#the best way to put this is that it kinda helps you fully enjoy it without constantly comparing

[i-ideate]

How I enjoy adaptations!

Hey you! Yeah, you! Have you ever been afraid to watch, listen or read an adaptation of a media you are familiar with? Say, maybe, the Great Gatsby musical for fans of the book? Or perhaps the One Piece live action? Well don't worry cause I struggle with that too!

My solution to still enjoying the media adaptation without looking for bits to catch it out on (which we do subconsciously)(holding out on complaints till the end, at least), is to first experience it with the mindset that it is something completely different. Separate it from the source material for as long as possible. Then, once you're done with the [movie, book, song, show, whatever], review it and moments that stood out to you. Then you can start to pick it apart as much as you like!

I love to do this because it allows me to view the appeal of the adaptation from the perspective of both someone who has never interacted with the source material and as someone who knows it like the back of their hand! Then you can make your complaints, but still have the backup understanding from an independent media standpoint (if thats the proper way to phrase it?) of why these changes or cuts were made.

Does this work for everyone? Not at all! Can I guarantee this technique will even work for 5 seconds into the media? Never! But it is worth a shot. Even if I change my opinion on the media after reflection, I still enjoyed the experience of watching or listening or whatever-ing that media!

[celestie0]

gojo satoru x reader | college au [18+]

kickoff ch.12 how you get the girl

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

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

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

ᰔ chapter. 12/x (probably 18)

ᰔ words. 11.3k

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

nav. masterlist

☾·̩͙꙳ moodboard no.1 :: ♬.*ﾟplaylist

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

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

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

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

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

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

11:14am you: or be square?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You have to close your eyes though.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Maybe?”

“Yes. Maybe.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

He nods at you in approval.

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

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

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

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

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

And then the kickoff starts. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

1-1, even match.

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

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

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

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

2-1, UTokyo.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

3-1, UTokyo.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You shake your head and wait for his response.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

His eyes scan down the sideline until they find you. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You raise an eyebrow at him. “Yours?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Of what?” Your face twists with confusion.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

All you can do is watch.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

H–

Huh?!?!?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And then the halftime timer is up.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

3-2.

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

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

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

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

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

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

The stadium erupts with the momentum.

4-3, UTokyo. 

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

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

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

The referee chirped his whistle, and the kickoff began.

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

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

And the ball lands in the net. 

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

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

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

The referee chirps his whistle. 

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

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

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

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

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

5-4, UTokyo’s win.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

.

.

.

.

.

[end of kickoff ch12]

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

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

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

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

➸ you're all caught up!

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

taglist:

@megumisdivinedogs @witchbybirth @avatarl0v3r @mwtsxri @asherheed

@wynney @delulux3 @higurumapet @zombriesworld @xenop0p

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

@foulprincesscycle @luniunia @alekssashka7 @beabadobeee @thexmistress

@tsukikourito @pickuptruck01 @gabriiiiiiii @4y3sh4 @tiredflame132

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

@chwesuh-imnida @megumisthirdog @imjustaweirdnerd @angelicscribe

[taglist is closed]

[sister-lucifer]

hcs 4 toby giving bj 4 first time :3

Toby’s First Time Giving/Receiving a Blowjob Headcanons 

Ticci Toby x Gender Neutral Reader 

A/N: I know you probably meant Toby giving a blowjob for the first time but I wrote both because i can. enjoy the double feature

Genre: Smut headcanons 

Content/Warnings: Oral sex (obviously), Toby likes praise, face fucking, Toby gets a bit rough in his excitement but he doesn’t mean it, he’s just a feral, excitable horndog, scenarios for both AFAB and AMAB readers are included, use of dick, cock and cunt to describe genitalia

Like my writing? I take requests! NSFW or SFW for any fandoms in my bio (request rules + masterlist in pinned post)!

Also, please reblog! it’s free, takes two seconds, and really helps me out 

Feedback is encouraged and appreciated:)

Not fully proofread! Let me know if you see any errors!

Giving 

Oooohhh boy okay, listen 

He’s not exactly experienced 

Most of the people he went to high school with were incredibly put off by him and the like two who weren’t never went past making out 

He has no idea what he’s doing, you’ll have to teach him 

The good news? He’s very eager to learn 

If you have a dick he’ll try to deepthroat it IMMEDIATELY, regardless of the fact that he’ll choke like a fucking idiot, and you’ll have to practically yank him off of you 

If you have a cunt he’ll do the same thing except latching on way too fast and way too rough in a clumsy but genuine effort to pleasure you

Just hold tightly to his hair to keep him from ducking back down and gently instruct him to start slow 

You’ll have to be very detailed with your instructions, and he has no shame, so expect a lot of really specific questions 

“Should I-I keep flicking your clit with my tongue like th-that?” 

“Do you like w-when I circle your tip l-like that?” 

Etc, etc

And he’ll say it with 100% sincerity, because he really does want you to enjoy this

It takes him a minute to get the hang of it, but once he gets his rhythm he won’t stop until you’re begging him to 

It’s fun for him to watch you squirm and moan, it brings him just as much pleasure as it does you 

You can encourage him to keep going by scratching his head, running your fingers through his hair, and giving a little tug when he does something you particularly enjoy

Speaking of which, he responds very well to verbal feedback (re: praise) 

You can see his eyes light up when you call him a good boy or tell him he’s doing well 

And he’s willing to do whatever it takes to get him praise

Basically, he’s easy to train

Just keep telling him how well he’s doing, and be clear about what you enjoy 

He’s more than happy to comply 

Plus, it’s kinda hot to watch the drool and cum leak from the gash in his cheek as he eagerly laps up everything he can get from you

Receiving 

Well your first challenge will be getting him to sit still

He’s a hyperactive bastard and his excitement will manifest as restlessness 

It’s best to have him lying on his back to reduce the risk of possible injury, but he will still shake his legs and fidget with his sleeves as he watches you position yourself between his legs

He’ll try not to touch you at first because he’s not really sure what’s acceptable or not, instead opting to fumble with his fingers and gnaw on his knuckles 

He’ll be breathing heavily and mumbling to himself the whole time, before you’ve even gotten his cock out 

“I-I can’t believe you’re doing this for-for me…Y-You’re so nice to m-me…I-I don’t—fuck!—I don’t k-know what I’d do with-without you…”

And he’ll go on and on like that until you’ve sucked him so good he can’t talk 

He’ll forget his manners the closer he gets to cumming

He’ll get more and more needy and he’ll start to grab at your hair 

Unless you stop him, he’ll get rougher and rougher until he’s practically fucking your mouth, pulling and pushing your head back and forth by your hair and thrusting into your mouth 

He’ll have drool running down his chin and he won’t be able to keep his mouth shut, just completely desperate and messy

The best part is the way he’ll shamelessly beg to cum down your throat 

“Pleeeaaase, please, please, fuck—! I-It’s all I want, just let me—let me cum in your m-mouth, I need it! I-I’ve been a g-good boy, haven’t I?!”

If you don’t say yes he’ll literally cry 

But if you do, the absolute euphoria that’ll cross his face is more than worth it 

He’ll force you down on his cock as he releases down your throat, his back arching in an almost violent manner as he forces you to take everything he has to give

And he won’t let go until he’s completely done 

When you’re finally released from his death grip it’ll be because he’s gone limp, completely spent and barely conscious 

Give him a quick kiss before you go to clean up, he’ll lick your lips clean for you 

He’ll be riding that high for hours 

[azzibuckets]

want you for myself [paige bueckers]

paige bueckers x fem!reader

summary: some cute fluff where paige gets jealous of all the attention her brother is getting from you

a/n: i kinda rushed this so😭 it didn’t turn out the way i wanted

word count: 1.3k

masterlist

Normally, Paige loved how good you were with Drew. How whenever he started talking about school or basketball, you always raptly paid attention, asking questions and making jokes. She loved how gentle you were with him, how when he was being too loud you always managed to bring his energy down to a more appropriate level without yelling at him.

But right now, she couldn’t help but feel annoyed at how focused you were on Drew when you were supposed to be focused on her.

“And Dad bought me three new skins for my birthday! Here, let me show you all of them.” Drew scrambled to find his iPad, and for what seemed like the millionth time, Paige leaned into you, tugging your shirt sleeve at the elbow.

“Can we go now?” she whined. “You said we would watch the wolves game together.”

“Just give me a few more minutes,” you whispered back, not even bothering to look at her. “Let me see Drew’s skins.”

