws a popcorn at me which I catch with my mouth. "I can't tell her."

"Why not?"

"Because. It's Y/N. I don't want to ruin our friendship," I replied, sighing as I sit in my chair. "Fuck, I want her so bad."

"Ugh," Han groans, rolling his eyes. "Why do I have to do everything myself?" I watch as he fishes out his phone and types something.

"What are you doing?"

"Just so you know," he says putting his phone down. "I'm only doing this because you're like my bro but just this once. The rest is on you." He gets up, pats my back and leaves giving me a peace sign.

What just happened?

------------------------------------------------------------

Fuck me. That's her? She follows the waiter to where our table is. Oh my god. She's wearing a black dress that goes to her mid thighs and she paired it up with suede high knee boots and beige cardigan. If it's one thing that makes me turn feral, it's women wearing black.

Correction: it's Y/N wearing black. And no glasses??

Fuck.

How am I going to survive this date?

As she approaches the table, I stand up pulling the chair out for her. "Thank you," she says as she takes a seat.

"My pleasure."

My pleasure indeed.

------------------------------------------------------------

We're both laughing as we walk side by side by the river. "No, you're telling me that Luna is Han's first girlfriend?" She asked, laughing.

"And the only one from the looks of it," I replied.

How I never knew she would be this fun to be with, I would have made a move much sooner. She places her hand on the railing in front of her, leaning against it as she sighs, looking at the river below us. "It's so pretty."

I glance at her, not being able to take it anymore. So I cage her in from the back, putting my hands on either side of her. I feel her stiffen as I lean in near her ear. "Very pretty. Like you."

She turns her head and her cheeks turn pink realizing the sudden close proximity we're in. Her eyes travel down to my lips then to my eyes. "So pretty," I whisper as I lean in towards her parted lips. "May I?" When she nods, I waste no time. I have dreamt of kissing this woman and to finally be able to do it doesn't even compare to my dreams.

I pull back, our breaths heavy. "Fuck, Y/N. Is it safe to say that I like you?"

She chuckles, fully turns around and wraps her arms around my neck. "Yes, because I like you too. Now kiss me."

"Fuck yes," I say and crash my lips on her. She tastes like cherries. But I break the kiss too soon. She chases my lips but I stop her, gazing into her lustful eyes. "Do you wanna come over at my place?"

She blinks at me, and I can see cogs turning in her brain. Maybe this was a bad idea. Maybe this was too soon. I just want her so bad and I haven't been this fucking hard ever. As I slowly let her go, she fists my shirt yanking me back. I blink down at her, surprised. "Yes."

The ride to my apartment was....let's say it wasn't the best. I had to put all my focus on driving and going above the speed limit was an understatement. The amount of times I just wanted her to climb over and have her way with me.

Fuck.

I'm doomed.

And the fact that my apartment was on the eighth floor. The elevator ride, I couldn't take it anymore. I pushed Y/N against the wall, my face in the crook of her neck, drinking in her scent. I wanted to memorize it. She let out a moan as I sucked on her pulse point, making her whimper. My hands slither around her waist, travelling lower to grip both of her cheeks in my palms, pulling her closer to my body. I felt her arms wrap around my neck, tilted her head to the side for me to gain more access to skin.

I hooked her leg on my hip as my left hand went up her thigh, going beneath her dress to give her ass a tight grip. The material of my jeans rubbed against her clothed clit, and that was enough to set me into overdrive. "Chan..." Y/N whimpered as I sucked on her neck.

I wish I could listen to her whimpers and moans any day of the week. And every night, if she were up to it.

When I finally pulled away, I took a moment to stare at her dead in the eyes before leaning down to smash my lips to hers. She matched my energy as her hands travelled to my hair, her fingers raking through my black locks. Her small whimpers and moans spurred me on, her tongue swirled around mine and my cock grew hard at the sensation.

The dinging of the elevator brought me back to reality as I stepped back and we both walked off the machine. Her giggles are my favorite so far, as I pressed her against the wall, licking and biting along her neck as we tried to walk to my apartment. When we arrived, her hand intertwining with mine, I used my key to unlock the door and allowed Y/N to walk inside first. But as soon as the door closed, she was on me and I moaned into her mouth as I softly slammed her against the nearest wall.

Sliding my hands around her hips, I hoisted Y/N in my arms as her legs wrapped around my torso. Yet again, our lips moved in sync, never leaving, but quickly deepened as I walked over to my room. Upon entering, I head straight for the bed, Y/N’s back hits the soft mattress as I dive right back to her neck as hands fisted my hair giving it a light tug. "Fuck, do that again." She blinks twice before tugging at my hair, making my mind go fuzzy, unable to think straight. In return, I gripped her thigh and pulled it up a bit, lifting her thighs as I grind my hips against hers.

Y/N moaned and grinds her hips back, her covered sensitive clit, giving her the right amount of friction. She squirmed beneath me as the wetness of her panties became uncomfortable. I kissed her deeply, pausing briefly to strip out of her dress, leaving her in her black thong. "No bra?" I asked, blinking at her perky breasts to which her cheeks turns pink. I admired her body, staring at every curve and dip in her skin, running my hands up and down her frame. "Fuck. You're gorgeous."

She had swollen lips as her chest rose and fell with each breath and I trailed my lips down her body. Starting at Y/N's neck, nibbling down her collarbone to the dip of her breasts, making sure to suck her sensitive buds. She moaned, once again running her fingers through my hair and pulling my face closer. Smiling into the kiss, I was starting to love hearing her moan and could listen to them all day. Heck, if it was up to me, I would want to keep her beneath the sheets, under me.

I continued trailing my tongue down the her torso. When I got to her black panties, I look up, and she nods for me to continue. I reached up and peeled the black item of clothing down her legs, throwing it behind me as it joins with the rest of of our clothing.

Pushing her legs open, I run my fingers through her folds before slipping my middle finger into her. “Such a pretty cunt.”

Her cheeks turn pink at the compliment. I watch as her back arches as I thrust my finger inside, knuckle deep, exploring her soft walls.

"Fuck, Channie.” she moaned, closing her eyes in pleasure.

I hovered over her lips as my fingers slowly worked in and out of her. She kept arching and writhing as I continued, mouth wide open as she let out silent moans.

“I can feel you tightening already.” But as I added a second finger, she couldn't contain herself. Her moans spilled out of her like she was a pornstar. Even when I kissed her, nothing stopped the volume she was outputting. “Fuck, I can't wait to fuck you."

Her walls clamp down on my fingers and I silently cursed at myself for not doing this sooner. “Channie…please…” The moans that escaped her mouth as they bounced off my room's walls. If the neighbors complain, I wouldn't give a fuck.

“Please, what?” I smirked watching her come undone at my pleasure. “I can’t hear you, baby.” I started moving my fingers faster in and out of her tight wet cunt that I had been dreaming about. I smile hearing her beg and plead. Gazing up at her lustfully, I smirk before taking her by surprise by leaning down and latching my mouth on her clit. She lets out a muffled moan, making me come up to see her biting the back of her hand.

Something came over me and I swat her ass cheek, making her yelp. "I want to hear you." She draws her hand back as I go back to my first mission and groan at the taste of her juices as they run down my chin. I hear her gasp before her hand grips the back of my head, fisting my hair and then pushes me deeper into her sopping pussy. "You taste so fucking good.”

“Don’t fucking stop,” Y/N moaned, as I run my fingers over her sensitive nub. “I’m so close.”

I couldn't say no to her so I grabbed the back of her knees, pushed her legs towards her chest, and began to devour her. I ran my tongue through her already soaking pussy before sticking it inside of her. Her thighs started shaking as I feel her first orgasm of the night approaching. And it was coming fast. "Cum on my face, baby. Can you do that for me?"

Her walls clenched around my fingers. She moaned my name as her orgasm hit her hard, she closed her thighs around my head as the aftershocks flowed through her body. I trailed kisses up her chest, sucking her sensitive nubs again before smashing my lips to hers.

As I shed my pants and boxers, I felt her watching me and saw her eyes widen at my rock hard cock. I quickly grabbed a condom, teared the corner of the foil with my teeth before putting it on. "Ready?" When she gives me a nod, I hover over her as I aligned myself at her enterance. She cries out as I slide in, all at once. I wanted to move and ruin her under my spell. But the look on her face made me stop. "Are you okay?"

She nods, opening her eyes. "I didn't expect you to be this big."

I laugh. "You've got a smart mouth. I wonder what else it can do."

"Why don't you find out?"

Fuck me. Drawing myself back, I thrust my cock inside her and threw her head back, arching her back as her walls pulsated wildly around me. “So fucking tight…” I hissed as I speed up the pace to the point where I'm hammering into her. Her glistening neck had me going crazy as I licked and nibbled at a spot and mumbled how she felt around me. She felt so tight, so warm, just right. “Babygirl, is this good? Do you want me to go harder, faster?”

I slowed down when she didn't respond, making her whine. I didn't want to pull out because I had wanted to be inside, nice and snug in her warmth. She was stretching well to my size, much to my surprise.

“Channie, if you don't fuck me in the next 5 seconds, I'm leaving you with blue balls,” Y/N stated, eyes glazed over with lust, and her cheek flushed.

"You asked for it," I said as I grabbed her hips and slammed my hips against her at an ungodly speed. She looked so sexy, so good, and willing to take what I had to offer. Fuck, her fucked out appearance was beyond my dreams. My thumb rubbed her sensitive clit making her mewl out loud.

“Oh, are you sensitive?” She nodded at my question. "I'm going to have so much fun with this later on but right now, I need you to come on my cock," I grunted, leaving a hickey on her neck.

“Ahhh…no wait…” She squirmed beneath me, and her hand went to grab my wrist. "Chan, ah, fuck, please." I noticed how she didn’t pull my hand away despite her pleads.

I could feel her walls clenching down around me. “Sorry baby,” I breathed out as the pressure in my balls kept rising. “You’re just too perfect for me."

“Fuck, Channie,” She came with a cry. Her arms wrapped around my neck, her body convulsing as she held me close.

I wasn't far behind. “Oh, fuck. I'm gonna cum. You're gonna make me cum. Fuck, fuck, I'm cumming.” I stilled as the hot sticky cum painted the inside of Y/N's tight cunt.

Our heavy breaths filled the room, bouncing off the walls as I blinked down at her, catching my breath. I pressed my lips to hers as her hands ran down my back. "You okay?"

"Yes," she nods, smiling.

"Wait here," I pull out when I've gone soft and retrieve a small towel from the bathroom. As I cleaned her off, her hand grabs mine and I glance up. "What is it? Are you hurt? Was I too rough?"

She giggles. Oh, I love her giggles. "I'm okay, Channie. In fact, I don't think I can walk." She grins and asks, "So does this mean I'll see you again?"

I smile. "Oh, you'll definitely be seeing me again. Because I intend on seeing you outside of my room." I laugh when she hits my arm playfully. "Y/N. You're mine."

She smiles, beaming at me. "I'm yours."

Settling down in the bed next to her, she snuggles up to me as I wrap my arm around her, kissing her forehead. It doesn't take too long for her to falls asleep, making me smile. "Goodnight, babygirl. Sweet dreams."

A/N: i dont know what to do with myself now.....

