#lol it’s so funny to me that it’s all
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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
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☾·̩͙꙳ 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]
#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen fanfiction#gojo satoru#gojo x reader#gojo x reader smut#gojo x reader fluff#gojo x reader angst#gojo satoru smut#gojo satoru fluff#gojo satoru angst#jjk gojo#jjk fanfiction#smut#angst#fluff#geto suguru#nanami kento#choso kamo#college au#sports au#series#alternative universe#jjk series#long fic#jjk smut#romance#slow burn#kickoff#fanfiction#anime
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Camera Man and Mystery Girl
Pairing: Jude Bellingham x Norris!Reader
Warnings: Cursing, hate comments
Notes: I am the opposite of locked in
Requested: Yes/No
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littlenorris
liked by landonorris carlossainz55 and 111,888 others
littlenorris swimsuit season 🐠👙
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user1 so prettyyyy ☺️
user2 love
littlenorris no u 🫶
user3 my British queen
liked by littlenorris
landonorris put some clothes on lad
littlenorris ur not my dad
landonorris no but I’ll tell him to tell you
littlenorris he likes me better than you
landonorris :(
user4 omg wait is this lando’s sister 🤩
user5 yesss
user6 3 different vacations but she's serving in all of them 🙂↕️
liked by littlenorris
user7 we all know who took these photos…
user8 Mr camera man ofc 🙂↕️
user1 🤩🤩🤩
maxfewtrell what do I comment on this
littlenorris just press send on an emoji and move on
maxfewtrell ☀️
littlenorris thanks mate
user9 living the life
user10 photographer face reveal when
littlenorris not until he's trained
user10 is he a dog?? 😭
littlenorris acts like it 🤩
user10 lol and the fact he can't even defend himself 😭
liked by littlenorris
user11 she's legitimately fine asl I'm not kidding
user8 its the return of Mr camera man!!!!!
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littlenorris
liked by trentarnold66 alex_albon and 102,009 others
littlenorris dumplings 🥟💜
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user12 she's so pretty
liked by littlenorris
user13 I love that shade of purple
user15 the outfit and the rings matching the dumplings???
user16 do we think she did that on purpose???
user17 had to have!! Its too perfect 🙂↕️
user18 the difference between camera mans hand and y/n’s is so funny
liked by littlenorris
user19 just all the rings and nails and the sleeves vs one bracelet 😭
trentarnold66 🥟
likes by littlenorris
user20 camera man is Trent, dhmu 🫣
user21 that food looks so good 😭
user22 where'd you get your rings???
littlenorris camera man picked them out at a little thrift shop in London 💂♂️🌺
user23 they’re adorable
landonorris bring me leftovers
littlenorris I’m in Asia dumbass
landonorris I can wait 🤷♂️
user24 she looks so good 🫦
user24 BAEEEEEEE
liked by littlenorris
user25 loml fr fr
mclaren hey queen!
liked by littlenorris
carlossainz55 what is it the kids say? “Hey bestie”?
littlenorris hey bestie boo 🫦
carlossainz55 I feel slightly intimidated
littlenorris good, luv u 🫶
user26 HAWT 🫦
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judebellingham added to their story
landonorris
Is that my sister????
Where’d her hair go 🤨
judebellingham
Idk mate
It walked away
landonorris
I am going to kill you
judebellingham
Ily2 future brother-in-law
landonorris
Gross
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littlenorris
liked by landonorris maxfewtrell and 145,007 others
littlenorris blue 🫐
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user27 ATE
liked by littlenorris
user28 SHE LOOKS SO GOODDDDDD
user29 my favorite blueberry 🫐
liked by littlenorris
landonorris oh no… no no no no no no no no no
littlenorris kys, papaya boy
landonorris 😦
user30 my beautiful Smurf queen
liked by littlenorris
user31 who did ur hair bestie???
littlenorris camera man 🙂↕️
user32 guys… I love camera man and we’ve never even seen his face 🫣
littlenorris me too girl, dw
user33 never seen someone looks so good with a buzzcut
liked by littlenorris
landonorris keep those clippers to yourself from now on
littlenorris ur next, mullet boy
user34 did she dye her hair just to match the outfit???
user35 I’m gonna hold ur hand when I say this…
user35 she definitely matched her outfit to her hair… not the other way around…
user36 PRETTYYYYY
user37 it actually looks so good, I need camera mans tea fr
liked by littlenorris
oscarpiastri for the record, I think it looks nice
littlenorris thank you, new bsf
user38 queen shit
user39 with the short hair you can tell just how pretty she really is
liked by littlenorris
littlenorris I love you 🫶🥹
user40 hot girl shit
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TWITTER
INSTAGRAM
judebellingham
liked by trentarnold66 kylianmbappe and 12,000,999 others
judebellingham 304
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user41 he was in Miami during the Miami gp and we didn’t see him at the race??? lol????
user42 so sorry??? What is going on in slide two???
user43 it’s the soft-launch he’s been doing for months and months and months 😭
user43 he stopped doing it for a while in the time he was getting more popular but it seems mystery girl is back 🙂↕️
user44 my man my man my man
user45 he’s so fine I actually can’t
user46 why tf was this man not at the Miami gp I’m fuming
user47 he’s dodging these races like his life depends on it
user47 Trent should’ve dragged him to one by now
landonorris it was nice seeing you bro!
judebellingham it was hard to miss you with all that partying 😅
landonorris we’re a bit loud, I’ll give you that 😅
user48 Lando x Jude??? Wasn’t expecting that tbh
user49 slide three???? Fine asllll
user50 mystery girl??? lol??? Who tf is that? 🤨
trentarnold66 🔥
liked by judebellingham
user51 THAT SHOULD BE ME HOLDING YOUR HAND THAT SHOULD BE ME MAKING YOU LAUGH
user52 yeah good cover photo, thanks Jude
user53 now who tf 🤨
rodrygo yes man 👏
liked by judebellingham
user54 do any og Jude fans know who the girl is?
user55 no one has any idea 😭
user55 past glimpses say she might be brunette??? But we’ve also seen blonde???
user55 moral of the story is, no one knows like… at all…😔🤞
user56 my fav Barca player or wtvr
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judebellingham added to their story
user57
Now sir, who took this
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user58
OH MY GOD???
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user59
The return of mystery girl, we love
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user60
Bitch you think ur slick????
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landonorris
Let me tell you
this was the worst thing that could've popped up FIRST on my stories
I did NOT want to see this
judebellingham
Cope
landonorris
Bitch 😒
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TWITTER
INSTAGRAM
littlenorris added to their story
user61
Camera man is back 🙂↕️
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user62
Sincerely hope camera boy took this
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user63
Y u write like that
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judebellingham
I'm such a good photographer ofc 🙂↕️
littlenorris
Yes u r baby
Tysm 🙂↕️
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yourusername
📍Barcelona, Madrid
liked by landonorris oscarpiastri and 3,777,115 others
yourusername whats pottery in Spanish
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user64 ceramica 🙂↕️
liked by littlenorris
user65 the jump in likes from last post to this one is actually insane
user66 MY versace brand ambassador
user67 I don't understand how becoming a brand ambassador made her so much more popular???
user68 its a mix of that and dts and some of her photoshoots going viral on tiktol
user68 I also think some people are just now realizing Lando's even got a sister lol
user69 ily queen
user70 in Spain for what
user71 my bilingual icon
user72 girl why is she not responding to a single comment lmfao
user73 she's ghosting us 😭
user74 my new fav Norris
landonorris put ur ass away
liked by littlenorris
user75 not even Lando gets a response???😭 lol???😭
user76 I hate her
user76 overrated asf, just a nepo baby who's only talent is having a pretty face
user77 y'all rly scared her off I can't believe this
user78 usually someone would ask about Mr camera man and she would respond but I don't want to embarrass myself by asking and getting ignored lollll
user79 it girl
user80 but can we talk about the fit 🙂↕️🫣
user81 I miss my relatable indie model girlie 🥲
user82 no fr, I can't tell if a social media team got to her and took away her commenting privileges or if she's just been scared away by the amount of people 😔
user83 she doesn't deserve her fame
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judebellingham
liked by vinijr landonorris and 7,888,234 others
judebellingham calma
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user84 yassssssss bilingual king
user85 he's so fine 😭
user86 disappointed in the only picture of him being the first one
user87 every time I swiped I got sadder
vinijr ceramica?? 🪴
judebellingham im a man of many talents 🤞
user88 has Lando found his new bf
user89 for the record, that's Barcelona, not madrid
user90 I take it he's enjoying his summer then
landonorris my man 👊
liked by judebellingham
user91 lol’ing at a footballer having a peaceful summer break instead of partying in Ibiza or something
user92 Jude, Dortmund misses you
user93 where's mystery girl
user94 anyways, how have he and his gf not been papped a single time, I feel like they've been together for like 4 years or something like that
user95 they got together when he was still playing in England so like 5 years
user95 or at least that's when he first posted her/ the earliest his current Insta posts go back
user94 exactly like… ur telling me these 16 year olds were secret enough to not be photographs?? I don't believe you
user96 I believe it was some also-famous teenager who kept it a secret
user96 because why else would a teenager keep their relationship with a Birmingham player a secret
user97 I think maybe y'all think about Jude Bellingham too much
user98 anyway, I'm in so much love with him
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littlenorris added to their story
landonorris
I don't believe you
littlenorris
stfu lad
u can ask him
he lost by so much
landonorris
Yeah idk
He plays for real Madrid
He doesn't seem like the type to lose 🤷♂️
littlenorris
he watches you enough to be familiar with the concept by now
you fucking loser
landonorris
Hello?????
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TWITTER
INSTAGRAM
littlenorris added to their story
user99
Lol, Lando being up high somewhere and you being in the crowd is so funny to me idk why 😭
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user100
yassssss my humble queen mingling with the peasants 🌺❤️
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user101
Supporting ur country we love to see it 🙂↕️
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user102
Yeahh…
Viva la espana
Sorry queen
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TWITTER
INSTAGRAM
littlenorris added to their story
landonorris
Hope ur having fun in Ibiza bitch
Wish I could've been there but you chose a week where I have work
littlenorris
That was on purpose
Leave me and my bf alone
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user103
Wait we love Spain
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user104
Losing the euros to Spain and then immediately going there??? Lol??!!
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TWITTER
INSTAGRAM
littlenorris
📍Ibiza, Spain
liked by judebellingham landonorris and 12,888,009 others
littlenorris not a lot going on at the moment
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user105 girl gtfo of here the swifties don't claim you
user106 ugly bitch
user107 and that's why her hair looks like shit
user108 y'all r being so rude to this girl for no good reason
user109 idc I don't like her
user110 lol she's so lovely y'all need to stfu
user111 my beautiful beautiful queen
user112 Jude deserves better
user113 girl shut up, Jude ain't gonna fuck you
user114 trying to act like she didn't just get papped and posting like normal is actually crazyyyy
user115 and if she including him y'all would hate her all the same and try and say she was using him
user115 now what.
user116 I've met her like six times and she is the nicest person on the entire planet. Some of y'all need to get it together.
landonorris I love you
littlenorris I love you too
user117 they're both being nice to each other. Do y'all know how bad the situation has to be for them to be kind to the other?
user118 free my girl from the shackles of these crazy fan girls
user119 no literally, these ones are worse than the dts ones
user120 like she legit got attacked for “flirting” with Daniel at a race when all she did was stand near him 😭
user121 but then they were never seen together again, we lost 🥲✊
user122 both norris’s are washed
user123 fame fuckerrrrrr
user124 they've been together since they were 16 be so fr
user125 I can not stand any of you.
COMMENTS ON THIS POST HAVE BEEN RESTRICTED
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judebellingham
liked by littlenorris landonorris and 15,888,998 others
judebellingham for the past seven years, y/n has been my best friend and the love of my life. She has been by my side since day one and I would give anything to keep her there. She's been here through the ups and the downs, through the wins and the losses and not once has she faltered in her love and loyalty to me and our relationship. I don't think there's ever been a person I had more trust in that wasn't literally related to me. I love her with my entire being and I know I always will.
When we got together, y/n had already gotten a slight taste of what fame could bring with Lando’s involvement in racing. Because of this, we decided to keep our relationship to ourselves and away from the public opinion. It was never out attention to hide from anyone but, instead, to be able to love and have something without anyone trying to ruin it.
That being said, the hate y/n has been receiving these past few days is unacceptable. The only thing she has done is be in a relationship, a fact that has been known for as long as she has been a public figure. The only thing bringing this hate one is the knowledge that the person she loves is me. In case you need it, here is a reminder that you do not know us. You don't know our life or our relationship and this is the reason we were a “secret” for so many years. You can not call yourself a fan of mine if you are sending hate to the person I love most in the world.
And if you're someone who's hoping we break up, trust me, I fully intend on spending the rest of our lives together. So don't hold your breath.
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user126 CLOCK THOSE HATER-ASS BITCHES JUDEEEEE YASSSS
user127 oh he's so lovely
user128 🙂↕️🙂↕️🙂↕️
landonorris no one is rather have marry my sister
judebellingham is this me getting your blessing
landonorris mate you've had my blessing since you got drunk on your birthday and babbled about marrying her for like an hour
judebellingham you need to never tell that story again
landonorris too late 🤷♂️ its already in my best man speech
user129 “don't hold your breath” omg welcome back unfiltered footballers
user130 he ate that little one thing
user131 get yourself a man who defends you like this
user132 awww I'm in love with them
user133 oh to be jude bellinghams “best friend and the love of my life”
maxfewtrell hey, i know her
judebellingham she says she doesn't know you
maxfewtrell tell that lying bitch I'm coming for her
user134 I feel so bad for y/n
user135 I feel like Jude definitely recognized that he got zero hate for this
littlelando I love you 🌺💕😭
judebellingham 💕
user136 ok wait they're adorable
user137 AWWWWWW
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littlenorris added to their story
judebellingham
Yeah I am 🙂↕️
littlelando
I love you so much you dork
judebellingham
I love you too
Always and forever, don't even worry about it
littlelando
Trust me, i wasnt worried 💕
——
Tags:
@c-losur3 @llando4norris @lokideservesahug @casperlikej @evie-119 @awritingtree
#f1 fanfic#f1 x reader#f1 fic#f1 imagine#f1 x female reader#f1 x y/n#f1 x you#jude bellingham smau#jude bellingham x you#jude bellingham x fem!reader#jude bellingham x reader#football x you#football x y/n#football x reader#norris!reader
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outfit swaps ! that you can probably tell were drawn like a week apart. my art is nothing if not inconsistent lol
#danganronpa#danganronpa thh#kiyotaka ishimaru#mondo owada#chihiro fujisaki#chishimondo#ishimondo#chimondo#fanart#i do prefer how i drew chihiros face in the second one lol#in all fairness i had art block when i drew the first one so i wasn’t at my Best#idk why they’re both making fun of taka tbh i just thought it’d be silly funny#oh yeah my wrist is better now yaaay#it actually feels better than before i hurt it so i guess the break did me some good
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2024 September 23rd
Okay so. I kept seeing drawings of Siffrin in iconic Sonic the Hedgehog poses for some godforsaken reason? And like, I was a HUGE Sonic nerd as a teenager. Absolutely obsessed. You can't do this to me.