Paige loudly huffed. She was bored out of her mind. “The game’s starting in five minutes, you know,” she urged, widening her eyes to show her eagerness.

“I know, you just said that two minutes ago. You go on up first, I’ll be there in a few,” you said dismissively before enthusiastically throwing yourself into yet another conversation with Drew about Fortnite.

Grumbling under her breath, Paige went up the stairs, making sure to aggressively stomp to get her impatience across. When she reached the top, she turned around, but you didn’t seem to have noticed her attitude at all, eyes totally glued to Drew’s screen.

The Timberwolves vs Mavericks game started, but Paige couldn’t enjoy it without you. Her annoyance grew as she heard you and her little brother’s raucous laughs echoing from the basement. She clenched her jaw, wondering how you were more interested childish things like Fortnite (as if she hadn’t played that game for hours every night the past month) than a basketball game with your very sexy girlfriend.

Paige was able to ignore her frustrations momentarily and get lost in the game, but when Anthony Edwards scored a buzzer-beater three to end the first quarter and she jumped up and down, instinctively going to grab you out of excitement, she realized again that you still hadn’t come up. With a groan, she headed back downstairs.

This time, you and Drew were playing on the Nintendo, both of you fully zoned in on building your Minecraft world. “Hey.” You felt a flick on your head and turned around to see a grumpy Paige. “You just missed Ant’s best moment of the season,” she declared, hoping you’d feel disappointed at having missed the highlight.

But you only said, “Oh, damn,” before turning back to the screen.

Paige sighed and decided to try again. “He shot from full court to put the wolves up at the end of first,” she prodded, hoping you’d get excited. But you merely nodded before turning to Drew and asking if he wanted to switch to creative mode.

Paige switched tactics. “Drew,” she said in a sing-song voice. “I think your screen time is up.”

Drew wrinkled his eyebrow, not tearing his gaze from the TV. “I don’t have a screen time.”

Paige stepped in front of the TV, forcing both of you to finally look at her. “Do either of you want ice cream?” she tried, smiling hopefully. “I’ll drive us to Baskin Robbin’s.”

“I’m still pretty full from lunch,” you said, “but thanks babe.”

“Yeah, me too,” Drew agreed. “Can you move now?”

Paige begrudgingly moved aside, jaw tightened as she grinded her teeth. Returning back upstairs, she watched the rest of the NBA game in a brooding silence. She felt slightly immature for being jealous of the attention her brother was receiving from you, but she’d had a long day and all she wanted was to be in your arms, watching her favorite team play.

During dinner, Paige stayed quiet as you and Drew continued your conversation about whatever new game you’d moved onto playing. You were totally oblivious to her irritation of being neglected, thinking she was just sleepy. Paige perked up after dinner, thinking Drew would fall into a food coma and escape to his room, but instead he insisted on showing you two the clothes he’d bought recently.

“I saved the best for last,” Drew announced after twenty minutes of giving you two a detailed and intricate fashion show. He ran to the bathroom, then quickly reappeared in a neat black tuxedo, with a navy pin stripe tie finished with shiny leather oxfords.

“Oh my god!” you squealed, bending down to squeeze his cheeks. “You look so adorable.”

Drew blushed at the attention as you continued to shower him with praises. Paige’s mouth dropped as she glared at the two of you. “Are you serious?” she complained. “You never react like this when I show you my shopping hauls.”

You raised an eyebrow at your girlfriend. “Maybe that’s because you buy the same grey sweatpants each time.” Drew snickered and gave you a fist bump as Paige fought back a smile, trying to mask it under feigned annoyance.

“You two are unbelievable,” she declared. “I regret letting you guys meet.”

“You’re just mad your girlfriend likes me more than she likes you,” Drew shot back, earning another high five and round of giggles between the two of you.

Paige made a show of getting up from her seat. “Well, I’ll leave you two alone since you guys hate me so bad,” she said dramatically.

It was almost 1 AM when you silently crept up to Paige’s childhood bedroom. You and Drew had stayed up gaming for hours, long after Paige had gone up to finish some homework and study. You expected the blonde to already be fast asleep, but when you opened the door, she was using her phone in bed.

“P?” You whispered, startling her.

“Dude.” Paige fixed you with an unforgiving look after recovering from her shock. “It’s literally one. What were you guys doing that took so long?”

“Sorry,” you said sheepishly, letting the door quietly shut behind you. “We were really getting into it.”

“Yeah, I can tell,” Paige said, rolling her eyes. She plugged a charger into her phone and set it on the bedside table, clearly ready to go to sleep. You shrugged and headed to the bathroom to brush your teeth and get ready for bed. But when you climbed into bed and leaned over to give the blonde a kiss, she dodged it. Ignoring your confused stare, she rolled over, turning her back on you.

“Woah.” You tapped her shoulder. “What’s up with you?”

“What’s up with me?” Paige suddenly shot up straight in bed. “You spent the entire day ignoring me. I’m starting to think you’re only dating me to become friends with my little brother,” she complained.

A small smile slowly worked its way onto your face as realization dawned on you. Paige hadn’t been tired all day. “Aw, Paige,” you teased. “Are you jealous of your 10 year old brother right now?”

Realizing how ridiculous the situation sounded, Paige avoided eye contact with you, instead concentrating on pulling the comforter around her. “No,” she said unconvincingly, her voice tiny.

“I know you’re lying, baby,” you chuckled. You reached over to cup the blonde’s face in your hands, giving her an adoring look. “You’re so cute.”

“Stop it,” Paige blushed, swatting you away. “I’m still mad at you.”

“Hey, I never see your brother!” you defended. “You can’t get mad that I’m excited to see him.”

“I know,” Paige whined. “But you don’t have to totally ignore me.”

You felt a slight pang of guilt as you thought back to how you’d completely forgotten about the Timberwolves game that Paige had been so excited to watch with you. Granted, she was excited about every wolves game, but still. “Paige Madison Bueckers,” you intonated slowly, clasping your hands together. “I am immensely sorry for the pain I have caused you today.” You planted a big and sloppy kiss smack in the middle of her forehead, causing her to groan and wipe away the slobber. “You are the light of my life,” you said solemnly. “The apple of my eye. My favorite person on earth.”

Paige pursed her mouth, trying to prevent the corners of her lips from curving upwards. “And?”

“Never again will I ignore you or miss a wolves game.” You hesitated. “Wait, can I take back that last part? You watch so many of their games it’s hard to keep up-”

Paige’s eyes narrowed and you decided to cut yourself off before you dug a deeper hole. “Nevermind!” you said brightly. “I will never again forget to watch a wolves game with my beautiful, sexy, gorgeous, incredible girlfriend.”

The blonde beamed up at you. “That’s more like it.”

You toyed at the collar of her shirt, letting your fingers brush gently across the soft skin on her neck. Looking up at her through your lashes, you said as seductively as you could, “Now can I kiss you?”

“Fuck yeah,” she muttered, grabbing your hips and pulling you in.

[lulunothulu]

Always Second Choice

A/N: I’ve been in such a fluffy mood omg. Please enjoy a fantasy I’ve been thinking about all day.

TW: PURE FLUFF, some alcohol use, sad boi hours, sappiness, BUT HAPPY ENDING 💗

“Why can’t I be someone that a person loves first?”

You’d had a wild night of drinking with Phoenix after running into your ex. Seeing him always made you want to go all out, mainly because you wanted to forget about him and what he did to you. It’d been a year since you caught him in bed with another woman and you still freak out whenever you run into him at the grocery store.

Tonight wasn’t an exception. You had called Natasha to come drink with you—who called Bradley and Jake—because you desperately needed to take shots of tequila after you saw your ex with the girl he cheated on you with. She was pregnant.

“Why couldn’t he have loved me?” You had cried after three shots. “Why wasn’t I the one he chose? Why am I always someone’s second choice?”

After another three and a half shots, Jake told you to call it night.

That was the thing about Jake, he was one of the best friends you could ever ask for. No matter what—or who— he was doing, he dropped everything to make sure you were okay and safe. It’s part of the reason why you fell for him, and hard. He was the first person you’d fully loved with your whole heart. But given that you both worked together and he saw you strictly as a friend, you knew it wouldn’t have worked. And then there was his man-whore ways. He wouldn’t give that up to be with someone—let alone you.

You had drunkenly told an extremely inebriated Nat and Bradley a sloppy goodbye before Jake scooped you up and over his shoulder and gentle walked and placed you in his truck.