#bang chan #christopher bang #stray kids bang chan #chris bang #bang chan fanfic #stray kids #fanfic #skz #bang chan smut #skz smut #stray kids smut

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roseykat · 1 year ago

Text

TITLE: Play Tight

PAIRINGS: Bang Chan x f!reader

SUMMARY: Reader and Chan divulge their ‘excuse’ as to why they couldn’t make it to hot pot and barbecue dinner with their friends.

WARNING: minors DNI with this post or my blog. I create NSFW SKZ related content and I know I won’t be able to regulate/monitor every potential interaction with those posts so please do not engage with me, my work, or page whatsoever.

TAGS: smut, porn with plot, swearing, multiple orgasms, squirting, overstimulation, unprotected sex, creampies, fwb, some pillow talk (ish)

PART 1 / PART 2 / PART 3

🏷️ LIST: @chillichillicrabcrab23 @broken-glowsticks @ihatemen55 @boi-bi-ahaha @galamxy @weareapackofstrays @anglerfishiey @elizalabs3 @fr34k4c1dr41n @stayconnecteed @imnotjjini0325 @twinklix @meilix @livsposts @dawn-iscozy @princejisung @valibals @oiikaro @im-sinking-in-mud @aalexyuuuhm @baby-yongbok @/leftkittenface @20minsat180degrees @itsthatbri (if you want to be removed or added to the tag list, please lmk!) ⭐️

A/N: if you don't know what a refractory period is it's essentially about the ability of most women to cum back to back or one after the other in a short span of time between one orgasm and the next. Therefore, if it seems as though I've written about reader having multiple orgasms within quick succession, that's because she is and Chan is making the most of it. Also I really pushed the time limit with uploading this part bc I spent the last few hours trying to get the fan club which took fucking ages...

Hot pot and barbecue with friends - now that sounded fun.

You saw the group chat messages from earlier, and the plan to all meet up at half past six. Had you not orchestrated other arrangements, you would be sitting with them right now enjoying nice meals and chats. Instead, your body remains to be railed thoroughly, right into the bed that belongs to none other than Chan. The owner of very capable hands who had just finished fucking you on his couch earlier on.

He too missed dinner with everyone for the same reason. Selfishly being, to get laid.

Chan presented half of a lie to the group chat, saying that his family was back in the city - which was true, and that he was going to visit them, so he couldn’t make it - not true. You on the other hand conjured the only fib you could think of and told everyone that you were going to be working past six.

Both of you felt relatively guilty for ditching the dinner. However, it would’ve looked ten times more suspicious if the two of you suddenly changed your minds at the same time and decided to show up.

But why would anyone suspect anything? Nobody knew Chan was rearranging your guts every other night. Or so you thought. That dirty, slutty little secret was only kept hushed between you and Chan. These past couple of months you’ve spent at each other's houses, tainting the very last remnants of innocence either of you had.

You wouldn’t have realised it at first until you experienced it for yourself, but Chan is and can get really horny. Before him, there was no such thing as ‘hard-paced’ or ‘nasty’ sex. It was fairly vanilla, which there’s nothing wrong with from time to time. But at the minute, that wasn’t the cup of tea you fancied. No. It was something much dirtier and riveting, something that makes you feel like you’re very much alive.

Chan was able to achieve that in less than half an hour after you both hooked up one time after a night out. Sure there might’ve been alcohol involved, except neither of you were drunk enough to completely forget what an amazing time you both had. So much so that you and Chan decided to hook up again. And again, and again, until it became a weekly event.

In saying that, there were a few layers as to why you and Chan started seeing each other regularly. You needed the de-stressor from work that had been hounding you for months, and among other things, there is nothing like a good dick down to make just about make every worry in your mind disappear.

As for Chan’s situation, it wasn’t as light. Having been cheated on by his long term partner, Chan entered what you refer to as his ‘hoe phase’ to which he was rather embarrassed to learn that it’s something that people tend to go through when they’ve broken up with their significant other.

Nonetheless, you and Chan unexpectedly found each other in a way friends wouldn’t typically, and it was only limited to that. No strings attached, still remain good friends, and the best mind blowing sex.

“Fuck - yes, right there!”

Chan’s hips ram unforgivingly into you from behind. Creating godly, euphoric waves that ripple throughout your body each and every time he does. His fingernails clutch themselves into the soft flesh of your hips, allowing him to use that small bit of traction to pull your body back onto his cock or for him to thrust forward mercilessly.

This was way better than dinner with friends.

“W-Wait,” you reach behind to the side of your body, trying to tap his arm and prompt him to slow down so you could get your message across without having it fucked right out of you. “Ride…lemme ride you.”

Chan swallows and nods, taking a short breather, “yeah, yeah okay.”

Whilst you’ve learned a lot of things about Chan since you’ve started sleeping with him, he’s also learned some stuff about you. Like discovering throughout your secret sessions with him that you seem to cum the hardest when you’re riding him. He doesn’t entirely see the appeal of it since he doesn’t mind picking up all the slack just so you don’t have to do any of the work. At the same time, however, nothing feels as good as fucking his frustrations into you.

But he also doesn’t mind them getting fucked out of him. It easily added to one of the reasons why he found it so hot to watch you ride dick.

As he gently slides his cock out of you, moving into the next position where he now gets to lie back against his pillows. He watches you straddle him first, then take his length in hand before aligning it with your hole. Slowly, you sink down onto his cock.

The ‘o’ shape in your mouth enlarges when the entirety of his length vanishes inside you. He’s big. Something you can’t always grasp every time you sleep together. The silver lining in that however is that the foreplay is amazing.

“Christ,” you breathe out, lifting your hips up and down a couple of times, groaning as the pleasure already built up from before starts re-taking its effect to its highest extent. “Fuck, make me feel so full.”

“So you keep telling me,” he responds with a cocky grin as his hand reaches up to one of your tits and gropes ravenously. “But that’s what you like isn’t it? Having a big cock inside you, yeah?”

Your hand claps right on top of his, the other stabilises your body on his chest as you start riding at a pace comfortable enough to build some momentum. It doesn’t take long until every part of your body feels like warm flames are tickling your skin, leaving tingly traces in their wake.

“Yes, love it so much,” you pant breathlessly. “Love it when it makes me cum.”

Chan is glad to hear that. Then again, he knows. He’s fucked you long enough to know what you like, what you don’t, and what type of pleasure can turn your mind inside out. With that in mind, and one hand still groping you, he uses the other thumb to find your clit and rub generously.

“F-Fuck, oh my god, don’t stop, don’t stop,” you plead in anguish as you start to feel your orgasm shift into sight.

It’s right there. The utmost pleasure and ecstasy at its apex swells from the pit of your stomach, to your toes, all the way into the crevices of your brain. Every part of you - physically and mentally, just seems to melt into Chan. His cock, which feels like it was made for you to use like this, glides frictionlessly until his tip kisses your g-spot so lovingly. Each time it hits, Chan earns extra centimetres of long red scratches down his abdomen, marked up by your fingernails.

“Cum,” he demands through gritted teeth. “Fucking cum all over me.”

Brainless and vacant as you were in trying to respond to him, your actions seemed to speak for themselves. As Chan continues to move his thumb consistently over your clit and you bounce yourself still on his cock, your eyes suddenly screw tight shut - shuddering before a surge of relief gushes from between your legs.

Chan grins sickeningly.

The untapped pleasure squeezes and strangles moans out of your throat, yet, in the few spare moments when you had come back down to earth, your stomach felt like it dropped at some point along the way. The minute you open your eyes, breathing hard and heavy, your attention catches on to the mess you’ve made.

Most of Chan’s abdomen is soaked with your juices, his taut torso gleaming with your cum. Droplets of it roll down his side and seep into the sheets below him. From there, the humiliation is quick to ensue. Chan even sees the panic fill your eyes.

“Oh! I’m so sorry,” you whine apologetically. “I don’t know what happened! I was - I was caught up in-“

Chan ceases your babbling by grabbing the undersides of your thighs and just about throws you on your back as he moves to top you. His sudden movements catch you off guard, wondering for a moment what he was doing until he started fucking you again.

“Chris!” you cry out, latching around his back.

His head buries into the crook of your neck, “wanna feel you do it again. Wanna see you drip down my cock.”

At his words of request, you knew it was possible with the way that his dick hits deeper, pressing against those sensitive spots inside you that have been milked of pleasure. It’s not difficult to feel it building up again. There’s zero refractory period, allowing you to cum in an uninterrupted procession. At this stage, Chan could just whisper dirty things in your ear and have you become a squirting mess on his bed for him to watch. He wondered if that was actually possible.

After watching and making you cum an extraordinary amount of times this evening, Chan was about to witness another, this time, mixed with his own release of pleasure. He can never ignore that dense pressure stacking up in his cock, like a blocked pipe that’s about to burst with the help of the tension from your contracting walls.

One hand at a time, he places each beside your head to lift himself up while still trying to maintain a consistent pace. Then he coils back, grabbing the undersides of your thighs again and leaning some of his weight down so that he can press deeper.

Tears are pricking your eyes - not from any pain but from pleasure you’ve never felt. It’s so intense and has nowhere in your body to escape that the longer you hold it in, the more explosive it’s going to feel. As your emotions exude the ferocity of another orgasm, Chan absorbs your expressions, giving him a very clear estimate of when you’re about to cum.

“Gonna give me another one?” he asks even though you’re in no state of mind to give him a verbal answer. “Gonna be a good girl and get my dick wet one last time?”

You shake your head but only because you’re unsure if you can actually take that pressure that’s about to blow. Regardless of how high he has built your orgasms for you, you always take them well. It has you sobbing - screaming and clutching onto his bedding as you whimper that you’re about to cum. Chan could only just hear you over the sound of his skin slapping against yours.

“You can do it,” he reassures you. “You always do.”

At that moment, as if he just flipped a switch inside you, Chan had you gushing in an instant. Your upper body contorts to the left and stiffens as he fucks you right through it, right until his own orgasm slaps him on cue. Grunts mixed with whimpers force their way out from the base of Chan’s throat. His cock uncontrollably spurts his hot white cum, coating liberal amounts on your walls with a few hard, deep thrusts.

"Fuck, oh my god," he groans through gritted teeth, satisfaction seeping through into his blood.

He pulls back to sit on his heels, looking down as he grabs the base of his cock now slicker than usual with milky, almost transparent liquid rings of white. The fact that both of your juices have mixed together does something to a sick part of Chan’s brain. His lower half is still dripping with your cum, forcing you to shy away into the bunched up sheets when you realise you’ve made another mess on him.

Too weak to speak up about it, Chan had no trouble reading the room and caught onto your emotions. He was right to assume that you were embarrassed for it but fuck if Chan could experience it all again, he would. That then strikes an idea as he massages your inner thighs with the palms of his hands.

“That’s never happened before,” he comments with a little bit of surprise, making you turn with embarrassment, all the while trying to ease you back down from your high. “So fucking hot.”

His thumbs rub into your wet skin, inching closer to your pussy. Before you know it, the backs of his fingertips are brushing over your hole where his cum is leaking out of you. Semi sticky strings of it attach onto him when he pulls away and goes back in to smother it all the way up to your clit. He thumbs softly over the sensitive bud, setting fire again to the muscles in your lower half.

You shudder a little bit from the faint stimulation, and finally muster the energy to talk, “yeah…d-don’t know how. Usually it’s - mm, just cause’…maybe you were hitting the right spot.”

Chan doesn’t meet your eyes, and by the preoccupied look on his face, it was clear that he had another agenda as his thumb continued to rub mindlessly. Although, he did hear you as he smirked and shook his head.