As soon as I thought, "Isabeau would fit Knuckles' poses," and "Mirabelle can be Amy Rose!" it was all over. I had to join the funny art trend.
I'd already seen drawings of the really iconic Sonic Adventure poses, so I decided to go with Sonic Advance 3 poses instead. They might not be as recognizable, but as someone who loved SA3, they're iconic to me. And I'm the artist here, the only people who matter are me and my inner child LMAO.
Pose references and more rambling under the cut
^ Character select pixel art from Sonic Advance 3.
I wanted to just go with the flow for this drawing and not worry about style or anatomy as much. No thoughts, head empty, only vibes. It turned into a really fun abomination of my casual art style, ISaT style, and decade-old Sonic-drawing muscle memory. I miss Siffrin's cloak fuzzies though, but Sonic art styles are just so smooth and clean and I couldn't find a way to get them to mesh well.
Time taken was 20 hours and 10 minutes, because I don't know how doodling works.
Isabeau took a fraction of the time Siffrin and especially Mira did. Amy's pose is not meant for human arms. I left behind a graveyard of failed hand poses. Meanwhile Siffrin was rough because of their friggin cloak making the pose hard to read, but I figured it out!
I'm still new to writing screen reader alt text, and I have no idea if I'm going overboard or not, lol. 291-word description essay GO!
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P!Yandere!Pines Family x GN!Teenager!Reader
[PLATONIC] a continuation to this! decided to just make them all yanderes cuz y not lol errmm just subtle ykwim... i'm not proofreading all this so just have my draft
warnings: staring, violence, alcoholics, abuse, blood, implied murder. woah intense
❤️🔥
"Then I saved Ford by slicing its eye! You should have seen it!"
You laughed, settling down from your dramatic gestures that you've been making throughout the entire dinner. The entire Pines family watched you in awe, especially Dipper and Mabel, easily captivated by your personality and story.
"Yes, well, they certainly saved my life," Ford chuckled as he fed himself a spoonful of food.
"You have to stop lettin' kids save your life so much," Stan scoffed.
Dipper grabbed a book out of nowhere, clicking his pen in preparation—
"No writing at the dinner table! We talked about this!" Stan called out, earning a sheepish smile from Dipper who immediately drops the book on the ground.
"But what did the monster look like?" Dipper stammered, eventually turning to you with a curious look on his face. He looked eager to learn more. That's what you can tell anyway, if you remove his reddened face, which is most likely from embarrassment.
Mabel, who sat across from you, leaned towards you with the biggest smile on her lips. You grinned back to return her energy. "Bet it was super gross! Was there a lot of blood?! Blaarrrgghhh!!!"
"No gross sounds at the table, pumpkin!" Even Stanley felt like he's tired of his own voice. This is him trying his best to not let you be uncomfortable. Well, he supposed you and his brother brought up the story in the first place.
Speaking of, why were you even here? Ford came back in the mystery shack after missing for a day, only to bring a random teen with him. It's a good thing he cooked extra since he thought Soos was coming over.
But he needed answers fast.
"Ford," Stan whispered firmly, catching his brother's attention. Tilting his head, he tried to signal him to move out, but someone interrupted them before they could do anything.
"Hey! No sneaking out the dinner table!" Mabel exclaimed, pointing a fork at her grunkles.
Stanley stood up and Ford followed his actions. They were already heading out the door with Stan holding his twin's wrist. "Well, sweetheart, VERY REASONABLE EXCUSE!"
As soon as they were out of sight, you and the other kids exchanged looks.
"He did say it's reasonable."
"Yeah, I can live with that."
... You snorted. "You guys are a funny bunch. He literally said the excuse, and you let him go just like that? You must trust each other a lot."
"You have no idea, stranger, you have no idea," Mabel laughed. "Sorry, what was your name again?"
💥
Meanwhile, deep inside the mystery shack, where they were sure there'd be no eavesdropping happening...
"You let the kid stay here without telling their parents?!"
Stanley was freaking out. Yet, he really shouldn't be surprised Ford would do this. Ironically, poindexter would even criticize his behavior, his grunkle methods! How ridiculous is this whole thing, huh?!
"It's more complicated than that! Look, I know this sounds bad—"
"It does!" Stan yelped, his hands clenching. "Their parents must be so worried! And we can't just let them—"
"No, no, Stanley, walk with me here," Ford said, placing his hands on his brother's shoulders. "It's their parents that are the problem."
A few deep breaths from Stan. Alright, okay. This is making more sense now.
"We'll take them to their house first thing in the morning," Ford explained. "Let's see what we'll do from there."
🔥
"I hope my drawing isn't too bad," you chuckled, giving the journal back to Dipper. His eyes skimmed over your illustration of the monster you killed. "It doesn't match yours and Mabel, but..."
"Are you kidding?! It's perfect! Thank you!" Dipper beamed, writing more notes down the rest of the page.
From above, Mabel had her legs folded over the ceiling wood of the house. You looked up and made eye contact, as much as you can anyway. She's upside down.
"Hi! How old are you again?"
How did she even get up there, you wonder. You glanced around, smiling when you realized, and worked your way up.
They stared at you in awe when you climbed right next to Mabel's side. Now you're hanging upside down too. "Cool tricks, Mabel. Hope you don't mind me copying you?"
She doesn't respond, starstrucked. Glancing at Dipper, his jaw was also on the floor.
"Uhhh," you awkwardly smiled, "But I just turned sixteen! You guys are turning thirteen, right?"
"You're the coolest," Mabel whispered, dragging a hand across your face. Okay. That's a bit weird, but it's welcome.
"Thanks," you grinned, manually removing her hand from your face. You looked down at Dipper again. "Hey, Dipper, what time is it?"
He scrambled around and grabbed a watch from somewhere. "Uh, nine o' clock."
"Nine?!" your sudden outburst caused you to fall to the carpet, a pained groan leaving your lips. At least you managed to drop skillfully. "Oh, that hurt."
"Are you okay?!" Dipper rushed to your side, offering a comforting hand on your back.
"Yeah, I just," you paused. "It's nine already? My parents are gonna kill me, man. I gotta go home."
"What!!"
Mabel also dropped down from her outburst, but her landing isn't painful as yours, because you caught her in time. She gazed at you from your arms, stars forming in her eyes.
"Woah. You have fast reflexes!" she squealed as you gently put her down.
Dipper shook his head. "But you can't go home this late at night. Didn't you say you're from outside of Gravity Falls?"
You crossed your arms, pondering. "Yeah, but... Okay, wait, where's Ford?"
Footsteps followed your words. All of you turned to the doorway, seeing the older set of Pines twins. It's kind of amazing, really, you rarely saw twins and this family has two pairs.
"Oh, there you are!" you grinned, walking over to him. Ford blinked at you. "I'm sorry, dude, but I think I overstayed my welcome. I'll go ahead and—"
"Eh, nah," Stanley chimed in, earning your attention, "It's too dark for ya to go out. Let's take you home tomorrow, yeah?"
"But-"
"No butts, they're for sitting," he continued, gently pushing you down on his recliner. You sat down, albeit confused. "Think of it as a sleepover. That's fun, right kids?"
Mabel skipped to your view, an eager grin on her face. "Yeah! We can paint your nails and everything!"
"While I'll show you more of the journals," Dipper beamed, showing one of them to you.
Their ideas were nice, it truly was, but the circumstances are concerning. You couldn't help the frown forming on your lips. They all noticed.
Ford stepped in between them, kneeling and offering you a smile. "Don't worry, kiddo. We'll take good care of you 'til morning. I'm sure your parents will understand."
"I guess I can't really do anything about it," you muttered, eventually accepting the situation. You stood up with a grin. "Okay! Who wants to be unaware of me stealing cool stuff here?!"
"I do!" Mabel screamed, only to pause. "Wait, what?"
"Yeah," Stan squinted, "What?"
You hummed, suddenly behind him, and stared at his wallet. Ford shook his head at you. "You have a very alarming number of IDs. Is this normal? Then again, you're old."
A laugh left Stan as he took his wallet from you. "Oh, I could use that type of skill. Didn't even hear or feel you take it!"
"I can teach you," you smiled.
"Please don't," Dipper groaned.
🌬️
"This journal is amazing! And Ford wrote this? Seriously, no wonder why he was so smart!"
You flipped the book page by page, your jaw dropped the whole time. Sure, a while ago, you saw one page, but only because Dipper told you to draw on it. You didn't expect a whole research surrounding Gravity Falls!
"Interesting enough for you to visit Gravity Falls more often?" Dipper chuckled as he watched you.
"Woah," you smiled, "You like my company that much, Dipper? Don't you have any friends here— oh shoot, wait, I didn't mean—"
A ghost of a frown spread through his face. Why did you have to ask that?! You were just projecting if you had to be honest, but still!!!
"Sorry, that was insensitive," you blurted, closing the book and focusing all your attention on him. "I only said that because I feel that way. I know, that's pretty lame."
He looked surprised. "Really? But you're so cool?"
"Some people think I'm weird is all. But thanks for finding me cool, Dip," you laughed, glancing at Mabel who was snoring. "I find you and your sister cool too. A lot, actually. So it's nice to know you both like me."
Dipper sniffed. "Man. Ditto."
You grabbed a blanket and placed it over Mabel's body, making sure she's covered head to toe. She snuggled up to it unconsciously.
"Welp, bed time," you murmured, reaching for another one. You stretched the blanket, letting Dipper be able to invite himself in. "Come on."
He happily accepted, nestling his head next to your shoulder. Mabel followed him, her head tilting to your chest.
You slept, content.
🌪️
You woke up, disturbed.
The first thing you saw after sleeping is Dipper and Mabel staring at you in silence. As soon as you noticed them, they scrambled away from you and tried to act natural.
Yet, you couldn't forget the small glimpse of their faces. Wide-eyed, a bit of judgment, but most of all, solemn.
Before you could question them, Dipper yelled, "Grunkles! They're awake!"
You winced from the volume of his voice, having just woken up. He immediately apologized to you, but it's all good.
"Visit us again soon! Byeee!"
The next thing you know, you're in the backseat of a car with Stanley next to you. He was pouting, arms crossed.
"This is literally my car. I can't believe it! You won't even let me drive my own car?" he sneered at Ford who sat on the driver's seat.
Ford rolled his eyes. "I can't have you get in trouble by driving again. Think of the kid."
While driving to your address is certainly much faster than walking, it still took a while. You managed to fall asleep, tilting your head on Stan's shoulder. It seemed that you're not alone in being unconscious, because he snored loudly.
Glancing at the mirror, Ford simply exhaled.
You're here.
He parked in front of your house.
Ford nudged Stan awake, who poked you awake next.
You stood up drowsily, holding Stan's hand while walking up to your house. Ford took the lead and knocked on your front door.
To both grunkles' disappointment, things get messy.
Both your parents, drunk, loudly told them off and took you away roughly from Stan. Tears leaked out of your eyes, saying countless apologies to the Pines twins and your parents.
Without much of a fight, Ford forcibly grabbed you back, carrying your body with one arm. He looked at Stan who placed a hand on his shoulder.
"Psst, I'll handle this," Stanley murmured in the midst of your father yapping nonsense. Maybe the professional con-man can knock some sense into your deadbeat parents.
Ford took you back to the car. You sobbed relentlessly, whispering the most saddening things he wished to unhear. He hugged you tightly, muttering sweet nothings until you fell asleep.
After a long while, Stan finally came back.
His eyes were wide. He was shaking.
"I didn't mean to. They started it—I had no choice!"
Gazing down, Ford realized Stan's hands were covered in blood. He swallowed the thickness in his throat.
"...I'll help you clean it up."
#yanyan drabble#yanyan crumbs#yandere gravity falls#ok tagging this will take me forever#platonic yandere#gravity falls x reader#yandere gravity falls x reader#yandere stanley pines#yandere stanford pines#yandere Dipper pines#yandere mabel pines#stanley Pines x reader#stanford pines x reader
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Revealed Desires - Lando Norris
(This is a sequel to Secret Desires, but could also be read separately)
Here is part two of the requested oneshot! I loved writing it so much, that I needed to write a part two! It accidentally turned out WAY longer than I intended, but I love how it turned out! Hope y'all like it! Please let me know if you did! :)
Masterlist
This is part two of this one (reading the previous part is advised for more context lol, but you technically could read it separately)
↳pairing: Lando Norris x f!verstappen!reader
↳word count: 8,9K
↳Summary: In which the story continues after the reader (Max Verstappen's twin sister) had a rather interesting text exchange with & FaceTime call with her best friend Lando Norris after he had drunkenly texted her about his sexual fantasies about her.
↳content warnings: reader is Max Verstappen's twin sister, Lando is her best friend, but also more, friends to lovers, first kiss, sexual tension, teasing, dirty talk, smut, 18+ content (MDNI!), explicit sexual content, handjob, blowjob, oral sex f!receiving, orgasm denial, p in v, making love, praise kink,
It had been a few hours since that intimate phone call with you, and yet the giddy sensation still coursed through Lando's veins like wildfire. He obviously still felt incredibly embarrassed about drunk texting you the way he did, but it lead to something great. Something he enjoyed so much, he can't put it into words. The knowledge that you felt the same way about him had turned the usually composed British driver into a lovesick puppy, unable to wipe the goofy grin off his face. He'd been in love with you for quite some time, but now that his feelings were out in the open, everything felt more intense, more real.
Since that call, Lando had managed to shower, get dressed, and gather his things to hang out with a few of the guys at Charles’ place. But the whole time, he’d been distracted, replaying every moment of your conversation, every breathy word exchanged, over and over in his mind.
By the time he arrived at Charles' house and plopped down onto the couch, the weight of it all—how much his life had changed in a few short hours—settled in. But just as he began to sink into his thoughts, he felt a pair of familiar eyes boring into him.