He’s carried you up the stairs of your shared two bedroom house and gently laid you on your bed. Even helping you undress and put on an oversized t-shirt with some basketball shorts.

“I’ll be right here if you need me,” he told you before kissing your forehead and smoothing your hair.

“You promise?” You asked.

“I promise, darling.”

You had woken up with a startle and began to panic before realizing you were home and in your bed. Flashes of the night popped into your mind and you groaned before remembering that Jake was on the floor of your room.

“Jake,” you whisper. You knew he’d still be there. He promised he would.

“Yeah?” He groggily whispers back. He must’ve been asleep.

“Why did you bring me home? Don’t you have people to see?”

“Kinda,” he groans as he sits up from the carpeted floor and turns to look at you with squinted eyes. “And I brought you home because you were babbling at the bar.”

“Oh, why are you still here? I thought you were on a date?” You ask.

“You remember that?” He chuckled. “You had nearly seven shots.”

“It’s all kinda popping into my mind,” you admit. “I’m sorry I kept you from her, whoever she was.”

“It’s fine. I was gonna cancel our hookup anyway.”

“Why?” You dared to ask.

“I had better things to be doing,” he says, turning those green eyes on you with so much kindness, you felt like you were melting.

You turn away abruptly and nod, feeling your hair fall around your face. You feel Jake’s fingers brush against your forehead before tucking a strand of hair behind your ear with a smile.

“Now what did you mean at the bar?” Jake asks. “You know, about being someone second choice?”

You hesitate. As much as you loved Jake, you damn sure were not going to be telling him this...at least not now.

"Nothing, I was drunk as hell," you say instead.

Jake lifts a brow before sighing and standing from the floor, looking down at you from the side of the bed. "Scoot over, the floor is hard as fuck."

You laugh but scoot over, allowing Jake to climb into bed with you with a loud sigh. His arm brushes next to your arm before settling on top, his hand squeezing yours.

"You're my first choice," he whispers.

Your heart flutters at the thought of being his first choice but then stops when you realize he probably means it in a platonic way.

"Thanks," you mutter. "At least I'm someone's first choice."

Jake shuffles to face you, a frown forming on his brow. "I mean it, Y/N. You're my first and only choice."

"Okay, Jake." You're not convinced but at least the heart was in the statement.

"Y/N," he starts, cupping your face. "Why do you think I cancelled my date?"

"To take care of my drunk ass," you chuckle.

"No," he smiles. "Because I'd hate to know Bradley's hands were the ones drying your tears, dressing you. I hate the thought of having anyone other than me taking care of you. You're my girl."

"Your girl?"

"My number one," he starts. "My day one. My ride or die. My love. Don't think I haven't noticed how annoyed you get when I'd pick up girls at Hard Deck."

Your heart was pounding in your chest. You couldn't believe Jake was telling you this, that he noticed your annoyance.

"Why are you telling me this?" you ask.

He caresses your cheek before whispering, "You know why."

"No, I don't," you whisper back.

"Then let me show you."

Before you can react, Jake is sitting up and pressing his lips onto your forehead. He peppers kisses down your cheeks and nose before hovering over your lips. He’s panting softly, smiling down at you before he fully leans in.

His soft lips brush against yours and tentatively peck at them. Only when you wrap an arm around his neck does he deepen the kiss, smothering you in the best way imaginable.

His lips are wander and explore yours like an archeologist would an Egyptian tomb. His tongue pushes past your lips, wrestling with your own the taste of alcohol mixed with something sweet lingering.

Jake snakes his hand to the back of your neck, cradling your head in his hand.

“Oh, Y/N.” He moans into your mouth. “I’ve been waiting to kiss you.”

See to him, you’ve been the girl he’s been dreaming about. The one he thinks of before he goes to bed. The one he needed to distract himself from because he didn’t feel like you had feelings for him. He’s loved you from the very moment you walked onto the tarmac and chewed his ass out for flying recklessly. He’s loved you every day, every minute, every second.

Only now, when he saw you crying about being chosen second, did he think to make his move.

To hell with the friendship. He wanted more.

“Jake,” you breathlessly reply when he kisses down your neck. “You can’t mean that. It’s the alcohol talking.”

He stops kissing you, looking deep into your eyes and turning serious.

“Y/N, when I tell you I’ve been waiting to kiss you, I mean it. From the moment you walked onto the tarmac two years ago, to now. Now god damnit, let me kiss you.”

So you did.

[taintedcigs]

— even if it’s handcuffed i’m leaving here with you

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader x eddie munson

summary: steve asks eddie for his handcuffs to spice up things in the bedroom with you, and once things go wrong, the two of you turn to eddie for help… in more ways than one. (wc: 3.1k+)

warnings: MINORS DNI, smut smut smut, or*l (f!receiving), handcuffs duh, lots of praises, dom!eddie, steve kinda subby but also soft!dom? the dynamics are mixed LMAO, pet names (sweetheart, honey, baby, slut), mmf, three way kissing idk

authors note: so this is what happens when a girl mixes her three hyperfixations; 9-1-1, steddie and CHALLENGERS. i wrote this v long ago it is a bit shitty and not proof-read SO IGNORE ALL MISTAKES THANK U. (also this is sm more meaningful to me now bc i got this song as my surprise song like i accidentally manifested this WAIT.)

and please, if you wanna support me; reblog + like + comment ILY!!

Steve is embarrassed.

Embarrassed that he has to ask Eddie for this. For handcuffs to use that he has no idea what the fuck to do with.

And of course Eddie finds it all amusing, a smirk plastered on his face while he teases Steve, rosy-cheeks turning pinker.

And normally, it would've pissed him off, Eddie's teasing, his flirty comments towards you, towards him.

But for some reason, it doesn't.

The three of you have this dynamic that he can't quite put his hand on, it's different, exciting, new, it intrigues him, more than anything.

You and Steve had just started dating, a couple months in, the honeymoon phase and all, and of course, Eddie had been there for it all.

The first moment you caught Steve's eye, you caught Eddie's too, the dynamic settled in then with Steve charming you right away, while Eddie's flirty antics didn't go unnoticed by you.

Yet, somehow, someway, it snowballed into you dating Steve. But it didn't end there. The three of you hung out often.

Very often.

So much so that you had regular movie nights, always ending up high out of your minds with Eddie’s shitty weed, talking each other's ears off 'till the sun came up.

You knew everything about his life, his shitty band gigs (the one Steve dragged you to, and surprisingly his music didn't suck), his uncle, his girlfriends. Or the lack thereof.

Eddie always mentioned how he just hadn't found the right one yet, just a bunch of meaningless sex.

And he made sure to always come to the both of you afterwards, telling everything, in great fucking detail too. 

Maybe it was weird for anyone else. But for the three of you, it was your normal. 

Especially for you, because you enjoyed them. Enjoyed his stories as they made you squirm in your seat. Reactions not going unnoticed by Steve.

And it's what led to Steve wanting to spice things up in the bedroom with you. He knew the sex was great. He was obsessed with you, and you were with him.

But, fuck, there was something missing. Something he couldn't pin point exactly. And he was willing to try out anything, especially when he remembered how much you reacted to one of Eddie's stories with the handcuffs, later mentioning to him that you really liked the idea.

The idea of losing control, giving yourself fully to another partner, and Steve's knees almost gave out right then and there.

He didn't know where the fuck to obtain handcuffs, hence why he immediately ended up at Eddie's door, enduring his endless teasing, sort of hoping that he'd offer to help.

An idea that crossed his mind, but one that he'd never verbalize, unless, you mentioned it too.

The second he showed you the handcuffs you squealed in excitement, putting on your best lingerie, making a show out of everything before the two of you didn't hesitate to jump on each other. His clothes scattered in the room, you in your lingerie, hungry for each other.

His mouth lingered, scent so intoxicating that you could feel your thighs dampen, lips all over your skin and hands squeezing whatever he could grab onto, both of you feral.

“Y'know I didn't wanna have to do this,” he murmurs into your lips, bringing the cuffs in your view, playing into it, enjoying the giggles you give him in return. 

“Please, sir, promise I'll be good,” you pout with those doe eyes, making Steve almost cave in, cock stirring against his tight boxers, begging to be attended to. 

He gives a rough grunt before pining your hands above your head “That’s my girl.” 

“But you still have to be punished,” he hisses quietly, putting his weight on top of you, the cold metal off the first cuff making you shiver, he tightens it as soon as he locks it, making sure your other wrist is free, for now. “Don’t worry, I’ll go easy on ya, doll.” His hums make you whine loudly.