“Nah, that was all you,” his mouth falls open slightly as he stares down at where his fingers begin to disappear.

“Chan…”

“I reckon you could give me one more,” he predicts as he starts to finger you slowly. “Just one more.”

“Please, fuck...” You whine loudly throughout the room. “D-Don’t think I can…please.”

Chan moves to the side of you just a little bit, placing his other hand on your lower belly to apply just a little bit of welcoming pressure while he ignores you, “yes you can pretty. Only one.”

His fingers curl deviously inside you, forcing an automatic bodily response for your eyes to roll to the back of your head and back to arch clean off the bed. As he strokes over the spongy area, your fists are clenching on the duvet. Your body is beyond sensitive and squirms uncontrollably at the faintest of his touch.

“Chris!” You sob, tears now leaking down the sides of your face from the euphoria.

This was the closest replica to being high. It’s like the pleasure picked up where it left off from the previous orgasm Chan brought to you and nearly doubled in intensity to the point where you thought for a moment that you were going to black out. But it hits you harder than before since his fingers have a bit more precision to find and hit your g-spot rather than making you feel fuller.

“That’s my good girl,” he says encouragingly.

There and then, as Chan detects the tell-tale signs that you’re about to cum, he finger fucks you at a generous pace that doesn’t let up on the time your insides have to try mitigate the pleasure. It goes into overdrive, sending a bunch of all the right signals straight to your brain.

“C-Cum…cumming…I’m-”

Chan appreciates the fact that he’s reduced you from crying and screaming his name to a silent, overstimulated mess. Alternatively, you’re surrendering entirely to the ecstasy which sweeps you under like a current. Chan doesn’t need to hold you in place for you to take what he’s giving you with his fingers. He just gives and gives, and gives until for the third time, he has you squirting.

“Oh yeah, look at that,” he grins excitedly, watching his palm and all the way up to his forearm become completely drenched in your juices. “What a good girl.”

By that point, Chan was successful in running your body dry. His pace slows down, now gently stroking inside you. Your quiet, strained moans die down, along with a reserve tank of energy you had left. You were limp and helpless, a gorgeous mess on the bed for him to admire.

Chan slowly takes his fingers out, gently massaging around your sensitive pussy, “fuck, so good."

You turn onto your side, processing all of that. For a few moments before, it felt like you had had an out of body experience, and maybe you were. Everything was so consuming and powerful that for a second you didn’t feel like yourself. But that wasn’t a bad thing, nor did you think of it that way. It’s just a new experience that you welcomed, one that made you feel good multiple times.

Chan hops off the bed and kneels beside you onto the floor as he strokes and pats your head, “you okay?”

You nod then go to sit up, “mm, just out of it. Give me a few minutes.”

“You - you shouldn’t move so much, not now at least,” Chan warns, then quickly spots the uncomfortable expression on your face as you realise that everything beneath you is wet and sticky.

“Your duvet,” you say to him, looking down and around at all the large damp areas.

“What about it?”

“Well it’s all ruined-”

“They’re not ruined,” he says defiantly like a stubborn child, almost like he was offended you even made that sort of comment. “It looks…fucking hot.”

“Hot,” you repeated with an airy chuckle.

“I didn’t know you could do that,” says Chan, bewildered.

“Neither could I to be honest,” you agree wholeheartedly. “It was really…intense and...strange.”

“Strange?” He retorts.

“Not a bad ‘strange’, just something I’ve always heard of, but never managed to do with someone else before,” you reply.

Chan smiles to himself, looking at his bed before that grin drops off his face, “never managed to do it with someone else before? As in, you’ve done it before, just…on your own?”

You blink up at him, quickly changing the subject, “reckon the others are still out?”

“I’d imagine so,” he says, still thinking about what you said previously.

“Hot pot and barbecue sounded so nice too…” you trail off, eyes going in and out of focus. Your body is starting to catch up to you.

“Well, luckily we live in the era of food delivery, right?” He responds confidently. “Let me clean you up first, then we can hop in the shower. After that, I’ll order it in for us, sound good?”

Sometimes when you’re with Chan, you forget that at the end of the day, he’s one of your good friends and still acts like it after you sleep with him. He knows when to be your fuck buddy and when to be your mate. None of it is awkward or weird and nor does he strive to make it that way.

Potentially it’s because of his nature to be a gentleman inside the bedroom just as much as he is outside, hence why you had a considerate amount of gratitude towards him for not being an ass like some of the people you’ve hooked up with or seen casually in the past. But that could never be the two people you slept with a few weeks back.

Not Hyunjin nor Jisung, whom you’ve thought about ever since that night at his apartment. Although it was truth or dare that led you all to the events that unfolded, you would’ve still slept with them anyway without the game. Just thinking about the two of them makes you miss them. Makes you miss the way that they touched you.

It was a different feeling to how Chan normally touches you. With him, he’s a friend with benefits. Someone who can call you or you can call him whenever either of you need each other. As a result, there isn’t going to be anything fond or loving between the pair of you - which you’re more than happy with. You made that clear to Chan at the start that you weren’t looking to enter into a relationship with him at any stage if that’s what he was thinking.

Thankfully, he wasn’t either.

But when Hyunjin and Jisung touched you, it was surreal. Almost natural, like they were meant to feel you that way and only them. That was the difference between them and Chan, not that you were comparing them since you saw them in separate positive lights.

There was just something about those two that left a strong imprint on your brain, something you can’t scratch without them…

I strictly forbid and do not permit ANYONE or any user on any platform to copy, re-upload, translate, remake, or pass off any of my work here on Tumblr or to any other online platform whatsoever. Doing so will result in having your account suspended, deleted, taken down, and or permanently banned.

#rosiewritesskz #stray kids smut #skz smut #bang chan smut #bang chan x reader

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alexiroflife · 9 months ago

Text

'stay with me'

"Across the Earth" Part 3 [finale]: satoru gojo x reader

part 1 | part 2

Synopsis: after having talked with suguru about your relationship with satoru, you find yourself rethinking everything during a night out with the group

to sum it up: suguru suggests you should confess, but you're too scared

WC: 8,997

Ten o’clock eventually rolls around after Satoru spent a good five minutes shouting throughout the house for everyone to get dressed to go to a bar. The thought of drinking or having to deal with one of your friends being intoxicated does not sound very appealing to you at the time, but you figure you shouldn’t argue considering where you currently stand with Satoru.

After your talk with Suguru, you finally managed to get your work done before it was time for you to get dressed. You rummaged through the overnight back that Satoru had apparently taken upon himself to pack for you in search for something to wear when you found the short black dress you had tossed into your luggage on a whim in case you were to happen upon an instance in which you would need to wear it. How Satoru had managed to locate this piece of clothing, you’re not even sure, but you put it on and do your makeup that Satoru also so graciously remembered to pack for you.

You glance in the long mirror by your dresser at your reflection, turning to the side to examine the accentuation of your curves against your dress's stretchy fabric with a sigh. The dress clasps around your thighs and reaches down just above your knees. You admit to yourself that you look good, but your physical appearance does nothing to sway the pit that proceeds to sink into your gut at the thought of Satoru and everything that Suguru said to you.

You’re in the midst of trying to give yourself a pep talk to mentally prepare yourself for the night when you hear Satoru shouting again for you to get a move on, his voice vibrating through the walls of the house. You assume you’re the last to get ready when Satoru doesn’t address anyone else but you.

You trudge down the steps with your hand gliding against the railing, wedges clacking against the stairs until you reach the main hallway and find your friends standing by the door. Shoko’s wearing a cropped silk shirt and a skirt with a cute pin holding up the side of her hair while Suguru, naturally, wears loose and dark pants with a black button up.

But then, of course, there’s Satoru, standing almost as a god before you in a similar shirt to Geto’s only his is a pale light blue with the first few buttons undone and sleeves rolled up to his elbows in the same fashion he wears most of his shirts and linen pants.

You immediately look at everyone but him, completely unable to withstand the gorgeous sight of him dressed up and so well.

When you walk over to them, you feel Satoru’s eyes hit you in what has to be less than two seconds, and while you aren’t looking at him, Suguru notices the way his eyes twitch wide and his brows lift ever so slightly as he looks at you, wandering eyes roaming swiftly over your figure before bouncing back upward.

“I’m here now, no need to keep screaming,” you say with a rigid face. You can’t help but let your eyes flicker into Satoru’s direction to catch his gaze for a millisecond before clearing your throat and looking down.

“We can’t take you two out like this,” Suguru groans, referring to you and Ieiri. You both look at him with quirked brows. “We’re gonna be swarmed by thirsty men the second we step outside.”

“What?!” you and Shoko exclaim as you all start making your way to the door, you, Shoko, and Suguru leading while Satoru trails behind to lock the door after everyone.

“Don’t be mad because (Y/n) and I are hot, Suguru,” Shoko snaps, poking the dark haired man in the shoulder.

“I am mad. I don’t want randoms ruining the night because they don’t know how to coexist with attractive women.”

“You don’t hear us complaining about you and Satoru when girls try to clobber you! Don’t be so sexist.”

“I’m not being sexist, I’m being realistic.”

“Can we all just agree that we’re all hot and attention will follow wherever we go?” you hear Satoru chime in cockily as he locks the door behind him. “No need to compete over it.”

“Who said we were competing? I just said that I don’t want the extra attention,” Suguru responds. You watch as Shoko climbs into the back seat, but you freeze when Suguru follows and sits next to her, leaving the only empty seat to be the front passenger next to the driver, Satoru.

You glare at Suguru out of the side of your eye urgently, and he looks up and around, pretending he doesn’t see. You seethe and swear to yourself that at times, Suguru is even worse than Satoru, which you suppose is why they are such good friends.

You force yourself to suck it up and keep yourself together like an adult. You reach for the car door handle, only to be intercepted by Satoru’s soft hand. His fingers brush yours clumsily, and you jump to look at him when you realize that you two are reaching for the same thing.

The albino man holds your gaze for a moment, watching as you mumble a timid apology instead of barking at him to question what he’s doing so close to you. He doesn’t acknowledge your words when he reaches again to yank the door open and hold it for you stiffly, just as he always does.

You press your lips together, clasping your hands in front of you and slowly stepping into the car. “Thanks,” you mumble, unsure as to why Satoru is still willing to display these gestures of gentlemanliness for you when he is allegedly upset with you, and more importantly, when he’s not goofing around with you and trying to gauge a reaction.

Satoru lingers at the door for a few seconds too long when he shuts it behind you, pressing up to it with both hands before making his way to his seat.

You arrive at your destination after a short drive, clambering out of the vehicle to enter the bar, or at least, what Satoru told you all is a bar. Nevertheless, when you push open the door and make your way inside, you’re greeted by bright lights waving violently through darkness, a crowd of people moving about in the center of the space and dancing wildly. A hightop bar surrounds the outskirts of the room, bartender tending to girls who lean on each other for stability and men who try to hit on said girls. The space is loud, as well, blasting an array of different music genres as the DJ up front nods his head aggressively to the beats.

You and Suguru falter, staring ahead of you in distaste as Satoru smiles for the first time since this morning, or so you believe. “Welcome, you guys,” Satoru beams, gesturing his arms toward the tightly packed enclosure.

“Satoru,” Suguru starts, a dangerous tone in his voice. “What the fuck is this?”

