#idk how else to tag this good luck y'all

[celestie0]

gojo satoru x reader | college au [18+]

kickoff ch.12 how you get the girl

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

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

ᰔ warnings/tags. 18+, fem reader, fluff, angst, smut, college au, fraternities, sororities, partying, drinking/alcohol, romance, jealousy, pining, slow burn, opposites to lovers, friends to lovers, she falls first he falls harder, gojo being an idiot, marijuana use, sexism, sexual harassment (verbal only)

ᰔ chapter. 12/x (probably 18)

ᰔ words. 11.3k

a/n. man the color scheme for this chapter is kinda giving BRAT lolol...i mean gojo IS brat. anywho, i don't have much to say at the beginning of this chapter but i do have a LOT to say at the end of it sooo see y'all at the bottom!! hope u enjoy. also BIG THANK YOU to @whereflowerswenttodie who beta read parts of this chapter for me n convinced me not to scrap it lol

nav. masterlist

☾·̩͙꙳ moodboard no.1 :: ♬.*ﾟplaylist

11:03am you: hi! 11:03am you: good luck today 11:03am you: incase i don’t see you

11:05am Gojo Satoru: Why wouldn’t you? Aren’t you gonna be on the field for your newsletter shots?

11:07am you: i mean yes but idk where i’m gonna be stationed so 11:07am you: it might not be on UTokyo’s side of the field

11:08am Gojo Satoru: Okay then I’ll look for you before the game starts

11:10am you: no pls don’t. coach yaga thinks i distract you. i don’t want to get yelled at again. he scares me :(

11:12am Gojo Satoru: Haha you’re silly 11:13am Gojo Satoru: East side entrance at 2 11:13am Gojo Satoru: Be there

11:14am you: or be square?

11:15am Gojo Satoru: Yea whatever shape you wanna be in is fine cutie

It’s a bright sunny day outside, perfectly blue sky with a scattering of fluffy clouds seen outside the window of your shared room in your apartment, and you realize spring is fully here from the way birds chirp past the glass. You’re stuffing your camera case full of chilled Kodak film rolls, your last stash left, and it’s the last piece of equipment you pack before slinging the strap over your shoulder and heading out the door.

Mina had offered to give you a ride to the stadium since your car’s still at the shop, but you’re happy you opted for the bumpy bus ride and although you come close to low-grade concussions from the bang of your head to the window at every other speed bump, the music in your ears while someone else is operating a public transport vehicle helps you think creatively before shooting shots.

It was surprise enough that Mina of all people was going to this game, and when you questioned her about it in the morning, she looked at you like you were absurd to assume anyone from UTokyo wouldn’t be at this game, and sure enough, it’s all anyone on Instagram has been repping on their stories or talking about in the bustling minutes before lectures. Even Utahime was going to this game, and she hates all intercollegiate sports. You knew the game was a big deal, given the way Coach Yaga was yelled at via email by the Dean of UTokyo to make sure the team wins today because a multimillion dollar Nike sponsorship would be greenlit by the prospect (for some reason you were cc’d in an email chain among divisional higher-ups, but you weren’t opposed to snooping in on conversations that were entirely outside of your tax bracket).

It’s because it’s the second to last home game before the season ends, and apparently this has been statistically the best season the UTokyo D1 Men’s Soccer team has played since the new millenia. No pressure to the players on that fact, but failure wasn’t much of an option for them anymore. 

And you can feel the stakes the second you step inside the stadium. Packed would be an understatement, there were people flooding the aisles, overbooked for the sake of the university pocketing an extra buck no doubt, but spectators could care less since they were able to at least get in on the basis of that irresponsibility in the first place, despite the stadium’s capacity having long been reached before the pregame festivities even start. Banners and signs drape over railings with the school’s striking blue and golden colors, every single replay screen is lit up and brightly pixelated at every north, south, east, and west entrance for inclusive viewing. As you pass VIP security and make it into the lower field-level entry, the scattered chants from the crowd amplify in volume and you almost wince a little to yourself from the noise. The stadium felt like a living, breathing entity, pulsing with the collective heartbeat of everyone inside. 

You’ve never been more overstimulated in your life, except instead of finding it frightening, it was electrifying. And for once, you think you can understand what an athlete must feel when playing on their own home turf surrounded by those that are wholeheartedly rooting for them.

Hana is quick to spot you, panic clear across her face as she regards you with a couple pages with your assigned vantage points, a rushed briefing session, and then she’s darting down the sidelines to make sure equipment is set up appropriately where needed. She’s understaffed, given you told Utahime about Kai’s little intervention last week and she made a nasty point to the university (and possibly a handful of legal threats) and they relented in firing him. So now the three of you were down a photographer, and the extra work shows in the instructions she gave you as you skim the sheets. 

A glance at your phone tells you it’s close to 2pm, and your eyes take in the expanse of green on the field. UTokyo’s players practice kicking shots off to the right goal post, while YCU’s players practice shots off to the left. You can’t spot where Gojo is, but you faithfully head down to the East Side entrance like he asked you to. 

When you round the corner, you almost crash right into an Ichiko mascot, but swiftly dodge, and then you stop in your tracks when you see Gojo standing right at the concrete entrance. He’s leaning back against the adjacent wall, arms crossed at his chest, and he’s stretching his neck side to side with a creased brow, an intense look in his eyes, lost in serious thought, scanning the wall across from him like he’s mapping out plays in his head. 

When you approach him and catch the corner of his eyesight, he leans off the wall and flashes you one of his so extremely charmed to see you grins on reflex, and suddenly there’s nothing your senses seem to pick up on except him. Like everything else around you just disappears.

“Hey, you,” he says when he comes up to you, and you walk him like a dog back to a corner that’s tucked further away from noises and sights. You lean your back against the wall now, the coolness of concrete seeping through the fabric of your shirt, and he stands a step in front of you. Your hands toy with the strap of your camera.

“Are you ready to win today?” you ask him, and look off to the right into the flourishing seats that are still being filled to the brim, “clearly there’s no pressure.”

He breathes in deep, and releases it slowly, like there really was tension to relieve. “We’ve got no choice but to win.”

“Is that something Coach Yaga says to you guys often?” you ask him, because the man recited the same thing about five times in that email chain. “Also, apparently you take years off of his life.” Another thing he recited about five times in that email chain.

Gojo only addresses what he wants to address, as per usual. “Yeah, it’s something he says to us often.” 

“So,” you say, “what did you want to talk about?”

He looks at you puzzled, tilting his head to the side. “Nothing. I just wanted to see you.”

It’s hard to assume that he didn’t have something to talk about with the intention of telling you to meet him here, because this is the same place you confessed to him a few weeks ago, and so is also the place he so painfully rejected you. But maybe he doesn’t think about these kinds of things as much as you do. “I see.”

His tongue pokes to his cheek as he studies your anticipating expression, and then he sighs, his shoulders slumping slightly. “What are we doing? I mean, I like you, and you like me too, at least I hope you still do. Why don’t we—…why don’t we just give it a go already? I don’t see how we can move forward if you won’t at least let me take you out on a date.”

Your hands stop fidgeting with your camera strap from his words, and you lick your lips, suddenly unable to keep eye contact with him so your gaze drifts down to his chest in front of you. His uniform is clean, no smudges of dirt or grass, just pure white fabric underneath heat-pressed blue and golden accents, and of course, that signature number 10. You’re sure he’s all you’ll ever think of when you see that number now for the rest of your life. 

You know when you want something so bad you don’t know what to do once you have it? Because it almost seems too good to be true? 

“I just wanted to let stuff between us breathe for a little bit,” you confess, “it’s just, it was a lot to deal with. Being around you when I thought you didn’t want me the way I wanted you. I don’t know if this is odd to say, and maybe I’m overthinking it, but I just feel like somewhere along the way, I kind of…forgot who you were for a little bit.” This kind of vulnerability would have you running away with your tail between your legs with anyone else, but not with him. Not after everything. 

His expression softens, melting away that confrontational energy he had earlier, and he nods slowly. He opens his mouth to speak, but he can’t seem to find words. The presence of them is there, though, you can feel them. But what good are his thoughts if not voiced? 

“I just wanted to spend a little bit of time getting to know you again, I guess.” You squeeze your arm in reassurance of yourself because he wasn’t giving it to you. You let out an awkward laugh. “I don’t really know what I’m saying right now, to be honest.”

You can tell he’s at a crossroads, and you think back to this week and his efforts to get you to open up to him again. You know how he feels right now, because it’s exactly how you felt when he rejected you. Like when someone is so close, yet so far, you can feel that they’re within arms reach but never truly. And they’re slipping away for some reason that you may never know, but all you can do is assume that it’s a fault of your own. You’re not really sure what he can do to make you feel secure about this whole thing anymore, and you can see the slight panic in his eyes when he realizes that too.

“I don’t mind waiting,” he tells you, rushed with a desperation entirely contrary to his words, “what’s a week or two when I want to spend a lot more of those with you anyways.” But he takes a deep breath, like he’s already mentally preparing himself for an agonizing wait in his head.

There’s a sound over the stadium speakers, something technical and sporty and goes entirely over your head in dismissal, but to Gojo it seems to have a different effect, as he’s suddenly attentive and stands up straighter, that focused expression on his face from earlier resurfacing. You realize he needs to get back to the field. 

“Can we continue this conversation after the game?” he asks you hastily, already turning towards the center of the stadium. And he adds an obligatory, “sorry.”

“Yeah, sure,” you quickly agree, suddenly feeling like you’re taking up his time. 

He gives you a small smile, unsure in its presentation but pure in its intention. But he can only take one step towards the field before you reach out and pinch the fabric of his jersey to keep him still. He feels the tug of it and fully faces you once again. 

“Um. Just a sec,” you say, “I have something to give you before your game.”

“Oh?” he looks at you with interest, “I fucking love things.” 

“You have to close your eyes though.”

“…what is the thing…” He squints at you with a what are you up to expression.

“Just close your eyes!” you snap at him.

“Okay, okay, jeez,” he holds his hands up in front of him in surrender, shaking his head to get his hair out of his face and then he closes his eyes. “You’re scary as hell sometimes. Excuse me for being cautious.”

You roll your eyes, useless because he doesn’t see it, and then take a step towards him. You cup his jaw with the palm of your hand, his cheek twitching slightly from the unexpected contact, and then you raise on your tiptoes to press your lips to his cheek. It’s short and sweet with the sound of a peck.

“For good luck,” you whisper, then you quickly lower yourself back onto your heels, take a step back and tuck some strands of hair behind your ear. The ground suddenly interests you.

He opens his eyes, blinking a few times with shock and his hand comes up to brush the tips of his fingers against the spot you kissed him, and then his gaze goes comically dazed when he reaches out to hold you. “Alright, c’mere you,” he says, closing his eyes and puckering his lips as he leans down to kiss you but you laugh and push his face away.

“No no no, only on the cheek for now,” you say with a small laugh.

He does nothing to restrain his frustrated groan. “You can’t do something that cute and then expect me to be chill about it.”

“If you win, then, maybe I’ll let you kiss me for real.”

“Maybe?”

“Yes. Maybe.”

He’s close, towering over you near this bustling east side entrance that he seems to like so much, and his eyes drop to your lips. “Alright. I like those odds.” 

You give him a smile and slip away from him to get back towards the field, and you feel his eyes on you as you walk away.

The pregame events are a blur, with blaring music accompanied by the sounds of the sports announcers clipping across the speakers, finally quieted down in time for the players to line up on the field for the national anthem which was then followed by UTokyo’s alma mater. 

You’re stationed on the same side of the field as Minato, UTokyo’s side, while Hana is covering the sidelines of the opposite end with the opponents goal post. Minato’s filling up a cup of Gatorade for himself at the athlete’s station and then he comes back around to find you.

“Are you ready to take your shots? I see Hana wanted you to shoot on film today,” he says to you as he sloshes around Glacier Freeze in a flimsy plastic cup.

You twist your aperture dial with your thumb. “Yesss, all set. I’ll try to keep up.” 

He nods at you in approval.

The atmosphere feels nerve wracking. Something felt different about this game, the stakes feeling high. Well, of course they’re high, because if they lose today then they’re out of the tournament. But the stakes feel high for other reasons too, an energy you can pick up on but can’t quite discern. 

Your eyes drift across the field where you can see a referee placing a ball at the center of the field. Off to the right, you can see Gojo standing with a few of his other teammates, including Geto, Nanami, and Choso, and they’re all gesticulating to various corners of the field as they discuss what you can only imagine have to do with their plays for today. And you realize— it’s their last college soccer season. Their second-to-last official home match before the championship, and for those of them that haven’t qualified for the national league, it may be their second-to-last match of this caliber for the rest of their lives. One of the final chances that they have to prove something of themselves. The determination was palpable. 