Max was staring at him, that infuriatingly smug grin stretching across his face. "Good morning, Mr. Casanova," Max teased, the humor in his voice impossible to miss as he watched Lando try to hide within the collar of his hoodie.
"Oh god, please, shut up," Lando groaned, pulling the hood further over his face in a futile attempt to disappear. "I don't even remember half of what I said to you last night."
Charles, who had perched himself on the armrest of the couch, took a casual sip of his coffee. The amusement radiating off him was palpable as he clapped a hand on Lando’s shoulder. "Unfortunately for you, Max remembers all of it."
Max leaned back into the cushions, making a dramatic gagging sound as if to punctuate his point. "I wish I could forget some of the things you said, mate," he chuckled. "But I have to admit, some of it was pretty funny. Adorable, even."
Lando's face flushed a deep crimson, his stomach twisting with embarrassment. "Do I even want to know what I said?" he mumbled, his voice barely audible as he avoided the eyes of both his friends.
Charles set his coffee cup down on the table, his expression turning thoughtful. "Well," he began, running a hand through his hair, "you started out pretty innocent. You were going on about how head over heels you are for her—though I can’t recall the exact words, it was clear enough."
Lando groaned again, his face burning with shame as he sank further into the couch. "God, Max, I’m so sorry," he murmured, his voice tinged with regret. "I never wanted you to find out like this."
Max raised his eyebrows, a soft chuckle escaping his lips. "You really think I didn’t already know you were in love with my sister?" he asked, his tone surprisingly gentle. "You’ve been obvious for a while now, even when you weren’t drunk off your ass."
Lando’s eyes widened in shock, his heart skipping a beat. "A-Are… you s-serious?" he stammered, unable to believe what he was hearing.
Charles rolled his eyes, smirking. "Dude, you stare at her more than you do your own race car," he teased. "And let’s not forget that your entire way of talking to each other is just… well, flirting."
Lando felt his heart rate pick up, a mix of relief and mortification washing over him. "Oh," he muttered, his voice small.
"But if that was the innocent part," Lando began, dreading the answer, "what in god's name were the other things I said?"
Max snorted, leaning forward with a grin. "Well, once you were really wasted, you didn’t even seem to notice I was there anymore," he began, the disgust creeping back into his voice. "You were pretty much ranting to Charles about how hot she is and how you’d kill to see her naked."
Charles burst out laughing, almost spilling his coffee in the process. "Hey! Don’t leave out the best part," he chuckled, wiping a tear from the corner of his eye. "You also said that if you had the chance, you’d fuck her on every single piece of furniture in your house."
Max made a dramatic gagging noise again, waving his hands in front of his face. "Okay, enough, ew," he protested, though the laughter in his voice was unmistakable. "We’re talking about my twin sister here, remember?"
Lando buried his face in his hands, sinking so far into the couch he thought he might disappear entirely. "Fucking hell," he muttered, staring up at the ceiling in defeat. "I really am a gigantic idiot."
Max’s laughter subsided into a low chuckle as he leaned back into the cushions. "Well, spilling the beans on your feelings was one thing, but I’m curious how you’re going to talk your way out of this with her," he said, his tone a mix of amusement and curiosity. "You kept going on about needing to text her about something 'very private.'"
Lando groaned again, this time so deeply it resonated in his chest. "Please don’t remind me," he mumbled, knowing all too well what Max was referring to.
Max grinned, clearly enjoying every second of Lando’s discomfort. "So, after I dragged your sorry ass home, I decided to give her a little heads up," he continued, his voice dripping with teasing humor. "But she told me it was a little too late because, apparently, you had already sent her quite the intense text."
Charles, who had been taking another sip of his coffee, choked on it immediately, coughing violently as he tried to suppress his laughter. "Mon dieu," he managed to gasp out between coughs, his face turning red from the effort. "What the heck did you even text her? Did you send her a nude or something?"
Before Lando could even process the question, Max threw his hands up in the air. "Don’t answer that while I’m in the room! I don’t even want to know!" he exclaimed, half laughing, half horrified. "We’re talking about my twin sister here! I need more coffee."
With that, Max got up and headed towards the kitchen, leaving Lando and Charles alone in the living room.
Charles eyed Lando with a raised eyebrow, the teasing smirk never leaving his face. "Now, do tell," he urged, clearly eager to hear the juicy details.
Lando sighed, running a hand through his messy curls. "God, I don’t even want to think about it," he muttered, his voice filled with both regret and reluctant amusement. "I cringe at myself every time I read it back."
Charles chuckled, shaking his head in disbelief. "Did you at least talk to her about it?" he asked, his tone becoming more serious. "I mean, considering you’re not sulking in a corner, I assume she doesn’t hate you now, right?"
Lando felt the heat rise to his cheeks again, a small, embarrassed smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Ehm… yeah, we talked about it," he admitted, his voice trailing off as he tried to downplay the situation.
Charles’ eyes widened in surprise, a knowing grin spreading across his face. "Oh my god, you guys did not…" he started, his voice dripping with playful accusation.
Lando hesitated, biting his lip. "Maybe," he replied, his voice barely above a whisper.
Charles burst out laughing, clapping Lando on the back with a hearty smack. "So, let me get this straight," he began, still chuckling. "You got wasted, accidentally sexted your best friend, and she… liked it? And then you pretty much continued the conversation? Do you even remember a thing of it, or is your text history your only proof?"
Lando’s face turned an even deeper shade of red as he avoided Charles’ gaze, scratching the back of his neck nervously. "Ehm… it might’ve happened this morning through text… then later through FaceTime," he mumbled, his voice barely audible.
Charles let out a low whistle, shaking his head in disbelief. "Nice job, mate," he said, his tone filled with both amusement and genuine admiration. "Better not tell Max that you had literal phone sex with his twin sister."
Before Lando could respond, they heard Max’s voice echoing from the kitchen. "God, I really did not want to hear that," Max groaned, his tone laced with exasperation.
Charles laughed again, turning his attention back to Lando. "Well, now that you’ve crossed that line, what’s the next step?" he asked, his tone more serious now. "Are you going to talk to her about where this is going?"
Lando let out a long sigh, leaning back into the couch as he tried to collect his thoughts. "I mean… yeah, I guess I have to," he admitted, his voice tinged with uncertainty. "I can’t just pretend like nothing happened."
Charles nodded, his expression turning thoughtful. "You’re right," he agreed. "But, honestly, it sounds like you two are already on the same page. You just need to have an actual conversation about it."
Lando nodded, feeling a mix of anxiety and anticipation swirling in his chest. "Yeah… I know, we talked about if for a little.." he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. "I-I admitted my feelings to her. We did kind of agree to starting something real once she's back in Monaco"
Charles gave him a reassuring pat on the shoulder, his smile softening. "That's good"
"Yeah, I actually have to pick her up from the airport tomorrow" he told Charles, a hint of something else in his voice "I would lie if I said I wasn't nervous about it. Just scared that she might come to the conclusion that she regrets it, once she sees me in real life again"
*The following day*
Lando sat in his car at the airport, his nerves doubling with each passing second. His fingers fumbled restlessly in his lap as he tried—and failed—to calm himself down. He had spent the entire night tossing and turning, his mind racing with thoughts of how he should greet you when you finally arrived. Despite offering numerous times to meet you at the gate, to carry your suitcases like a gentleman, you had refused each one with a teasing smile, insisting that you were "a big girl" and could manage on your own. Now, he wondered if he had been too pushy, if maybe he should have backed off and given you more space.
As he waited, Lando’s mind continued to wage a war against itself. Should he just hug you like he always did, keeping things light and familiar? Or should he throw caution to the wind and kiss you, putting everything on the line? The thought of kissing you, of finally feeling your lips on his after all these years of longing, made his heart race. But what if you didn’t want that? What if you pulled away, leaving him to wallow in his embarrassment?
His internal debate was abruptly cut short by the sound of a knock on his window. Lando looked up, his heart skipping a beat as he met your eyes. There you were, standing just outside his car, a soft smile on your lips. That smile—the one that always made his chest tighten—sent a wave of warmth through him. He quickly opened the door, jumping out to help you with your luggage.
"Hi," you murmured softly, echoing the way you had greeted him during your FaceTime call. The familiarity of your voice, that gentle tone, sent a shiver down his spine.
Lando smiled back, feeling the tips of his fingers brush against yours as you both reached for the handle of your suitcase. The slight contact sent a jolt of electricity up his arm, and he had to resist the urge to pull you into his arms right then and there. He inhaled deeply, trying to steady his breathing, but the proximity, the way you looked at him, made it impossible to think straight.
"Fuck this," he muttered under his breath, the words slipping out before he could stop them. In a swift movement, he reached up, sliding his fingers around the back of your neck, his thumb gently brushing against your jaw. The world seemed to slow down as he tilted your face up toward his, his heart pounding in his chest as he finally closed the distance between you.
When his lips met yours, it was like every pent-up emotion, every moment of longing, exploded into that kiss. It wasn’t just a kiss; it was a confession, a release, an answer to all the questions that had been swirling in his mind. His fingers tightened in your hair, pulling you closer as he let himself get lost in the sensation of finally, finally, kissing the one girl he had been in love with for what felt like forever.
Your response was immediate and overwhelming. You released the suitcase from your grip, one of your hands moved up to tangle in his curls, pulling him closer, while the other slid down to cover his hand, guiding it to your waist. The heat of your body against his was intoxicating, and Lando felt like he was drowning in you, in the softness of your lips, in the way you seemed to melt into him.
As your kiss deepened, Lando could feel your breath hitch, your body pressing even closer to his as if you couldn’t get enough. He took the invitation, gently parting your lips with his, and when your tongues met, it was like a spark igniting a wildfire. His hand moved to the small of your back, pulling you flush against him as he backed you up against the side of the car. The cool metal of the car against your back contrasted with the heat between you, making you gasp softly into the kiss.
Every touch, every brush of your lips, every flick of your tongue sent shivers down Lando’s spine. He could feel your heartbeat against his chest, could hear the soft, breathy sounds you made as the kiss grew more urgent. His hands roamed your back, sliding up to cup your face, then back down to your waist, as if trying to memorize every curve, every inch of you. The world around you faded away, leaving just the two of you, completely lost in each other.
You responded with equal fervor, your hands exploring the expanse of his back, his shoulders, as you gave in to the overwhelming pull of desire that had been building between you for so long. The way Lando kissed you—desperate yet tender, with a mix of hunger and reverence—made your heart swell with emotion. It was as if he was pouring all his love, all his need, into that kiss, and you couldn’t help but respond in kind.
When you finally broke apart, both of you were breathless, your foreheads resting together as you tried to steady your racing hearts. Lando’s fingers played with a stray strand of your hair, his touch feather-light as he whispered, "Sorry if that was too straightforward. I just… I couldn’t help myself."
You giggled softly, your lips brushing against his as you spoke. "Lan, we both know we crossed the 'too straightforward' line already when you sent me that one text," you teased, a playful glint in your eyes.
Lando’s cheeks flushed a deep red, his gaze dropping to the ground as he muttered, "Shut up."
But you weren’t about to let him get away that easily. Smiling, you tilted his chin up with your finger, forcing him to meet your gaze before leaning in to press a soft, lingering kiss to his lips. "Hey, I never said I was complaining" you murmured against his lips, your voice filled with affection.
Lando felt a surge of relief wash over him, his lips curling into a smile against yours. All the tension, all the nerves, seemed to melt away in that moment, replaced by a warmth that spread through his entire being. As you pulled back slightly, his eyes searched yours, finding only the same affection and desire that he felt reflected back at him.
"Now, let's get this stuff in the car and head back to my place. Because I think we both waited long enough now, don't you think?" you teased him, your fingers playing with the hem of his t-shirt.
⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺
As Lando and you finally settled into the car, the engine's quiet hum filled the space, a stark contrast to the roaring thoughts and desires that swirled between you. The atmosphere was thick with anticipation, the kind that made every breath feel heavier, every glance more charged. The drive back to your place had never felt so excruciatingly long, and the unspoken understanding between you made the tension all the more palpable.
You both tried to keep the conversation light, casual even, but it was impossible to ignore the undercurrent of desire that crackled between you like static electricity. Lando gripped the steering wheel a little too tightly, his knuckles turning white as he navigated through the city streets. He stole glances at you whenever he thought you weren’t looking, his mind racing with thoughts of what would happen once you finally reached your apartment.
“So, did you miss me?” you teased, your voice playful yet laced with something deeper.
Lando chuckled, his voice strained as he responded. “Miss you?” He shot you a sidelong glance, the corner of his mouth twitching into a smirk. “Yeah, something like that.”
Your hand slowly inched its way over to his thigh, resting lightly at first, but enough to make him shift in his seat. You could feel the muscle tense beneath your fingers, his reaction immediate and telling. You didn’t miss the way his breath hitched, or the subtle clenching of his jaw as he tried to maintain his focus on the road.
“What are you doing?” he asked, his voice a mix of curiosity and warning, though you could hear the underlying strain, the barely restrained desire.
“Nothing,” you replied innocently, your fingers beginning to trace small, teasing circles on his thigh, gradually moving closer to where you knew he was most sensitive. “Just… thinking.”
“Thinking?” Lando’s voice had dropped to a husky whisper, his eyes narrowing slightly as he tried—and failed—to ignore the effect your touch was having on him. “About what, exactly?”
You leaned in closer, your breath warm against his ear as you whispered, “About how long this drive is taking. Don’t you think it’s… too long?”
Lando let out a low, frustrated groan, his eyes fluttering shut for a brief moment before he forced them open again, his grip on the steering wheel tightening. “You’re killing me, you know that?”
You giggled softly, the sound filled with a mix of mischief and satisfaction. Your hand moved higher, your fingers brushing against the growing bulge in his pants, eliciting a sharp intake of breath from him. He glanced over at you, his eyes darkening with lust, and you could see the tension in his expression, the way he was barely holding himself together.
“Do you want me to stop?” you asked, your voice dripping with mock innocence, though the wicked glint in your eyes betrayed your intentions.
“Fuck…” Lando cursed under his breath, his hips involuntarily jerking forward at the contact. “You’re going to make me crash this car if you keep that up.”
But despite his words, he didn’t make any move to stop you. Instead, he shifted slightly in his seat, almost as if inviting you to continue. The knowledge that you had this kind of power over him, that you could unravel him with just a few touches, sent a thrill through you, your own arousal growing with each passing second.
As your hand pressed more firmly against him, Lando couldn’t suppress the moan that escaped his lips, low and guttural, filled with the kind of raw need that made your stomach tighten with anticipation. The sound of it, the way his body responded so helplessly to your touch, only fueled your desire, your own breath becoming shallow as you leaned in closer.