“A bar?” the blue eyed man responds as if the question’s answer is obvious, which it isn’t.

“This is a nightclub,” Shoko yells, shouting over the noise. “Not a bar!”

“Is there really a difference?”

“Oh my god.”

“What’s with the faces? It’ll be fun! Like old times,” Satoru grins, inching further into space. “We go to places like these all the time.”

“Yeah,” Suguru catches up to him to smack the side of his head, and Satoru yelps dramatically. “With a warning.”

“Well yeah sure, suck the fun out of the outing,” Satoru shoves Suguru back, the dark haired man tossing a murderous glare to him over his shoulder.

You shake your head to yourself, truthfully not even angry about the entire ordeal. You’ve spent weeks being angry with Satoru and now that you’re out, you’ve been caught off guard but you can’t say that you have the energy to care any longer. You feel Shoko lock her fingers with yours and tug you, leading you to follow. “We’re gonna go get drinks,” the brown eyed woman announces, the two of you skipping off to push through bodies to reach the alcohol.

“Don’t get kidnapped!” Suguru calls out.

Geto doesn’t miss the way Satoru’s eyes follow you intensely. He scoffs and elbows him in the ribs, Gojo bending over and clutching his upper abdomen. “What the fuck,” he wheezes.

“Get your shit together tonight,” his hazel eyed companion demands, and Satoru’s squinting his eyes up at him over his frames.

“Don’t tell me you’re gonna give me a lecture…”

“If you get it together, I won’t have to,” Suguru says.

Satoru rises slowly, face mellowing out into an expression of discomfort. “Is this about what I think it’s about?”

“What else would it be about?”

Satoru frowns. “I told you already, I’m not gonna keep making myself look stupid. If anyone’s gotta fix anything, it’s her.”

“Oh really?” Suguru hums. “You know, Satoru, it’s unhealthy to direct all of the blame to the other person

“Wh- she ghosted me!”

“And you reacted by…?”

Satoru clicks his tongue and rolls his eyes, brushing strands of white hair from his line of sight. He glances over the crowd to relocate you and Shoko, watching as the brunette hops up into a stool while you lean against the counter, that damned dress he threw in your bag without thinking lining the curve of your ass as you poke it out subconsciously while pressing against the wood. Satoru thinks he’s going to lose his mind, watching the way your foot crosses over your heel and as men stumble bass by, but not without throwing a glance your way unbeknownst to you.

Why do you have to look fucking edible tonight? Why couldn’t you have just worn sweatpants and a t-shirt and called it a night? Why do you have to look so breathtakingly gorgeous everywhere you go?

“I’d do it again too,” Satoru says to himself though Suguru can hear it loud and clear. “She just needed to be reminded that she cares about us, that’s all.”

Satoru hears Suguru release a long sigh, eyes closing and arms crossing. “You’re completely missing the point. Both of you are,” he repeats, this time to Satoru.

“What? Both of us?” he perks up at the last part of his best friend’s sentence. “What does that mean? Is that coming from whatever you guys talked about earlier? What did she say to you?”

“I’m not doing this,” Suguru stops him while he’s ahead. “I’m going to get wasted. I feel like I’ll need to with however this night is about to go.”

“No fair! I’m the designated driver,” Satoru whines, following closely behind Suguru to make his way through the crowd. “You’re all gonna drink without me?!”

“You’ll be fine, lightweight.”

“Some thanks I get for bringing us all out tonight. You guys suck.”

The guys eventually make their way over to you at the bar and find that Shoko has already ordered the two of you shots. Suguru chuckles at her hastiness and orders one more, leading Satoru to murmur incoherently to himself as he leans his back against the counter and watches you all down the nasty liquor. You all tighten your faces and scrunch your noses simultaneously, slamming the glasses down. “Alright, that was a mistake. I’m done,” you say quickly, rejecting the shot glass and shoving it toward the edge of the counter.

Satoru, from Suguru’s side, peers over him to look at you curiously. You look over at him, relaxing your face to see what he wants from you. “Done already?” he marvels, a question that holds no hint of playfulness to it. You shrug.

“Yeah. The taste of alcohol’s not agreeing with me tonight,” you reply casually, catching Suguru ordering another round with a giggling Shoko out of the corner of your eye. “Looks like I’m playing babysitter instead.”

“That’ll make two of us,” Satoru agrees, and the conversation falls short. You nod to yourself awkwardly, setting your hands on the countertop and looking down. Before Satoru can ponder saying anything more to you, the bartender returns to your section with two more shots for Suguru and Shoko. He’s wearing a small smirk as he sets the glasses down before them, slinging a cloth over his shoulder and leaning forward on his forearm.

“You guys haven’t wasted any time,” he comments, attempting to spark a conversation you assume is for the sake of tips.

Suguru chooses to dissociate, hardly in much of a social mood if it’s not with the friends he has arrived with, leaving Shoko to answer for him. “Party’s gotta start somewhere,” she shrugs, and the bartender grins. Suguru and Satoru exchange knowing, annoyed gazes. Here goes the first one of the night.

“That’s absolutely true,” he nods, turning to look at you. Satoru sees the shift of attention as fast as it occurs, and he already isn’t liking it. “What about you? You don’t wanna party?”

You tighten your lips into a harsh smile, laughing lightly with the shake of your head. “No, no, just looking out for these two.”

“Ah. Then you must be a good friend.”

“Oh, you’d have to ask them,” you point down the line of the three beside you. “I can’t say.”

“Don’t be so humble,” he needles lightly. “I’m sure you’re wonderful.”

“What about me?” All heads turn to Satoru, whose chin is propped up and his glasses are lifted above his head, strained grin on his features. “I’m not drinking either. Do you think I’m wonderful?” he drawls, and you slap your hand over your face.

The bartender laughs with far less energy he had speaking to you, suddenly busying himself with polishing a glass. “I’m sure you are, man,” he says before excusing himself to check on other customers. Shoko bursts into loud laughter once he leaves and Suguru downs his second shot, eager to become numb to everything he’s noticing.

“What? He was trying too hard,” Satoru defends, and you look at him intently, for this is the second time within a day that Satoru has interfered with a man’s interaction with you. You were so mad about it before because he was disrespecting your research partner, but now with this guy you didn’t even want to talk to in the first place, you’re taking a second look at his behavior in a different light.

The word Shoko used earlier flashes through your mind. Territorial.

What the hell did Satoru have to be territorial over when you were his friend?

“That’s his job, Satoru. He’s gonna talk our heads off to get a good tip,” Suguru reasons, wincing at the taste of alcohol fresh on his tongue again.

“I don’t give a fuck,” Satoru says rather brightly.

“God, just order another round already.”

With Shoko and Suguru on their way towards blacking out, you and Satoru remain keenly aware of the things that happen around you. The room grows hot due to the gathering and compaction of sweaty bodies dancing together.

At one point, Shoko drags you into the heat, pulling you by your hands and dancing wildly along with you. You laugh at her tipsy state, moving along with her nonetheless as people bump up against you, hollering with intoxicated joy. You allow yourself to let go for a moment, bringing yourself back to all the late nights you had shared with your friends within this exact kind of environment, screaming with each other for absolutely no reason without a single care in the world.

You recall the times Satoru would drag you to the dance floor with him, making you watch the absurdly ridiculous way he danced that had you kneeling over in laughter, hands gripping his arms as the alcohol within your system made you practically die laughing. You had always missed the way Satoru would look down at you as you laughed with your head bowed, an affectionate grin sweeping over his face as the sound of your amusement inspired his own laughs.

You look back on those memories and find yourself momentarily happy to be here, Ieiri jumping up and down before you as if she’s having the time of her life, spinning around and yelling out the lyrics to a song you didn’t even think she knew.

You’re enjoying yourself, gripping Shoko’s hand as she spins you around in turn, watching her trip slightly over her feet as she manages to do so. She’s always been an energetic drunk, you think to yourself, often matching the chaotic behavior of Satoru.

At the thought of his name, you look around to find him and see that he’s still by the bar with Suguru, seemingly poking fun at his mellow drunken state. The dark haired man blinks slowly, eyes lidded as he tunes out whatever nonsense is being spewed into his ear by Gojo. After you watch the tall man take a video of Suguru and the said twenty one year old smack his phone out of his hand, Satoru’s eyes catch yours when he picks himself up from dropping his phone.

You can feel the air thicken with tension, and suddenly, the chaos around you slows. You don’t understand what brings the two of you to constantly lock eyes, for you can’t even count how many times the two of you have made eye contact throughout this night alone. Satoru seems to watch you in slow motion, both of your smiles sparked by separate occurrences dwindling in the slightest as the concentration of your gazes consume the moment. You can feel your heart ringing in your ears, confusion, desperation, fear, and admiration gripping your body as those ocean blue eyes sink into you from across the room, dominating the hundreds of other presences far closer to you than he is.

You ponder over where all the anger you had just harbored for him went. You’re looking at him now, under the flashing pink and green lights that cross over his majestic features, and you can’t find a thing to be mad at. You haven’t been able to, in fact, since after your conversation with Suguru, or perhaps even before that when Satoru stormed out of your room.

Looking at him now, all you can see is him looking at you, the longing to have you back in his life, the hope that he hasn’t completely ruined his chances of remaining friends with you. Suguru had suggested that Satoru may surprise you if you were to confess to him, and the sentiment has your head reeling. Does he know something that you don’t? Does he understand better the reason as to why his eyes can’t seem to tear themselves off of you? As to how he manages to find you in a sea of people as if you are the only person there?

You’re a mess of confliction and heartache when it comes to comprehending your dynamic with Satoru. You thought you had understood him so well, that he’s a person of privilege who can get whatever he wants without caring how it affects others along the way, that he only stuck by your side for so long because he liked to play with your head and to test your patience. You thought you knew, but there’s a chance that you weren’t paying as much attention to him as you thought you were.

If Satoru didn’t take you seriously, why would he have remembered the foods that you like? If he didn’t take you seriously, why did he always stay the night whenever he heard of you having a rough call with your parents? If he didn’t take you seriously, why did he watch you as though you’re the only individual that exists within his line of sight, within his mind, within his entire universe?

You don’t know what to do anymore. Everything you thought you knew has been completely misconstrued, thrown into question, and you’re finding it difficult to return to the mindset you even had this morning.

You’re under a spell cast by his attention on you until a pair of women brush by him and Suguru, pausing to get their attention by tapping Satoru’s shoulder. Your smile has fallen now and Satoru looks torn, eyes flickering between you and the redhead in front of him who leans up to speak directly into his ear due to the overbearing volume of the atmosphere, Satoru tensing as he forces himself to listen. His stare grows anxious, as though he’s been caught doing something bad. You can see the slight panic hit his face as he throws on a suave facade to respond to the girl, looking subtly weary at the way her hand lingers on his shoulder.

You don’t watch any longer, ripping your eyes away and turning back to Shoko. You don’t want to know, you tell yourself. You don’t want to see, you don’t want to hear anything about what that girl could have been saying to him, leaning in close as her lips brush centimeters away from his ears. You don’t want to think about it, whether the conversation is benign or not, you can’t handle the sight. You can’t handle the still lingering possibility, no- the fear that Satoru would see you as just the same as that girl, grasping for his recognition like the rest of the world.

Therefore, you subconsciously avoid him for the rest of the night, bringing you right back to where you started.