The chief referee’s whistle cuts through the air with three short chirps, and that gathers the attention of all the players on the field. UTokyo wins the coin toss, choosing to kickoff, and YCU’s players choose to attack the left side goal.

Your stomach churns with anticipation, the crowd hushing too as all the players take their places on the field. If you feel nervous, you can only imagine how the athletes feel. There’s a rhythm that you’ve learned over the past couple of months getting to know the sport, where players stretch out their necks and kick out their feet and take subtle deep breaths as they survey the stands. Idle moments before the start of the match where they have no choice but to look forward and only forward, so they take a moment to stay in the present for as long as they can gather. You’ve never been much of a sports spectator, and perhaps you’ve only recently had some personal interest in the team, but you realize you feel pride in your school as you stand behind chalk sideline and see UTokyo’s colors scattered across the field in uniform. And fuck, you wanted them to win. You wanted them to win with fierceness and wrath, and it’s a desire you share with the crowd. 

Gojo spends a minute talking to the referee before the black and white striped man pats him high on the back in the good sport and urges him towards the center of the field. He lifts his foot up onto the ball, rolling it back and forth underneath the spikes of his cleat, and you can see it in his eyes, even from all the way over here, that he seems to have different ideas in mind for this game too. High stakes. Pre-determined, set with will, evident in the clench of his jaw and the concentrated furrow of his brow as he surveys the field with his eyes, and you’re lost in the sight for what feels like forever because you can hardly register the chirp of the ref’s whistle. 

And then the kickoff starts. 

The ball is tapped to Geto to start the play, and the first few minutes were intense as the ball was passed back and forth between UTokyo’s players, placing pressure on YCU’s defense as they inched closer and closer towards the goal. A pass between UTokyo’s #4 was intercepted by YCU and the ball was rushed down towards the left side, the crowd’s horror evident in the uproar as they raise to their feet in fearful anticipation, and with ruthless offense, YCU’s forward takes a clear sink shot towards the goal, and the crowd holds their breath before they watch Choso lunge for it in air, gloved hands firmly grabbing the ball and then pulling it to his chest with a possessiveness you can only expect to see from a skilled goalie, before he crashes down into the ground and the crowd releases relief in the form of rowdy roars.

Ten minutes in, with everyone on their toes, each team tested each other’s defenses. UTokyo were known for stellar offense, especially within the past few years with players like Gojo Satoru and Takuma Ino joining the league as powerful forwards, but UTokyo’s overall offense was still statistically second to none other than YCU. And the pressure YCU was putting on UTokyo’s defense was wearisome to say the least. You glance to see Nanami, who is UTokyo’s best defensive player, huffing and puffing as he stands between two light-footed YCU players in an attempt to guard, and fails an attempt to steal the ball before it gets to the feet of YCU’s striker #6, passed in a split second off to his teammate, with a fake so seamless that it has Choso just a couple inches away from touching the ball before it’s sent flying into the net. 

The noises from the crowd are still loud, but dampened in spirit. 

With the referees hand signal up in the air, the current score is confirmed. 0-1, YCU. 

Coach Yaga calls for a sub, in which he switches Nanami out for who you believe is a 2nd-year defensive player name Yuta you’ve seen around practice with a promising statistical record for interceptions, and you watch as Nanami takes the bench before he swipes the sweat off his face in exhaustion. God. Just fifteen minutes into the match, and YCU already has UTokyo’s defense winded from play. 

You bring your camera up to your face, forgetting for a moment that there was still a job to do here, and you position the direction of the lens towards the center of the field, where Gojo takes his place at the ball once more. Yuta briefly passes by him, signaling some play to him by holding up a number three, likely something Coach Yaga asked him to pass on to Gojo, and you see him briefly nod, his mouth slightly agape as he breathes slowly and pulls his jersey up to wipe at the sweat at his forehead. 

The referee chirps the whistle, Gojo taps the ball to Yuta, and the play starts. 

YCU immediately puts pressure on UTokyo’s offensive play once more, with eager movements to steal the ball, but it’s passed between UTokyo’s players with ease, more practiced and more sure. The kind of play that you and the rest of the school was used to seeing from them. However, Geto loses the ball on a left-back pass, but right when YCU makes attempts to cover field in a long-shot kick towards the left, Yuta intercepts the ball and swiftly passes it to Gojo.

The crowd immediately rises to their feet in anticipation, watching as Gojo shuffles the ball down the field, dangerously close to off-field boundaries, a signature tactic he uses because he knows there’s not a single player in the league that can match him in precision and control to keep the ball in-field on a steal, and he swiftly passes it towards Geto with a side-swept kick, beelining down towards the goal post, in perfect time for Geto pass-back to meet his feet and when Gojo was this close to a net, there was no stopping him. 

He draws his right foot back, and explosively kicks the ball forward, chipping the grass under it in the motion, and it’s sent flying towards the goal, and then threaded past the goalie right to the back of the net. The cheers that erupt across the stadium rumble the ground beneath you. 

1-1, even match.

UTokyo spends no time celebrating, other than a few pats to Gojo’s back as he nods in acknowledgement, no emotion on his face other than pure concentration and greed. The greed to win, like a righteous sin. He stretches his neck out, panting slightly as he takes his place towards the right side of the field and the referee chirps his whistle to signal YCU to start the kickoff.

They quickly make attempts in moving the ball towards their scoring-end of the field, but face push-back from UTokyo’s defense, unable to make it much further past the midfield line, and you bring your camera up to take a snap of Gojo, who you see is still standing off to the right side of the field. But when you position it and peer through the viewfinder, that space he once stood at was empty. You pull your camera down, and blink at the sight, and then the crowd is picking up in volume once more.

Gojo sprints down the flank, cutting past every defender, and moves towards YCU’s attacking goal, which was a shocking place to be for a center forward, but you could feel his desire and determination to steal this back-and-forth ball, and succeeds when YCU makes an open pass, thinking they were in the clear, only to have Gojo sneak in at the last moment and get the ball at his feet. 

The play moves by in a flash, a blur that you or anyone else in the stadium could hardly keep up with it, movements so fast you were shocked a human being was capable of even running that far in such a short amount of time, and in an almost embarrassingly easy play, Gojo makes a fool out of YCU’s defenders as he slips the ball through the legs of his last obstacle before he struck it with sharp precision, sending it soaring to the corner of the goal, past the outstretched arms of the goalie, and into the net. 

2-1, UTokyo.

It was electrifying, the feeling that strikes through the stadium, one that reaches you in your own blood. You’re shocked, standing here, after witnessing Gojo score two goals within the matter of minutes, against one of the top three teams in the league. It’s a shock that reaches everyone, including Coach Yaga who’s standing about ten feet down the line from you, his arms crossed, and you see his eyes for the first time as he takes his sunglasses off to get a better look at what he’s seeing.

You trail his sight, dragging your gaze across the field until it lands at Gojo, who is barely acknowledging the encouraging pats and shakes and goodhearted shoves that his teammates were giving him, because he was focused. It might sound crazy to say, but you swear his eyes looked like a fiercer shade of blue, like they were lit up, and you’re insanely glad you’re not one of YCU’s defensive players at the moment because you feel fearful of him even just standing on the sidelines. 

Your gaze trails back to Coach Yaga, who slowly puts his sunglasses back on but his brows are narrowed tightly as he crosses his arms over his chest tightly.

The “athletic zone”... You’ve heard of it before. A state of pure focus, of peak performance, where an athlete experiences optimal concentration and a sense of effortless control over their actions. In which they perform at their highest level, where time slows down, any and all distractions fade away, and they’re completely immersed in their sport at hand. At the task at hand.

Coach Yaga seems to pick up on the fact that Gojo was on the edge of tapping into that state. 

YCU makes a substitution, and you watch in anticipation as they begin the kickoff. 

There’s fire in their veins with desperation to even out the score once more, rushing the ball down the off-field line, one of their center forwards mimicking Gojo’s signature attack pattern, and Yuta struggles to keep up with the expert dribbling of a fourth-year player with more experience on him, so much so to where he completely leaves the ball unguarded and there’s an open shot, but Geto places pressure at the last moment, in a fierce battle for the ball, before YCU’s center forward loses the ball over the goal line. 

Choso picks the ball up, tapping on it harshly a few times as he surveys his eyes down the field, and all offensive players begin to shuffle towards their attacking goal in anticipation for the goal kick. He signals his hand down and then holds up two fingers in the air before placing the ball down on the six-yard box. He tightens the strap of one of his gloves, eyes squinting, and you follow his gaze down to a part of the field where you note UTokyo’s best aerial players are located and being guarded by YCU’s defense. And with complete trust in his team, that’s exactly where he kicks the ball. 

Geto makes first contact with the ball, his chest colliding with two other YCU players as his head comes out on top and he headbutts the ball closer towards the inner field, and Gojo immediately gains access to it with a bounce of his knee. The crowd holds their breath, fear that they’ll lose the ball to a steal in the split second it spends floating in the air, but Gojo urges it forward with a bounce off of his chest and then rushes it straight down towards the goal post. 

You wonder what sight he sees right now. Where you’re dead center, at no angle, lunging towards the sight of an open goal with a sole goalie standing in the center, anticipating to block your shot, and three defenders on your tail. There’s no room for error, no time to think, only instincts that you cultivate in the last leading milliseconds. They say that, in sports, athletes channel one hundred hours of practice in just a brief second on the field. A split second success that was years in the making. You can’t even imagine possessing that level of perfection in your body, or possessing that level of confidence that you can follow through with it in a moment as dire as this.

It was unreal, the way Gojo fades away from all the defenders, and faces no fear when confronted with the sight of the goalie in front of him while drawing his foot back to kick the ball. You lift your camera up at the last second, no time to think about aperture or ISO, just like he had no time to second-doubt a single twitch in his muscles, and his foot makes contact with the ball so harshly that you can hear the explosive sound even among the delirious cheers from the crowd, before he hook, line, and sinks it straight past the goalie’s head, rushing by like a scarcely deflected bullet, and into the net behind him. 

3-1, UTokyo.

The whole stadium is momentarily speechless, all players and referees and recruiters and reporters and coaches and employees alike, before the most deafening cheers you’ve ever heard in your life scatter across the stands.

There’s a moment of brief reprieve, where the players can catch their breath while YCU makes yet another substitution, as if they’re just trial-and-erroring it at this point, and the cheers in the stadiums remain idle as you can’t tear your gaze away from Gojo.

It’s one of those moments where you realize that someone who you thought was so familiar to you was actually someone you hardly knew at all. You knew he was a talented soccer player, everyone on campus knows it, potentially one of the best to ever grace the league, and the amount of times you passively watched his plays on a lecture hall projector screen as your professor enthusiastically broke them down during class, even before you met him, was good enough for you to realize that he was insane, a one-in-a-million, a talent you cannot replicate, one you have by divinity. One you were born with. 

And yet, somehow, getting to know him these past couple of months, he just felt so human. For someone so seemingly beyond you, he felt so…close? In those moments where it was just the two of you, it was hard to imagine that he was capable of such greatness, and that so many people were rooting for him with wholehearted tears in their eyes and cheers from their hearts, because most of the time, when he was with you, he was just a dorky idiot. You find that your heart is beating fast in your chest, that feeling of being unsure of what to do with what you’ve been wanting resurfacing powerfully. 

“This is insane,” you hear Minato say from beside you and you jump a little from your thoughts being interrupted.

You twiddle with your camera straps. “I know…almost done with the first half and we’re up 3-1…I thought YCU are number one in offense for the league?”

“Oh, yeah, I mean, yes, that is insane too. But what’s even more insane is that three of the goals so far have been scored by one player.” He tips his chin towards the right sight of the field and you trail his line of sight. “By Gojo Satoru.”

Your brow furrows as you watch Gojo, his hands on his hips and his mouth slightly open as he indulges in a few shallow breaths to gain energy while YCU prepares for kickoff. Three goals, by just one player. Your eyes widen when you realize that is insane, especially for a D1 semi-final qualifying match.

“You know what the divisional record is for most goals scored by a single player during a championship match, y/n?” Minato asks you as he lifts his camera up to take a picture of the area Gojo was standing in. 

You shake your head and wait for his response.

He drops his camera down and glances at the photo on his screen. “Four. During Keio Uni vs. Osaka Uni, near the beginning of the tournament back in 1997 by Osaka’s center forward number 24, Yuji Nakazawa. Meaning no one’s managed to beat that record since the new millenia, for a couple decades. Although a few players came close.”

You blink at him, and Minato is jerking his chin over in the direction of Gojo again.

“I think he’s trying to beat the record.”

You can only widen your eyes at Minato in realization, and then the chirp of the referee’s whistle draws everyone’s attention back to the field. 

The sports announcers go wild on the speakers, the crowd raving all the same, standing to their feet like the team just won the championship match.