“I think you like this,” you whispered, your lips brushing against his ear as you spoke, your hand slowly, deliberately, palming him through his jeans. You could feel him hardening beneath your touch, and the thought of what was to come made your own body ache with need.
“Fuck, you’re right,” Lando admitted, his voice rough and strained. He let out another soft moan, his hips shifting again, seeking more of your touch despite his earlier protests. “But you’re also going to regret teasing me like this.”
“Is that a threat?” you teased, your hand now fully exploring the outline of his erection, your fingers pressing just hard enough to drive him crazy, but not enough to satisfy.
“Consider it a promise,” Lando growled, his voice thick with lust. The tension in the car was nearly unbearable now, every second feeling like an eternity as you continued to push him closer to the edge.
The rest of the drive was a torturous mix of heated touches and ragged breaths, the air thick with anticipation. Every kilometer that separated you from your apartment seemed to stretch on forever, amplifying the tension that crackled between you. Lando’s eyes flicked from the road to your hand on his bulge, watching as your fingers continued their slow, deliberate exploration. His breathing was uneven, the struggle to keep his focus on driving becoming increasingly difficult with each passing second.
You noticed how his grip on the steering wheel tightened, knuckles white, the strain evident in every line of his body. His jaw was clenched, his gaze forward, but you could see the way his eyes darkened, how his breath hitched every time your fingers palmed over the bulge straining against his jeans.
“You’re awfully quiet, Lando,” you teased, your voice low and sultry, your fingers tracing the outline of his erection with maddening slowness. “Cat got your tongue?”
Lando let out a shaky breath, his voice strained as he responded. “Trying to focus on not crashing the car, love,” he muttered, his words laced with a mixture of frustration and arousal. His eyes briefly met yours, the intensity of his gaze sending a shiver down your spine. “But you’re making that damn near impossible.”
You smiled, pleased with the effect you were having on him. Leaning in closer, your lips brushed against his ear as you whispered, “What would you do to me if we weren’t in this car right now?”
Lando’s breath hitched again, a soft groan escaping his lips as your words sent a surge of heat through him. He swallowed hard, his mind racing with images of all the things he wanted to do to you. “You really want to know?” he asked, his voice dropping to a low, husky tone that made your pulse quicken.
“Mmhmm,” you hummed, your hand pressing more firmly against his erection, eliciting another groan from him. “Tell me, Lando. What would you do if you had me all to yourself right now?”
Lando’s eyes fluttered shut for a moment, his grip on the wheel tightening as he tried to maintain control. “I’d start by pinning you against the wall,” he began, his voice thick with desire. “I’d kiss you until you were breathless, until you couldn’t think straight. And then I’d strip you down, piece by piece, until there was nothing between us.”
His words sent a thrill through you, your body reacting instantly to the vivid images he painted with his voice. You could feel the heat pooling low in your belly, the ache of wanting him becoming almost unbearable. “And then?” you prompted, your voice breathy, urging him to continue.
Lando swallowed hard, his hips shifting slightly under your touch. “Then I’d lay you down, spread you out for me,” he continued, his voice growing darker, more intense. “I’d take my time, kiss every inch of you, taste you until you’re begging for more.”
A soft whimper escaped your lips at his words, the need inside you flaring hotter with every second. “Fuck, Lando,” you breathed, your hand moving up to cup him more fully, feeling the hardness beneath your fingers. “You’re going to drive me crazy.”
“You think you’re the only one?” Lando shot back, his voice rough with arousal. He let out another low groan as you began to palm him through his jeans, his hips lifting slightly into your touch, seeking more. “Keep that up and we won’t even make it to your apartment.”
You couldn’t help but smile at his reaction, feeling a surge of satisfaction at the way you were affecting him. “Maybe that’s the idea,” you murmured, your lips brushing against his neck, your breath warm against his skin. “Maybe I want to see how much you can take.”
Lando let out a soft, desperate moan, his control slipping further with every touch, every word. “You’re fucking evil, you know that?” he groaned, his head falling back against the headrest as he gave in to the pleasure, his body reacting instinctively to your teasing. “But god, I love it.”
The tension in the car was nearly unbearable now, the air thick with the scent of arousal and the promise of what was to come. Every brush of your fingers, every shift of your body sent waves of desire crashing over both of you, making it almost impossible to think clearly.
As you continued to tease him, your own body was alight with need, every fiber of your being aching for him. The sight of Lando struggling to keep his composure, the way he was completely at your mercy, only fueled your desire, your own breaths coming in short, shallow gasps as you pressed your lips to his neck, feeling his pulse racing beneath your touch.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Lando pulled up to your apartment building, the car coming to a sudden, jerky stop as he practically slammed on the brakes. He turned to you, his eyes dark and filled with a mixture of frustration and desire. “Get out of the car,” he commanded, his voice rough and strained, leaving no room for argument.
You didn’t need to be told twice. The moment you stepped out, Lando was there, his hands gripping your waist as he pushed you back against the car, his lips crashing onto yours with a desperate, almost frantic intensity. The kiss was hot, urgent, filled with all the pent-up desire that had been building between you for so long. His hands roamed your body, sliding down to your hips as he pressed himself against you, letting you feel the full extent of his arousal.
“You have no idea what you’re in for,” Lando murmured against your lips, his voice a low growl that sent a shiver down your spine. His hands tightened on your hips, pulling you even closer as his lips moved to your neck, his teeth grazing your skin in a way that made you moan softly.
“Then show me,” you whispered back, your voice trembling with anticipation as your hands tangled in his hair, pulling him closer. “I want to feel everything.”
Lando groaned at your words, his control slipping further as he kissed his way down your neck, his hands sliding under your shirt, exploring the soft skin of your back. “You’re going to be the death of me,” he muttered, his breath hot against your skin as he nipped at your collarbone, making you gasp.
When he finally pulled back, his eyes were dark with lust, his chest heaving as he struggled to catch his breath. Without another word, he grabbed your hand, practically dragging you toward the entrance of the building. The anticipation was palpable, every step closer to your apartment only adding to the tension between you.
The elevator ride up was a blur of heated touches and frantic kisses, Lando’s lips never leaving your skin as he pressed you against the wall, his hands roaming your body with a mix of urgency and reverence. “Fuck, I’ve wanted this for so long,” he murmured against your neck, his voice rough and filled with raw need.
“Me too,” you breathed, your voice trembling with desire as your hands explored the planes of his chest, feeling the hard muscle beneath his shirt. “I’ve wanted you for so long, Lando.”
His lips found yours again, this time slower, more deliberate, as if savoring the taste of you. The kiss was deep, consuming, and you could feel every ounce of his passion, his longing, in the way his tongue danced with yours, the way his hands gripped you as if he was afraid you might slip away.
When the elevator finally dinged at your floor, Lando wasted no time, pulling you out and down the hall toward your apartment. His impatience was evident in the way he fumbled with the keys, his hands shaking slightly from the adrenaline and lust coursing through his veins.
“You’re driving me insane,” he muttered under his breath, his voice filled with a mix of frustration and arousal as he finally managed to unlock the door. The moment it swung open, he had you inside, slamming it shut behind him as he pressed you up against it, his lips crashing onto yours once again.
The kiss was even more intense this time, fueled by the knowledge that there were no more interruptions, no more delays. This was it. You were finally alone, and nothing was going to stop what came next.
His hands were everywhere, sliding under your shirt, up your back, down to your thighs, as if he couldn’t decide where to touch you first. Every brush of his fingers against your skin sent jolts of pleasure through you, and you could feel the heat pooling low in your belly, the anticipation becoming almost unbearable.
Lando’s lips left yours, trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses down your jawline to your neck, his teeth grazing your skin in a way that made you shiver. “I’m going to make you pay for teasing me like that,” he whispered against your neck, his voice a low, seductive growl that made your heart race.
“I’m counting on it,” you replied breathlessly, your hands clutching at his shoulders as you pulled him even closer, your body aching with need.
And with that, any remaining restraint between you shattered, the desire that had been simmering beneath the surface finally boiling over as Lando’s hands and lips claimed every inch of you, leaving you both lost in the heat of the moment, eager to make up for all the time you had spent longing for each other.
When his lips left yours again, you barely had time to catch your breath before they were on your neck, leaving a trail of hot, open-mouthed kisses along your jawline. His hands continued their slow exploration, moving higher until they reached the curve of your breasts, his thumbs brushing teasingly over your hardened nipples through the thin fabric of your bra.
A soft moan escaped your lips at the contact, your back arching slightly as you pressed into his touch. Lando’s breath was hot against your skin as he nipped at your collarbone, his hands moving to unhook your bra with practiced ease. The garment fell away, leaving you exposed to his hungry gaze.
“You have no idea how much I want this,” Lando murmured against your skin, his voice low and filled with a mix of reverence and desire. His hands cupped your breasts, his thumbs brushing over your sensitive nipples as he captured your lips in another searing kiss.
“Then stop teasing,” you whispered against his lips, your voice trembling with anticipation as your hands tangled in his hair, pulling him closer. “I want you, Lando.”
Lando groaned softly at your words, his resolve crumbling as his hands began to roam lower, sliding down your stomach to the waistband of your jeans. He unbuttoned them slowly, his fingers brushing against your skin as he tugged the fabric down your hips, leaving you in just your panties.
He pulled back slightly, his eyes dark with lust as he took in the sight of you standing before him, half-naked and completely vulnerable. “You’re so fucking beautiful,” he whispered, his voice filled with awe as his hands traced the curve of your hips, his thumbs brushing against the delicate lace of your panties.
Without another word, Lando’s hands moved to your thighs, his fingers tracing slow, deliberate paths along your skin, causing shivers to run down your spine. He stood in front of you, his eyes locked onto yours as his fingers slipped beneath the waistband of your panties, dragging them down your legs with agonizing slowness.
The cool air against your exposed skin only heightened your sensitivity, every nerve ending tingling with anticipation. Lando’s hands moved back up your thighs, his touch firm yet gentle as he spread your legs wider. He leaned in, pressing a kiss to an exposed bit of skin, just behind your ear, before his fingers began their slow, torturous journey closer to your core.
Your breath hitched, your body trembling with need as his fingers hovered just above where you wanted them most. He teased you, his fingertips brushing lightly against your sensitive skin, drawing out soft whimpers from your lips. The tension in your body grew unbearable as Lando finally let his fingers slide through your wetness, his touch sending sparks of pleasure shooting through you.
He began to move his fingers with expert precision, his eyes never leaving yours as he watched your reactions, each moan, each gasp fueling his desire. His thumb found your clit, rubbing slow, deliberate circles as his fingers delved deeper, the sensation building with every stroke. You could feel the pressure mounting, your body arching into his touch as you teetered on the edge of release.
But just as you were about to fall over the precipice, Lando’s movements slowed, his fingers pulling back, leaving you hanging in that unbearable space between pleasure and release. A frustrated whimper escaped your lips as you looked up at him, your body aching with the need for more.
But Lando only smirked up at you, his eyes filled with a mischievous glint. “That’s for teasing me in the car,” he teased, his voice low and filled with satisfaction as he slowly rose to his feet, his hands resting on your hips as he pressed a soft kiss to your lips.
“You’re an asshole,” you whispered against his lips, your voice filled with a mix of frustration and determination as you reached for his shirt, unbuttoning it with trembling fingers. You pushed the fabric off his shoulders, letting it fall to the floor before your hands moved to the waistband of his jeans.
But before you could undo the button, Lando’s hands were on you again, lifting you effortlessly as he carried you to the kitchen counter. He placed you on the cool surface, his hands sliding up your thighs as he positioned himself between your legs.
His lips were on yours again, hot and demanding, as his hands roamed your body, exploring every curve, every dip, as if trying to memorize the feel of you. When he pulled back, his eyes were dark with lust, his breathing heavy as he knelt down between your legs, his hands gripping your thighs as he spread you open before him.
The anticipation was almost unbearable as you watched him, his gaze locked on yours as he lowered his head, his lips brushing against your most sensitive spot. The first stroke of his tongue sent a jolt of pleasure through you, your hands flying to his hair as you arched into him, your breath coming in short, desperate gasps.
Lando’s tongue moved with precision, each stroke bringing you closer to the edge, the pleasure building with every second. You could feel the heat pooling in your belly, your body trembling with the need for release as he continued to pleasure you with slow, deliberate movements.
Just when you thought you couldn’t take it anymore, just when you were about to tip over the edge, once again, Lando pulled back, leaving you gasping for breath, your body aching with the need for more.
“Lando!” you cried out, your voice filled with frustration as you looked down at him, your chest heaving with the effort to catch your breath.
Lando only chuckled, a smug smile playing on his lips as he slowly rose to his feet, his hands resting on your hips as he pressed a soft kiss to your lips. “I told you I would make you regret teasing me,” he murmured against your lips, his voice filled with satisfaction as he nipped at your lower lip.
“You're lucky you're hot” you shot back, your voice trembling with a mix of frustration and determination as you reached for his jeans, unbuttoning them with your fingers. You pushed the fabric down his hips, letting it fall to the floor as you slid off the counter, your hands moving to his hips, guiding him against the kitchen counter, sinking to your knees.
Lando’s breath hitched as you knelt before him, your fingers teasing the waistband of his boxers as you looked up at him, a wicked glint in your eyes. “Is this what you want?” you asked, your voice low and sultry as your fingers brushed against his erection, the contact sending a shiver of pleasure through him.
“Please,” Lando groaned, his hands clutching at the counter behind him as he watched you, his eyes filled with a mixture of desperation and lust. “Don’t tease me.”
But you weren’t done with him yet. You wanted to make him feel the same frustration, the same desperation that he had made you feel. Slowly, deliberately, you began to kiss your way up his thigh, your lips brushing against his skin in a way that made his breath catch in his throat.
"You look so good, Lan. You make me so wet.” you whispered against his skin, your voice filled with a mix of challenge and desire as your fingers teased him, brushing against his erection but never quite touching him where he needed it most.
Lando’s hips jerked forward, a soft moan escaping his lips as he clutched at the counter, his control slipping further with every touch, every kiss. “Fuck,” he muttered under his breath, his voice rough and strained. “You’re killing me.”
You smiled up at him, your hands finally sliding up to his boxers, pulling them down to free his aching length. The sight of him, hard and ready for you, sent a thrill of anticipation through you, your own arousal heightening as you took him in your hand, feeling the warmth and hardness of him against your palm.