The two of you decide that the night should come to a close when it hits one in the morning, and Suguru can barely stand while Shoko is trying to steal the mic from the DJ. Satoru has to physically remove her from the premises, picking her up and throwing her over his shoulder as he makes his way to the door. You’re left to help Suguru, telling him to wrap his arm around you to stabilize himself while you lead him to the car. You grunt under his weight, removing your arm from his torso to help ease him into his car seat by holding his arms. He stumbles in ungracefully just as Satoru bends down to lower Shoko down next to him. You and Satoru sit in silence once more as Shoko rambles to herself about god knows what, and Suguru holds his forehead as though he has a headache.

When you make it back, you somehow manage to get the two up the stairs and situated into their own rooms. You huff, out of breath after having to pull Suguru into his room with a glass of water and a trash can beside his bed. You step out into the hall, closing his door gently behind you to hear a struggle a few doors down where Satoru is begging Shoko to go to sleep and by the sounds of it, she’s too busy jumping up and down on her bed. You laugh to yourself at just how different Shoko is from her normally laid back personality after a night out.

You think about turning in to go to sleep, but for the second night in a row, you don’t find yourself tired from the day. You elect to take your shoes off and head out back to the pool, sitting on the side and wading your feet in the cool water. You sigh softly and look down at the small waves that ripple with the sway of your feet, the gentle splosh of liquid filling the night air. At one point, you notice that the commotion upstairs has gone quiet, and you assume that Satoru has finally managed to put Shoko to bed.

You hear heavy footsteps slowly descend the stairs and approach from behind you. You get a feeling of deja vu from the previous night when you turn and find Satoru standing just a few feet away with a look of surprise on his features. You see that he’s taken off his glasses and shoes, likely having come to do exactly what you are doing.

“Oh,” he mumbles. “Sorry, I thought you were in your room,” he says quietly.

You shake your head, looking at the ground then back up to him. “No, not tired.”

“Again, huh?”

You nod. “Yeah.”

He hums, unsure of where to look all of a sudden. “Is… Suguru good?”

“Um, yeah he’s fine. He passed out as soon as he hit the bed,” you tell him. “What about Shoko?”

“She’s knocked out, finally,” he says. “She made sure to make it extra difficult for me, though.”

You smile gently. “I heard.”

“I swear that woman is a nightmare when she drinks.”

You appreciate the way Satoru attempts to lighten the conversation, bringing a hint of humor into something you can both laugh at. The lights inside are all out save for a dim lamp in the kitchen and the pool lights that keep the outdoor area illuminated. It grows blatantly quiet, the house still as Satoru stands in the walkway, tired, nervous, unsure.

After a few moments, you hear Satoru clap his hands awkwardly. “I guess I’ll leave you to it then,” he says slowly, and you look up at him with a hint of disappointment. “I can take you back to the city tomorrow morning so you can, you know, get back to work.”

Your lips part, (e/c) eyes glazing over in the soft light as Satoru watches you to see if you have anything more to add, but you unfortunately can’t think of the right thing to say. You don’t want him to leave, but you don’t know what making him stay out here will do for either of you. You’re in such a strange space with him, questioning whether he’s still angry with you and him most likely doing the same. The only thing that’s on your mind now is how bad you’ve let things get solely because of your love for him, and it’s eating you up on the inside knowing that as long as these feelings are bottled up inside you, the likelihood of losing Satoru as a friend for good remains.

Satoru takes your silence as a means to leave and exhales, turning to go back inside. “Good night,” he tells you halfheartedly.

“...Good night.”

Satoru stops suddenly, fists tightening at his sides. You notice that his posture has stiffened even more than it already was as he prevents himself from leaving, and you grow slightly concerned. “Satoru? Are you okay?”

“Is that really all you have to say?” he asks, whipping his head around to look at you. He’s upset again, you can tell, but possibly even more so than he was earlier. He looks angrier, more enraged as his brows furrow harshly and his eyes glow with unreleased emotion. You look at him blankly, put off by his outburst as he awaits something more from you, anything from you.

“...I don’t know what you mean.”

This does not seem to be the right answer, for it only makes him angrier. “How can you not know what I mean? After everything that happened today, you still have nothing to say to me?”

“If you’re looking for an apology about this morning, then I don’t think I did anything wrong…?”

Satoru scoffs and laughs disbelievingly, eyes widening as he stares at you as if to process the words that have come out of your mouth. He courses his hands through his messy hair in stress, astonished by you. “I genuinely don’t know what to do with you, (Y/n),” he chuckles. “It’s not even just about this morning- it’s about everything. Everything that’s led us here.”

“I apologized for trying to stop talking to you, Satoru, what more do you want me to say?”

“I don’t know, to say that you care about me?” he throws his hands up. “I mean, do you? Do you even care?”

Your heart clenches at his words, turning to bring your feet out of the water. “Of course I care.”

“Then why do you act like you don’t?”

You stand, sensing the way the conversation takes a turn into intensity. Water drips down your legs from your shins and onto the ground, the air nipping at your damp skin though you can hardly tell. “How could I possibly act like I don’t care about you?”

“Because you choose to be civil with everyone but me, (Y/n)! Suguru, Shoko, your research partner, some bartender- everyone, when I’m the one who's always been here, who’s always cared about you. Me! And you still just-” Satoru sucks in a breath, realizing that he has inched himself further toward you with each passionate stance he takes, face reddening and hands grasping the air for nothing, though what he longs to hold the most stands right before him, appearing as lost as he feels caring for you. He drops his hands to his sides, tightening the muscles in his face.

He’s hurt. He wants you to hear him, to see him, to fight with him over your relationship, but you do nothing, just like always.

Just then, your phone lights up from where it sits by the pool and rings. You jump, startled by the sound and turn to see who is calling you at this time of night. As if the universe couldn’t have hated you any more than it already did, the sight of Aoto’s contact buzzing only solidifies its discontent with you.

You turn back around and watch Satoru’s hardened eyes stare at your phone knowingly, nosing flaring. “Satoru-”

“Forget it,” he spits. “Just fucking forget it.”

“No, Satoru, wait-” you call out. You see him moving away from you, drawing himself back, and your heart drops. You don’t want him to go, you don’t want him to go.

You jump forward and grab his hand tightly, pulling him back over to you with desperation. He looks shocked at first, yet still aggravated when he turns back to look at you. When he sees your hand gripping his firmly, his resolve cracks just a bit.

“Please, I don’t know why he’s calling right now, please,” you beg him, fully aware of how pathetic you sound, but you don’t care. You’ve spent your entire friendship being angry with Satoru, and now you just want to make things right. You want to understand him. You want him to know that everything you did to harm him was to prevent yourself from getting harmed, and while you understand that it’s selfish, it’s what you thought was right. But you don’t think that anymore.

Satoru can feel his body burn from the touch of your hand. He’s so weak for you, he’s known this for a long time, but he can’t stand it. He doesn’t want to look stupid in front of you, he doesn’t want to be ridiculed for caring about you any longer. You’re torturing him, but he can’t pull away. “(Y/n),” he breathes out raggedly, eyes stuck to your conjoined hands. “I can’t do this anymore.”

“What can’t you do?” you whisper, eyes glistening over, the sound of your phone ringing eventually dying off. “I told you I wasn’t gonna do what I did again.”

“Somehow, I just don’t believe you,” he murmurs. “I can see you constantly running from me in your head and I don’t know why. I never will.”

“Please,” your voice betrays you, trembling slightly, and Satoru can not help but melt at the sound.

He’s so weak. You make him so god damn weak.

“I’m sorry,” you say.

“What are you sorry for?” the blue eyed man questions, turning into you. “Do you even know why you’re apologizing anymore?”

“Clearly I keep doing something wrong, Satoru, or else you wouldn’t be looking at me like this!” you cry hopelessly. “I know I fucked up before. I know I did, but today we have a whole other issue that I just don’t understand!”

“(Y/n), you’re the one who got angry with me in the first place.”

“Because you keep doing things that mess with my head, and I don't understand where I stand with you!” you say, and Satoru stares at you, aggrieved. “I don’t know how you can’t understand why I was mad! You weren’t in any place to talk to another guy like you’re-” you cut yourself off, but Satoru is too invested now to let you freeze up.

“Like I’m what? Just tell me!” he urges, and you slip your hand from his abruptly.

“I- UGH!” you shout out, rubbing your hands over your face. You pace around, walking in a circle in front of Satoru before settling back to where you were. “Satoru, I compare myself to you all the time. I’m always looking at the difference between where you stand and where I stand.”

The corner of Gojo’s noise twists upward in confusion. “What?” he exhales.

“Everywhere I go, I see you. I see the way people look at you, the way girls try to talk to you, the way you brush them away, all of it.”

Satrou thinks back to that moment at the bar when those girls approached him asking for his social media handle and he refused politely, claiming that he didn’t have one. “What- what the hell does any of that have to do with anything I’m saying right now?”

“I pushed away because I thought you saw and cared about the same differences between us. But I was the one who cared, who was nervous about it,” you confess. “I thought that you were always around, teasing me because you wanted to prove that you can affect anyone, including me.”

Satoru’s shoulders slump. “...You thought I was only friends with you so I could bother you?” he repeats lowly, as if the very words that touch his tongue are too dangerous to be spoken any louder.

“You have to understand, I was raised differently from you.”

“Why the fuck does that matter?” he demands. “Why would I care about anything like that?”

“I don’t know, but that’s what I thought! That’s what I was afraid of.”

“So you just lumped me into the same category that everyone else in the world lumps me in?” he says bitterly. “You saw me as someone who didn’t value our friendship? That’s what you numbed me down to?”

“I didn’t know!”

“How could you not know, (Y/n)? How could you not know that I would do anything for you?” He steps toward you, gathering your shoulders in his hands as he stares directly into your soul. Your lip trembles as you look at him, overwhelmed. “How could you see me as something so much less than how I see you?” his voice dips down, and a lump builds in your throat.

“It wasn’t like that,” you deny. “I was just scared.”

“Scared of what? You’re fucking killing me, here, (Y/n).”

“I was scared of caring about you more than you could care about me,” you tell him gently, voice sliding into a strained whimper. Pools of sapphire blue dart over your features in search of a clearer explanation, a reason as to why you’ve inspired so much pain.

“That’s what I’m scared of,” Satoru emphasizes. “I’m terrified of it. I’m terrified that you’ll just disappear one day without telling me. That’s why I couldn’t handle you ‘taking space,’ that’s why I couldn’t stand the sight of you with your research partner and not with me, that’s why everywhere you end up going, I will pathetically follow because I can not stomach the thought of you pulling completely away,” he pours out, such raw candor capturing his face.

Your heart is thrumming, caught in your eyes and your throat as tears well up into your eyes. You breathe swiftly through your nose, watching as Satoru takes your face in his hands and stares at you as though he can’t catch any air in your presence. “I pushed you away because I couldn’t stomach the thought that you’d deny me the way that you deny everyone who crosses paths with you,” you tell him, mimicking his words.

“Listen to me,” he whispers firmly. “You are the only person in this world that I would never deny. I don’t know how much clearer I can make myself to you.”

A tear breaks past your lashes and rushes down your cheek, your own emotions betraying you. You can’t fight your heartache any longer, not when the man you love is cradling your face in his hands and telling you that he would choose you over anyone who tries to come his way.

He swipes his thumb over your cheek tenderly, smoothing away your tears. “Why are you crying?” he asks delicately and you shrug.