“For now.” You can feel his smirk widening when his lips attack yours again, hungry, as his bulge presses against your inner thighs, his hand holding your cuffed one in place, making you mewl desperately, kisses traveling down your chest. 

And of course, you use his distraction to your advantage, quickly grabbing onto his free hand, the second cuff clicking onto its place before he can even attempt to protest. 

“I guess we’re even now, pretty boy,” you tease with a sultry voice, but Steve’s head pops up to meet your doe eyed gaze with a panic. 

“Did you just handcuff us both to the bed?” He asks, shear dread overtaking his face, making you furrow your brows. 

“Yeah, baby, that’s the whole point,” you giggled, attempting to kiss him again but he pulled away. “Fuck,” he groaned, making you roll your eyes. 

“Oh c’mon, I know you have a thing for women being in control.” 

True, and it would’ve turned him on, almost made him bust out right then and there, if the context was any different, but instead he could just groan in panic. “Oh, sweetheart, I do, but fuck-”

“What?” You ask, face puzzled.

“The keys are in my pockets,” he murmurs, gaze trailing near the dresser. 

Your eyes follow his, the jeans you threw in a hurry were placed upon the dresser, far away from the two of you, and there was no physical way to reach for them. 

Both of you, cuffed to the bed, and no one there to save you.

“Oh, shit.” 

-

The two of you tried every possible position to get out, but there was no fucking luck, and that’s when you finally settled on calling someone for help. 

It was obvious the only person you could call for help was Eddie, but you knew his teasing would be relentless, curls bouncing each time a laughter rumbled from his stomach, making you huff out immaturely. 

“Seriously, Eddie, this isn’t funny!” Steve chided, a bit playfully considering he knew how stupid the two of you must’ve looked, and it just made Eddie chuckle louder and louder. 

“Are you kidding? This is the highlight of my week!” 

“C’mon, Eds, just help us.” Your soft tone caught his attention quickly, his smirk disappearing just as fast before he approached the two of you closer, now able to get a much better look at the two of you. 

“Oh, Harrington, what did you even do?” He rambled, trying to ignore that feeling he always got, but this time much stronger, you in your lingerie, and Steve’s obvious bulge that made Eddie gulp physically. Shit.  

“I totally should’ve offered to teach you both.” He didn’t even know where the fuck that came from. Word vomit.  

“Why didn’t you?” Curiosity got the best of you, and you didn’t even realize the implications of your words, until the two boys snapped their heads in your direction, like you’ve blurted out the most scandalous shit ever. 

“I- uh- what?” Eddie stammered, eyeing Steve carefully, not knowing if this was a joke. Or if both of you actually meant it.

He never thought it was possible. This. The three of you. Sure the dynamic between all of you had been tethering on something more. But never straight forward like this. 

It surprised both of you when Steve spoke up, lips twitching into a smirk. “Why didn’t you offer to teach us?” The two of you finished each other’s sentences, it almost looked intentional, as if the two of you have planned this, like the two of you ever talked about this. 

You didn’t, it was just natural. Something you both had been too ashamed to admit. 

Something even Eddie couldn’t admit to himself, other than a few jokes, and some drunken confessions here and there, but nothing like this.

All he ever wanted.

Eddie’s usual confidence was wavering, and it was amusing to see, exciting. Something you’d love to explore. Make him beg. God, you knew he’d sound pretty as fuck when he whined. 

“W-would you guys want that?” Stammering, again, yet you can’t get too cocky, because you know once Eddie fully wraps his head around what the fuck is happening, he’ll lean back into that domineering side. After the countless stories the two of you  have heard, it intrigues you both. So you and Steve unanimously help him to get there. 

“If we didn’t, we wouldn’t offer it, Munson,” you encouraged, watching the way his eyes oggle both of you, curious, ecstatic, that dirty mind conjuring something.

“So… you’re both sure about this?” 

“Sure that I want to be fucked by both of you? I think so, Munson.” You roll your eyes, so bored of the fact that you’ve been handcuffed for the past twenty minutes with no action, and because you knew it’d rile Eddie up. You’ve seen the flare in his gaze before, jaw locking in each time you rolled your eyes at him. 

And it works, like a switch, you see the dominance bubbling up on his face.

“Feisty that one, isn’t she, Stevie?”

“Mmhm, the dirtiest mouth,” Steve adds, soft hands squishing your cheeks with a smirk, insides feeling gooey with the way they both eye you. 

He tssked, “Haven’t you taught her some manners?” You whined slightly at that comment, they both knew what you wanted, what you desired, your boundaries… everything. 

A dynamic that’s been brewing for months… finally exploding into reality, and of fucking course you couldn’t hide your excitement, making Eddie grin. 

He’s quick to uncuff Steve, a groan leaving his lips at the relief from the cold metal against his skin, making Eddie’s cock stir at the sound. His two play things. And he’s going to have so much fun. 

“Wanna help me teach her some manners, pretty boy?” Steve didn’t even answer, holding you down and spreading your thighs while Eddie grabbed your other hand, cuffing you properly this time, tightening it and relishing in your pathetic mewls. 

Biting the inside of your thighs, Steve didn’t hesitate to tease you, spreading your pussy lips open to show it to Eddie, both of them grinning hungrily, “look how pretty she looks, Eds.” 

“Such a gorgeous pussy,” Eddie hummed, admiring, groaning with a deep sigh. 

All he fucking dreamed about. 

Glistening with your arousal, inviting him in, and those goddamn sultry eyes were driving him insane, making him blink twice to make sure he wasn’t imagining, both of you looking at him like you wanted to eat him up. 

A kind of attention he wasn’t used to, but it got him more and more riled up, confident, trailing his fingers by your inner thighs, the sensation of Steve’s lips brushing against your thighs while Eddie’s fingertips softly teased at your skin was something straight out of a dream. 

Eddie looked at Steve, a subtle need to get his permission to press his lips to you.

So new… boundaries blurred and unknown, and Steve was quick to nod, hungrily watching the two of you, cock straining so hard against his boxers that he was aching.

Desperate. 

Eddie was more or less the same, especially when you initiated the kiss, the softness of your lips brushing against his, making him whine pathetically. 

It didn’t take long for him to take control again, the dynamic between the three of you changing ever so quickly, Steve still ghosting inside of your thighs, stomach, chest, legs, everywhere.

And shit… Eddie was a good kisser. 

His lips were demanding, soft but somehow still teasing, attentive. His tongue didn’t meet much resistance as it danced against yours, smooth, on beat, the type that made flutters appear in your stomach, all the while Steve’s touches making your thighs dampen. 

Too much. But in the best way possible. 

If your hands weren’t tied up, it would’ve been surfing through their soft hair, demanding more attention, making you grew more and more frustrated, a smirk sitting on both of their lips at your pathetic moans. 

A light scruff of Eddie’s beard scratched against your cheeks before he broke the kiss, “Steve,” he hummed, gaining his attention, head popping up all ecstatic, “C’mere.” 

Both of them stick to your side, weight of the bed shifting as the gazes exchanged almost burned each other through the core. Full of longing, desire, and hunger.  

Eddie angled your face toward Steve, “Kiss her,” he demanded.

A demand that didn’t take Steve a second longer to obey, thick fingers brushing against your face as his big hands cupped your heated cheeks, with your lips parted slightly he didn’t hesitate to push his tongue inside your mouth, possessing you fully, completely, an uncontrollable whine slipping past your lips. 

“Fuck,” Eddie whispered, “you guys are so hot.” His breath fanned against your neck, hot hands running down your body, all three of you growing more and more impatient with each ragged breath, Steve’s tongue still shoved down your throat while Eddie played with your breasts, lips on your neck, making you squirm. 

You could feel Eddie’s needy cock pressing against your ass, while Steve’s was barely confined in his boxers, prodding against your thigh, you don’t know how or when it happened but Eddie had joined in on the kiss too, the three of your lips moving in synch, busy between each other’s hot mouths, tongues curious and on beat, all magical and tempting.

Dark depths you always wanted to explore but never could, sloppy and filthy in the best way possible, shutting your eyes close as you enjoyed it, felt it all. 

Unsure of who’s tongue was tangled in yours at this point but you could careless, disorienting you in a way that you couldn’t tell whose hands were hot all over your body, everywhere, messy, and uncontrolled. 

And fuck, did you need more. 

You could tell they did too, dicks twitching against you in a way that made you flutter. 