Lando’s breath hitched, his eyes fluttering shut as you began to stroke him slowly, your movements deliberate and teasing. Your thumb brushed over the sensitive tip, gathering the bead of moisture there before sliding back down his length. His hips bucked slightly into your hand, a low groan escaping his lips as he watched you through half-lidded eyes, his gaze dark with lust.
“F-Fuck, that feels so good,” he muttered, his voice rough and thick with need. His hands gripped the counter behind him, knuckles white as he tried to maintain some semblance of control. But you could see the tension in his muscles, the way his body responded to every touch, every twist of your wrist.
You increased the pace slightly, your strokes becoming firmer, more purposeful as you worked him with your hand. Lando’s breathing grew heavier, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he struggled to keep his composure. “You like that?” you whispered, your voice sultry, dripping with seduction as you watched him with hooded eyes.
“God, yes,” Lando groaned, his head falling back as another moan slipped from his lips. “So fucking good.”
You smirked, your confidence growing with every sound of pleasure that escaped him. You changed your technique, your grip tightening slightly as you twisted your wrist at the top, your thumb rubbing over the sensitive underside of his tip in a way that made his hips jerk forward, his breath catching in his throat.
“Is this what you’ve been fantasizing about?” you asked, your voice low and teasing as you leaned in closer, your breath hot against his skin. “Thinking about me, touching you like this?”
Lando let out a shaky breath, his eyes squeezing shut as he struggled to find the words. “Yes,” he managed to choke out, his voice strained with the effort to hold back. “Every night. Fuck, you have no idea.”
You smiled, satisfied with his response as you continued to stroke him, your movements becoming a little faster, a little more intense. You could feel him throbbing in your hand, his body trembling with the need for release. “Do you want more, Lando?” you whispered, your lips brushing against the base of his length as you spoke, sending a shiver through him. “Do you want my mouth on you?”
Lando’s eyes flew open, the raw need in them making your own arousal spike. “Please,” he groaned, his voice a desperate plea. “I need it. I need you.”
His words sent a jolt of excitement through you, and without breaking eye contact, you slowly lowered your head, your lips parting as you took him into your mouth. The sensation of his hard length filling you, the taste of him on your tongue, was intoxicating, and you let out a soft moan as you began to move, your mouth working him with the same deliberate, teasing pace you had used with your hand.
Lando’s reaction was immediate, his hands flying to your hair, his fingers tangling in the strands as he tried to maintain control. “Fuck,” he hissed, his hips bucking involuntarily as you hollowed your cheeks, taking him deeper. “You feel so good. So fucking good.”
Encouraged by his praise, you began to move faster, your tongue swirling around him, flicking against the sensitive underside as you bobbed your head, taking him in as deep as you could. You could feel the tension in his thighs, the way his muscles tightened and quivered under your touch, his body responding to every flick of your tongue, every suction of your lips.
You placed your hands on the back of his thighs, your fingers digging into his flesh as you pulled him closer, encouraging him to let go, to give in to the pleasure. “Is this what you wanted?” you asked, pulling back just enough to speak, your voice breathy and filled with desire. “Is this what you’ve been dreaming about?”
“Yes,” Lando groaned, his voice strained as he fought to keep control. “Fuck, you’re perfect. Don’t stop. Please, don’t stop.”
His words only spurred you on, and you resumed your pace, your mouth working him with more intensity, more urgency as you brought him closer to the edge. His breathing grew ragged, his moans becoming more frequent, more desperate as he hovered on the brink of release.
But just as you felt him start to tense, his body trembling with the need for release, you pulled back, letting him slip from your mouth with a teasing smile. Lando let out a frustrated groan, his head falling back as his hands tightened in your hair, the sensation of being so close yet denied driving him to the brink of madness.
“Fuck,” Lando breathed out, his voice laced with desperation. His eyes were half-lidded, darkened with lust as he looked down at you, still kneeling before him, that wicked glint in your eyes. “Why did you stop?”
“Two can play that game,” you whispered, your voice filled with playful challenge as you looked up at him, your lips brushing against the sensitive skin of his thigh. “How does it feel, Lando? To be so close and yet so far?”
Lando’s breath was ragged, his chest heaving as he looked down at you, his eyes filled with a mixture of frustration and raw need. “You’re going to be the death of me,” he muttered, his voice rough with desperation, but there was a spark of amusement in his eyes, a silent acknowledgment that he was enjoying this, even if it was driving him crazy.
Lando let out a shaky breath, his hands moving to your waist as he pulled you closer, his lips brushing against yours in a brief, heated kiss. “Fucking hell, you have no idea what you do to me” he murmured against your lips, his voice rough with need, his hands gripping your hips as he pressed you back against the counter.
You felt a shiver run down your spine at the heat in his voice, the raw intensity of his words sending a surge of desire straight to your core. Lando’s lips met yours again, this time slower, more deliberate, as if he was savoring every second. His hands slid down to your thighs, lifting you slightly so he could press you even closer against the counter, his body flush against yours. You responded eagerly, your hands threading through his hair, tugging lightly as you deepened the kiss, your tongue teasingly flicking against his.
You could feel the tension building between you, the need to be even closer, but you couldn’t resist playing with him just a little more. You nipped at his lower lip, pulling back slightly to murmur against his mouth, “You’re holding back, Lando. What’s wrong? Afraid you can’t handle a little teasing?”
Your words drew a low, frustrated growl from him, his eyes darkening with desire as he looked at you, the playful spark in your gaze only spurring him on. “Oh, I can handle it,” he replied, his voice a rough whisper, full of promise. And with that, he closed the distance between you in an instant, his hands grabbing you by the waist as he lifted you off the ground, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist as he carried you towards the bedroom.
Your laughter echoed through the kitchen as Lando carried you towards the bedroom, his grip on you firm, yet gentle, as if he couldn’t bear to let you go. The intensity in his eyes sent a thrill through you, your heart racing as you felt the cool air on your skin, a sharp contrast to the heat radiating from his body.
He pushed the bedroom door open with his foot, and before you knew it, you were on the bed, Lando hovering above you, his hands framing your face as he stared down at you with a mixture of love and raw need. The look in his eyes made your breath catch, the reality of the moment crashing over you. This was real. This was happening.
Lando’s lips found yours again, the kiss slower this time, more deliberate, as if he was savoring every second, every taste of you. His hands roamed your body, sliding down your sides, over your hips, before coming to rest on your thighs, spreading them apart as he settled between them.
But just as Lando was about to move lower, his lips brushing against the curve of your breast, he paused, his breath coming in short, shallow gasps as he looked up at you, his eyes filled with a mix of emotions. “Are you sure?” he asked, his voice soft, but carrying a depth of sincerity that made your heart swell.
“I’m sure, Lando,” you whispered, your voice filled with certainty and affection. “I want this. I want you.”
Lando’s eyes searched yours for a moment longer, as if making absolutely certain, before he spoke again, his tone gentle but serious. “I just want to make sure you don’t feel pressured into anything. This… this means a lot to me. It’s more than just sex for me.”
Your heart melted at his words, the care and concern in his voice making you fall even more for him. You cupped his cheek, your thumb brushing lightly over his skin as you smiled up at him. “I don’t feel pressured at all. I want this just as much as you do, Lando. It means a lot to me too.”
Relief washed over his features, his eyes softening as he leaned down to press a tender kiss to your lips, filled with all the emotion he couldn’t quite put into words. “Thank you,” he whispered against your lips, his hands gently caressing your sides as he deepened the kiss, his body pressing warmly against yours.
With that final confirmation, the last of his restraint melted away. The kiss grew more intense, more passionate, as Lando’s hands roamed your body with a newfound purpose, exploring every inch of you with reverence and need. His lips moved down your neck, to your chest, leaving a trail of hot, open-mouthed kisses that made you shiver with anticipation.
You could feel the hard length of him pressing against your thigh, the evidence of his desire only fueling your own. Your hands roamed his back, feeling the tension in his muscles, the way his body responded to your touch. The heat between you was almost unbearable now, the need for him becoming overwhelming as his lips found the sensitive spot just below your ear, making you moan softly.
“Please, Lando,” you whispered, your voice trembling with desperation as you arched into him, your body aching with the need for release. “I need you.”
Lando let out a low groan at your words, his hands sliding down to your hips as he positioned himself between your legs. He paused for a moment, his eyes locking onto yours as he whispered, “I want to make this perfect for you.”
“It already is,” you whispered back, your voice filled with affection as you cupped his face, pulling him into a soft, lingering kiss. “Just make love to me, Lando.”
With a soft, almost reverent sigh, Lando pressed his forehead against yours, his breath mingling with yours as he slowly, gently, entered you. The sensation was overwhelming, a mix of pleasure and emotion that made you gasp, your hands clutching at his shoulders as he filled you completely.
Lando let out a shaky breath, his body trembling slightly as he stilled for a moment, letting you both adjust to the new, intimate connection. The feeling of him inside you, of being so close, so connected, was almost too much to bear, the intensity of it sending waves of pleasure and emotion crashing over you.
He began to move slowly, his thrusts gentle and deliberate, his eyes never leaving yours as he made love to you with a tenderness that took your breath away. Every movement, every touch was filled with love, with a depth of emotion that made your heart swell with affection for him.
You could feel the tension building again, the pleasure mounting with every thrust, every brush of his skin against yours. Lando’s hands roamed your body, his lips pressing soft kisses to your neck, your collarbone, as he whispered sweet, breathless praises in your ear.
“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, his voice filled with awe as he looked down at you, his eyes dark with love and desire. “I can’t believe I get to have you like this.”
“Lando,” you gasped, your voice trembling with emotion as you clutched at him, your body moving in sync with his. “I love you.”
The words slipped out before you could stop them, the raw truth of your feelings finally breaking free. Lando’s eyes widened in surprise, his movements slowing for a moment as he stared down at you, his breath catching in his throat.
“I love you too,” he whispered, his voice filled with a mix of awe and affection as he leaned down to press a tender kiss to your lips. The words hung in the air between you, a promise, a declaration that made your heart swell with happiness.
With those words still echoing in the air, Lando’s pace quickened, his thrusts becoming more urgent, more desperate as the pleasure built to a fever pitch. You could feel yourself getting closer, the tension coiling tighter in your belly as you held onto him, your body trembling with the need for release.
Lando’s breath was hot against your ear, his voice rough and filled with desperation as he whispered, “Come for me, love. I want to feel you.”
His words, the way he moved inside you with such passion and tenderness, was enough to send you over the edge. Your body tensed, your back arching off the bed as the wave of pleasure crashed over you, your breathless moans filling the room as you came undone in his arms.
The sensation of you tightening around him, the way you cried out his name in pure ecstasy, was enough to push Lando over the edge with you. With a few more deep, urgent thrusts, he followed you into bliss, his body trembling as he found his release, his breath coming in short, ragged gasps.
For a moment, the world seemed to stand still, the only sound in the room the heavy breathing of two people who had just found something they had both been longing for. Lando collapsed on top of you, his weight comforting as he buried his face in the crook of your neck, his breath warm against your skin.
You held him close, your fingers running through his hair as you both came down from the high, your bodies still entwined, the connection between you stronger than ever.
“I love you,” Lando whispered again, his voice soft and filled with affection as he pressed a tender kiss to your shoulder, his arms wrapping around you as if he couldn’t bear to let you go.
“I love you too,” you murmured back, your heart swelling with happiness as you held him close, your eyes fluttering shut as you savored the warmth of his body against yours, the contentment that filled you both as you lay there, basking in the afterglow of the most intense, passionate, and loving moment you had ever shared.
Masterlist | Promptlist
(requests are still open)
#f1 fanfic#formula 1#smut#f1 imagine#f1 x reader#fluff#friends to lovers#formula 1 smut#mclaren#lando norris#lando norris x you#lando norris smut#lando norris x reader#lando norris imagine#lando norris fanfic#lando norris fluff#f1 2024#mclaren f1
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˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗ Tornado Warnings | Jonathan Crane
hi im back! sorry for being so inactive. i'm trying to write whenever i have like a min to breathe from uni...anyways i wanted to write something that feels like fall? does that make sense? probably not LOL
summary — the best thing to do to pass time in a power outage is sex, obviously.
warnings — smut, p in v, unprotected sex, creampie, oral (f!receiving), super soft lover boy jonathan, fluff
word count — 1.8k
masterlist
MDNI 18+ ONLY
“Oh.”
Your voice cut through the silence in Jonathan and yours’ shared, cozy bedroom as the previously dimly lit room was now consumed in total darkness. “I don’t like this,” you said to your boyfriend who was beside you in bed as you tossed your book down, “I was trying to read.”
A tornado warning for Gotham was issued earlier, but they said that’s all it was — just a warning. However, the turbulent wind clearly had some effect on your home, as the power was now out. Like you said to Jonathan; you were just trying to read, but it seemed like Mother Nature had other plans.
Plus, you weren’t a big fan of the dark. Couldn’t the power have gone off at any other time besides nearly midnight?
“You’re funny, you know that?” Jonathan said with a chuckle, and if you could’ve seen him right now, you knew you’d see him smiling. You heard some shuffling as Jonathan reached over, presumably to grab his phone, and turning on the flashlight. “Stay here, I’m going to grab some candles to light.”
“I’m scared,” you whined. “I hate the dark.”
“You’ll live,” he teased, getting up before leaving the room for a few minutes until he returned, candles in hand. “Good thing you insisted we go to Target and get all these candles for fall.”
For someone as malicious and unhinged as he was, his tough exterior would crack (more like completely shatter) when he was around you. Since Jonathan is constantly consumed by his work, he likes to spend time with you as much as he can when he isn’t at Arkham (and poisoning Gotham) working late. So, that means if you want to get Starbucks and go shopping for fall candles at Target — he’s there.
No questions asked.
Sure, he may have been a corrupt psychiatrist as well as a hardened criminal and one of Gotham’s many rogues, but that didn’t mean he didn’t want to do domestic things with his girlfriend. On Saturday nights, he would be working till the early hours of the morning with his patients and his toxin — only to spend the following Sunday wrapped up in bed with you watching silly Netflix shows.
The best of both worlds is how Jonathan would put it.
“You always say I have too many,” you huffed, to which he laughed softly, lighting the 3-wick candles.
“That’s because you have like, what, fifty? Our entire house smells like maple pecan waffles all the time, twenty-four-seven — but you get so excited over them. It’s cute. I love watching you get all excited over this kind of stuff.”
You blushed at his words, looking over at his handsome face, now illuminated by the dim light of multiple lit candles placed throughout your bedroom. “Shut up,” you mumble, watching him get back into bed with you. “Just come here and love me.”