“I just spent the last three years so scared of you not giving a shit about me,” you sigh shakily. “And I behaved accordingly, and now…” you gulp, hands trembling at your sides as Satoru caresses your face softly. “I was angry with you because you were acting possessive over me with Aoto,” you breathe out, a weight lifting from your chest. “I always thought you did things to get a rise out of me, so when you talked to him like you had a reason to be possessive, it got to me. Especially after you came here unannounced.”

Satoru doesn’t speak for a moment, studying the flutter in your lashes that are decorated with pearly tears and the way your nose twitches move when you sniffle, (e/c) eyes soaking in his being. It doesn’t take long before he notices that he’s slightly shaking himself. “Why do you think I'd be possessive over you in the first place?” he poses the question gingerly, brushing a piece of hair from the side of your face.

You glaze at him, torn. “I don’t know,” you mumble and he bows his head in defeat.

“Come on,” he breathes, looking back up at you. “Come on,” he says again, holding you tighter. “Stop making me look dumb.”

“I’m not trying to,” you tell him, truthfully. “Satoru, why did you come here?” you muster up the strength to ask him for the final time.

“You know why,” he responds.

“Tell me.”

His face relaxes, his brows releasing from their pinched state and his lips falling into a neutral stance as he continues to stare at you. “Because I’m in love with you,” he admits, and your head spins. Your pupils expand as a few more tears rush down your face, blurring the image of him that you so desperately yearn to see. He lowers his head to meet your eyes at your level, holding your head still so that you can’t look away. He looks suddenly calm as the confession rushes from him, leading you both beyond the point of no return. “I love you so much that I flew all the way across the earth for you, and I’d do it again.”

You lean into him and shut your eyes, overcome by relief and love and regret all at once. The pads of Satoru’s gentle thumbs proceed to slide under your eyes to gather the mass of your tears, smearing them across your makeup.

“I love you so much that I woke up every morning to text you, that I memorized every single class schedule you had so that I could meet with you when you were done, that I always came over to your dorm when I was free, that when you stopped texting me my heart felt like it was going to shatter into a thousand pieces, that when I heard you were traveling my first instinct was to run after you because I don’t want you to go anywhere without me.”

His words shower over you like golden rays of warm sun, easing around your heart and mending the torment that you had subjected yourself to for months on end. It’s too much, hearing Satoru Gojo list all the things he has done for the sake of love when you’ve been accusing him of being selfish all this time.

“(Y/n),” he says your name like it’s a prayer. “I love you so much that I feel like I’m going to lose my mind any time another guy even speaks to you. I can’t help but be possessive over you for those reasons. I can’t help but want you all to myself, and I know that’s selfish, but if you only see me as someone who doesn’t care, then there’s nothing I can do to change that. And I am sorry for any time I've ever made you feel like you were nothing when you’ve been everything.”

You can’t breathe. You’re completely captured by Satoru, his essence, his being, his confession. Your heart is bursting, your body is shaking, and you have no words to say that could begin to explain all that you are feeling.

Satoru loves you. He’s always loved you, and you had been so blinded by your insecurities that you hadn’t seen everything he has always done to show you that.

You open your eyes to gaze at him, his rosy cheeks and sharp eyes that send shivers down your spine, his perfect lips, and his body towering over you, swallowing you into him. You see him clearly now, and you break.

You reach out and grab his sides, pushing in to connect your lips.

Years of doubt and pent up tension wash away the moment your lips touch, and you can finally think clearly. Satoru’s eyes go wide when he feels you against him, stunned by your boldness and asking himself whether this is real or not. It doesn’t take him long to give in when he processes what is happening, and he tugs you further and returns your kiss, melting into you blissfully.

You think fireworks are going off, sparks flying, and electricity jolting as he digs his fingers into the back of your head, tilting his own to deepen your kiss and glide his glossy lips over yours. You furrow your brows, drifting into his warmth and humming softly as his mouth moves languidly against yours.

His hands move down, clutching at your waist and wrapping you to his chest, seeking to bring you into him with the hopes of conjoining souls. He’s sweet, the way he kisses you, meticulous and passionate, absorbing the taste of you that he’s been longing to obtain for as long as he’s known you. His palms smooth over your curves, familiarizing and feeling over the fabric of your tight dress, every dip in your hips and plush of your backside, smoothing over your body like a man starved.

Satoru groans, parting from you for a split second to tilt his head the other way and kiss you again, even deeper. Your mind goes numb as you wind your arms slowly around his neck, leaning onto your tiptoes to press yourself further against his mouth. The white haired man is quick to comply, tucking his arms under your thighs and hoisting them up and around his torso. You crush down into him from this new angle, hair falling over your faces as his tongue swipes against your lip, begging to gain access to yours. You part your lips eagerly, welcoming the swirl of his wet muscles around your own, moaning softly into his mouth as saliva pools over your lips.

Satoru’s whipped, completely smitten by you and the feeling of your body pressed to his, addicted to the way your dress rises up over your thighs and the outline of your underwear rubs against his pants zipper. He can feel the blood rushing down already, his face down to his chest flustered angrily as he loses himself in you, biting greedily at your lip and sucking in the delicious taste of your mouth.

He’s moving forward subconsciously, palming over the fat of your ass and pushing you further against his crotch, your pretty fingers knitting into his snowy locks and tugging at the roots. God, it’s everything he’s ever wanted, everything he’s dreamed of brought to one moment in time. The two of you repeatedly break away to push back in, mushing damp lips together in supple pecks, and you breathe a proclamation into him as he grows dizzy, the heat of your breath fanning over his swollen lips.

“I love you too,” you whisper so enticingly, so fully, and he’s moaning helplessly into you, grinding his hips up into yours. “I’ve always loved you.”

You can feel him all over you, touching you, kissing you, and you're drunk off of his affections, falling into the sugary taste of his lips and the warmth of his hands smoothing over your bare thighs.

His lips break away to find your neck, licking and biting along your skin. You tilt your chin back, allowing him further access to your throat as his lips swim over it graciously, sucking hungrily at soft patches and dragging the most beautiful noises from your mouth. “Need you,” he hisses into your neck, teeth nipping and tongue smoothing over bruises in his wake. “Stay with me, please,” he begs senselessly. “Please, baby, I need you. I’ll always need you.”

You’re nodding against him, lips falling into an ‘o’ shape as he sucks marks down to your collarbone, tugging at the straps of your dress and pulling them over your shoulder so that he can kiss all over your chest. “I’ll stay,” you promise him. “Need you too, Toru, I’ll stay. I’m not going anywhere.”

Satoru thinks he’s floating into heaven, now, blessed by your assurance and your reciprocation after having convinced himself that he would never get it. He lifts his head again to reconnect your lips, stepping forward once more only to lose his footing, foot meeting the water instead of the concrete. He parts from you with a smack and you shriek when balance is lost and the two of you are falling into the pool with a SPLASH!

Satoru doesn’t let go of you when you submerge underwater, keeping you close to him when you resurface with a gasp. The two of you breathe harshly, looking around in a stupor. Your arms are still around his neck and legs around his torso, drenched. You look over at his flat hair dripping over his face and you push it away, peeling it from his wet skin to see that he’s already laughing. You gape and whack him on the shoulder, leading him to laugh even louder.

“Satoru!” you cry and he’s giggling, curling his fingers into your skin underwater and leaning into you.

“Sorry,” he laughs, wiping away at his eyes. “I forgot the pool was there.”

“You idiot,” you shake your head, running your fingers over his cheek as he looks at you lovingly, lips stretched into a dopey grin.

“I love you, (Y/n),” he says again, dipping his head to press his lips to your forehead then to the bridge of your nose, and you’re smiling too, stupid off of his adoration.

“I love you,” you tell him and he’s squealing, gripping you tight and squeezing you to him by your waist.

“Tell me again,” he grins, and you roll your eyes.

“I love you, moron.”

“Again.”

“I love you,” you giggle.

“Again, this time with my name.”

“Satoru,” you groan.

“No, you didn’t do it right. Say ‘I love you, Satoru Gojo.’”

“You’re so annoying,” you press against his soaked chest.

“Say it again!” he demands dramatically and you huff.

“Oh my god!” you exclaim. “I love you, Satoru Gojo. Always.”

His cheeks warm, lips moving to peck all over your face. You squeak, gripping his shoulders as he peppers you with loud, obnoxious kisses, leaving you with little space to breathe. “I love you so much,” he mumbles against your cheek. “Almost gave me a heart attack. I thought I was gonna have to kidnap you or something if you kept trying to leave me.”

“You already did kidnap me!”

“And I have no regrets. Sue me,” he beams.

“Of course you don’t,” you exhale. “After all, you followed me to America with no shame. Which I knew you did from the beginning!”

“Duh,” he scoffs. “I’d go anywhere for you.”

You laugh, wrapping your arms back around him and brushing your nose against his. “You’re crazy.”

“When it comes to you, absolutely I am,” he smiles then presses back into you, lips meeting in harmony as he spins you around the water, holding you close and vowing to stay by your side for as long as you let him.

The ping off your phone disrupts the moment once more and you look over, Satoru groaning and ducking his head to your shoulder. “I should probably check that now,” you say, and his grip around you tightens.

“No, don’t,” he pleads. “Pay more attention to me.”

“Just give me a second, drama queen, it could be important,” you say and he pouts.

“Fine,” he grumbles, dragging you over through the water slowly so that you can reach the edge and look at your phone. You quickly read the message that pops up and panic.

“Oh shit.”

“What?”

“I forgot to send Aoto the spreadsheet.”

“Fucking finally.”

You and Satoru break away from each other to turn and see Suguru at the foot of the stairs followed by Shoko, wrapped up in a blanket with a miserable look on her face. It’s the following morning, and you and Satoru were up all night talking, kissing, holding each other. You had managed to take a second to send your spreadshirt to Aoto at around three in the morning, and you could only hope that he didn’t mind. At some point, you made your way into the kitchen to sit inside, and Suguru caught Satoru leaning over your seat to kiss you softly at nine in the morning.

“Well, well, well, look who's up,” Satoru announces as the two trudge their way toward the kitchen table where the two of you reside, Shoko immediately plopping down into a seat.

“Not so loud,” the brunette groans.

“So? You two finally kiss and tell?” Suguru raises a brow, moving around to fix a cup of coffee. You catch the way his eyes glance at your marked up neck and he smirks. “Or maybe more than that?”

You puff your cheeks. “Okay know-it-all, we get it, you knew about us all along.”

“To be honest, everyone knew but the two of you,” he says tiredly. “Right, Shoko?”

“Basically,” she confirms in exhaustion. “It sucked watching you two make one mistake after the other because of it.”

“Hey, it’s not my fault (Y/n) decided being in love with me was bad enough to completely kick me out of her life,” Satoru says exaggeratedly and you nudge him.

“Shut up,” you bark, and his eyes gleam as he leans over to wrap you up in his arms and kiss the top of your head.

“That doesn’t bother me anymore though because I know you’re head over heels obsessed with me,” he sings and you roll your eyes, practically suffocated.

“Oh god, this is what we have to deal with now? Fourth wheeling?” Shoko grimaces.

“Maybe it was better when they weren’t talking,” Suguru adds.

“Boo, you guys are just jealous,” Satoru brags. “After all, (Y/n) and I are in love while you two are still single. How sad,” he pouts tauntingly, then turns back to you to land a kiss directly onto your lips. Shoko cringes while Suguru shakes his head humorously.