And it felt like the three of you communicated, telepathically, because both of them, somehow managed to break the kiss, making your face fall in for more, unable to do anything with your hands cuffed to the bed. Infuriating, and not helping the wetness that had well already pooled inside of you. 

“Awww, our pretty baby is needy, isn’t she?” Eddie mocked, both of them shifting down to your thighs, attention all on you as they spread you wider, mesmerized gaze following your every slight twitch. 

“Relax,” Eddie cooed, amber gaze dangerously warm, both making you whine and giving you comfort at the same time, and before you could think, Steve’s hands warmed you up as well. 

“Let us take care of you,” he added, and you couldn’t help but enjoy their squeezing, kneading, making you feel so fucking good. 

You nodded, squirming as Eddie’s bearded chin tickled your skin, planting kisses inside of your thigh, while Steve’s fingers teased you, and all you could do was whine, hips rising from the bed, lust overshadowing the initial doubt. 

“That’s our good girl,” Eddie praised, your thighs spread open, pussy exposed, completely. The two of them taking care of you, hands everywhere and one of their thumbs teasing your entrance, collecting your juices, smearing it around your lips, making you go airborne. 

You could barely comprehend what happened when fingers slipped inside of you, one at first, then two, slicked in your juices, teasing, pumping in and out of you.

Head thrown back, you embrace the euphoria, different fingers entering inside of you, both of them deeper and deeper, squelching noises and your whimpers so heavenly that Eddie could feel his cock twitching, while Steve pathetically rutted into the sheets, desperate for some friction.

Fingering you until you could hear how wet you were, opening you up. Fully exposed to them.

You were too fucked out to notice that they had both started kissing your pussy lips, lapping up your juices, drinking you in, Eddie on one side and Steve on the other. 

Heaven-sent.

You moaned like a bitch in heat, Eddie and Steve’s dripping cocks stirred at the sound, desperate to make you cum, to taste you.

Their fingers linked inside of you, thumbs continuing their rubs, and that hot white spot appeared behind your eyes. 

You wanted to cum.

Fuck that.

You needed to cum.

And who were they to deny their little angel? 

You had earned it.

Back arched, hands tight against the cuffs, all you could do was mewl as their fingers were stretching you, licks all over your hole making your breath ragged, “E-Eds… Stevie… I-I… shit!” 

Eddie was quick to pop his head to meet your gaze, fingers still continuing their movements, flicking your sensitive spots as he gave you that goddamn grin again. “You wanna cum doll… don’t ya?” 

Your body was frail. The most beautiful ache. Your entire nerve system felt like it was about to explode. 

Everywhere. All at once. 

“Come for us,” Steve  encouraged, his and Eddie’s fingers moving faster, Steve lapping up your juices while Eddie’s tongue found your clit, sucking on it like it was his lifeline. 

The softest tongue, but the roughest movements. Just fucking perfect. 

“Oh, fuck!” You hissed, “E-Eddie, S-Steve!” 

“That’s right, slut, scream our name while you come for us,” Eddie demanded. 

And fuck you wanted more, so much more. Just the idea of having two of them inside of you at the same time was enough to have your eyes roll all the way to the back of your head. 

But you couldn’t wait. 

“You-you’re both so… fuck… fu… fu… fuckkkkk…” Your words got caught in the back of your throat, pathetic noises was all they could make out, especially as Eddie’s tongue circled around your clit, suckling, fingers working faster as it finally brought you over the edge. Making you jerk and come so hard that white spots flew behind your eyes. 

The wildfire and the chemistry between the three of you burning your insides, that tingling warm sensation prickling every inch of your skin. 

“God, you taste perfect, sweetheart,” Eddie praised with a low hum. “Do you know how long I’ve been waiting to hear that fucking moan?”

“You’re so fucking hot, baby,” Steve growled, making you his while he gently uncuffed you, each of their praises sending warm tingles down your spine.

Fuck, they were good. 

And as Steve was about to get up, Eddie stopped him with a quick tut. “Okay, pipe down, sweetheart, you still have a lot to learn.” 

With that dumbfounded look on his face, he turned to face Eddie, making him grin wider. 

“Oh, Stevie you look so cute with that confused look on your face, such a pretty face isn’t he?” Eddie’s attention turned to you, still so domineering that all you could do was frantically nod. 

“Do you wanna help me teach him, baby?” You nodded, again, gaze glazed, overtaken by desire.

The two of you were quick to pin him down, skin meshing all together when you helped Eddie cuff him.

“Let us take care of you, pretty boy.” 

[togament]

i am RATTLING the bars of my enclosure thinking about togame im so insane about him its not even funny hebrgkdlcjfslfj

i love his nose shape bc its not one i see very often on characters but like i KNOW he puts it to good use while ur riding on his face I CAN FEEL IT IN MY BONES 😩😩🥵🥵🥵😩😩😩😩😩🥵

STAAAAWP. bc that’s the exact reason why i fell for him holy shit (and the exact same dirty thought SHDJNDDNDN) how are you literally meeee? i legit paused the episode he first showed up at and ran to his wiki. i have a thing for guys with pretty, beautiful, gorgeous noses ok (and the fact that i could kinda rub up against them when i—)

"when togame’s nose fucking distracts you (same) when you’re out in public. you’re needy and he’s more than willing to provide."

𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 : TOGAME’S NOSE OH MY FUCKING GOOOOODDDDDuh, togame palming himself while he eats, swearing, fem!reader, squirting, SLURPING, togame’s a GIVER, oral (female receiving) ((good for you)), sliiiight breath control play if you hold a little magnifying glass to it, togame straight up jorking "it", and by "it", haha, well. lets just say his peanits, togame.

staring up at your boyfriend, you can’t help but admire his features. how soft his gaze always is, how he pouts slightly every time he’s deep in thought, how he hides his dimples when he laughs but they still show even at the slightest smile.

but what really gets you, what really grinds your gears, is his nose.

“let me sit on your face.”

“hm?”

“…Let. Me. sitonyourface.”

“eaaaasy, baby. what’s got you worked up all of a sudden?” he purrs.

———-

NSFW under the snippy snip. MDNI. nobody below 18 pls mua mua mua.

you’re hovering your sopping wet cunt over your lover’s face now, his hot breath kissing the insides of your thighs with both of his hands cupping your ass, giving them little squeezes to ease your descent. looking down at him, his lustful gaze never leaves your form. Watching you slowly lower yourself onto his face, he blows upwards and onto your glistening folds. you clench over nothing and he lets out a hum.

“lookin’ so pretty fer me, bunny,” he coos, not even trying to mask the absolute desperation in his voice. “all wet just from my voice alone. missed me that bad?” you nod, lowering further, further. his nose brushes against your clit and you gasp. he’s fully aware that you love his nose, how you focus on riding his face only to bump your clit onto it. gets you every single time.

the grip he has on your ass eases up as you fully seat yourself on his face, your cunt directly on his tongue. you let out a soft mewl as you feel his thumb raise the hood of your clit, exposing the more sensitive bud underneath. it’s absolutely engorged and fat now.

he’s torn between savoring the taste of you and just fucking you senselessly. he missed you as much as you missed him, after all.

that could wait, he realizes.

he’s enjoying the view above him.

his rough thumb flicks at your clit while you continue seesawing on his tongue, unbidden curses and moans escape your kiss reddened lips. you swear you could feel his tongue moving, tensing it and laying it flat for you to ride on. but then you move higher, higher.

rubbing your sensitive nub against his tall nose. his thumb holds the hood of your clit back as you help yourself to the pleasure, expertly riding his face like you often do when he gets you alone. if he could, he’d stay like this forever. eating you out, having you cum on his tongue over and over again.

you’re riding faster now, practically humping his face with your fingers tangled in his curly, jet black hair. god. he can’t take it.

he starts palming himself underneath you while you ride his face into oblivion, getting off on the fact you’re getting off on his face. plus the added restriction on his breathing is making him feel dizzy but in the best way possible.

moaning underneath you, it sends vibrations up your core. you let out a salacious moan and that further eggs him on. with one hand, he pulls his gray sweatpants down to finally pump at his cock, moaning louder into your cunt. god. this is the closest to heaven you'll ever be without dying.

your grip on his hair tightens before your breath hitches, growing more and more staggered with every moment that passes. you look down again and you meet his eyes. like he's silently telling you to cum. throwing your head back, you continue riding, and riding, and riding....

just cum.

and you do. fuck, you do. squirting down his lips, the liquid dribbles down his neck and into his hair. but god. he's holding onto your hip hard with one hand when he follows you, cumming just after you did, groaning into your pussy. you whimper, relaxing your muscles that have been taut the entire time you were chasing that high. meeting your boyfriend's eyes once more, he fucking winks at you before he maneuvers you, pinning you underneath him on the couch. he pulls you in for a much deserved cuddle, massaging your shoulders while he coos at you. "was it my nose again?" "...yes."

a/n: ehehehehe togame and his fucking nose, brother. i'm so so SO happy to know we got togame nose fuckers around too. i see you.

a/n 2: togame knows you’ve got a thing for his nose btw :)!!!!! he’s a sweet boyfriend BUT!!!!! he can be a little shit if he wants to be. uses that shit to his advantage.