He looked at you with those heart-stopping blue eyes of his, pulling you in for a soft kiss. Instinctively, you wrapped your around his shoulders, deepening the kiss. “I’ve missed you,” he said between kisses, dragging them down your neck and nipping gently at the delicate skin. “Hate when work keeps me away from you, my dear.”
“I know,” you said quietly, eyes fluttering shut from the feeling of his lips against your skin. “I hate it, too. I…” You felt yourself losing your train of thought as his hands roamed your body, settling on your waist as you two lay cozied up in the bed.
“Let me show you how much I’ve missed you, my darling,” he whispered, squeezing your waist gently as you rested your head comfortably against the pillows, lying back. “All I could think about at work was you. All alone at home…waitin’ for me.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
He left a trail of kisses all down your body, slowly building up to where you wanted him to go. Luckily for Jonathan, tonight — even amid a tornado warning — you decided to wear your favourite lace slip to bed with nothing underneath, making it all the more easy for him to access every part of you.
Within minutes, he had you slipping out of your lace as you tossed the delicate garment somewhere onto the bedroom floor with only one thing on your mind right now. The rather intimate and romantic lighting from the collection of candles dimly lighting up the room wasn’t helping your case either.
Jonathan’s intoxicating touch brought you back to reality, and you weren’t sure how it happened (not that you care how it came to be), but his hands were gently resting on your thighs as he lay between your legs, his crystalline blue eyes filled with hunger.
At this very moment, you sent a silent thank you to Mother Nature for causing this to happen during ovulation week because yes, you were so horny that your glistening cunt was dripping onto the bedsheets underneath you and he hadn’t even touched you there yet. All you knew was that you needed to be touched, to be fucked, to be loved right now and thank god Jonathan was here to satisfy that primal need in you.
“Please, Jon — we haven’t had sex in like two days,” you whined, causing him to let out a breathless laugh as he smiled sweetly at you. He may have found it funny that you were this desperate (after only 48 hours…) but you didn’t find a thing about this situation humorous. With your hormones clouding your judgment, you started to beg your loving boyfriend. “Come on Jonathan, I–”
Before you could muster up any more whines and pleas, he licked a fat stripe up your already soaking cunt, swiping his tongue through your folds as you arched your back and let out a guttural moan.
“O-oh—“
He lapped up your cunt skillfully as his hands kept a firm grip on your thighs, making sure that he was eating you out until you couldn’t take it anymore. “Delicious,” he mumbled against your cunt, continuing to lick, nip, and eat your pussy out as if it was the last thing he’d ever get to do in this lifetime.
Mere minutes in and you were already arching your back, breathlessly saying his name over and over again — he could never get tired of hearing you like this. The way you’d feverishly moan “Oh, Jonathan,” and occasionally if you were exceptionally into it, you’d sometimes call him “baby,” and that always wound him up. Jonathan could spend ages with his face buried between your thighs, but it seemed that you were already close to coming pretty quickly.
“Yes! Please–” you frantically moaned, feeling the waves of your release starting to wash over you with his tongue deep inside your soaking hole, lapping up all your juices. “Jon, baby, I’m gonna…”
Jonathan continued to eat you out as if he were a starved man through your orgasm, letting you ride it out and rut against his face until you were pushing his head away softly from the slight overstimulation. After getting up from between your legs, he wiped your arousal off of his chin, looking at you as if you were the answer to his every prayer.
“God, you’re like a dream,” he said softly, causing your cheeks to heat up.
Before any more romantic words could roll off the tip of his tongue, you were helping him out of his black pyjama shirt and his checkered pyjama pants (and yes, you found his love of checkered pyjama pants adorable). As soon as you tugged his pyjama pants down, his cock sprung out, slapping his stomach lightly.
“Fuck, look how hard you get me, darling,” he praised, stroking himself a few times before lining himself up with your drooling hole. He smirked as he teased the tip of his cock against your folds, watching you make a mess of the sheets underneath you just from how wet you were alone once again. “Looks like you’ve been missing me too, hm darling?”
“So bad,” you agreed with a whimper, which turned straight into a moan as he started to push the head of his cock in. He let you get adjusted to him as you slowly took him inch by inch until you were full with his thick cock, walls stretching to accommodate his size.
“F-fuck, so f..full,” you choked out as he started to move slowly, warm hands coming to hold your hips as he gently started fucking you in the candlelight.
“But you take it so well, darling,” he cooed softly, fucking you with a bit more force now. “Such a good girl, fuck. Look at you, taking my cock so deep.”
“Mmm,” you mindlessly babbled, his fat cock causing you to lose all inhibitions as he (literally) fucked you stupid. “Oh, b-big–”
As you squeaked out whatever words you could form, he let out a low groan himself, starting to really pound your warm, tight hole. You could feel his tip brushing up against that spongy spot inside of you, which in return caused you to start moaning almost helplessly.
“Right there?” He teased, watching your face contort in pure bliss and pleasure. “That feel good, darling? Jesus, you’re so pretty…”
He choked out a few incohesive curses as he felt you tighten up around him while he talked you through it, clearly already close from him plowing your cunt for just a few minutes. This was usually the best type of sex between you and Jonathan — whenever you two would just ravish each other in bed all…lovingly. Extra points if it was romantic like this; under the candlelight in a power outage.
“Yes! Fuck, keep going, Jon,” you hoarsely screamed out as he fucked you raw, slamming his cock into your tight little cunt as you got close to your second orgasm and he was following right behind you.
“So tight,” he mumbled. “Perfect fucking pussy, so fucking good—”
“Gon’ cum..I’m gonna–!” You whined before your vision went white, cunt clenching down around his length as you drenched him and the sheets.
Jonathan looked down in awe as a clear liquid poured out of you, spilling all over him, his cock, and the sheets. The sight of you squirting that much sent his brain into overdrive as he gave a few more sloppy thrusts before spurting his warm, sticky cum onto your plush walls. As he filled your cunt, he let out a rather loud groan, gripping your hips so tight it almost hurt.
For a moment, all was still and silent as the two of you caught your breaths in the now slightly stuffy bedroom that smelt like a mix of sex and whatever pumpkin-spiced and cinnamon-scented candles you had going. Jonathan was the first to speak as he finally pulled out of you, careful not to hurt you, and pulled you close into his arms the second he laid back down beside you.
“I’m never going to stop you from getting your candles ever again,” he decided jokingly, kissing the top of your head.
“See,” you said proudly, “they set the mood and they smell good.”
“True,” he said, pausing for a moment before looking down at the soaked bedding then back at you with a smile. “So, we should probably clean the sheets…”
taglist ->
@girlinterrupted505 @ciriceimpera @jordyn-yeager @thevelvetvampyre @galactict3a
@xanaxiii @nocturnest @psylrd @bloodandglitter207 @humbuginmybones
@oceanstem @futurefamousdeadmusician @jonathancraneslittlepet @esotericdoe
@kpopgirlbtssvt
@ll4n4 @ilovetoxicfictionalmen @the-buddy-things @ellebellebarnes @wiseyouthinfluencer
@abprill @minedofmoria @strangeobsessed @5tud10-54r4h @franzine-xii
@stsrfujid @psylrd @eyraaaaaae @nyxxie-pooh @momoewn
@fauxcongenialite @ceruleanrainblues @o0laura @fiona-my-love @cranecat
@hfidnnf
#cillian murphy#cillian murphy x reader#cillian x reader#cillian fic#cillian murphy fanfic#cillian murphy imagine#cillian x fem!reader#jonathan crane x reader#cillian fanfic#jonathan crane x female reader#jonathan crane x y/n#jonathan crane x fem!reader#jonathan crane x you#jonathan crane smut#jonathan crane fanfic#dr jonathan crane#jonathan crane#jonathan crane x f!reader#scarecrow x reader#scarecrow x you#cillian murphy smut#cillian murphy fanfiction#cillian murphy fic#cillian smut#cillian x y/n#cillian fluff#cillian murphy x you#cillian murphy fluff#cillian murphy x f!reader#cillian murphy x fem!reader
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I started doodling greek gods, it's over for me. I have to accept that I'm officially addicted to epic the musical
#doodle dump#epic the musical#athena#4 years.... 4 years only doodling random stfuff#now look at me drawing again#this one is only sketch BUT I'M ACTUALLY TRYING TO WORK ON SOMETHING???#2019 dorothy is back lord have mercy on me#going back to drawing made me remember how much I hate painting#Im working on something that look almost exactly as I pictured BUT I CANT PAINT FOR SHIT#I just know the second i put some colors it will ruin the drawing#maybe I should turn all my works on coloring book typa shit so other people can paint for me lol#went in a long rant about something unrelated to the doodle aint that amazing#btw this is my first time drawing an owl and im actually proud#(also unrelated but GOD have i missed posting random shit and then going onto long rants on the tags)#back to epic the musical: sometimes I'll be listening to some song and just think “wow i could do a funny comic about this-”#LIKE HOW TF AM I BACK TO THIS?? ITS HAMILTON ALL OVER AGAIN I NEED REHAB CALL THE POLICE CALL THE CHURCH CALL MY THERAPIST
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hey guys, someone just sent me a weird ass ask claiming my incredibly close friend cherri @cherrifire secretly hate me and is talking abt me behind my back. i was not the only person to get one of these identical slanderous asks. i’ve already blocked the anon but like. open letter to them, and for the benefit of anyone else who gets an ask like this….
1) anon, you’re genuinely fucking stupid
2) hysterical to send this when i was actively chatting w her, while we were in the process of fleshing out yet another renchanting au, something we have done all day every day for… gosh, how long has it been now? nearly two years? i would say that it was really bad timing to send this ask to me while i was actively chatting aus w her but there really isn’t any moment you could have sent this that i wouldn’t have been.
3) if you thought i wasn’t gonna call bullshit and snitch immediately you don’t know shit about me or cherri, which, granted, is evident by the ask in general, but you really are stupid
4) if a gc like this existed—which it does not, bc cherri is not like this and would not do this—i would be in it. this idiot doesn’t even know im cherri’s emotional support writer. do you have any idea how many gcs and servers she’s dragged me into w her.
5) get your facts right cherri talks shit about me to my face. this is mutual. fake ass fan. if you were a real cherri friend you would know this smh
6) no, actually, you’re right, she definitely hates me. that’s why i met her irl literally like 3 months ago on her invitation, we hung out for a genuine week, spent basically the whole time arm in arm or hand in hand. this is also why we were planning a second meetup last night. you idiot. you fool. you complete and utter moron
anyway, if anyone gets this ask:
it’s complete bullshit. theyre sending this to cherri’s best friends for some godforsaken reason. it’s very weird and deeply cringe. also incredibly poorly planned. idk how many ppl you sent this to, but a few of us are in a gc and we have been making fun of this ask for like an hour (anon, im one of cherri’s friends and she’s been telling a small group of friends about you— lol. lmao even)
anyway like. to reiterate. cherri’s one of my best friends, she’s absolutely lovely and i’m lucky every day to know her. we hang out and chat constantly and we’ve met irl and it was an incredible experience i would love to repeat. i have told her things i have not fuckin told anyone else and you could not otherwise waterboard out of me. i love talking to her all the time and i miss her when she’s busy for even like, an hour. i love writing w her and creating things w her. she’s an incredibly bright spot in my life, often the first person i think of upon waking and the last i think of before i sleep. she is kind and funny and i love her a lot.
i’m a bitch tho so like @ this anon go fuck yourself. you better hope that when you die that the devil finds you before i do. sending this ask to a bunch of our friends, trying to turn the people she cares about against her, and for what? you clearly don’t know her well enough to be talking like this. trying to ruin my friend’s reputation and friendships w a vague as hell and entirely baseless copy paste is super fucking weird. why would you do this? and like, do you think we were born yesterday to fall for this? i’m insulted for her for whatever it was you were trying to pull and i’m insulted on behalf of myself and everyone else you sent this to that you think we’re as stupid as you are. what is your damage. get a hobby.
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The Old Guard Fic Recs
So I've been a long time lurker within the fandom without ever getting particularly involved, but I wanted to show some appreciation for some of the super talented people who go here, because I have read a lot of incredible TOG fic.
Most (probably all) of these authors have loads of other amazing fics, but I've tried to just chose one from each, to keep the list a vaguely reasonable length. Although then I cheated and did some honourable mentions.
** just a note to say I started this list year (s) ago and forgot about it until literally today when I saw fic recs going round. Any of these fics I haven’t put a description for it’s because I didn’t do it at the time, and if I go back to reread them all this would never be posted, not through any lack of affection or enjoyment **
If any writers want tagging/ untagging etc please let me know! (i knew/ could find some blogs more easily than others lol)
Within Canon
Old Olives by aeli_kindara
Garden of Gethsemane mention = instant tears
Death in Her Hands by superblackmarket
Nile's growing relationship with Joe and Nicky. All of their fics are so beautifully written, but I especially love Nile's relationship with the boys and her facing her own immortality.
Honourable mention: Station to Station
Between the Hour and the Age by hauntedjaeger (@hauntedfalcon)
Andy! Nile!
Ouroboros by CypressSunn (@cypresssunns)
Set after the film, literally just read it.
compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness and patience by Jack_R
A pair of early days Joe Nicky fics that reminds me of 'my wife is a bitch and i love her so much'
let's give them something to talk about by lacecat
When The Cherries White With Blossoms, Be Ready & Be Brave by chapstickaddict
Unearthed by merle_p
I think this is one of the most kudosed fics in the AO3 tag, but it deserves the hype!
Kidnapping for Dummies by Amiril
Similar to above, already very popular, but great and very funny!
The Last Man on Earth by Survivah (@optimismology)
I will admit I don't normally go for Booker/Nile, but this fic sold it to me. Looking at them and their developing relationship as the newer immortals.
Canon Divergent
Retrograde by Pinkninja
I mean this fic is the Big Bitch of the fandom for me, if you haven't already read this, where have you been? But also if you haven't already read this I am so jealous, read it and take your time with it and bawl your eyes out over it and appreciate the joy of reading it for the first time. The level of detail and planning in this fic is indescribable. It follows Nicky trapped in a Time Travellers Wife style life where he jumps back and forth throughout his own timeline, whilst Joe lives his life in chronological order. Exquisitely written.
If Never Again, If Every Day by gallifreyburning and takiki16 (@gallifreyburning, @takiki16)
Another absolute Titan of the genre. I know you’ve already been recommended this 500 times, what more can I say.
though I'm dying to (fall in love with you) by yusufsmoon (@babygirlyusuf)
Travellers from an Antique Land by kaydeefalls (@kaydeefalls)
Andy, not Quỳnh, trapped under the sea. I love all their fics.