“Just make sure you guys are quiet whenever you decide to inevitably fuck on every surface in this house,” the dark haired man says.

Satoru cocks a brow, releasing you and standing up straight. “Who says we haven’t already?”

“Alright, enough out of you,” you cut the conversation short, face bursting into flames. “I have to go back into the city this morning anyway so you don’t need to worry about us. Duty calls.”

“Oh yeah, you two are welcome to come with me, but I plan to stay with (Y/n) for the next few days at the AirBnB.”

“You mean you’re leaving us with this big ass house and no car?” Suguru questions and Satoru smiles.

“Yep. You’re welcome!”

Suguru sighs, far too tired and hungover to engage any further with this conversation. “Whatever. I’m going back to bed.”

“Already?! But I haven’t made breakfast yet!”

“I’m too hungover for this and your cooking sucks.”

“No it does not.”

“Yes it does, Satoru, it’s practically inedible. If you’re gonna let anyone cook, let it be (Y/n).”

“Why do I have to do it? I have to go!”

“Geez, Suguru. How much more sexist can you be?”

“What is with you accusing me of being sexist, Shoko?”

“Since you wanted a woman to cook.”

“I asked (Y/n) to cook because she knows how to! You don’t see me asking your ass to make breakfast, do you?”

“Fuck off. Go back to sleep.”

“I was already going to!”

The kitchen fills with overlapping voices as the four of you bicker over absolutely nothing, just like how you used to. You feel your heart warm, surrounded by the people you care about the most and questioning why you ever thought that you would be better off without them.

You look over at Satoru and smile, watching him provoke Suguru with an evil grin. Despite his hastiness to tease and to poke fun, you see now that he does it out of love, and you relish in the abundant memories of Satoru showering his love over you.

By badgering, by clinging, and by crossing the earth to be by your side.

240 notes · View notes

storiesfromafan · 28 days ago

Text

Gaze - Slight Gale x Reader

A/N: finally, after 2 weeks, I've finished something. And it wasnt what I was expecting to write. Not to mention, I didn't expect this to get a little sad...I started it feeling it would be cute, and then it went a little off the rails 😅

Warning/s: a little fluffy, cute, mentions of bombing, war, panic, scared, terrified... possible spelling/grammar mistakes.

P.s. I might be back in my Buck era...

“I get that you don’t dance” John's annoyingly smug voice broke Gales thoughts. “But maybe – just maybe – you should go ask her to dance. Rather than looking at her like a lost puppy".

Gale turned to his friend, and fellow officer, with a raised eyebrow. “Lost puppy?” He asked in that deep drawl of his.

John laughed, taking a sip from his glass. “Yes, lost puppy. Waiting for that gorgeous gal to look your way". He leant over the table they were sitting at. “You don’t think I haven’t noticed you hanging around the office, hoping to get a glimpse or a word with her?” John cackled. “You’ve got it bad".

Gale could feel his cheeks warming, a touch of embarrassment for being so obvious. He shook his head, taking a sip of his soda.

John continued to push him to ask you to dance. A stone in his shoe through and through. But Gale wouldn’t budge. It’s not that he couldn’t dance, or didn’t want to, it was how he found himself tripping over his words. Scared he would trip over his own feet.

John sighed. “Come on Buck! She got back a few days ago, after a weekend pass to London. Why not engage in conversation about it? Or something!?”

“Talking about London is depressing, this whole war is depressing" Gale retorted, eyes finding their way back to you.

That was it. The moment you had looked his way, you both catching the other gazing. Gale felt his heart skip a beat when you smile warmly at him. And this didn’t get past John, oh no. He noticed the lack of attention from his friend, and then saw the small smile forming on his full lips. Turning in his seat, John laughed seeing who Gale’s gaze was locked onto.

“Well, old friend, that to me is a sign you should go talk to her, at least" was all John said before getting up, and heading for the bar.

Gale weighed up the pro’s and con’s of going over to you. And they were pretty equal. Yet, the moment you separated from the small group of women, and was headed his way, changed it all. You approached with that warm smile still intact.

“Major" you greeted in that bell like voice of yours.

Gale tipped his head. “Miss (L/N)”.

You chuckled at his ever-respectful and gentlemanly way. You’d assured him he could call you by your first name, but he never did. Always Miss (L/N), Miss, your rank, etc. It was endearing, you thought, but also made you think he might not be interested in you, romantically or friend wise.

But then he would look your way, gaze locked on to you – like tonight – and smile. With Major Gale Cleven, you didn’t know if you were coming or going.

“Ah, this seat taken?” You asked, feeling a little bold.

Gale was stunned, you being the one to come to him, to ask to join him. Any other man would probably be offended, but not Buck. He admired your forwardness, as he lacked it when it came to you. But for him it was due to nerves.

He smiled through those nerves. “Sure, it’s yours...”

The smile on your face got brighter, lighting up your face. With a joyous vigour you sat in the seat Bucky had occupied. There was a table between you both, but you felt closer than ever. Prior to this, there had been a whole room between you both.

A comfortable silence sat between you, yet the music from the band filled the room. You both occasionally sipping your drinks. To anyone watching, it was like two awkward – yet comfortable – teens. Maybe you both were wet behind the ears, but that was because of the interest you had in the other.

Gale had been pining over you for months, after watching you and the little interaction you both had. While for you, you’d always had a crush on the gorgeous pilot. Many women on base did. Those dreamy baby blues of his, beautiful facial features and full lips. Not to mention how respectful he was to the women. Yet they never pursued him, afraid of being rejected.

You noted many of the women chased Gale's counterpart, John ‘Bucky' Egan. He too was good looking, but was too much of a skirt chaser for you. That’s why you were delulu for Buck. And maybe part of it was warranted by the interactions you’d had, giving a small flicker of hope.

“I heard you just got back from a weekend in London" Gale said, breaking the silence. “Hopefully the time off base was good?”

He had expected your bright smile to flash his way, you’d cheerfully engage him in what you’d seen or done while away. And yet, your smile faltered momentarily, returning but not so bright. A small sadness tinged your normally enthralling eyes.

“Er, yes...it was pleasant" you responded, seeming to stiffen as you spoke. “London was...London". Ending with an awkward laugh.

Confusion crossed Gale's face, wondering what you meant by your words and appearance. This wasn’t like you. Always beaming, even in the worst of times. Something was off, and he had intended to question you. But the sudden sirens going off cut through the room, drowning out the joyous chatter and band music.

You stiffened more in your seat, panic crossing your face. This was normal. The bombing sirens ringing, telling all on base to move to the on base bunkers. That nearby was Germans raiding. It wasn’t a regular thing, but it did happen. Yet this time it was different for you. Alarming and so very real.

Gale moved from his seat before turning to you, seeing you unmoved. As if frozen on the spot. And you were. He could see it, written on your face, terror and fear. His face softened. Understanding how hard this all must be on you, on any of them.

In your head you were in a panic, body not responding to the logic of your brain telling your body to move. You were frozen in fear. But then you felt a warmth encase your hand, bringing you out of the panic fog that clogged your mind. Looking to your hand, you saw a larger hand holding yours. Following its arm to the body it belong to, and finally the face, you saw it was Gale.

“Come on" he said, voice gentle. “We need to move to a bunker...”

Gale then placed his other hand on your upper arm, helping you from your seat. With you standing, he let go of your upper arm, but never let go of your hand. Which you were thankful for. As if you didn’t have his warmth and touch, you might just freeze up again.

Those on base moved about, many spilling from the bar and lounge you’d both been in. Those on duty made sure to guide others to were they needed to be, before following. Thankfully you didn’t have to go far. From your bunker you could hear the bombs going off, along with the glow the flames created.

Gale was heading into the bunker when you felt that familiar panic rise. And so you planted your feet, like a child would when throwing a tantrum. And maybe the on coming panic attack was like a tantrum, and could have been if Gale had decided to pull you along. Yet he didn’t.

Looking back when he felt resistance, Gale was met by the frazzled sight of you. Your eyes were wide, panic written on your beautiful face. He didn’t hesitate to step back to you, moving out of people’s way. And you seemed to relax a little when he didn’t insist to go into the bunker.

Instead, looking around and noting officers standing outside watching the bombing, he pulled you further down the concrete wall. Choosing to place you both away from others. The passing comments he’d heard from some of the men were a bit tasteless, and you didn’t need to be subject to that.

So there you both stood side by side, away from the others. Gale putting himself between you and the other officers. You were watching the explosions far into the distance, terrified but a little calmer. And that was because you weren’t in the bunker. Weren’t in a small space with numerous bodies.

Gale kept a watch on you, making sure you were alright. Not even speaking. Yet, his hand still held yours. Firmly, letting you know he wasn’t going anywhere.

“T-this happened in London...” you finally spoke. Voice soft, and uneasy. “Bombs. They fell on a part of London, close to where I was staying. People screamed, running for bunkers...”

Gale squeezed your hand, your words hitting him hard. But he remained quiet, waiting for you to continue. If you would.

“I-I managed to get to a bunker...it was really an underground train station. So many of us were huddled together. Men, women and children” you let out a shaky breath. “The place shook from the dropped bombs going off. Scaring us all. At one point I thought, I thought I might not make it out...”

“But you did" Gale stated softly, soothingly in that drawl of his.

You nodded your head. “Yes, but...so many haven’t been as lucky".

He nodded. Agreeing with you. The base had heard, over time, of the casualties, the regular men, women and children lost to this war. It was sickening, and one of the reasons many were fighting.

You began to tremble, Gale could feel it from your linked hands. Without a doubt or second thought, he used your clasped hands to pull you close to his side. Releasing your hand, he moved its arm around your shoulders. He drew you closer into his side. Wanting you to know you were safe, that nothing would happen to you if he could help it.

You buried your face into his chest. Not wanting to watch the glow out before you all. Not wanting to see the spoils of war anymore. You wanted to be safe, wrapped in Gale's arm and warmth.

The night had started out joyous, making do with what the base had. The need to up lift and block out what was happening around the country. The hopes of a sweet moment between you and Gale, with the prospects of growth. But ending on a bitter note, with still that hope for something between you two to flourish.

A/N: should I write more Buck?

#gale cleven x you #buck x reader #gale cleven x reader #gale buck cleven #austin butler x y/n #austin butler x reader

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milliesfishes · 9 months ago

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Enchanted𓇼 ⋆.˚ 𓆉 𓆝 𓆡⋆.˚ 𓇼

[fem reader] contains: nudity, talk of male anatomy pairing: billy the kid x fem reader summary: pirate billy x mermaid reader author’s note: based on my love @francixoxoxo 's pirate billy au- leaving the tag below. (thank you lovey for letting me write for this!) I have a mermaid special interest and it's been a delight. Pinterest Board Spotify Playlist

The sea was a home in and of itself, but it was lonely all the same.

Sitting on the rocks and looking out at the moonlight reflected on the water, Billy pondered this thought, but came to no conclusion from it. The crew of the ship was docked here for the night, on a regular supply run. It was also a chance for the men to stretch their legs, flirt with local women, blow off steam; gear up for the next bit on the ship.

It had been a long night of drinking and roughhousing, and truly, Billy was exhausted by it all. The usual distractions hadn’t sufficed, and now he couldn’t sleep, plagued by the thoughts he’d previously stuffed into the recesses of his mind.