[seungfl0wer]

list 1: 18, 30, 59 is driving me insane, it doesnt matter which member honestly 😭

*Didn’t Know You’d Like That*

Pairing: Jisung x Reader (Fem)

Genre: Smut

Warnings: Choking, Hair Pulling, Biting, Breeding, Creampie, Unprotected (P in V), lots of dirty talk. Think that’s all? (Not Proof read)

Prompts are: 18 “Do you kiss your mother with that mouth?” 30 “Sit” 59 “I didn’t know you liked that”. All of these are from my first prompt list (Here) I also have a second prompt list (Here)

Ugh it took me a bit to figure who I wanted to do I saw you’ve been getting wrecked by 3racha so figured to do one of them. Hope you enjoy it cause I really really did.

-🩵

Jisung sat across from you while you both played a card game. You’ve beat him the last 3 rounds, you definitely were feeling a little cocky about it too. “Ji you kinda suck” you teased pushing him with your foot you had against him under the table. “Excuse me” he scoffed tickling your foot. “I just think you’re cheating, plus there’s nothing to gain from winning.” He shrugged.

“So you don’t wanna win cause there’s nothing to gain? Wow really been hanging with Minho to long huh” you laughed. He chuckled at your words then a light bulb went off in his head. “I have an idea to make it more fun” he smiled a devilish smile “how about whoever loses next has to do a strip tease for the other.” That smug smile across his face dared you. He knew you were competitive so he knew you’d do it however what you didn’t know was this man was 100% hustling you. He was actually really good at this game and now that there was something to win he was gonna go for it.

You looked at him for a brief moment “Ji just tell me you’re horny.” You teased rolling your eyes “bet though, I’ll kick your ass again” you said with a smug smile. “I’m a man always am horny” he shrugged as he dealt the cards. You picked your hand up smirking at the cards thinking you had this in the bag. However it was so hard to read Jisung, he’s a bad liar for the most part but games like this he’s got a stone poker face. “Guess you better start stripping pretty boy.” You said putting your cards down.

The smile that creeped across your face was quickly wiped away by Jisung “I don’t think so princess” he said as he put his down revealing a perfect hand. You whined looking at him with a serious face “you cheated there’s no way” he couldn’t help but laugh at your words “nope told yeah if there’s something to gain I’ll actually do it.” He said standing up making his way to the couch. “Now I’m ready for my show sweetheart” he said that stupid smug grin creeping on him, just wanted to smack it off of him (in a loving way).

Although Jisung and you were friends this wouldn’t be the first time he’s seen you naked. Hell it wouldn’t even be the 4th time, you were always kinda whatever about being naked around him. Did he ever mind? No. Why would he? Getting to see his beautiful best friend’s body like that? He loved it, loved you were so comfortable with him. What he didn’t love though is how much you always teased him and then he was stuck just thinking about you while he fucked his fist.

You sighed getting up looking at the cocky man in front of you “fine, but don’t come crying to me when you get a boner.” You teased. You slowly made your way towards him taking off certain clothes and letting them drop to the floor. The way you moved your hips moved and the way the lights hit your curves had him in a trance. You could see his bulge growing quickly “such an easy boy hmm.” You said standing in front of him “you’re just to damn hot.” He said his words airy and hot. As you let your last bit of clothes fall you were fully naked in front of him. He felt like he was about to go crazy even more so as you went behind him leaning down towards his ear “so hard for me and I haven’t even done anything.”

Jisung almost moaned in reply his head spinning a bit from arousal. He snapped back out of it as you kept talking “such a horny man hmm? So hard for his best friend, I bet you think about me all the time when you touch yourself hm?” You said nipping at his ear. As you made your way back around you could see his body language change. His eyes were glued to you “sit” he said his voice low, it sounded almost like a growl. He pat his thigh looking at you daring you to say something smart. To his surprise though you did, siting down his bulge perfectly sandwiched itself between your folds.

He looked you over a second before he quickly started to suck on your neck making you buck your hips in return. The feeling made him go almost crazy biting harshly onto your neck you let out the loudest moan rolling your hips onto his clothed hard on. His other hand gripped at your neck moving it to give him more room as he continued the assault on it. Leaving pretty little purple marks mixed with teeth marks all over your neck. His hand gripped your throat a bit hard as the free one smacked your ass every time you moved your hips.

You were almost drooling at the sensation, your neck being a sensitive spot for you. “Fuck Ji, please- I- fuck- fuck me fuck me” you babbled your brain already to fuzzy from him. “Do you kiss your mother with that mouth.” He teased pulling away from your neck latching his lips now to yours. The kiss was sloppy full of need and lust. Your tongues wrestled as you grinned on him needing any sort of friction. “Fuck princess, ok let me take my pants off quick.” He said pulling away from the sloppy kiss.

As you moved you your eyes were met with the big wet patch you had left on him. His sweats having a clear outline where you’ve been grinding. The way his eyes grew at the sight almost made him go feral he discarded his pants quickly pulling you back on his lap. Kissing you again as you grinned on his now unclothed cock. What he lacked in girth he made up in length, his cock a bit curved as well.

You both moaned at the feeling before he moved himself “take your seat on the thrown princess” he said he would have cringed at his words but he was already too far gone for that. You slowly sunk down on his cock letting the feeling of him burn into your brain. You could feel him so deep, your walls almost molding to him. Your legs went almost jelly as you tried to move “Ji-“ you said softly.

He smiled moving his hips upward “my princess is already so fucked out of her brains she can’t move? I bet you’ve been thinking of me too huh. Thinking of me filling this pretty little cunt of yours? Hmm?” His words flowed out as he moved his hip digging his nails into your ass. You nod in response making him raise a brow “oh you have, have you? Think about me fucking you hard? The feeling of me filling you so full of my cock?”

“Yes- fuck Ji” you whimpered out his words driving you crazy “and now look at you bouncing on my cock, your cunt sucking me in. I can feel how much my words are driving you crazy, your cunt squeezes around me.” He continued to ramble picking his pace up. He moved one of his hands coming down to play with your clit, god you were so sensitive right now it was crazy. The moan you let out echoed in the room, the sound drove him mad. He latched himself back to your neck biting and sucking it harshly as he fucked you deep.

You could feel your high coming it was like a damn overflowing ready to just break at any moment. Jisung griped your hair pulling your head back a bit “touch yourself as I fuck you, I want you to cum all over my cock.” He growled his hand now wrapping around your waist pulling your body close to his. You did as you were told as he fucked you mercilessly. “Ji- I’m- fuck” you cried out as you felt the damn ready to burst “fucking hell princess” he groaned out.

“I’m gonna fucking breed you so deep.” His words hit a part of you that made you go crazy. His words, his cock pounding you and the your fingers stuttering over your sensitive nub. “Jisung- fuck please f-fill me breed me- fuck jisung!” You almost screamed out the damn finally busting the strew of your moans and the way your walls gripped him had him coming undone in no time.

He gripped your body tightly as he thrusted hard deep into you before cuming deep into you. His white strings painted pictures all across your walls. The feeling of him cuming so hard inside you had another wave rush over you making your body jolt squirting all over his cock. The rush of hot liquid coating both of you, he pulled you into a loving kiss holding you so tightly to him. “Didn’t think you’d like that, that much” he smirked his eyes looked sleepy almost as he kissed you again.

You could only nod resting your head on his shoulder your body shaking a bit. He helped you get cleaned up grabbing you a drink of water as he cleaned himself off. He laid down on the couch pulling you into his arms snuggling you tightly. Your body still feeling a bit jello-y. He peppered kisses against your shoulder “such a sweet girl, you did such a good job.” He cooed “let’s watch a movie and relax hmm? Want me to order food?”