AUs
Makes Me Want You More by Sixthlight (@sixth-light)
Perhaps not the typical favourite choice from Sixthlight, one of my absolute favourite TOG authors, but one that is funny and lovely and sweet that I keep coming back to. Shorter than many of theirs but perfectly formed.
pumpkin gnocci verse (series) by Liadan14 (@bewires)
I mean it's got estranged family, suspenseful chronological structure, cooking, spies, intimate and honest sex scenes, hilarious misunderstandings involving keeping halal, lovely found family moments, and the actual recipes used. What more do you want.
The Reality of Everything by Marbletopempire
One of the fics I desperately waited for each instalment for. Very funny, lots of sexual tension, plenty of Cate Blanchette spotting opportunities.
sine qua non by mellyflori (@werebearbearbar)
One of the first of their fics I read, with a very sweet build up of misunderstanding to friends to lovers, involving growing up, discovering sexuality, trying to be nice about your best friend's bad boyfriend, and a long suffering sofa.
The Brooklyn Verse (series) by GayLittleEarring, yusufsmoon, nicelytousled (@marwankenzarisgaylittleearring @babygirlyusuf @nicelytousled)
I saw the creation of this on Tumblr before it was a fic, and it lived up to every expectation. Very sweet and sincere, with lots of great discussions about art, whilst also very funny (Lamp the free loader, Joe sending thirst traps out of irritation) and hot. ItalianAmericanNickyfromBrooklyn and Joe my beloveds.
a good (eighth) impression by deaniker
I love a good hook-up to 'oh shit I have feelings' fic, and this is even more entertaining because Nicky is Lykon's ex, and Joe has very much seen him at his worst.
You do not have to be good by emjee (MerryHeart) (@emjee)
At one point a tumblr post about Joe the Professor and Nicky the Priest got very popular, and I'm not sure if this fic was inspired by that, but is one of the great fics with similar concepts. Such a lovely, gentle fic about love and also identity, featuring also Nile and a very sweet snail.
it's such an almighty sound (series) by raedear (@raedear)
A secret service AU that goes full enemies to lovers, with lots of tension, plotting, betrayal, frustration, and tenderness.
Honourable mention: take my hand (you got me rockin' and rollin')
fight 'til the day that i die 'verse by incurableromancer
Suspenseful, noir, super hero AU that has such a great writing style and is very atmospheric.
if you do take a thief by knoepfchen (@knoepfchen)
Cluedo style AU with lots of fun twists and slow building of backstories, with the whole gang.
Honourable mention: life is not the things that we do (it's who we're doing them with)
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christ alive I love my parents and I'm glad I got to see them but they are just. so fucking exhausting
#i've identified something about them#which is this#they genuinely do not grasp that other people have Real Experiences that don't map to their view of the world#like it's not that they don't view those experiences as valid or whatever#it's that they genuinely and truly do not grok that other people have experiences they don't approve of#like that the experiences actually happen and aren't made up#“why do you insist on referring to X with they/them pronouns?”#“because they don't identify with a gender”#“well you're either one or the other”#“well they don't feel that way and they don't identify with a gender”#“well you're one or the other”#“okay but literally they do not feel that way and you not liking that doesn't change it like wtf and also sex and gender aren't the same”#etc etc etc ad fucking nauseum#fucks sake#also this is always my mom who drops this shit#my dad just pretends like nothing is happening and ignores the conversation like the wuss he is lol#to be fair i get it because i would not go up against my mom either if i was him because he has to live with her stubborn ass#it's probably obvious but they blithely misgendered me the whole goddamn time they were here#UNLESS THEY WERE IN FRONT OF OTHER PEOPLE IN PUBLIC LOLOLOLOLOLOL#HMMMMMMMMM#FUNNY HOW THAT WORKS#anyway fuck them and i hope they get home safe because they're old as fuck and probably going to die in the next 5-10 years#and when they do it will be terrible and also part of me will be relieved and idk how to feel about that tbh#so like#yeah#:/#covington-shenanigans gets personal#(to be clear they just didn't use pronouns for me at all in public)#(they have never once gendered me correctly and probably never will)
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hii same anon again! feel free to ignore if you don’t want to do this ofc - but a perfect lake day with coryo but then you can tell something’s off. he then finally tells you about how he was reassigned to district two and doesn’t have any choice but to go and you two are both so heartbroken. and then maybe having to actually say goodbye? :’) guess i want to cry lol
⋆౨ৎ𝓹𝓮𝓪𝓬𝓮𝓴𝓮𝓮𝓹𝓮𝓻 𝓬𝓸𝓻𝔂𝓸 𝓫𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝓼 𝓾𝓹 𝔀𝓲𝓽𝓱 𝔂𝓸𝓾⋆౨ৎ
𝓯𝓮𝓶 𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓭𝓮𝓻 𝔁 𝓬𝓸𝓻𝓲𝓸𝓵𝓪𝓷𝓾𝓼 𝓼𝓷𝓸𝔀
Coriolanus’ lips found your fingers clasped with his hand, and you smiled slow and soft like sunlight. His other arm was resting lazily over your hips, the weight a comforting thing as his chest supported your back. It was perfect. Everything about it was perfect.
Truthfully, you loved every allotted day off he spent with you. It was a treasure amidst a sea of mundane days filled with labor and exhaustion. He smoothed every rough spot for you, made every ordinary trouble melt away.
Turning in his arms, you let your cheek fall against his chest, the metal of his dog tags cool from your time in the lake. Many a time you had fallen asleep with the rectangles pressed to your skin and awoken with his blood type imprinted there.
He let you move against him, quiet and stoic as always. Today in particular he'd been reserved but you assumed it was stress, not minding the lack of talk. Only when you were settled did he adjust his arms, one large hand splaying over your bare back. You hadn’t bothered to redress, and nor did he.
It was funny- a month ago he would have had his clothes on immediately after drying off, wary of the surroundings of nature he was so unfamiliar with. Now he sat upright, not against the tree like anyone from town would have done, but it didn’t matter. As long as you fit between his arms nothing else mattered.
Picking at the blanket underneath, you murmured, “I hope it can always be like this.” A bird’s whistle carried from the trees, flung out into the expanse of the glassy lake. His fingers stilled where they had been roving up and down, causing you to look up at him, meet his stormy blue eyes.
Right now, they were filled with thunderclouds of oceanic magnitude, and you sat up straight, brow knitting. Was he upset? Worried about something? "Coryo?"
The lake lapped calmly at the pebbly shore, the opposite of the mass of dread circulating and hardening in your chest. It was a buildup; you knew it was. He kept your fingers laced with his when he murmured, "I'm being transferred."
It felt as though someone had shoved you off the edge of something dark and looming, and now your body was flailing helplessly, plummeting to the jagged rocks of the unknown. Hovering clouds darkened the spot of sunshine you'd been lying in, and goosebumps rippled over your arms.
"Transferred?" You could only manage the single word, trying to leave out the accompanying emotions. Your efforts were in vain.
He gave a single nod, and you let out a little breath, looking away. The only that could have shocked you more than meeting was him leaving you. He'd looked so out of place that first night at the Hob, as if he didn't know what to do with himself.
It was hardly the same man staring back at you now, the lines of his face stiffened.
You sat all the way up, moving closer to him, knees pushing his thighs further apart. He took your hips again, trying to get you to stay still, but you refused, determined as ever. Framing his face with your palms, you searched him desperately. "What do you mean by transferred?"
"I took the advancement test. I passed. Now they want to send me to Two."
Your poor heart began to ache all over again. Every word from his mouth was eating at it like sugar to a rotting tooth. "Two."
"Sweetheart." He gently held your wrists, pulling your hands away from his cheeks. The more you looked at him the more you hurt. But you'd never been able to tear yourself from him yet. Though your time with him had been brief, Coriolanus had quickly become your favorite person, the only one you wanted to be with. You wanted a sea of endless nights cuddled to his chest, or under his arm at the Hob. Gent's girl is what the other Peacekeepers called you, lifting their bottles and grinning.
Tears began to prick your eyes. "You never even told me you took the test."
"I didn't know they would ship me out," he said with an edge, swallowing. "I thought maybe I'd be promoted here and get to stay. But they want me somewhere else."
"You're leaving me." It felt so selfish to say it that way. The man you loved was escaping the mousetrap of District Twelve and you were condemning for it. In all honesty, this was a chance you knew you would have jumped at had it been you.
Coriolanus breathed out through his nose, and you suppressed a chill both from the temperature and the look on his face. He didn't reach for you, letting you have your space as you tried not to cry. It was only when the first crystal drop leaked from your eye that his hands found your waist, pulling you back into his chest.
Your tears soaked his chest, and you took in sharp breaths, trying not to go hysterical. It was bad enough that he was comforting you when you were supposed to be excited for him.
All you could think of were the things you would miss. The barely-there lilt of his lips whenever you said something sweet or funny, The feel of his hands on you. Soft confessions he made when it was dark in your small home save for a candle, kissing your forehead when he left to get back in time for curfew. The way he kissed- like he'd been hungry his entire life and only you could satiate him.
A choked little sob bubbled up and darted past your lips when you realized exactly how alone you'd be when he was gone. Family long passed, being with him had been the closest you'd felt to home in a long while. Where do you go when your home is a million miles away?
To the bed he'd held you in, you gathered. To the places he used to be. It would be a measly substitute for what you really wanted.
"I'll write you," he promised, adjusting the daisy he'd plucked and put in your hair earlier. His body was growing taut, and you knew he was fighting internally as much as you were. "We'll...it'll be okay."
Maybe somehow you had always known he wouldn't be here forever. Given his origins somewhere that may as well have been universes away, you knew he wasn't destined for life in a place like this. With the simplicities you had learned to make enough.
You could almost see the path the future embroidered before you. Crinkled letters under your pillow because that was the closest you'd get to holding him again, hours emptied of his presence. It drained you like a rainy day, and you slid your arms around his torso. His chin dropped to your hair, one hand at your waist and the other fingering the strap of your damp crocheted undershirt.
A plea for him to stay nearly rose on your lips, and you lifted your head, wishing you were brave enough to say it. But you knew nothing could stop it now. The echoes of your desire were fading into the background as he breathed in through his nose, pressing his forehead down onto your head.
The way he held you spoke volumes, and you mentally penned it to remember for late. Your wet hair had been sticking to his chest like seaweed, and he brushed it behind your shoulder. "I...I'll miss you." Though his voice was steady, you could hear the cracks in the foundation. "I love you," he was really saying.
You allowed yourself one final sniffle before lifting your head, cupping his cheek and pressing your lips to his. His warm fingers found the nape of your neck over your hair, just holding you there until you pulled back. "I'll miss you too," you breathed, twin tears trickling from your eyes.
Ever since you knew him, you had watched the mask he'd worn as a young man from the Capitol chink and crumble away. Perhaps he had realized he didn't need it here. Not where humanity was in its barest bones, the natural world a pure comfort. In a romantic way you knew it was you too. You gave him all you had in the way of love, unearthing the undeniable fact that he cared for you that way too.
Coriolanus' hands found your cheeks, and he kissed you once more in a way full of longing. He searched your eyes, letting his forehead lean against yours. In that moment he looked almost desperate, matching you. Without closing his eyes, his lips pressed to yours in the tiniest of pecks. "I love you."
Maybe that would keep you warm at night when he was nothing but memory.
#I hope this is okay#coriolanus snow#coriolanus snow x reader#coriolanus snow fanfiction#coriolanus snow imagine#coriolanus snow x you#ballad of songbirds and snakes#tbosas#coriolanus snow fic#coriolanus snow fluff#coriolanus snow tom blyth#tbosas fanfiction#tbosas x reader#tbosas x you#thg series#thg fanfiction#thg#hunger games#the hunger games#the hunger games fanfiction#the hunger games trilogy#the hunger games series#thg tbosas#the hunger games the ballad of songbirds and snakes#the ballad of songbirds and snakes#milliesfishes coryo
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The importance of Leorio
Leorio has been a character who was often dismissed, mocked and minimized for not having flashy abilities like everybody else, which is why he was often seen as not important but this is far from the truth. Leorio does bring something very crucial to the table and those are his kindness and honesty. Let me break it down:
1) He's the heart of the time and the main reason why it hasn't fallen apart
⭐️; Almost everybody says Gon is the one that brings everybody together and while there's some truth in it, it's actually Leorio who does it. Notice how the moment they part ways, Kurapika slowly falls into darkness and acts way more aloof than before. He doesn't crack jokes as often as before, doesn't trust anybody and is always serious. Hence, he spent the whole Chairman arc ignoring everybody until Leorio asked help to bring his ass outside and surprisingly, Kurapika is thankful of it.
He knows Leorio is an important source to him and to many people, and it can be seen with Gon and Killua. Overtime, Gon is more likely to act selfish and distant to everybody, not caring if his actions would have terrible consequences while Killua has to fulfill the role of the responsable one, he doesn't get to be a kid and it's taking a toll on both of them (which almost ruined their friendship) but the moment they're around Leorio, they're more relaxed and get to act like kids without worrying about fights. And he's also the main reason why Gon and Killua became friends, and Kurapika joined the group, all because of a dumb argument they had lol.
. • °⛓✧༺ ༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚⛓. • °⛓✧༺ ༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚⛓
2) He brings the best in his friends
⭐️; Something I've noticed is that Gon and Kurapika's moods and morals were at their best in the Hunter Exam, where they've been teaming up with Leorio. See, neither Gon and Kurapika have a reason to keep helping him, in fact, at worst he slow them down as he almost cost them a challenge but they still stick by his side even when they have the option to abandon him.
The fact they're willing to put themselves in danger for him really shows that Leorio did manage to bring their more selfless side by just being his over-the-top self and being unintentionally funny to which I'm sure they find it very endearing and make them want to help him, especially after hearing his real reason to be a hunter. Another important point is Gon waiting for him to catch his breath instead of running like Killua suggested, the normally selfish Gon would listen to Killua as Leorio didn't offered him much but once again, it made Gon's kinder side come to shine.
. • °⛓✧༺ ༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚⛓. • °⛓✧༺ ༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚⛓
3) He's the wake up call Killua needed
⭐️; An important aspect of his character that many people overlook is that he was the key for Killua's development, just as Illumi was manipulating Killua, he stepped in and said the wake up call Killua needed: "You're Gon's friend", it briefly snapped him out of it and made Killugon's bond even stronger.