“LADIES AND GENTLEMEN!! We are watching HISTORY in the making!! Gojo Satoru, UTokyo’s very own 3-year consecutive MVP, has scored his 34th goal of the season, highest of any player in this year’s season so far, and is now on the road to beat the league’s long-standing record for most goals scored by a single player in a championship match since 1997!!” And the crowd roars even louder as you stare out at the field in awe.

YCU starts the kickoff following the prompt short chirp of the referee’s whistle, and with two minutes remaining on the clock for the first half, make desperate attempts to book it down the field towards their attacking goal, one of their midfielders making a clumsy attempt to strike the ball to the net in the final minutes of the half, and Choso easily catches it in his arms, right before the buzzer of the timer sounds, and the match moves into halftime. 

All of UTokyo’s players immediately flock towards Gojo in sportful glee, finally having a chance to surround him and harass him with harsh pats on his back and ruffles of his hair for his play in the first half. Choso even puts him in a headlock because they all don’t know what else to do with their excitement and adrenaline rushing through their bodies. Their win for today was basically confirmed with the way he was playing. 

You catch a glimpse of him through the crowd of people, and he has a boyish grin on his face, reveling in the embarrassing amount of attention from his teammates, that focused look from before dissolving into his normal self again. But you can see through him, as well enough as you’ve learned to at least, and you can tell he’s not satisfied. He’s thinking it’s not enough. There’s still more to be done, and it’s not time to celebrate yet. 

His eyes scan down the sideline until they find you. 

Your heart jumps a second in your chest. He stands up straighter, despite his teammates still clinging to him, and there’s a twinkle in his eyes when your eyes meet. 

Cheerleaders take their place out onto the field, performing their numbers with loud music blaring, and the recruiters seated at their white tables get up to roam across the sidelines in discussion with referees and with Coach Yaga and with whatever players they can sink their greedy teeth into, as well as sneak at refreshments while they’re at it. You can see off to the right that Hana has reunited with Minato and she’s showing him some of the shots she took over at the opponent's side. 

UTokyo’s players start to make their way to the benches to grab for towels and drinks of water and to sprawl across in rest, and you hear loud familiar laughter approaching as you watch the players sprawl across the benches, so you avert your eyes towards the source of the sound. 

You see Gojo approaching the benches, two of his teammates slung with their arms around him in some type of adrenaline-drunken glee as they talk dramatically and theatrically which Gojo entertains with his own drunk-off-of-adrenaline glee. And you raise an eyebrow at his demeanor when he makes eye contact with you.

“There’s my freaky little photographer,” he says, and he’s standing up straight and—wait, is he puffing his chest out as he makes his way towards you? Oh for fucks sake.

Gojo has always been confident around you, for as long as you can remember, but in the fair few moments he’s been cocky, he’s been a menace. And you can only assume the testosterone-induced high of being on the verge of breaking a league record in front of the entire school then subsequently getting homiesexually praised by his teammates for the better part of the past five minutes, not to mention with the crowd and the reporters feeding his ego with a spoon across the speakers, he’s been transformed into the final boss of cocky.

His teammates surround you too, their hands on their hips as they assess you and Gojo when he meanders right up to you, arms held out to hug you, a sleazy sight you’ve seen probably six times this week, and you feel a rush of warmth in your cheeks as you place a hand on his chest to keep him away.

“You’re sweaty and gross, please stay away from me,” you reprimand him, “this is an expensive lens that is not humidity-proof.” 

“Hey, you’re the girl that Kentaro socked in the face with a ball the other day at practice, right?” one of his teammates asks, leaning in towards you to take a closer look at your face.

“Oh yeahhh, ‘cause Satoru wasn’t paying attention,” another one of his teammates chimes in teasingly, hardly heard over the loud remix playing in the background as the cheerleaders continue to perform on the field. 

You shrink a little from where you stand. Gojo’s got an irritated look on his face and he’s shrugging his teammate’s elbow off of his shoulder.

“I really hope you’re getting my good angles,” his teammate to the left comments before winking at you, and you purse your lips together. 

The one on the right leans in too, looking at your cheek with an assessing look in his eye. “At least it didn’t leave a scar on your cute face—”

Gojo shoves the both of them back and away from you by elbowing them in the chest, and they make deep eugh noises before stepping away and rubbing at their sternums with pouts on their faces.

“Get the fuck away from her,” he grumbles, “she’s mine.”

Your cheeks flush slightly with warmth at the attention, and you watch as his teammates scurry away to adhere to some social hierarchy Gojo seems to possess over them.

You raise an eyebrow at him. “Yours?”

“Yes. Eventually. Whatever, did you see me out there?” he turns his torso towards the field and points behind himself with his thumb, “when I—”

“Oh god, you know what’s soooooooooo super sexy to me?” you interrupt him. “When guys are humble.”

“Oh c’monnn,” he curls his arm around your waist and pulls you to him, to where you stumble a little on grass and he holds you when you fall into him with more clumsiness than grace. “Tell me you aren’t at least impressed by me.”

You pout, because you are, and you’d really like to give him some reassurance and validation, but for some reason his cocky attitude is setting you off. “Satoru,” you sigh, wiggling a little in his hug, but he holds you tighter, “I’m working right now. Cut it out.”

He lets go of you at that, sober enough from the adrenaline to realize you’re being serious, but he steps into your space so only you can hear him. “What? Are you embarrassed?”

“Of what?” Your face twists with confusion.

“Of me. Are you embarrassed of me?” he asks.

“No. Why would I be embarrassed of you?” you ask with sharpness.

“I don’t know, just, sometimes I feel like you’re always annoyed by me,” he says with a sigh. “It’s like, you’re really sweet sometimes, and then kinda rude out of nowhere, and it’s sort of messing with my head.”

You pout. “You were messing with my head for weeks.”

“And I’m sorry about that,” he quickly interjects, like he already knew you were brewing up that counterargument, “but you don’t have to act like you’re all disinterested and indifferent just to get back at me for it.” He places his hands on his hips and wipes his temple on the round part of his shoulder when he feels a drop of sweat trickle down from his hairline. “You don’t have to act embarrassed around me either.”

“I’m not embarrassed,” you deny, and your cheeks feel hot, and for some reason you feel angry. “In fact, I’m the one that should be asking you that question. Because I still very clearly remember that time you said I was just someone you know in front of your friends.”

He groans and tilts his head back with frustration. “Can you just let that go? Things have changed between us since then. Move on.” 

“You kissed me and then pretended I was just a stranger to you in front of your friends,” you grit as you cross your arms. “That’s the level of sincerity that I know from you, Satoru.”

“Oh, okay, so there’s nothing else I’ve done that shows you that I’m serious about you?” he asks rhetorically with incredulity, throwing his hands up in the air in disbelief.

No. That’s not true, not true at all. But he’s pissed you off now and so all logic was to the wind. “Doesn’t matter. If you’re not embarassed of me, and if you’re really serious about me this time, then fucking prove it.” You’re speaking out of spite, and you fear you’ve just set him off too.

“Fine,” he says, and he grabs the microphone straight out from a passing reporter’s hand, replacing it with a gatorade bottle. The reporter stares at the bottle he’s now holding with confusion. “I will.”

“W-Wait—” you squeak out, feeling the hair at the back of your neck bristle in anticipation and a shiver gets sent down your spine. The cheerleaders are making their way off the field at the end of their routine, and you can hear the thumps across the loud boisterous speakers when Gojo whacks his palm to the microphone to make sure the thing was on before he jogs to the center of the field.

The crowd is already cheering, ecstatic to see the afternoon's star player and pride & joy of their school, and Gojo takes a moment to soak in all the glory in comical appreciation with bowing towards all 360 degree angles of the stadium.

“Uhhh,” you hear Choso from beside you, who’s strapping his thick goalie gloves tightly to his wrists, “Why the fuck does Satoru have a microphone while standing in the middle of the field.”

“It can’t be for any publicly decent reason,” Geto muses.

All you can do is watch.

“Hi, uh,” Gojo starts, static blaring slightly across the speakers and the crowd winces with him, “sorry. I’m Satoru, Gojo Satoru, you might know me from—uh, the game you’ve been watching?”

Cheers all around, because as if a single person wouldn’t know who he is. The stands were rowdy and most definitely drunk off of sidestep beers the stadium has been serving all afternoon long. 

Gojo is about to continue speaking, when he catches sight of the table of recruiters in the corner of his eye and he turns to face them out of respect. “Oh, yeah, uh, number 10,” he tugs his jersey up at the shoulder to stretch out the fabric, the 1 and the 0 flattened in view, “division player ID 233-997. Coach Yaga keeps my business cards in his purse if you want one.”

“SAAAAATTOOORRUUUU!!!!!” you hear Coach Yaga yell from somewhere in the distance.

“Anywho,” Gojo continues, and the music dims slightly, so he glances at the stop clock on the screen, which shows him he’s got roughly five minutes left to pull off whatever idiocracy he had in mind before the second half of the game starts. “Just here to say that there’s this girl I really like.”

The crowd gets louder, almost deafening, and sonically mostly feminine in (delusional) hope he’s gonna name call one of them.

Gojo’s voice is crisp and clear through the speakers as he clarifies. “She’s standing over there,” he says as he nonchalantly points to your exact latitude and longitudinal direction, “with the big camera slung around her neck that looks like it could pull her down to the center of the earth. Yeah. She’s super cute and I really like talking to her.”

“Uh-oh,” Geto murmurs from beside you, and you glance at him to try to get a read on the situation but you can’t.

Gojo starts to pace across the center of the field now, like he’s working the crowd. “But get this—she thinks I’m not fuckin’ serious about her!!!”

The crowd groans with him in unison. Yep, most certainly drunk. Or high off of glee. Either way, he’s playing them like a violin.

“Huh?” Gojo’s voice sounds distant now, away from the mic, and you can see on the large pixelated screen that he’s being interrupted by someone that looks like one of the videographers, “oh, what’s that? This is being broadcasted? Uh-huh. Oh. I’m not allowed to cuss? Oh fuck, okay. Er— shit, okay. Wait—shoot, okay.”

Choso’s smirk is heard from beside you, and you catch Geto and Nanami shaking their heads in your periphery.

“LIKE I SAID,” Gojo continues into the mic, “the girl I like thinks I’m just messing around, so. Uh. To show her that I’m serious about her, I’m gonna…” He looks up at the sky to ponder, and you can hear people shouting all sorts of suggestions of nonsense from the crowd. And instead of saying proclaim my undying affection for her through a romantic soliloquy straight from my heart in the presence of the entire school, he says—“I’m gonna strip. Yes. Down to my tighty whities, Imma strip.”

H–

Huh?!?!?

You don’t even have time to be horrified or scared, you’re just bewildered beyond belief that that’s what he came up with.

What the fuck kind of reassurance did you ask for. And what the fuck kind of reassurance were you about to get?

The crowd goes wild, it’s no surprise to say everyone and their mothers wants to see him naked, even the straight dudes would dig it for the gym inspo. And he points straight to you, sleazy look on his face and you’re going to ignore the fact that he just winked at you too as he crosses his arms to hold the hem of his jersey and pulls it up over his head in the most raunchy and slutty way a man can take his shirt off.

The music manager is quick with the bit, and is most definitely a fellow Gen Z college student, because Justin Timberlake’s SexyBack (ft. Timbaland) starts playing across the speakers and the crowd goes ballistic.

“Ayo why’s Satoru Magic Mike’ing the field right now?” one of his other teammates calls out through a mouthful of protein bar, “What the fuck did I miss?”

The cameraman does God’s work in a hella zoom-in of Gojo’s sweat glistened abs, then pans up the naked expanse of the perfect taut skin across his chest, and you can’t help but stare even among all your horror. It’s like when a male bird embarrasses the fuck outta himself to attract a female bird sitting on a perch, except instead of within the context of a NatGeo documentary, this was your real life. Everyone wants him, but he’s making a fool out of himself for you. 

He pretends to stretch his arms up into the air, a cover-up to flex his biceps, and then he kicks his cleats off, and the socks come off too. Entirely unnecessary, as showing one's ankles is simply too slutty, but alas he’s a whore. And when his thumbs dip into the waistband of his shorts, and there’s anticipating screeching from the crowd, he finally gets chased by security. 

Except he’s an intercollegiate D1 athlete, why the fuck wouldn’t he be able to outrun a bunch of dudes in black?

The camerawork on him is phenomenal as he runs across the sidelines of the field, eliciting a wave down the bleachers. So good in fact that you’re pretty sure the camera man could shoot for the Olympic track and field, with the way the stadium’s got a clear sight of Gojo mouthing the lyrics Them other fuckers don’t know how to act from the song still blaring with satirical rage on his face as he makes a fool of the men chasing him around the perimeter of the field.