You looked up at him and kissed his lips softly “food it is, I’ll order sweetheart. You ok though?” He said softly you nod holding onto him tightly “yeah, just want cuddles” you said voice sleepy. “Of course princess anything for you.” He said kissing your head curling back into the couch with you. You both never ended up getting food, falling asleep to quickly afterwards.

💙 If you’d like to read more of my stuff you can find it Here: Master List . Thank you for reading and if requests are open or you just wanna talk feel free to send me something🩵

[live-laugh-legolas]

FOR UR FELLOWSHIP REQUEST THING maybe the fellowship with an depressed reader? like how each of them would treat the reader (i wanted to go for su1c1d@l but idk if ur chill with it(ONLY IF U WANNA))

Remember that you are not alone so please reach out for help. There are hotlines to call/text if you are struggling, suicidal, or in a crisis

My messages are always open if you want to talk but I am no replacement for professional help and support of your loved ones

The fellowship x depressed!reader

Aragorn:

-He recognizes the signs quickly

-I imagine he’s had his bouts of depression

-He definitely takes a very gentle approach

-Offering a shoulder and an ear

-He’s kinda an unpaid and unlicensed therapist

-He gives lots of tips on how to keep going in your daily life

-For some people depression is kind of a way of life; you have to learn to live with it

Legolas:

-He doesn’t fully understand at first

-To elves, depression is really only experienced after loss

-So to have it chronically is a new concept to him

-He’s remorseful that you feel so low and he knows there isn’t much he can do

-But he will try

-He will force you to get up and out of bed, even if he has to throw you over his shoulder to get you some fresh air

-He will constantly point out little beautiful things to be grateful for; little joys

-Maybe it’s the smell of dawn or crunchy fall leaves

-Or maybe it’s him; he is very insistent that you would miss him most

Gimli:

-I literally love this dwarf so much; he would be such a cutie that you can’t help but smile at him

-Like he is so gentle and patient with you; which is saying something because dwarves are not patient beings

-He isn’t someone who will beat around the bush though; he will very bluntly tell you your worth and why he and everyone else needs and wants you around

-He gets you involved in anything he can

-Is it against your will? Maybe

-But I’ve found I sometimes end up feeling a little better and enjoy the time out even after I’ve bitched about it and my friend had to drag me out of the house by my hair

Boromir:

-Big brother mode is always active so he picks up on your subtle changes very fast

-Maybe even before you do

-He will tell you stuff like “even if you can’t, you must”

-Wether or not you find that helpful or not; just know he’s trying

-His experience with depression is seeing it with his soldiers

-And that’s the sort of thing he tells them so he just kinda hopes can be applied to you

-He is very action oriented; I think he may have a difficult time sympathizing with not feeling able to get up and do anything

-But damnit if he doesn’t try; he wants you to tell him everything so he can learn and be of better support

-He also gives the best hugs

Frodo:

-He is a very steady friend

-Like he’s not going anywhere; no matter how dark things look he’s still there with a torch

-He makes you go on walks like clockwork to give you some feeling of routine

-He always invites you over because if he can’t help he’s sure Bilbo can

-How can you be sad when talking to Bilbo?

-Well actually he talks a lot so maybe it’s a bit exhausting; but it’s a kind thought

Sam:

-So Sam wants to help so bad; the idea that he can’t fix it doesn’t sit well with him so he will keep trying

-He will help with tasks obviously because acts of service is his love language

-But I also imagine him trying to give comfort but not in the “let me hug you and you can cry on my shoulder way”

-More so in the “look at this photo of a piglet in rain-boots! You can’t be sad while looking at that!”

-Yes you can because that’s not how depression works but still; you put on a smile anyway because he’s just so adorable and he’s trying his best

-This may turn into a sort of “fake it till you make it” situation where eventually you may feel better from his antics

Merry:

-We know this hobbit likes to plan things and is always up for adventure with his friends

-And he’s basically Sherlock of the hobbits so you don’t have to say anything for him to read you like an open book

-He will set you a schedule and will hold you to it by joining you

-He’s not going to go easy on you ngl

-Not in a mean way; but he won’t give you a day to take a break and stay in bed

-Even if you have to half ass everything; you will be doing something

-“you don’t need to wash your hair but you do need to sit in this tub for at least 10 minutes”

-This can feel exhausting at the time and may make you snap at him sometimes but he’s determined because he loves you

-And sometimes tough love is the most helpful

Pippin:

-Can’t get out of bed?

-Don’t worry! Pippin won’t let you be lonely

-He won’t always drag you out of bed. Instead he will join you and talk your ear off

-He brings the “fun” to you

-With the hope that he will either annoy you so much you get up

-Or that his stories give you some level of intrigue to want to go out and see whatever it was he is talking about

Gandalf:

-This is a very old man, he’s seen depression in all states and forms

-He’s a quiet type of comfort

-He definitely says some vague poetic shit that isn’t necessarily helpful but it does have a meaningful lesson

-Offers his pipe

-He is also sort of they type that you are a little afraid to disobey

-Like if he tells you to get outside more; even if you don’t see him, he knows if you have or haven’t

——————————————————————————————————————————————————————

Idk how good this is. I personally do have depression so I know my own experiences with how it affects me, but it shows in different ways for everyone. In terms of comfort and support I’m not fully sure this does any justice, hopefully it’s a little comforting. I have a great support system but I’m notorious for being too stubborn to accept help. Don’t do that by the way, because eventually it will likely stop coming. Let your friends and family support you; it’s not out of pity; it’s because they care and want to help in anyway they can even if that just means checking to make sure you are alive each morning to let you know they are there.

Anyone can message me if they need someone to talk to. I’m no therapist or expert in any sense but I can be a friend :)

[fear-is-truth]

Hi i dont know if requests are open or not feel free to ignore this if you are busy!

I was wondering if you could do Evans with an autistic reader? You have the best writing ever and am sure whatever you write will be amazing

I receptly got diagnosed with autism and am starting to get used to it but the hardest part of all haves been finding people who accepts me this way or finding representation and i thought it would be comforting to read your writing about something like this

Have a good days and take care!♡

⋆𐙚 ₊ the evans x autistic reader .ᐟ

ft. tate langdon ‧ kit walker ‧ frat!kyle spencer ‧ james patrick march ‧ cult leader!kai anderson ‧ peter maximoff ‧ colin zabel ‧ warren lipka

a/n: enjoy, pookie !!

⟢ 𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐄 𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐃𝐎𝐍.

tate would rely on how you explain your experiences and base his reactions on that. If you mention sensory sensitivities, he’d attempt to avoid triggers—but sometimes he fucks up.

he would appreciate your bluntness or literal way of speaking. especially when you’re talking about morbid stuff.

if you have hyperfixations or special interests, tate would listen to you super intently, because he loves seeing you passionate about something.

if anyone belittled you or made ignorant comments, tate wouldn’t even hesitate to lash out (verbally or worse) in your defense.

⟢ 𝐊𝐈𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐋𝐊𝐄𝐑.

he would approach your autism with patience and a strong desire to learn how to support you better.

he would genuinely value the way you see the world, often marveling at your unique insights or the connections you make. “i never would’ve thought of it that way. that’s incredible.”

kit would happily adapt to your routines or help you stick to them. if you liked having breakfast at the exact same time every day, he’d join you.

if you ever feel self-conscious about your traits, kit would be the first to remind you that they make you who you are and that he adore every part of you.

he’d be great at recognizing when you’re overwhelmed or anxious.

would fully support your interests, even if they’re niche or kinda obscure.

⟢ pre death .ᐟ 𝐊𝐘𝐋𝐄 𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄𝐑.

kyle would never see your autism as a challenge; instead, he’d see it as part of what made you special. he would be endlessly supportive and sweet.

when you had a meltdown, kyle would stay super calm and be there for you in any way you needed. he’d hold you if you wanted or just sit nearby.

if anyone judged you or made rude comments, he would be the first to defend you.

he’d think your stimming was adorable. he’d play with your fidget toys or pick up new ones when he saw them in stores.

if you struggled with social interactions, kyle would subtly guide you without making you feel embarrassed. later in private, he’d quietly explain someone’s tone if it confused you.

if you were overwhelmed by sensory input, he would guide you to a quiet place or shield you from crowds.

⟢ 𝐉𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐒 𝐏𝐀𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐊 𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐂𝐇.

james is a stickler for his own routines but would seamlessly incorporate yours. if you needed structure, he’d find ways to create schedules that align with both your needs.

he would literally, in his pretentious fake brahms accent, tell you that he finds your mind “simply fascinating.”

being detail-oriented, he would quickly notice if certain stimuli upset you. the perfect lighting, temperature, or ambiance tailored to your liking.

if you liked eating the same thing every day, he’d have mrs evers serve it on the finest china, him saying, “consistency, my dear, is the backbone of sophistication.”