Piracy was far from his first choice in lifestyle, but he’d had little choice in the matter. Growing up by the sea meant he’d taken to the work easily, and he got along with the crew well enough, but his inner voice irked him. It wasn’t honest work, he knew. And sometimes when he was tying a knot or leaning over the railing, he saw his life stretched out before him if he continued on this path. An endless path of mopping, sailing, robbing. He hated how it played out before his eyes.

Shaking his head slightly, Billy began to strip his clothes off, deciding maybe a night swim would clear his head and get it back to normal. It was never good when he got too deep into thought- it only made things worse for a future version of himself.

Summertime made the water warmer than it would have been otherwise, and he left all his clothes on the rock, sliding down into the water. The slight chill sent his thoughts scattering back into the dark from whence they came, and he breathed a sigh of relief. Finally, some peace. A little while in the ocean and they ought to stay where he wanted them for a good while, maybe even until the next time the crew came to port.

Since it was dark, he floated on his back, unashamed of his nude state. He was definitely far enough away from the village that nobody would be able to see him without coming real close. Relishing in the quiet of it, he breathed the salt air and closed his eyes briefly.

While some found the sea terrifying due to the unknown of it all, Billy was comforted by the mystery. His mother had told him young that the water was like a woman; an untamable enigma. One could only fully appreciate it if they leaned into the secrecy. Regarding both women and the sea, the message had served him well.

There was a sudden splash behind him, and he shifted so he was treading water. It was probably just a fish, but he’d learned quickly in his days as a sailor to keep his guard up at the first hint of danger.

Turning in a full circle, Billy saw nothing. Just the moonlit water. The waves lapped gently at his chest as he surveyed his surroundings. A human wouldn’t have been able to hide this easily. An animal would have swum far from him by now.

He moved a little closer to the rocks just in case, keeping an eye on the horizon. Putting one hand on the rough surface of the boulder that held his clothes, he peered at the water below. Nothing, as expected. It was stupid to think he’d be able to see even a foot under.

Another splash. Billy jolted, whipping his head around. He was getting suspicious. “Anyone near?” he called, squinting as if that would make the visage of darkness clearer.

There was the sound of a body in water. A human body. Reaching up for his pistol on the rock, he half-shouted, “I know you’re there! I can hear ya.” Billy stretched his arm. The gun was just out of reach. “Come about!”

Just as he was convinced he’d made the whole thing up, there was a movement in the shadow of the rock a little ways from him, maybe ten feet. Something was hiding.

Intrigued, he stopped trying to grab his pistol. A feeling told him his unknown companion wasn’t a threat. Billy cocked his head, focusing on the spot. “I ain’t gonna hurtcha.”

Slowly, the creature revealed itself from the shadows. The pale light of the moon revealed more than he thought it would. He saw it wasn’t a creature at all. It was a woman. And a stunning one at that.

You were unlike anything he’d ever seen.

Beauty so rare it felt otherworldly. Long, wet hair sticking to your breasts, and he could tell they were bare under that. Your shoulders were uncovered, except by spiderwebs of hair.

He knew he was staring, but he couldn’t help it. There was a magnetic quality to you that he couldn’t shy away from, that he wouldn’t if he had a choice. You blinked at him owlishly, innocently. “Are you a human?”

Oh, your voice. Lilting and light and only comparable to music. He regained his bearings, realizing the odd question. “‘Course. Were ya expectin’ the kraken?”

You tilted your head, gliding closer to him. He felt his heart palpitate as he got a better view. Now he could see the water clinging to your skin and eyelashes, your goosebumps from the night air. It felt like he was being studied, but somehow he didn’t mind. With anyone else it would have been bothersome. With you…he was happy to have caught your attention.

Reaching out, you took one of his hands in your smooth ones and examined it, turning it over once. You traced a finger over the veins, the bones. It was as if you’d never seen one before. Your touch set him on fire.

He realized the oddity of the situation. “What…what’re ya doin’?”

“It’s just the same as mine,” you held out one of your hands for comparison, flexing the fingers.

“I’d imagine it is.” His mind was half and half. One part grounded, the other transfixed by you, hanging onto your every move.

Shifting closer to him, your eyes wandered over his chest, his face, his hair, as if you were looking for something. Billy swallowed. “Is…is everything okay?”

“You’re just like the men we’ve got,” you said distractedly, not answering his question.

“How different are the fellas where you come from?” Billy asked, a thousand unasked questions on his tongue.

“Not much, apparently,” you said as your eyes roved over him. “Except-” your gaze fell below the water, and he got the distinct impression that you were looking between his legs. Suddenly remembering he was nude, Billy reached a hand down to cover himself, cheeks flushing even though it was dark.

“I…uh…” he stuttered, then remembered the water was pitch black. You wouldn’t be able to see him. He removed his hand, shifting a little closer to you now. “What’re ya doin’ out here so late?”

“I like night swimming,” you explained, not providing a reason for your state of undress. Billy wasn’t in any place to judge, since he was in the same way, but it was just so rare for women to be so unashamedly naked like this. Not the women he’d met anyways; you were clearly something different. Something special.

Still peering down into the water, you were squinting a bit. Again, he felt like you were looking at a bit of him he didn’t normally show just anyone. “It’s dark…maybe if I got a closer look-” You made like you were going to dive down, and Billy quickly caught you by the shoulders.

“Ah…let’s not get so close, dontcha think?” he smiled boyishly, slightly distracted by how silky your hair was even though it was wet.

You seemed to understand. “Maybe another time.” As he was holding your shoulders, Billy sunk a little deeper, and you perked up. “Here, let me help you.” Gently, you pushed him against the rock, just holding him there. He was surprised by your strength. Not that women couldn’t be that way, but he was a fully grown man. Yet another strange thing to categorize. But the more unconventional you were, the more of a desire he felt to know you.

“Do ya…do ya come here often?” he asked, trying to learn something about the strange woman by the rocks.

“Not nearly as much as I’d like,” you smiled, and his heart stuttered. “My father doesn’t like it when I stray too far.”

“Especially when you’re meetin’ strange men after dark I’ll bet,” Billy grinned, and you laughed, pretty and clear.

“I don’t imagine he’d like that very much, no,” you sighed. “Especially since you’re…you know…” you nodded at his body.

He nodded back, his grin still evident. “Ah, yeah. Ain’t imaginin’ he’d be too pleased if he knew I wasn’t wearin’ anythin’ either.”

You frowned confusedly. “It’d probably be more about you being human.”

Now he was lost. “Now…why’d that be an issue? You’re…”

There was a beat of silence. You drew back a little, fidgeting with your fingers. Lips rounding in an oh shape, you swam back further, shyly. Leaning back a little and biting your lip nervously, you lifted your tail out of the water. A long, shimmery fish tail.

Billy’s eyes widened in surprise. And suddenly your fascination with his anatomy made sense. He moved closer curiously, but you drew back, looking slightly frightened.

Recognizing it, he stayed where he was, instead outstretching a hand. “I’m not gonna hurt ya. I was just…surprised is all.” Some of the men on the crew had spoken of dangerous women with tails who sang sailors to their deaths and made them mad with lust, and he hadn’t known whether to believe them. But here you were in front of him…harmless, shy and inquisitive.

Reemphasizing his hand, he gave you a smile. “I just ain’t never seen any merfolk before, not in person. But I ain’t gonna do nothin’ bad.”

Looking from his face to his hand, you cautiously moved closer. Billy nodded encouragingly, trying to coax you over. An idea struck him. “I’ll letcha look at my…” he looked down between his legs. “...sometime.”

Your eyes lit up at that. Cautiously, you reached your hand over to his, your soft meeting his rough. He brought you closer, so your stomachs were a breath’s width from touching.

Now that he had you here he was even more enchanted. He knew why he’d been so drawn to you; no doubt it was a part of your mermish characteristics. But there was something else here, something sparkling. Your eyes were like the sea, tumultuous and secretive, and he liked that.

Lean into it.

Billy dipped his head and caught your lips in a brief kiss. You tasted like salt, which only made him thirsty for more. When he pulled back, he saw your eyes were wide like the full moon behind him. “What was that?”

He smiled. “A kiss.” Reaching up, he thumbed the side of your cheek, tucking some of your hair behind your ear.

You searched his eyes. “We don’t do that where I come from.”

“Ah,” he watched your expression. “Did you like it?”

Adorably, your brow furrowed slightly in thought. Then you slowly nodded, lips parting slightly as you looked up at him. “Yes.”

Billy hummed, his fingers finding the spot under your chin. “Do ya…wanna do it again?”

A slow smile came to your face, and you nodded again, tilting your head up and waiting, looking expectantly at him. He chuckled slightly, the hand that had been holding yours sliding around your waist and pulling you into him. Now he could feel the line where your skin ended and your tail began. Soft and sleek, all of you was.

“Close your eyes,” he said warmly, and you obeyed, your chin still lifted. Smiling at the sight of you, waiting to be kissed, he committed the image to memory. Your eyelashes were touching your skin, causing a pearl of water to fall from one of them, looking like a tear. Skin glowing from the light of the moon, hair wet and curling over your torso, you were a vision.

Then he leaned down and moved his lips against yours again, feeling like every star in the sky had decided to smile upon him that night.

Maybe he’d imagined he could be captivated by a mermaid, but he never dreamed he’d be kissing one.

Billy felt your hands slide up his chest, seemingly testing the waters. He smiled against your lips, nuzzling his nose on your cheek. His hand lifted to slide into your hair, holding the back of your head and pushing your mouth onto his.

You seemed unsure what to do with your hands as they were settled on his shoulders. Billy sensed it and took his other hand off your waist, fingers grasping your hand and dragging it into his hair. It seemed that instinct took over, and your fingers combed through his curls, eliciting a quiet groan from him.

Pressing your chest into his, you folded your arms around his neck, your hand remaining in his hair. The action lifted your body further up, and he lowered his hand to where your bottom would be if you had legs, making you shiver against him.

Pulling back slightly, he ended the kiss with a few gentle pecks, slowly easing you out of it.

Your smile when he opened his eyes was radiant. Billy traced his hand up your bare back, stringing through your salt strewn locks.

“Why do humans do that?” you asked in a hazy way, smiling sweetly up at him.

He returned it, feeling happy in a carefree, foolish way. “To…show other people ya…ya like ‘em. Cause it feels nice.” He stroked the apple of your cheek. “Did it feel nice for ya?” That part was asked in a whisper.

Your eyes were soft, slightly stormy in the best way. “I liked it.”

Billy smiled and leaned in for another kiss, but you lifted your head suddenly, as if you’d heard something. He frowned. “Are you-?”

“I have to go,” you said hurriedly, fixing your eyes back on his. Carefully, you pressed your lips to his for a slow kiss goodbye, and he felt like he was floating.

Before he knew it, you had slipped out of his arms and the last thing he saw was the glimmer of your tail on the horizon.

Billy didn’t move for a moment, dazed by you. He took in a breath, laughing slightly in disbelief.

A mermaid. He’d kissed a mermaid. And it had been like fireworks.

Next part

#billy the kid pirate au #billy the kid #billy the kid x reader #billy the kid fanfiction #billy the kid x you #william h bonney x reader #william h bonney fanfiction #william h bonney x you #billy the kid imagines #billy the kid au #billy the kid 2022 #william h bonney imagines #william h bonney #milliesfishes billy #Spotify

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