And then he does it, drops his shorts, discards them with a kick, and he’s down to his tighty whities as promised. Cameraman has got to be displaying some previously undiscovered level of talent as he zeroes in on a shot of said tighty whities, with Gojo’s—forgive me, I need to be crass—huge bulge prominent in Big Dick Energy fashion except his tighty whities have little red hearts in rows across the fabric so do with that duality what you will.

He’s outrun security with a steady grin on his face as he eats up the drunken crowd’s cheers and riots and roars and you feel like you’re the only sane person in this stadium, or maybe you’re just not used to the fanatics of a college sports crowd. You peep the men in black trailed all the way on the left side of the field where they abandoned their pursuit of Gojo.

He taps imaginary pockets at his thighs, very muscular thighs you take indulgence in noticing, as if he expected to find something there, and he looks around when he doesn’t. He shrugs and grabs the microphone of the next passing sports commentator he spots, and then he makes his way back to you.

His breathing is a little shallow, and he inhales deep to catch his breath. “Baby.” The crowd SCREAMS at the way he purrs the word into the mic. “Will you do me the honor,” he’s huffing and puffing, heard across blaring speakers, “of being my lawfully wedded girlfriend?” And then he holds the mic to your lips.

“W-Wha—” you stutter, and there’s chanting across the crowd with words that barely make sense until you finally realize they’ve started to yell say yes! say yes! say yes! “Oh my gosh, okay, yes, fine, now please, for the love of god, put some freaking clothes on!”

The crowd goes wild with cheerful glees, and Gojo shoots fists up in the air in celebration as he runs all the way towards the center of the field with high knees, and you’re gawking at the sight, before he falls backward onto the grass and makes delirious snow angels on the ground. You see Coach Yaga’s vein popping in his neck from pure agitation as he storms off towards the center of the field to knock some sense into Gojo, but you know that Coach Yaga can’t kick him out, because they still have a game to win. The perks of being the most valued player in the league is getting to act like an absolutely insane idiot because you know they still need you in the end to bring it home.

You glance to the right, seeing his teammates nodding slowly then getting back to wrapping athletic tape around ankles and stretching out shoulders, with immediate acceptance of his actions like it wasn’t even out of character for him to do. And you realize again that you don’t know Gojo as well as you think you do.

And then the halftime timer is up.

You see Gojo approach the benches in a quick jog, squeezing some water into his mouth with his green gatorade squirt bottle, and when your eyes flit up to the screens on all four entrances, you see that the cameramen are still all focused on him accompanied by the continued buzz of conversation among the crowd following his public spectacle. But he seems to already be past any semblance of embarrassment as he takes the attention with ease, before he glances up to make eye contact with you and then lightly jogs right up to you.

“Did that prove to you that I’m not embarrassed of you?” he asks you, cocking a brow with a smug look on his face as he gets all up in your personal space. 

“I don’t know, but I’m certainly thoroughly and expeditiously embarrassed of you now,” you say, cheeks feeling flush when he leans forward so he can make eye contact with you at eye level. “I’ll have to move to a different country.”

His grin is relaxed. “Yeah well you asked for it.”

“Maybe. But I underestimated what a lunatic you are.”

“You’re my girlfriend now, you’ve gotta get used to it.”

Your heart skips a beat in your chest. “Satoru–”

“Tomorrow,” he cuts you off, “Hinode pier. I’ll pick you up at six. It’s a date, so wear something cute. And preferably easy to take off.” And then he’s attentive to the chirp of the referee’s whistle in the air before jogging backwards towards the feel and eventually turns on his heel towards the field while you’re left with warm cheeks and a heart that felt like it was moving at a mile a minute.

The timer for the second half refreshes on the screen while you loosely hold your camera in your shaking hands. It occurs to you that you haven’t taken a single photo of him before the start of the kickoff, and so you bring the piece of consolidated metal up to your eyes, peering through the viewfinder and focusing it on the center of the field. And there he was. Your muse.

Gojo lets out a breath, which you can see even from here that it’s shaky and staggered with resistance, and he lifts his jersey up to swipe at the sweat trickling down his face as he eyes the ball underneath YCU’s player’s foot just prior to the start of the second half. There it was—that look again of pure focus. 

3-1, forty-five minutes on the clock. And the referee chirps the whistle to start the second half.

It’s immediately evident that YCU has returned to the field following halftime with renewed energy, pressing high down the flank relentlessly past UTokyo’s defense, so fast it was hard for anybody to even keep a steady eye on the ball with the fluidity of their passes. The persistence pays off in the fake double-pass that slips past Geto’s feet, a moment of hesitation in the broken flow of UTokyo’s defense, and one of YCU’s strikers has the perfect line of shot towards the goal before digging his foot under the ball and sending it flying towards the corner of the goal post, scoring themselves a goal within just the first five minutes of play.

3-2.

The pressure mounts at the next kickoff, and with about seven minutes of solid play, with back-and-forth passes, multiple attempts at both goal posts to no avail on either side, it was clear that exhaustion was bustling in the veins of all the players.

One of YCU’s offensive players seems to capitalize on this, jumping on a defensive lapse of a pass Nanami attempted to make towards Yuta, and the ball is swiftly stolen then raced back towards the goal post. Choso prepared himself at the line, light on his feet paired with a solid stance, but in a millisecond of a moment, YCU’s offense unexpectedly passes the ball to a player racing up the midfield, and the player chips the ball neatly into the exposed corner of the goal despite Choso’s attempt to lunge for it in mid air.

Equalized, 3-3 game, momentary shock across the players’ faces, and the crowd bustles with something that sounds less like glee and more life fear. YCU was prepared to live up to and hold onto their title as the league’s number one offense, and as Minato explained to you during your time working in this job, an offensive team isn’t good at scoring goals, but rather exceptional at breaking down the other team’s defense.

Your eyes zero in on Geto, who stands in the center of the field for kickoff, and he’s huffing and puffing. He's the lead of defense for the team, and you can only imagine the level of pressure he feels right now. He glances around to his players, over to Nanami who seemed to share the same level of exhaustion, and then he glances towards Gojo who stood in front of him off to the right. Except you notice that Gojo looks relaxed, albeit still exhausted, but there’s a composed expression on his face even in the moment of heightened stakes. With locked eyes, Geto nods at Gojo and raises two fingers up into the air to signal a play, of which Gojo seems to respond to by closing more distance between him and the goal post prior to the kickoff, positioning himself almost directly in front of it, to which YCU’s defense immediately begin to guard him in a tight radius. 

The kickoff begins, with Geto making a few passbacks with Nanami as they close distance towards the field before passing it off to UTokyo’s string of offense and then receding back to their defending goal. UTokyo continues to close distance, raising stakes for YCU as their defense begins to falter under pressure, and the ball gets passed to Gojo, who only keeps it in possession for less than three seconds before he passes it back to Yuuji, a risky decision to make in the second half of a semifinal match, but the first-year swiftly unleashes a powerful shot that rockets past YCU’s goalkeeper, up towards the corner, except–

It bounces off the metal of the goal post, shot off with projectile speed back towards the center of the field, but with razor-sharp reflexes, Gojo headbutts the ball in air, twists his torso and strikes the ball with his foot past a dumbfounded goalie who can’t even move an inch to guard the ball that he already knew was going to sink right into the goal, and that’s exactly what it does. 

The stadium erupts with the momentum.

4-3, UTokyo. 

It was a sweet moment, one you manage to capture on camera of Gojo running up to Yuuji and ruffling his hair in reassurance, despite the missed goal. Your heart feels warm in your chest, feeling your own sense of melancholy that this was one of the last times they’ll ever get to play together on a team. 

Your eyes widen when you glance at the scoreboard, realizing that he’s tied. Gojo is tied for the most goals scored during a championship match. There were less than three minutes left on the clock. UTokyo either preserves their lead, or they risk moving into overtime, which, judging by the exhaustion on the UTokyo players’ faces in the wake of YCU’s relentless offense this entire game, moving into overtime would be a hefty, hefty risk. 

YCU’s center forward takes his place in the center of the field, fire evident in his eyes as he glances across the field. YCU are light on their feet, channeling everything in their bodies into these last moments of the game as they prepare to start the kickoff. You glance across UTokyo’s players, and although they look spent, there was a resolute look to all of them. It wasn’t the time to give up or feel at ease even near the end of this grueling battle. Now was the time to play. 

The referee chirped his whistle, and the kickoff began.

YCU immediately presses hard, as all their other plays have been all game, in their desperation to score. You can already see UTokyo’s midfielders move sluggishly in comparison to YCU’s offense, a drag to their feet as YCU pushes past the first layer of defense towards their attacking goal. Geto takes an aggressive approach, making moves to steal the ball while Nanami and Yuta guarded both flanks, and there was a relentless pass-off happening that ate up more than a minute of the remaining time.

Nanami succeeds in stealing the ball, but immediately loses it under his feet by a YCU midfielder, who makes a broad pass down the sidelines to YCU’s star forward who then powerfully kicks the ball towards the unguarded area of their goal, a dangerous shot that was clear towards the crossbar and Choso makes a leap for it, high into the air, his glove brushing against the ball, the entire crowd holding their breath in anticipation–

And the ball lands in the net. 

4-4, tied game. With one minute and seventeen seconds left on the clock. 

There was no time wasted in getting back to center field. No time spent dwelling in the horrific roars of the crowd as they watch with anxiety and fear. No time spent to process or consider or signal any plays. Not even a single second used to catch breath. When there is this much at stake, an athlete thrives on momentum. 

To your surprise, Gojo isn’t the one that takes place at the center of the field to start the kickoff. Yuta stands there instead, and you notice his eyes are erratic as he surveys all corners of the field. 

The referee chirps his whistle. 

Yuta immediately passes it off to the side to UTokyo’s midfielder, who curls it towards their attacking goal with a swift pass to Ino, who closes distance towards the goal, but one of YCU’s defender slips in, undoing any progress they had made in their offense by stealing the ball and sending it back towards mid-field. Forty-three seconds. The crowd’s roars heightened as YCU continued to push forward, thirty yards now from scoring, and UTokyo’s defense was desperate to stop them but their momentum was cracking in the wake of their exhaustion. 

It was a moment you don’t think you could ever fully or truly recall, one that you wish you had focused all your energy and attention to so that you could commit it to memory for the rest of your life. The image of Gojo pushing all the way to ten yards before their defending goal, a place where no center forward should really be at in a game like this, but it was exactly what their defense needed. It was exactly what the team needed. It was exactly what the school needed. For the ball to be in his possession.

With twenty-two seconds left on the clock, he steals the ball from right under YCU’s offensive feet, and then charges towards the opposite side of the field. The crowd rises to their feet, thunderous roaring that overtook any and all senses, as Gojo weaves through forwards, center forwards, midfielders, and defenders, covering the entire span of the field in lightning time. Fifty yards, forty yards, thirty yards, twenty hards, ten yards–

In a moment you couldn’t believe, he digs his foot underneath the ball, and sends it flying out towards the goal. There was not even a margin of an inch in which it slipped past the goalie’s hands, past his head, and swiftly flew right into the net.

With three-two-one seconds, the match was over. 

5-4, UTokyo’s win.

The final whistle blew, and for a moment, there was silence. As if the world paused to catch its breath. Then, all at once, the crowd erupted with glee that shook the entire stadium at its core. Flags waving, scarves held high, toasts of beer held up to the sky, it was deafening, and it almost makes you want to cry. Thousands of voices shouting in unison, celebrating the hard-fought victory of their school’s team. A type of pride that was fostered, and well-deserved, and long-lived.

You quickly glance towards the field again, and see Gojo standing right at the same spot where he had kicked the last and final goal, staring towards the net. You can’t see the expression on his face, but it surprises you how still he is. Like a statue, staring at the goal with the ball tucked into its corner. The very epitome of what it means to succeed in this sport was right in front of him, and it seemed like he wanted to soak the visual in for as long as he could.

His trance is abruptly interrupted when his teammates swarm in, rushing over like a wave of pure adrenaline. They slap him on the back, ruffle his hair, shout his name, the sounds of gleeful disbelief mixed with exhausted sighs of relief swarming into the air. And Gojo finally melts away from the tension of the match and into the celebration as he weakly returns the embraces of his teammates while he catches his breath. 

“IT’S OFFICIAL!! IT’S OFFICIAL!! UTOKYO’S VERY OWN GOJO SATORU HAS OBLITERATED OSAKA UNIVERSITY’S RECORD FOR MOST GOALS SCORED BY A SINGLE PLAYER IN A CHAMPIONSHIP MATCH!!” 

The speakers are blaring the voices of the sports announcers, along with ambient music to match the intensity of the match that everyone had just witnessed. 