. • °⛓✧༺ ༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚⛓. • °⛓✧༺ ༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚⛓
4) His kindness, honesty and bravery are his greatest weapons
⭐️; Leorio isn't the strongest member of his team nor has impressive nen abilities but one thing we can't deny is how his qualities (indirectly and unintentionally) earned him the love of his (powerful) friends and allies, the respect of veteran and legendaries hunters and the attention of Hisoka. You see, at first I found it odd how many characters started to like/respect Leorio even when they mostly saw his abrasive side but now after re-reading it, it all make sense; he shows the values a hunter must have and the values people needed to see. How so? Well, Gon and Kurapika are people who value honesty and loath people who goes against what's right for them; shallowness and dishonesty. And both of them sensed good vibes in Leorio and saw his kindness in action when he didn't realized it. Leorio used a jerkass façade in his introduction but it was quickly broken when he tried to save a guy who was about to fall in the water and quickly grabbed Gon's leg. This moment was what made Gon and Kurapika realize he's actually a selfless young man and it won't be the last time they'll see his kind actions. When he took care of the examiner, the guy said he was treated with great compassion by Leorio (who was embarrassed by the reveal) and was the reason why he passed the exam, of course neither Gon nor Kurapika are impressed by the reveal because they already know he's a softie. Kindness is an important key to be a great and respected hunter, because kindness is what keeps the world spinning.
Later in the Hunter Exam, Kurapika confronts Leorio about his jerkass façade and why he really wants to be a hunter. Even when Leorio acts like a shallow man, Kurapika no longer buys it because he knows he's actually a humble man with good intentions so when Leorio tells him the truth, he's satisfied with it and grows closer to him because Leorio is what Kurapika really admires in someone (but that doesn't stop him to sass him).
Killua also took note of Leorio's character. After he saw Killua kill a man, he was understandably scared of him but he doesn't treat him like a monster. He continues to treat him like a kid and still act abrasive to him, just like to everybody else. This continues to be like this for the rest of the serie, he acts like the adult Killua needed and he defended him from Illumi, without caring he might get killed by him. This genuinely touches Killua a lot, to the point he considers him his friend and threatened Milluki to not hurt Gon, Leorio and Kurapika. What Killua valued the most about Leorio were his kindness, bravery and honesty. Even when he knew Killua is an assassin, he doesn't act like a doormat to stay on his good side nor act two-faced around him, he's still his loud but tender self around him too which (secretly) earn Killua's genuine respect and care.
About the hunters, this one is actually the funniest yet the most impressive one because all Leorio did was punching Ging and awkwardly admit what he has been doing but still tell them he wants to see Gon healthy again and this hilariously earned the respect of legendaries and famous hunters, beating veterans like Bisky, Linne, Ging, and so on. Leorio doesn't realize they respect him for being shamelessly honest and not caring about getting in trouble if it meant his friends are alright. He got all the qualities Ging doen't have and it's his tenderness towards Gon, his dedication to his loved ones and goals, his kindness, his care for other people, etc...
Now Hisoka... We all know he's interested in power but Leorio doesn't even have a strong power and he isn't interested in getting stronger because he wants to be a doctor. So why would a guy like Hisoka be interested in a normal dude like Leorio? Well, when Hisoka was testing the characters, Leorio passed but why? He passed because of his bravery, he and Leorio knew he had 0 chances in beating the clown but he put his own life at risk to bring some justice and this trait was what Hisoka admired in him and decided to spare him when it would make more sense to kill him. Leorio, unknowingly shows a trait Hisoka respects the most and this was best seen when Hisoka killed some of the spider members to spite Chrollo as a punishment to be a "coward" (using the crowd to fight him instead of fighting himself). Leorio has never used someone else to fight for him or to hide behind them as a shield and it's very remarkable for a guy like him. And it's not the first time he caught a villain's attention, Illumi took note of him aswell and it was once again for his bravery. It surprised him how Leorio wasn't scared of him at all.
In the end, his friends ended up paying Leorio's kindness back to him. Gon with continuing to help him in the Hunter Exam, saving his life and caring for him. Kurapika with helping him in the badge challenge (when he had nothing to gain in exchange), looking after him and being more open to him (allowing himself to let his guard down and be his sassy but kind and playful self around Leorio and the kids). Killua with killing Leorio's opponent (Killua could've killed anybody else but HE choose Leorio's opponent of all people wich I firmly believe he wanted to help Leorio back), being a trusted ally to him and caring for him.
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5) He's the greatest ally you could ask for
⭐️; Leorio compensate his lack of combat skill by being a trustworthy ally who will always be there for his friends, he lend an ear to listen and give advices, put his life on the line to give them time and/or to fool his enemies, look after them, reach out to them, and so on. His presence is enough to make Gon, Killua and Kurapika safe and more relaxed. When he pretends to be an angry boss, you can tell Killua and Gon were very happy to see him and know they can always count on him when they need it. This gets better when Killua calls Leorio in the Election Arc, because he knows Leorio will always have his back in case Gon isn't available.
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6) He's a great friend
⭐️; He's the friend Gon, Killua and Kurapika needed. He manages to be a good balance for everybody.
🎣; With Gon, he's the (older) male figure Gon needed in his life, he cares for him and is very protective of him, he guides him in areas Gon can't handle it (such as making money or having businessman skills) but still act like a fun brotherly figure who gets into silly arguments with him in the Hunter Exam but when things get serious, he drops everything and makes sure Gon will be safe or get what Gon needs (seeing his father). He's a reliable resource Gon can be safe with because he's the only man who he got to see more often while he rarely saw Kite and Ging was barely around his life.
🛹; With Killua, well, he's everything Illumi failed to be; caring, understanding, protective (in a genuine and healthy way), honest, selfless and so on. Despite not interacting much, Leorio and Killua has a lot in common (I'll talk about it in another blog) and Leorio is the second person who Killua clicked with the most and after getting to know Leorio more, Killua finally gets to act like a kid without being punished but also asks Leorio for help/advices when he sees he can't do it alone and knows Leorio is a softie who will always be there for him when he'll need it. It speaks volume how much Killua trusts in him when Killua always come for him when he's in a problem he can't do it by himself. (Their friendship are so underrated 😔)
⛓️; With Kurapika they both get to open up with each other and reveal private parts of their backstory. After confirming Leorio is a good guy, Kurapika started to joke around more often and appreciates his precense even more, in YorkNew, Kurapika slowly became more aloof until he saw his friends again and opened up to them again. Leopika still look after each other in spite of Kurapika's change with Leorio's moments of maturity and his compassion are what keeps Kurapika on line. Even after Kurapika has been ignoring Leorio's calls, he still deeply cares for him and will forever be thankful of his kindness.
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TLTR: Leorio is epic whether you like it or not.
#hunter x hunter#hxh#hxh leorio#leorio hunter x hunter#leorio#leorio paladiknight#leopika#leorio x kurapika#kurapika#kurapika kurta#hxh kurapika#kurapika hunter x hunter#hxh gon#gon freecss#gon hunter x hunter#killua zoldyck#hxh killua#killua hunter x hunter#hisoka#hxh hisoka#hisoka hunter x hunter#hisoka morrow
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Starting a reblog game: RB w/ your own outsiders OC!
if enough folks do, I’ll draw them together or something lol, it’ll be fun!
So these are blatant self inserts for my sister and me
(Info & backstories under the cut because I’ve put waaaay too much thought into this)
and again, pls do reblog/tag me w/ your own Outsiders original/self insert characters! (Drawings and/or written descriptions!) Making OCs was one of my favorite things to do as a kid, so I figured it’d be fun to bring it back here lol
(And to reiterate- if enough of ya’ll do this I’ll draw ‘em all together like a greaser-sona gang! So don’t be shy ok??)
-got sent to Tulsa from Seattle in 1961 at ages 13 and 11 to live with their mildly neglectful uncle, due to their mother getting cancer and being unable to properly care for them. Their father was lost at sea when they were little, so they had no one else to go to.
-in Tulsa they go by their mother’s surname, Biondi, instead of their father’s, because interracial marriage isn’t legalized in Oklahoma until ‘67. They try to pass as just Italian. This works better for Naomi, who takes more after their mother than their father in looks.
-Naomi is good friends w/ Ponyboy- she relates to him a lot, from the dislike of fighting to the love for sunsets (legit Ponyboy reminds me of my sister so much irl) (She’s also low-key got a crush on him and Sodapop which is pretty funny)
-Jesse is closer to Two-Bit, Dally, Steve, and Soda. And he really likes fights. They’re exciting and make him feel tough. When he stops to think about it it does make him a little uneasy how much he’s grown to like them, but usually he just ignores that
-Naomi disapproves of crime. Jesse used to oppose it too, but the more time he spends without good role models and parental figures, the more his morels loosen. Tries hard to be a good example for Naomi though
-Jesse met the gang through Sodapop originally- they were thirteen and some Socs were jumping Soda, and Jesse jumped in and helped him out. Soda explained to him what the deal with Socs and greasers is, because there’s no greasers up North
-Naomi met the gang separately through being classmates with Ponyboy. They were working together on a school project, one with him writing and her drawing
-So Jess and Naomi spent a solid few months hanging out with different members of the same gang, completely unaware they had the same group. They eventually end up running into each other at the Curtis house, and both are totally shocked. Two-Bit, who knew the whole time, nearly died laughing
-Naomi is friends with both Socs and greasers, because she isn’t really either- she’s financially a greaser, but she has a crazy high GPA for someone who has ADHD and dyslexia in the 60s, and besides that, she just doesn’t like what she sees as pointless rivalry
-Jess loves pointless rivalry. At least until people start getting hurt. Then he starts to get angry.
#the outsiders#the outsiders 1983#rambling#my art#the outsiders fanart#the outsiders oc#reblog game#greaser#oc#oc art#kinda a self portrait honestly#cas’s newsprints
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imo the glasses on the new guy are a nod to jack’s eye sockets LOL but i def think it would be interesting if his design incorporates elements from characters other than jack because there’s so many cool designs in the movie. also the way i thought he was ace in black and white what with the skeleton costume and that fuckin ass grin haha
[Referencing this post!]
I think that's totally possible too! The glasses could be interpreted both ways, maybe even at the same time. The lenses are definitely big enough to invoke Jack's large eye sockets, but the style just so happens to also invoke Dr. Finkelstein's goggles (albeit the size of them is much smaller).
I did see a theory that the new Halloween character isn't twisted!Jack at all, but rather twisted!Dr. Finkelstein, since he could count as a "villain" in the original film. The suit and gloves are very "Jack", but some people have pointed out that the glasses, the headpiece, and the teeth also match up with the doctor's. ashfbaiyldbas THAT WOULD BE FUNNY IF IT WAS TRUE... Turns out everyone was thirsting for the grumpy old man/j The suit and gloves, however, is most definitely more Jack-coded. I think it's still too early to tell right now; we'll have to wait and see how they present him in future content. However, I still do personally think it's more likely to be Jack just because he is much more iconic.
ADLHBAFSOYASIYFA YOU THOUGHT THAT WAS ACE/?????? ? ? ???? ? Ain't no way he got that drip... 😭 (I mean, the new character did drop on Ace's birthday in Japan so I can sort of understand the confusion??) I wonder if the new guy will have a mischievous, kinda cocky personality like Ace?? Aaaah, so excited to learn more about him...
The concept of a white-haired Ace makes me think of an AU where Ace and Deuce aren't knocked out by Styx agents in book 6 and are able to follow Yuu and co. to the Island of Woe. Maybe instead of Riddle getting drained of his energy, it's Ace (and thus he is the one who emerges with white hair, not Riddle).
#twst#twisted wonderland#Ace Trappola#Jack Skellington#Dr. Finkelstein#Doctor Finkelstein#nightmare before christmas#disney twisted wonderland#disney twst#notes from the writing raven#twst jp#twisted wonderland jp#jp spoilers#twst halloween#twisted wonderland halloween#Yuu#book 6 spoilers#Riddle Rosehearts#Deuce Spade
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Okay, but what about female reader accidental pregnancy by Ruan Mei? How would she react and deal with it? That's always been a thought in my head dunno why
That’s interesting! I feel like ruan mei would be a bit taken back because she’s very well educated about the in’s and out’s of pregnancy. ruan mei made sure she was extremely careful about not getting you pregnant and it seemed like her efforts failed.
the real question is, will ruan mei accept it? yes! this is an opportunity to study and nurture human life from a baby to an adult which is something she has really never done before. although, she’s at a loss when it comes to loving it because she herself struggles with her emotions and expressing them. ruan mei knows that humans thrive and grow from love and support and yet, she can’t really give that to the child. whichhh is whyyy you’re here to help her! like always, you teach ruan mei how to hold a baby, how to tell him/her that you love him/her —how to connect with him/her. when the baby gives ruan mei a smile full of nothing but gums, she finds herself smiling back with unexpected warmth in her stiff heart.
little by little, ruan mei becomes more knowing and less ignorant towards emotions like love, anger, and sadness. she’s gaining a better grasp of humanity through her child and learns about positive and negative feedback. if her baby is happy, she’s happy. how do you make a baby happy? by playing with them, buying them toys and games to help develop important skills like problem solving and critical thinking. when the baby first cried, she was at a lost and didn’t know what to do. that’s until you picked the crying baby up in your arms, gently rocked them, and cooed. ruan mei closely observes how the baby slowly stopped crying over time and became content from your gentle comfort. the first two times the baby cried, albeit awkward, she copied the exact gesture you did and she couldn’t quite get it. so she started simply humming a tune she often plays with her ruan. and just like that, the baby calms over time and appears nearly asleep. ruan mei concludes that the baby simmers down according to the specific parent’s style of comfort. the problem was that she tried to comfort the baby your way and it didn’t recognize her as you so it continued to cry. when ruan mei began to do it her own way through humming, the infant eventually adapts and recognizes her.
ruan mei would def do operant conditioning to learn more about the child’s behavior. i feel like she’d only reach out to the genius society members she’s in contact with for tips ( which is funny cus just like her, most of the genius society members are socially awkward ) at least screwllum tries to help. herta. .☠️
lol, the baby called ruan mei their mama for the first time which was also their first word. let me tell you, ruan mei felt the happiest she’s ever been. she got so overwhelmed by the pure feeling, she cried for the first time. a tear rolling down her face as she stared down at the giggling baby in shock! such a heart warming sight to be witnessed by you!!
all in all, ruan mei reconnects with her humanity more through her child and grows wit them! i think in this case ruan mei would be the child and the baby would be her teacher without even knowing it 😭 just know the child is gonna be a momma’s boy
sorry I rambled so much! this psychological study is sponsoreddddd byyyyyyyy. @crguang !!!
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