You should probably be doing your job. You know, take a picture of the huddle of players on the field as they bask in the glory of a close victory, but instead your feet start moving on their own. Like a magnet drawn to him, you make your way towards Gojo, only a slight hesitation in your step as you stop about ten feet away, suddenly unsure. But when he makes eye contact with you, all that fear melts away.

He hastily pats the backs of some of his teammates, acknowledging their praise at the center of the huddle before tightly squeezing past them to make his way over to you. Your heart is beating fast in your chest, feeling an almost overwhelming sense of pride in your school’s team, but more importantly, in him. What was the acceptable thing to do? Run to him, into his arms, and hug him while he twirls you around? Tackle him to the grassy ground? Kiss him like your life depended on it? You have no clue what the acceptable or sane or normal thing to do is. But he’s made his decision for you when he walks right up to you, his hands holding your waist as he pulls you towards him. He smells earthy, of grass and salt and sweat and of all the hard work he poured into today, the wear and tear of the game evident in the wear and tear of his jersey. He only manages to huff out an exhale at the sight of you, like some relief washing over him just by looking into your eyes. Forget the fact that the crowd was all watching and that all of the screens you could see past his head were focused on the two of you, because all you could hear or see or think was him.

“I believe you owe me a kiss,” he says, huffing as he catches his breath but that doesn’t stop the smile that makes its way onto his face.

You nod your head, giving him your own version of a sweet smile as your arms slide up past his shoulders, crossing behind his neck, and he leans down to kiss you.

You hear a swell from the crowd, some teasing comments off in the distance from some of his teammates, you’re pretty sure you hear Coach Yaga yelling at him to get back to the benches, but it all melts away with the feeling of him smiling against your lips as he kisses you at the center of this stadium.

It was a moment so pure, so sweet, so picture perfect, and for once, you’re not the one behind the camera taking the photo. You’re the one that’s in it.

.

.

.

.

.

[end of kickoff ch12]

a/n. aaa thanks a lot for reading!! pls the fucking public stripping scene was so stupid i apologize on behalf of kickoff gojo for his behavior 😂😂 i’ll put him in his cage dw this chapter had some of what i consider to be the most challenging aspects of writing for me (internal conflict, grand public gesture, sports jargon) and so writing it felt like an uphill battle the ENTIRE time i wrote it and edited it. i considered scrapping it sooo many times cuz i just wasn't happy w it...but whatever i can't expect to be 100% happy w every chapter i put out there haha. i think kickoff has become a lil sacred for me since i've been working on it for a while now but likeee...sometimes u just gotta say fuck it we ball (tbh kickoff gojo probably says that to himself before a match) anywho, i am veryy thoroughly excited for what i've got planned for the chapters to follow, especially moving into the last angsty arc before the end of the series!! so i look forward to picking up momentum w this series again :0 honestly chapters 10 through 12 were the most difficult things i've written so far for a lot of reasons, but i have a feeling things will go more smoothly for me creatively going forward since what i've got planned falls well within my writing comfort range oh also there seems to be a little confusion about the number of chapters left, as i know i had originally said 12, but i anticipate that there will be about 18 chapters of kickoff total!! so still around six chapters left before the end :)) much lovee thanks for reading!!

OH WAIT ONE LAST NOTE I'M SORRY i didn’t really have a way of organically incorporating this into the story n i’m not sure if i’ll get a chance to in the upcoming chapters, so i just wanted to share this part of ch7 (gojo’s pov chapter) that is relevant to this chapter:

During the thrilling semifinal match between Keio Uni, Gojo’s father’s team, and Yokohama Uni during the end of his senior year, spectators witnessed a game that most college soccer enthusiasts would deem was a once-in-a-lifetime watch. Both teams engaged in relentless offense, and Gojo’s father was on his way to shatter the record of the most goals scored in a single championship match within the history of the league, but when he received a call from his wife during a timeout with the most life-altering news he could have ever heard, he abandoned everything on the field that day to go home and be with her. Grainy footage from the televised broadcast still exists online today—the moment he sprinted across the field, confused players glancing in his direction, amidst the uproar of the crowd. She called to let him know she was pregnant. 

the record that gojo broke in this chapter is the same record that his father almost broke before he got the call that he was going to be a dad :0 

➸ you're all caught up!

additional notes. please do not pressure me for updates or ask when i will next update (read rules); taglist is currently closed (consider subscribing to the story on my ao3 for email updates if you'd like! :0)

taglist:

@megumisdivinedogs @witchbybirth @avatarl0v3r @mwtsxri @asherheed

@wynney @delulux3 @higurumapet @zombriesworld @xenop0p

@phoenix-eclipses @who-can-touch-my-boob @mo0nforme @reagan707 @lost-resonance

@foulprincesscycle @luniunia @alekssashka7 @beabadobeee @thexmistress

@tsukikourito @pickuptruck01 @gabriiiiiiii @4y3sh4 @tiredflame132

@cliosunshine @btszn @izayas-rings @semra4 @ethereally-lyann

@drthymby @bbyxxm @fvsm4x @sadmonke @zoinks1010

@joemama-2 @horisdope @banenemilk @nanasukii28 @spindyl

@ri-sa20 @thexmistress @mwtsxri @ritsatoru @sashisuslover

@chwesuh-imnida @megumisthirdog @imjustaweirdnerd @angelicscribe

[taglist is closed]

[wikiangela]

fuck it friday

tagged by @tizniz @bidisasterbuckdiaz @honestlydarkprincess 💖💖

still on my bucktommy bs, I'll be back to buddie but i'm too obsessed with tommy/lou to think about anything else rn lol

so here's a bit of something short I'm wiriting for 7x05 from tommy's pov, idk what this is, what it's gonna be, but I wanna finish it tonight or maybe by the end of the weekend so posting it here to motivate myself and also tell me what y'all think bc the more i reread all of it the more i doubt myself lol

___

It took him some time, plus a lot of self-reflection and just taking it one step at a time, letting himself look at other men, this time consciously and sometimes deliberately, noticing how hot they are, how they make him feel. He let himself feel how they make him feel. It took a minute to stop feeling guilty and ashamed, and to rework all those internalized prejudices that had been ingrained in him his whole life.

He gave himself time, a lot of time, started with just chatting with guys on dating apps, later got the courage for some casual dates, and when he met the man who would be his first actual boyfriend, his first gay relationship, that he genuinely liked, he felt ready to pursue that. It didn’t work out then, that’s just life, but it was a good relationship, because he was ready for it. Now he feels settled and comfortable with himself, feels confident, and knows what he wants. And he wants- he wants love. He doesn’t want to put any pressure on any relationship he might start, but ultimately, that’s the goal. Love. 

He really doesn’t mind being this first to Evan. He likes Evan. He has those bright blue eyes that seem to shine their own light, and that wide, excited smile that makes it impossible not to smile back, with that adorable dimple accompanying it, that makes Tommy melt a little every time he sees it. Plus, those perfect, kissable lips he can’t wait to taste again, and the distinctive birthmark just adding to the charm. And he’s big and strong and so hot, too. And he’s just so nice, and so adorable and endearing, and he’s so easy to talk to. Tommy just wants to keep getting to know him, spend time with him, develop this relationship and see where it can go. And with any luck, maybe this one could last, could be something real.

The thing is, Tommy is ready for serious. He can take it slow, give Evan time to figure everything out, but he’d also like to know where he stands. He would never want to pressure him to come out before he’s ready, but he also knows he doesn’t want to be anyone’s dirty little secret. Been there, done that.

Still, he would be fine with keeping it just to him and Evan for now, for as long as Evan needs. But then…

___

no pressure tags: @elvensorceress @thebravebitch @shortsighted-owl @eddiebabygirldiaz @watchyourbuck @eowon @loserdiaz @evanbegins @ladydorian05 @wildlife4life @diazpatcher @lover-of-mine @monsterrae1 @thewolvesof1998 @neverevan @weewootruck @loveyouanyway @spagheddiediaz @rainbow-nerdss @epicbuddieficrecs @pirrusstuff @spotsandsocks @alliaskisthepossibilityoflove @nmcggg @rogerzsteven @giddyupbuck @sunshinediaz @underwater-ninja-13 @exhuastedpigeon @911-on-abc @jesuisici33 @steadfastsaturnsrings @theotherbuckley @buddieswhvre @dangerpronebuddie @diazsdimples @fortheloveofbuddie @hoodie-buck @your-catfish-friend @hippolotamus @daffi-990

[vtforpedro]

long life update - TWs in tags

It feels like it's been ages. I'm so exhausted and in a lot of physical pain. Going on two months of it being the worst it's been right after a couple of months of the best it's been. Chronic pain + grief + trying to get help from doctors who should have their licenses revoked + dealing with a shit relationship with my mom + a good, decades-long friendship ending + the ongoing disability process with the SSA + LAW FIRMS.

I'm so fucking tired. I don't remember if I updated that the appeals council decided not to review my case because the 'judge followed the law' except that he didn't. So, as it turns out, my original attorney (and he did not tell me this) before he left, wrote that if they denied me, it should go to federal district court.

I'm now working with a NY law firm to take my case to federal court because my current law firm believes it has merit, and I guess they do, too. That's how fucked the decision was, and I'm glad my initial reaction of bewilderment and anger was spot on lol

The good news is, it should only take another year! ._.

My neurologist is the worst doctor I have ever come across and I'm quite literally stuck with him with nowhere else to go. I wish him upon no one. I'm so tired of calling the SSA, getting documents to them, signing things for law firms, contacting law firms, getting no responses, and contacting them all over and over again. I am in incredible physical pain, like this actively makes my neuro stuff worse. Everything makes it worse. I have autonomic testing in a few days, and idk if I'll get through it b/c I have to stop the meds that keep me out of the ER two days prior, and it scares me.

My relationship with my mom is fractured and I don't feel like family therapy is actually helping. I had to end a friendship with someone I love and care very much about but who was growing too comfortable mistreating me and I was giving them too many passes 😞 I've known them for the better part of two decades.

It's been over seven months since my cat Isis died. I don't know how. It feels like she was here just yesterday. Yet, all the nights I've sat and talked to her and wept are all too real. I miss her more than I can say. She was my soul cat. I keep thinking about tomorrow and how she'd be so nosy getting into EVERYthing when gifts are opened at Christmas. Having to stop her, move her, laugh because she was just so n o s y and it was hilarious. And she's not gonna be here for that ever again.

I'm having a really fucking hard time tonight. It's just hitting me how god-awful this year has been and how I have a bad week to look forward to before even getting to the new year lmao I have to stop taking so many of my medications 48hrs before 1.5-2hrs of testing to see if we can find out Yet Another Thing Wrong With Me but knowing my luck it'll be 'no findings' and the mystery of why my core body temp plummets to 93.9 in the blink of an eye won't be solved until I have suffered juuuuust enough.

It never ends. Never. I want to give up. I'm so tired of doing this. I don't want to anymore. It never. fucking. ends.

I absolutely cannot say it's all been bad, though. I've met incredible, warm, welcoming, giving, kind people this year. Y'all have helped me more than you know and I'm so so so lucky to be able to call you my friends. This year has sucked for so many of us, but I want to say I'm proud of you, and I love you all very much.

My fic is gonna be printed in a hardcover zine early next year. I participated in a Big Bang for the first time and that'll also go out early next year. I'm hosting a tiny event in my tiny fandom server that I'm super excited about. I have a raffle prize to write (bagginshield !!!! SO EXCITED to revisit the og otp) and a Valentine's gift to write for another fandom.

I posted 401,000 words this year and wrote many more unfinished wips, plus a long one (90k) that I am very invested in finishing.

I painted and drew so much this year. I improved a lot, too! I got a couple of portraits printed from inprnt to see how they looked, and it was MY art, and they were GORGEOUS. I thought I would hate seeing my art professionally printed, but no! I almost cried. They looked so lovely.

My cat Lilly had health issues almost immediately following Isis's passing, but she is doing so well right now. She's blossomed into another cat, and while she's not my constant companion, she is with me so much more than she used to be. When she walks onto my desk I am to stop everything and hold her like baby in my arms until she decides that's enough (or I really need to move) lmaaao she's such a goober. My heart cat. <3

I'm not doing well right now--my MH is bad. Especially tonight. But it felt good to write the good things.

I'm sorry for my lack of replies and kinda disappearing. I'm running on fumes. I hope next year will bring physical relief so emotional relief can happen.

For those of you facing difficulties of any kind, I am holding your hand in spirit.

[elsaclack]

I wish you would write a fic in the Jake-can-feel-Amy’s-emotions universe that entails the warehouse raid and their first kiss that occurs after because I AM TRASH

HI THIS IS LIKE 8 MONTHS LATE BUT!!!! BETTER LATE THAN NEVER OR SOMETHING LIKE THAT

i did have something posted once upon a time in the original iteration of this universe butttttt i rewrote/repurposed parts of it to this, bc i like this one better but the first one had good bones

also this is a reference to two one-shots i posted a million years ago from a soulmate au i…developed? created? something like that lmao. you don’t necessarily have to have read either one of them but here they are just in case you want to: one and two

in the event that you don’t want to read them, the only thing you need to know is that in this au, soulmates can feel each other’s emotions. prior to their first kiss as soulmates, only one can feel the other - after the first kiss, they can both feel each other. so. in this setting, jake could feel amy, but amy couldn’t feel jake, and then they kissed, and now amy can feel jake. clear as mud :-)

So here’s the thing: it’s two o’clock in the morning, Jake’s smells like trash, and he’s about two-and-a-half minutes away from completely losing his mind. It should be noted, of course, that his teetering on the precipice of madness is entirely unrelated to the ungodly hour and his ungodly stench (though, to be fair, neither are helping) except by the furthest, narrowest of circumstances - that is to say, he could be fresh out of the shower at nine in the morning and still feel the tendrils of panic squeezing ever tighter round his heart.

So, here’s the thing: he’s panicking, and panicking some more, because for all of his feelings of panic stifling each inhale, Amy’s poorly-restrained anxiety rears up tenfold from the deepest dredges of his chest. It’s just his luck, he supposes, that his soulmate is such an anxious person by nature; normally it’s nothing he can’t handle, but with his current state of mind and his inherent inability to regulate his own emotions, Amy’s pretty much on her own.

Except that isn’t entirely true, is it, because here’s the thing: he’s panicking, and she can feel it. She can exactly how piss-poor he truly is at managing his panic, so it’s really no wonder that she’s panicking, because she always seems more panicky when he seems panicky and now she can feel exactly how panicky he is and god, who thought of this whole sharing-emotions-with-your-soulmate bullshit?

He didn’t ask for this, for the record. He was perfectly happy keeping their connection a secret and carrying it all the way to his grave, probably. Amy kissed him, not the other way around, thank you very much.

(He was probably going to tell her soon, anyways, because it’s been eating away at him like a virus and he’s pretty sure there’s science to prove that being around your soulmate without telling them they’re your soulmate for as long as he has been around Amy has physical side-effects in addition to being, like, a massive bummer.)

It seems wherever she is (somewhere in the back of the precinct in this very floor, he’s pretty sure, like either the evidence lockup or the bathroom or something) she’s at least partially aware of the effect her anxiety is having on Jake - he can feel her familiar attempts at tamping it all down, probably the result of her doing a breathing exercise he’s coached her through in the past. It works, if only a little; he can feel his own head clearing, his racing thoughts slowing, until the blurriness to his vision sharpens and he can hear himself breathe over the blood pounding in his ears.

He’s not even fully aware of his own thankfulness until he feels Amy’s bewilderment - and of course she’s bewildered, why wouldn’t she be bewildered at his thankfulness invading her mind like alien baby chest-bursters.

His newly-cleared vision lands on a slightly crumpled post-it taped to the bottom of his computer monitor - get a grip tonto, it tells him in Rosa’s scrawl - and he inhales deeply through his nose, letting the words reverberate around his skull. Get a grip, get a grip, get a grip.

It’s probably more of a reflection on him than it is on her that, despite his somewhat-diminished sense of world-ending panic, he can’t quite get the unevolved caveman part of his brain to stop replaying their first kiss. It’s not his fault - Amy Santiago is a good kisser, even under all the duress and pressure of an undercover mission seconds away from going sideways. She’s a good kisser when she’s sporting a gruesome black eye, a good kisser when she’s out of breath, a good kisser when she’s falling, a good kisser at the bottom of one of the nastiest dumpsters Jake’s ever had the misfortune of smelling in his life. Even if nothing else ever happens and he spends the rest of his life replaying this one memory on a loop, he’ll get it tattooed to his forehead:

Amy Santiago is a good, good kisser.

But, the fact still remains: he never asked for this.

He definitely hoped for this, but he never asked for it.

He kind of asked for it.

It’s not his fault.

It was a natural reaction - anyone who was in his place would have done the same thing, dammit! She’s his partner and she was in danger - and, okay, maybe the only reason he knew that in the moment was because he felt her sudden spike of shock and fear more than he heard knuckles connecting with flesh and her responding gasp of pain in the room he’d just crept out of. But the fact still stands - he would have gone and thrown that jerk off of any of his fellow detectives.

He would have gotten just as much savage, feral pleasure at punching that perp’s lights out. He would have yanked any of his fellow detectives into a bone-crushing hug. Just as Amy would have pulled any of the other detectives into a panic undercover kiss upon hearing their other perps coming back toward them at the commotion.

Right.

Amy Santiago is a good kisser, even when she’s unwittingly establishing their soulmate connection and feeling every last ounce of his emotion flood her nervous system for the very first time.

(He tries not to think about the fact that she’d gasped into his mouth or that she’d gone stiff as a board in his arms for all of one-second - tries to chalk it up to the sound of their perps storming in somewhere behind them and wolf-whistling at their display, too distracted by them to notice their companion out cold on the floor at their feet.)

And he really tries not to think about his stupid, fumbling attempts at leading them out the back door into the alley behind the warehouse before the perps caught on - about how he’d misjudged the distance, sending them both toppling over the edge of the loading dock and straight into the open dumpster below.

(And the weight of her settling over them even as they’d both grunted on impact - how she’d pulled back for a second, eyes blown wide, before leaning back in - how he’s still not sure if the desperation he’d seen in her eyes was case-related or them-related.)

It was messy, and stupid, and so completely and utterly them - and the fact that they managed to make all of their arrests gives him hope that someday, they might be able to laugh about this.

Of course, the fact that she did not speak one word directly to him and studiously avoided his gaze the whole way back to the precinct gives him severe anxiety.

It’s two-o’clock in the morning and his connection to Amy is a living, breathing entity - what was a soothing glimmer as delicate as spider’s silk glows bright an overwhelming now, rearing up and glittering like ocean waves beneath a setting sun. She’s everywhere, she’s everything, and he’s certain now that he won’t be able to live without her, and maybe that’s not the best thing to be thinking at two o’clock in the morning when he smells like a dumpster and there are half-finished arrest reports strewn about his desk, but it doesn’t matter.

Because the hailstorm of emotions originating from Amy suddenly taper off into a quiet and firm kind of resolution - and Jake’s stomach bottoms out at the feeling. He can’t tell around his own stupid anxiety if she’s happy or sad or angry or anything other than calm - it’s the exact opposite of the way he feels, only more so when his phone buzzes with a new text.

Will you please meet me in the evidence lockup?

She doesn’t have to ask if he’s still at the precinct, he notes with a certain amount of trepidation as he pockets his phone and slowly stands from his desk. She’s only felt his emotions for a matter of hours, now, and already she can read them well enough to deduce that he’s been paralyzed at his desk since they got back.

It would be comforting, if he wasn’t so freaked out.

She’s tucked toward the back of the evidence lockup when he slowly edges inside, leaned back against the shelves, arms crossed loosely over her chest. She straightens a little when the door squeaks on its hinges; he winces, both at the sound and at the fact that her face is entirely unreadable. She’s pulled her hair up into a low, loose bun in the time that has passed since he last saw her - a move he recognizes from her previous panic attacks, a half-conscious effort to allow cool air to touch the back of her neck. He forces himself to keep moving toward her for as long as he can stand it - all in, he stops about five feet short from where she’s standing, hands jammed so deep in his pockets he’s at risk of ripping holes through the seams.

Amy stares at him for a long moment, the only sound in the room the quiet mechanical whir of the precinct’s computer servers against the wall to his left. He tries to hold her gaze, really - it proves to be too much, the way the blinking server lights reflect off the molten brown chocolate of her irises, seconds away from piercing the very foundation of his soul. He focuses instead of her hands - on the way her fingers twist around her grandmother’s ring, knotting together in a way that reminds him of the knots in his own stomach. He inhales through his nose, holds it for a beat, and slowly releases it through barely-parted lips.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Her voice is soft, curious; not an ounce of accusation colors her words. His heart leaps unbidden at the sound of her voice and her eyes practically double in circumference. “Jake, I…” she trails, her fingers pressing briefly over her heart. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

He rocks back on his heels, fighting his flight instinct urging him to shrug. “I don’t, um…I just, I didn’t want you to, y’know, feel…obligated.”

Her swell of affection is undeniable; he peers up at her through his lashes to find her gaze soft and a little bit sad.

Boldness sweeps through him.

“I mean, you were right about all of this - the choice part of it, I mean. I knew you were my soulmate the day I met you, but -”

He’s nearly knocked breathless at the sudden punch of disbelief from Amy. “Eight years?” she whispers, and he bites the inside of his cheek. “You’ve known for eight years?”

“Uh-huh,” he curls his fingers inside his pockets, twisting the fabric of his jacket between his nails. “I mean, it was rough at first - we weren’t exactly best friends, remember? And I thought I was wrong for a while, too, but I - I wasn’t. And, I dunno, I was starting to come around to the idea of telling you about it when -”

He stops, drops his chin, stares at the fraying seams of his sneakers. “When, what?” Amy prompts him after a moment.

“You were right that morning in the break room,” he says quietly. “When you were talking about, uh, the nature of free will. I didn’t realize how important it was to me until after we talked, but -”

“The morning my brother found his soulmate,” she interrupts suddenly, understanding washing through her. “Oh, Jake,” she says softly, “I was such an ass about it -”

“No, you were right,” he insists. “I had never really thought about it that way. It made me rethink a lot of things, actually. I realized I had been planning my whole life around - well, around you. But I didn’t even know you. It’s like you said, some cosmic force just decided that that’s how things were gonna be for me, and I never questioned it. But after we talked that morning, I realized that I wanted to want this. I wanted to want you. Not because someone else said I should, but because I chose to. And I - I wanted you to, uh, choose me. So…” he sucks in a deep breath, and Amy’s chin ticks up a degree. “You don’t have any obligation to me, Ames.” he says, pleasantly surprised to find his voice unwavering. “If this isn’t what you want, I…I get it. Really.” He tries to ignore the sharp ache in his chest as the words leave his lips, but based on the way her face crumbles he’s certain he’s done a terrible job. “Okay, eventually. I’ll get it eventually.” A half-smile quirks the corner of her mouth upward, and he feels himself steadying. “But if…if this is something you want…I’m yours. I want you. I choose you.”

It’s strange - up until now, he thought he’d felt every single one of Amy Santiago’s emotions. This one - this swelling, morphing mass of something - is entirely new to him, though. It’s bubbling up and folding in on itself, growing faster than he can comprehend, intensifying tenfold with each slow, tentative step Amy takes closer to him, and now her molten gaze has him pinned in place all the moisture in his mouth evaporating in an instant -

Her hands are warm and steady where they brush against his jaw and curl around the back of his neck, firm when they tug him down two inches, soft where they gently skate up into his hair. Her lips are pliant against his, coaxing and inviting, moving with him in perfect synchronization.

Amy Santiago is an excellent kisser.

But above everything else, Jake feels radiant acceptance swelling like a warm hug around his tripping heart. She wants him, too, it’s in her hands and her lips and her steady, steady heartbeat. He all but melts against her, releasing an involuntary hum as the tension leaks from his joints and his hands slide up the gentle slope of her spine. She lets out a little hum of her own when his fingers spread and flex over the space between her shoulder blades, and he tucks the sound away, fully intent on figuring out exactly how to make her do it again.

She pulls away first, pressing a hand to the side of his face when he momentarily strains to follow, and for a long moment they stand foreheads flush together, trying to catch their breaths. Her left arm flexes where it’s wrapped around his neck and he slowly curls his fingers around the curve of her waist, smiling at her quiet, breathless laugh.

“You really meant that, didn’t you?” she whispers.

He swallows thickly, reveling in the warmth of her skin seeping through his shirt, ignoring the now-distant ache in his chest at the thought of her not wanting this. “Yeah,” he breathes, and it’s the strangest thing - it’s like his conviction is echoing back to him.

She pulls away to look him in the eye, though her grip around his neck never falters; he bites back a smile at the feeling of her fingers curling into the material of his hoodie. “This is - it’s - a lot,” she mumbles, eyes briefly squeezing shut. “Like, a lot to process - is it usually this intense?”

“Never,” he says quickly. “I mean, like, sometimes if emotions were running high - like if you were really pissed off about something, or, like, having a panic attack - but that was before you could - I mean, that was when it was just me. I don’t - I don’t really know what happens now.”

She nods slowly, eyes darting down to his lips for the barest second before meeting his gaze again. “I…really want to find out,” she whispers.

It takes all of one nanosecond before the joy comes blazing in - a tsunami of it, all-encompassing and all-consuming. He yanks her back to him sharply, her responding laughter little more than a muffled buzz against his lips and a pleasant simmer in his belly. Fear and dread and panic are nothing more than distant memories now, and through it all Jake finds himself wondering why on earth he didn’t do this sooner.

“Jake -” he cuts her off with another kiss, earning yet another muffled laugh, pressing against her over and over again until he’s effectively smothering her. “Jake - Jake, let’s - Jake!”

He’s laughing when he pulls away, biting his lip, reaching up to touch the tendrils of hair fallen from her bun. “Sorry,” he mumbles, not sorry at all, “I’ve just been waiting for a really long time to do that -”

“I’m not saying we have to stop,” she says, “just - let’s go somewhere, anywhere else. I don’t even care where, just - together.”

“I smell like a dumpster, so -”

“Me too.”

“- shower? And then somewhere? I can pick you up at your apartment -”

“Or we could just…both go somewhere that has a shower.”

There’s mischief in her eyes and excitement in her veins and he can’t tamp down the grin on his face if he tried. “I think I know a place,” he says pseudo-thoughtfully, and this time it’s Amy pressing her lips to his to smother his laughter.

“Let’s go together,” she says when she pulls away too soon. “We can come back for the other car tomorrow, but let’s go together.”

“Yeah,” he says, an absurd hitch in his voice. “Together.”

She steps back and the loss of her heat against him is jarring until her fingers lace through his and gently squeeze; her affection and adoration is an undeniable hearth in his heart glowing in her eyes. “Together,” she whispers, chin briefly touching his shoulder.

There’s an urge somewhere deep to tack something stupid like ‘forever’ on the end, but he ignores it in favor of a broad, blinding grin.

(That hearth has grown to a wildfire still raging by morning, when he emerges from his bedroom dazed from sleep and everything else to find Amy padding around his kitchen, hair tousled, grin soft with the same affection he feels in her stuttering heart.)

[heartkyeom]

svt as love island contestants

warnings: slightly suggestive but nothing crazy notes: this is very self indulgent and dumb, inspired by me and @husbandhoshi chatting about love island the other night! wrote this while tipsy but that's really the true spirit of love island so who cares lmao also reader is a contestant in love island too. quick info about the show: a UK show (the superior version) where guys + girls go into a villa on a tropical island, try to make successful couples and the public votes on the best couple to win $50k- new guys + girls come in periodically for the sake of drama, contestants are eliminated for lack of chemistry, boys or girls pick someone to be in a couple with at recoupling ceremonies, etc. etc. that's pretty much all you need to know for this

tag list: @husbandhoshi @mangogyu @lavenderautumnx @soffrine @dokyeomblr idk who else to tag this is so dumb lmao

seungcheol: literally THE most loyal. will not care who comes in once he creates a solid connection with you. typically caught on camera giving very lovesick glances at you and gets called out by the other contestants. once you both have a good date, he's rushing home to the other boys to gush about how pretty and cool you are because of course he is. he makes it extremely clear to everyone that he’s only interested in one person- he's probably attached to your hip most of the time. gives the producers great footage bc they catch y'all underneath the covers doing nsfw things/making out more often than not lmao

jeonghan: bringing the drama that everyone looks forward to. probably won't end up in a solid couple from the start because he's the one everyone is convinced will ditch his original couple for a new girl. and he probably will. ends up in couples with multiple girls throughout the show but he'll end up with you after denying his crush for ages. teasing you as always but makes you feel loved immediately, audience likes your playful dynamic and you'll probably make it to the end if he cares about the money

joshua: a major gentleman of course, will probably get to know each girl in the house equally before making up his mind about who he wants. 1/2 of the "makes breakfast for his favorite girl" crew, the rest of the house votes for you two to go to the hideaway because he is so clearly in love with you that you need alone time asap! spends the most time with you on the terrace that everybody calls it your couple spot, very lovey and sweet with you at all times. will definitely act up in the couple challenges though

junhui: completely clueless, probably will have lots of girls flirting with him and won't catch on. utilizes his sexiness when everyone least expects it, he performs well in the couples challenges. will eventually fall for you but he tries not to be too eager with it, you almost think he's not interested but then he chooses you in the recoupling ceremony and the rest is history. isn't worried about what other people think about you two, his personality is enough to sway you easily

soonyoung: he seems wild around the guys but the moment he's interested in you, he's SO shy. very charming though so most of the girls will be interested in him even when he lets them down gently. he's gonna do everything he can to not be swooned immediately but it's a lost cause once he meets you. does he get jealous when the other guys try to flirt with you... probably yeah! mostly because he wants to invest in the connection with you more than the other guys do, he really can't imagine being coupled with anyone else but you

wonwoo: honestly do not know why he'd be on this show, he wouldn't go anywhere near it lmao.. but he would be possessive over you once you meet and let the other guys know how he feels right off the bat. if the other guys try to play you behind his back ... well ... good luck to them! very protective of you but kind of course, doesn't mind if you explore other connections but you can't find anyone better than him. probably not interested in the day to day banter of the guys, mostly concerned about how you're feeling

jihoon: also do not see him being on this show lol but I think you'd catch his eye right around the middle of the show. not wanting to fall too hard and fast for the first group of girls, so he's probably ending up in couples he doesn't want to be in... probably in the bottom 3 for not having good chemistry but willing to stick it out once he meets you. audience probably thinks he's not meant to find anyone but roots for you both now that there's clear romantic energy with you two

seokmin: don't dare him to avoid falling in love with the first girl he sees because he's losing lmao... the girls love him because he's super sweet and he's typically top in the audience vote for couples. your bond with him is very strong so everybody knows he's off limits for flirting, he somehow blushes every time he sees you! most likely making it to the end because everyone loves you both as a couple, he's just so enamored with you and he's unfazed by the new girls completely

mingyu: this man is a flirty little aries and will absolutely not tie himself down to someone early on. but once he figures out who he wants, he's true househusband material. the other half of the "makes breakfast for his favorite girl" crew, will absolutely not stray from you whatsoever once you're a couple. the new girls will try to sway him so badly but it will not work. will pamper you with any and all resources given to him at the house. he will definitely make it to the end because the audience is obsessed with him, everyone wants to kiss him at least once

minghao: part 3 of I do not see him being on this show but! I think he has enough discipline to win the whole thing. I think the girls + audience would like him because he's nonchalant but knows exactly what he wants. everybody goes to him for advice on what to do in their connections since he's upfront with everyone, he doesn't lead anyone on because he knows he just wants you! very calm dynamic between the two of you, you match his energy well and the audience finds it refreshing- dresses the best for the house parties

seungkwan: you already know he's befriending all the girls to get the tea on their feelings about the boys! a natural entertainer, so everyone will like him because he's effortlessly funny. since you take a chance on him, you're lucky because he's willing to do anything for you! loves chatting with you so much that the boys will have to pull him away from you, somehow convinces everyone to get you both in the hideaway because he wants to show you his affection without everyone else around. gives the best confessionals hands down

vernon: veeeeeery lowkey about his crush for you, so much so that you don't think he's interested until he picks you at a recoupling ceremony. but after that, you can't focus on anyone but him. he just didn't want to get ahead of himself, but you push him out of his comfort zone to let loose on the show. probably not down to get to know the other girls once he's with you and they might think he's awkward because of it lol but he's just doing his best. he appreciates the private dates a lot so he can admire you even more

chan: he's cheekier than you'd expect. very respectful of course but once the couple challenges with sexual undertones happen... that man is a freak and it will be revealed! you probably come in with a small group toward the early part of the show and he quickly falls for you- the cameras will probably catch you both kissing more often than not because who are we kidding, he's irresistible. a charmer who knows how to pull you right when you're getting the most attention from other guys lol

[cherryhanji]

flowers don't tell, they show

bulleted scenario. stray kids (hyung line) x female reader

genre: florist/flower shop au, fluff (idk what else to put lol)

words: 1.6k

warning(s): none (a single curse word maybe?)

description: what if you received a flower from your own shop?

alexa's note:

so hello there my friends! stay at home this valentines'? (actually u don't need a boyfriend/girlfriend to celebrate valentines. love is not only for couples! it's for everyone! have u heard different types of love?) well, i just want to give my lovely bubs here the half of my cute lil valentines' gift. and i hope y'all like it! *kith kith* (maknae line will be posted tomorrow)

just a quick disclaimer:

so i really don't have that much knowledge about flowers and their specific meanings, i just googled them (sorry) so if i interpreted something that you think is wrong, pls tell me right away. thankies!

•••

BANG CHAN

• your cutie af neighbor who highkey endorses your shop to his fam and friends, in which you are so grateful of because it really helped your business a lot

• "your flower arrangements are so damN beautiful"

• always gives a cup of coffee every morning before you go to your shop

• "cheer up! florists like you are always appreciated. Don't be sulky, okay?"

• one time you went home really exhausted

• valentines' day is always the holiday that makes your business boom a lot

• only seeing a bouquet of flower sitting nicely on your doorstep

• realizing that the bouquet was the one you made a while ago, but didn't have the clue who the person who bought this from you.

• "I know it's very exhausting, since morning, I know you'll get exhausted, so I bought this for you, hoping that it will lift up your mood and put a smile on your face."

• "keep on smiling, it makes me smile too. - CHAN"

• he's right. Definitely right. Because as soon as you read his small note, that bright smile on your face never faded. all the stress from the shop was completely removed by this unexpected gift.

• "He's really a sunshine, as what they always say."

LEE KNOW/MINHO

• "flowers easily wilt and die soon, why are y'all spending your money with that?"

• "minho, if you just went here to mock my family's business, I am happy to tell you that you may now leave"

• "Fine fine. They're beautiful, okay? Like you"

• "oh shut up"

• Minho always annoy the shit out of you every weekends. And when you say weekends, it means Saturday and Sunday because you always help ypur parents manage your own family business which is a flower shop.

• Your mother loves planting, especially growing flowers. And as a daughter of a florist, you grew to love it. Which gives you knowledge about different kinds of flowers and their specific meaning.

• "being a florists' daughter, what's your favorite flower?"

• you smiled at his expected inquiry. your classmates already asked you the same question.

• Minho is your friend for quite a long time already, though you weren't surprised he asked this question, but what's surprising is he asked you about this just now.

• "I actually have lots of them. truthfully I love all kinds of flowers. But I have this one thing on my mind."

• he looks a bit interested, knowing Minho, he's not into flowers, telling you that he always catch allergies whenever he stays near them. Not having an idea why he always manage to go to your shop that is full of flowers and not getting allergies at all.

• "I really love this flower called goldenrod. Aside from its cute little yellow flower heads, I love it because of its symbolism."

• "it symbolizes encouragement and growth, and apparently this flower brings good luck to everyone. Isn't it cute?"

• "Kinda. You know, rose and sunflower are the only flowers I am really familiar of"

• You laugh at his adorable confession, he's right. Most of your customers, example of them are teenagers like you order roses as a gift for their special someone.

• Little did they know, there are different variations of flowers that can really interpret what they feel

• "I heard that Camellia symbolizes adoration, am I right?"

• you were shocked that Minho, a guy who only knows roses and sunflowers knew this.

• Camellia symbolizes adoration, some people give Camellia to tell how much they adore and like that certain person.

• "yeah, you're right. How'd you know that?"

• "Google, duh. Anyways, do you have a stock of Camellias today? If yes, can you please arrange me a bouquet of it?"

• As expected, Minho and his sassiness. But knowing that he'll purchase a camellia from your shop consoled you a bit.

• Giving you his payment, you immediately arranged the camellia bouquet, your favorite arrangement. Showcasing your talent in front of him

• Which you think is effective because you can see how attentive he was from your peripheral view, making you feel a bit awkward.

• But your mind came to abrupt stop after you gave him the bouquet.

• "w-why..?"

• "it's for you, idiot. Good job in arranging the bouquet, you received a pretty bouquet of camellia flowers.

• "the flower says it all. don't ask me why."

CHANGBIN

• "The most expensive bouquet of flowers you sell in your please."

• You frown at the way Changbin address his order to you.

• In your University, Changbin is that one "delinquent, rude-looking guy from your class".

• And your first encounter with him isn't that good. Leaving a bad impression of him to you. So you were kinda surprised to see him in your shop.

• Seeing Changbin, dressed in black leather jacket with lots of piercings hanging on his ears with a colorful bouquet of flowers from your shop in his hands? nah, that's strange for you.

• "are you really this good at arranging those flowers?"

• his "lowkey compliment" made your ears perked up. You and Changbin aren't really that close, given your bad first meeting with him.

• "Uh, y-yeah? Because I do this for a long time now. So I'm already used to it."

• Giving his order to him made your face a bit flushy, your hands accidentally brushed against each other.

• You just handed his order, but why do you feel something in your stomach?

• your eyebrows knitted when he gave back to you the flowers, hesitating to accept it.

• doesn't he like the arrangement?

• "w-why are you giving this--"

• "I'm sorry if I left a bad impression to you. I swear, I didn't mean to be rude to you. I am just totally pissed off that day. And I wished that the ground will just eat me alive when I knew you were one of my classmates in Ethics."

• Hearing him apologize for leaving a bad impression to you, made your heart sank. Maybe he's not that rude unlike what you think of him.

• "Are you really that sorry?"

• You didn't know why you asked that, maybe you just liked the way his sorry and remorseful tone is contrasting his physical appearance?

• "Yeah, I really am. I hope that you accept it. Maybe we can start off again? This time, I'll be nicer to you. I'll never be that rude guy from your class ever again."

• His last line made you giggle because he probably heard what you told your seatmate about him that day.

HYUNJIN

• The classic "high school hearththrob"

• Expected that most girls from your school gave him those plastic flowers, with diabetic filled boxes (aka sweets)

• "I really appreciate their admiration. But where do you think I'll store these plastic flowers? I am not even a fan of flowers."

• "plastic flowers last long. but it's plastic, it can destroy our nature. So, real flowers are still the real deal."

• "yeah, I know. That's why you're lowkey endorsing your flower shop. Yeah, they should buy authentic and fresh flowers from Y/N's flower shop."

• Hyunjin decided to walk with you, going to your shop after school, to help your parents sell and arrange flowers. Because for sure there are lots of people visiting your shop to buy flowers. Valentines' day, people.

• "Is it okay to stay here for a while? If you don't mind?"

• You just let him walk around, his eyes appreciating the beauty of each flowers displayed around the shop.

• The title "flower boy" just fits him perfectly.

• and the way he just picked up the single lavender rose was just as fascinating as him

• "this looks pretty and rare, what does this mean?"

• "you're right. lavender rose are the rare variety of roses, and it symbolizes love at first sight."

• the smile on hyunjin's face is so genuine, and you know that someone came up to his mind after you told him what the lavender rose symbolizes.

• "great. I'll buy this one, please."

• the enthusiasm in Hyunjin's voice tells you that your assumption was right. Who ever they are, they're so lucky.

• But you think you already have an idea who that person is.

• With a small folded paper, and a bar of chocolate, Hyunjin gave you the flower he bought and picked himself from your own flower shop.

• "Happy Valentines, I hope you like it."

• For sure the thumpings of your heart can be heard already because of its wild beating.

• "Good thing I found that rare flower for a girl like you."

•••

tagging my networks: (bcs sometimes it won't show up in the tags😤) @districtninewriters @inkidz @skzwriternet @stayhavens @0325-net

[bakutae]

ship yourself with your favourite character and give headcanons on how your relationship will go :)

-> tagged by @hanniejji

-> i tag @tamasoft and @k-atsukidayo y'all don't have to do it don't worry :)

author's note: okay, i know they're asking for a character but let's be real i can't choose between katsuki and shouto 😔

bakugou katsuki

would bring out the loud ass side of me ngl

chaotic energy 24/7

lowkey would have stupid arguments with me but we'll still be all good in the end

i'm a very clumsy person so he'll probably be so done with tending to me everyday lmao

like i had coffee powder in a cup and a bowl of porridge just now and the tupperware filled with sugar

instead of putting it into my coffee i poured it into my porridge and it tasted so bad

i'd imagine that bakugou would yell at me while already preparing freshly made food already cause his cooking skills are bomb

okay, i'd also pester him to make me beef randomly during my time of the month cause i crave beef cooked with a rosemary or two and butter you know?

oh man, i have serious mood swings on my time of the month so good luck to him 💀

he'll have to deal with me crying at anime in bed at three in the morning and that scene isn't even sad to begin with

he shouldn't be surprised if i wake him up at 4 in the morning and ask for coffee lmao

but other than my period, i'm pretty chill, it's just those few days

probably occasional to none pda, other than holding hands

i presume that he isn't a fan of it, and i'm too embarrassed to openly kiss in public, it's kinda weird to me

holding hands is a big yes to me though, it hits different, i'll probably make him hold hands with me in public lmao

ah yes, i'll also steal all his big white shirts and wear them around with some shorts, which will get him irritated

call me sadistic but i like making him irritated-

he'll probably be very mother-like towards me cause i am actually a mess (it sounds so weird but trust me, it makes sense)

aaahh cuddle sessions every night tooo

oh my gosh, cuddles + movie playing in the background on myflixer.com cause we ain't paying for netflix

dates with him would be kinda chill

i can't imagine going to the amusement park with him or anything, i feel like he'd be so stiff the entire day idk why HAHA

hm honestly, going to the arcade w him seems more appropriate?

not to toot my own horn but, i actually got a lot of jackpots the last time i went to an arcade

but we arent going to the toy arcades, those are a scam ):< you can never get anything from those ones

he'll probably get to irritated that he'll blow up the entire machine anyways, and then we'll have to pay for it so- just the ones to get tickets will do

arcade battles :)

whoever gets the least tickets gives the tickets to the winner and will pay for food afterwards

rather than a more emotionally connected relationship, it'll be a fun, casual but still serious one

todoroki shouto

very emotionally connected relationships

hey, we both have daddy issues!

compared to bakugou's carefree and more relaxed relationship, we'd have a lot of more quiet moments together where we're just in each other's embrace

secretly jealous boi

he'd lowkey be the ones who are quietly aggressive when someone else tries to hit on me(?) ok no one would hit on me but you get the point

the arm snakes around the waist and glares galore; when shouto glares at you, you'd lowkey be scared

when the guy's gone, he'd probably flash me a warm smile and pretend nothing happened lmao that sneaky bastard

okay, well if i was with shouto, what happens during my time of the month would most likely be completely different from bakugou's

i would probably be very clingy, with occasional cravings, but just way more emotional

like those where i can laugh and cry within a span of five minutes

at the beginning of our relationship, shouto would be very concerned, but afterwards, he'll probably not be anymore, after realising that it's normal 🤧

gentle boyfriend alert

he be those kind of guys that will take care of you really well during your period

blankets? check. cuddles? check. churros? check.

as for dates, i presume it'll be more romantic?

shouto is very serious about the relationship so he'll want to make every date special and meaningful

sometimes i'll be bored of restaurant and fancy dates i'll just drag him to the amusement park and have a full funday with him

ngl those dates be one of the best ones though, sorry shouto bb

wouldnt have a lot of arguments, but will have stupid ones with me

like he'll chide me for being too careless when i literally trip on nothing at all 💀

i also love to steal food from people so he'll be annoyed at me when i reach a hand out to steal his food, but he'll let me lmao

will have heart-to-heart conversations quite often, and will result in deeper bond and connection 🥺

when any of us are upset, one look is enough to know and we'll be ready to provide emotional support whenever

i'll also trace a finger over his scar when he's feeling down, and tell him how much i love him and just whisper sweet nothings

when enji issues come along, i'll be ready to fight him, i'm a very confrontational person when i need to be oops

no one can hurt my baby and get away with it

overall, i'll be very different when dating them. i adjust according to my s/o's personality, as strange as it is.

[thestuckylibrary]

Group Ask 129

What is a group ask?

Previous Group Asks

AO3 Search Tutorial

Please send us an ask stating which group ask and which person you are replying to. Thank you so much in advance!

Anon 1 said:

Hello, I've lost a fic I was reading. In it Bucky is an alien, I think. He is a boxer/fighter, he fights against other alien/enhanced creatures (there's one that's some kind of giant lizard). Steve is still Cap, and he falls for Bucky, and starts going to the gym and becomes Bucky's training partner. What else? Nat or Fury tell Steve about Krees and Skrulls. Bucky lives in the gym, has his few belongings in metal boxes. Sorry, I can't be more specific. Thank you in advance.

samanthahirr, partyhardwoohoo and capiturecs sent in The Boy With The Thorn In His Side by BetteNoire (WeAreWolves) (complete | 21,980 | E) - AO3 restricked

Anon 2 said:

So I've been looking for a fic that I read probably close to a year ago. It was post TWS and they were living in the tower. During the war they had written letters to each other using their initials for names (Baby for B.B. Sugar for S.G.R) and Sam and Steve are really close so at some point Bucky ends up asking Steve if Sam calls him sugar too. Sorry that it's super vague

mythgrrl said:

i feel like ive sent you a billion asks over the years! good news is i found a fic i know i had sent in asks for a few times (sorry), bad news is i lost another fic. it was steve/buky pwp in wakanda after CACW. it was bottom!steve and they had no lube so they bucky used spit. although it was their first time in the 21st century it was established relationship. i swear the summary was smth like "steve & bucky have a free night in wakanda, they spend it how you think they might"c

disgruntledturtles said:

Hi there! Do you know the fic set in pre-war, where Steve and Bucky are out of money so steve makes a racy film and Bucky ends up seeing it?

slutforasoldier said:

Hey! Super sorry but I'm looking for this fic where Steve and Bucky have a disabled daughter with like metal legs? And they adopt an abused native American boy, I can't remember much else sorry x

dragonflybeach sent in Finding Nina by MPantrochilles (complete | 53,344 | T)

Anon 3 said:

 ive been looking for this fic where sam and steve are on the typical "searching for bucky" roadtrip and one night they're in this shitty motel and buck just comes in through the window. i know it's not much to go on, but ive been looking for this fic forever now. please and thank you. i wish you the best of luck.

dragonflybeach sent in If They Haven't Learned Your Name by silentwalrus (complete | 237,623 | M)

Anon 4 said: (abuse)

Hey! I’ve been looking for this fix I read a long time ago. Bucky was raising his niece by himself. Steve was dating Brock rumlow, and rumlow was super abusive. Bucky meets Steve and notices somethings wrong so he tries to help Steve get out of the relationship. There’s also a touch of clintasha

legion-of-queer said:

okay, so maybe you wonderful people can help. Im looking for a babysitter bucky fic. he baby sists steves kids (bucky is a teen) they get into a relationship and nat is buckys sister? ive been looking everywhere for it and just really want to read it again!

Anon 5 said:

alright it's day three in the search for this fic and I'm getting desperate lol. Do y'all know the one where Bucky is kinda mean and cold as a kid until he meets Steve, and they have to touch to be comfortable in their own skin? Steve's mom says it's because they have a special bond but Bucky's mom is like, nah, ur weird. Thanks!

Anon sent in how we are hungry by liketheroad (oneshot | 18,366 | M)

Anon 6 said:

Hello! First, I would like to thank you for all the hard work you do! I'm sorry to bother, but I've looked everywhere for this story, and had no luck finding it. I remember that Bucky forgot about Steve (temporarily), but Steve still kept an eye on him. Then Sam calls him one day to let him know Bucky is missing, only to find him in his apartment (obviously angry). I highly appreciate your help. Also if there is any other story like it. Idk why, but I live for angsty Steve watching over Bucky.

Anon 7 said:

Hi! I searched on your kid!fic rec but didn’t found it so in this fic Steve has a kid and he go to a nursery at the Avengers tower and Bucky take care of him. I just don’t remember if it’s a captain America/modern Bucky Barnes or not 🤷🏽‍♀️

kittenkakt and Anon sent in Love You More by Loeily, Squeaky (oneshot | 36,477 | T)

Anon 8 said:

hi! i lost a fic and need your help :( ive searched on a bunch of your tags and also on ao3. i remember the avengers thought steve was inocent and stuff like that and steve, bucky, natasha and sam (or clint im not sure) go to a mission and bucky and steve have sex and think that no one hears them but when they are on their way back home natasha or sam make a comment about what they heard. i know this is very vague, but the fic was short and i read it a long time ago. thank you so much <3

therandomravenclw and Anon sent in Watch Your Mouth by Enalena (oneshot | 5,311 | E)

indelicateink said:

You guys have opened my eyes to SO many wonderful stories I wouldn't have found otherwise--thank you. I'm hoping you can help me re-find one I loved? Searched the library tags, AO3, my bookmarks; starting to think I'm crazy. Hope this is an easy one: AU in which Bucky is the lead singer of a band (other avengers are bandmates); Steve is a former member of the band (bass guitarist?) who quit under acrimonious circumstances. The story focuses on him temporarily rejoining to help them out on tour?

Anon 9 said:

Hi, I’m looking for a post-WS fic where Bucky and Steve are in the Tower, and Bucky starts learning to cook and making all these amazing meals but he tells Steve they’re all takeout, and somehow the rest of the avengers gang ends up helping him hide his awesome new cooking skills from Steve. I checked the chef tags and can’t find it in there.

capiturecs sent in Dream of Caramel: or, A Recipe for Disaster by gwyneth rhys (gwyneth) (oneshot | 17,037 | T)

Anon 10 said:

i can’t seem to find this kidfic i read once. one scene i specifically remember stevebuckys child ate something they (i think he?) were allergic to. real hurtcomfort