⟢ cult leader .ᐟ 𝐊𝐀𝐈 𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐎𝐍.

kai would scoff at the label, dismissing it as just another way society tries to put people in boxes. he’d say something condescending like, “you’re not autistic; you’re just you. stop letting woke leftists try to define you.”

but deep down, he’d be fascinated by the way your mind works. even though your honesty and blunt nature would annoy him, especially if it challenged his authority or poked holes in his ideas.

if you had a special interest or hyperfixation, kai would find a way to exploit it. he’d definitely rope you into doing something for him.

he would be visibly irritated with any stimming behaviours you had, like rocking or fidgeting. he’d snap at you, “can you stop that? it’s distracting.” over time, he might learn to tolerate it—or not.

during one of your sensory overloads or meltdowns, he’d get visibly frustrated, telling you that, “you need to get your shit together.” but eventually, kai would just leave you alone to work through it.

would intentionally push you into situations that he knows make you uncomfortable, framing it as a way to “toughen you up.”

⟢ 𝐏𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐌𝐀𝐗𝐈𝐌𝐎𝐅𝐅.

peter would absolutely adore every aspect of you, including your autism. he’d constantly remind you how fascinating your mind is.

if you had a hyperfixation, peter would dive right into it with you. whether it was a niche video game, a tv show fandom, or collecting random objects, he’d get so into it just to make you happy. he’d joke, “so, when do i get to be the world’s second-best expert on this? after you, of course.”

peter wouldn’t be fazed by your bluntness or honesty—in fact, he’d find it super relatable because he’s just as blunt as you. “finally, someone who just tells it like it is. you’re my kinda person.”

if anyone mocked or misunderstood you, peter would use his superspeed to tie their shoelaces together or give them a wedgie.

⟢ 𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐈𝐍 𝐙𝐀𝐁𝐄𝐋.

whatever you were hyperfocused on, colin would be your biggest fan. whether it was a niche topic or a hobby, he’d ask questions and letting you infodump. if it was something like a favorite tv show fandom, he’d take the time to binge every season and try to impress you with his knowledge.

colin would pay attention to the little things that made you comfortable and surprise you with them. for instance if you liked soft fabrics or weighted blankets, he’d go the extra mile to find them for you.

⟢ 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐄𝐍 𝐋𝐈𝐏𝐊𝐀.

warren might occasionally fuck up and say the wrong thing, especially if he didn’t fully grasp your sensory needs. but he’d sincerely apologise and try to make it up to you.

he would get a kick out of your bluntness, especially since he’s not exactly a fan of sugarcoating himself.

disclaimer: i did a lil research on autism but i’m still not totally sure if i got it right >.<

 fear-is-truth 2024 — all rights reserved. do not modify, repost, translate, or plagiarise my content.

[eddieandbird]

One More Request —

A reimagining of Colin Bridgerton and Penelope Featherington’s first kiss.

A/N: happy Bridgerton day everyone!! I am still fully on colin and pen brainrot, so enjoy my take on this scene! Even if you don’t watch Bridgerton, I still think it’s a super cute concept -bird

tags/warnings: fluff | 2.2k words | f!reader | love realization

———

As the sun dipped down in the Hawkins’ sky, you gently dropped another cardboard box into Eddie’s van with the rest of your belongings you’d be taking with you to college.

“Okay, I think that’s the last of it,” You grunted, shutting the door.

“Alrighty Miss Indiana State. Are you ready for big girl school?” Eddie chuckled, leaning his back against the car.

“Almost,” You said with an exaggerated exhale. “I have one more request,”

“Oh boy. It’s that bad huh?” Eddie had a wry smile. “Okay, what is it? I’ll try my best not to laugh,”

You gave a humorless chuckle “Oh, I think that’ll kind of be hard,”

Eddie’s eyes widened for just a moment as if to say ‘oh my god’ then he spoke up “Well come on, don’t make me nervous. Out with it, kid,”

“I don’t know, I’m having second thoughts now,” You bit your thumb nail.

Eddie could see you were serious. He had hoped you were just pulling his leg, so he could laugh it off. But of course, you weren't. He peeled his back off the van so he could face you.

“Come on, spit it out. I promise I won't laugh that much,” He grinned, trying to lift your spirits.

You covered your face in your hands for a moment before taking a deep breath.

“Will you kiss me?” You shut your eyes tight, terrified to witness his reaction.

Eddie shook his head and waved his hand in confusion “Excuse me? What in the hell-“

“Eddie, I don’t know how to say this, but I leave for college in a couple of days and I still never had my first kiss. And there’s no way I am letting my over-prepared, always anxious self go to college; the land of hookups and parties, without having my first kiss!” You explained so quickly that you had to pause to breathe.

Eddie looked down at the ground for a moment before looking back at you with a bewildered expression, “You sure you're not just messing with me now?” He smirked then nudged your shoulder.

When you didn’t laugh back, he paused, and looked down again with a blank stare, as if he was putting the pieces together in his head, “Oh you’re serious aren’t you?”

“Yeah, I know it sounds totally insane, but it’s kinda important to me. I wanted to do it with someone I really trust,” Your shoulders slumped forward a bit in embarrassment. You knew you were throwing a curveball at Eddie with this request, but he was one of your best friends. It made better sense in your head.

Eddie shook his head, stammering “But I’m not your- I mean we’re not-“

“No! No, please it’s not like that, it doesn’t have to mean anything or be amazing or whatever! I just really want to do it,” You gulped, your thumbs toying with the cuffs of your sweater.

Eddie was still trying to wrap his head around the whole thing. Your reasoning was rational, you wanted your first kiss to mean something rather than just some fling or a situation you were pressured into like most people. He couldn’t help but be impressed, you were such a perfectionist and you truly thought this through.

He sighed, looking at the ground with a cheeky grin, “Yeah alright. C’mere, I’ll do it,” He jokingly scoffed.

You let out all the air you were holding in your lungs when he said yes.

“Oh thank god. I thought I was about to be humiliated,” A nervous giggle was woven into your words.

“Okay do we just do this here or-“ You suddenly realized you did not know what else to do.

A part of you didn’t think you’d get this far, but you were damn proud you did. Unfortunately, the lack of preparation for this part left you a bit frazzled. Eddie chuckled, finding your plan endearing. He was a little nervous himself, not even considering the possibility that you would ever ask him this favor.

“Yeah here is fine, unless you wanted it out in some field of wildflowers and a sunset or something,” He said, grinning wickedly. “Just get closer,” He motioned toward him.

You playfully scoffed as you leaned in, trying not to roll your eyes at his implication. A romantic atmosphere was the least of your worries.

“You said you wouldn’t make fun of me,” You mumbled, stepping forward and shifting your gaze upward to meet Eddie’s.

“I said I wouldn’t laugh, I never said I wouldn’t tease you,” Eddie countered. He swung his arm around your hip, pulling you even closer.

You let out a soft gasp as he grabbed you. You cleared your throat.

“Fine, whatever, just tell me what to do first,” You said, feigning impatience.

“Don’t get an attitude with me,” Eddie said with a smirk.

He was enjoying this power that he suddenly had over you. He’d never seen you this nervous before. He was used to you having a witty comeback or retort to counter anything and everything he said, but you were flustered and vulnerable in front of him.

He chuckled as you asked him what to do next, and he grabbed your other hip, so you were standing flush against him.

“Just relax,” He brought his face down closer to yours, your noses nearly touching.

You could hear a gulp clearly in your ears. You tried to relax your shoulders and empty your mind. Eddie then pressed a chaste kiss to your lips, so softly you barely felt it, as if it was a butterfly flapping its wings on you. He was unsatisfied at the quickness and subtly it had, so he decided to do it once more, this time with more enthusiasm.

You were in no state to refuse him. With your eyes closed, you were left to only feel; his breath that tickled your face and his lips that were pillow-soft on yours. He was surprised at how willing you were underneath his touch. Normally you were strong-willed and stubborn. But now, you were soft and quiet. His mouth moved against yours, molding his lips to yours perfectly. His breathing grew stronger as he kissed you, forcefully exhaling through his nostrils.

Eddie pulled back after the second kiss, his eyes slowly fluttering open. It was more of a real kiss, a proper one. To his surprise, he found himself coming undone at the feeling and the thought of you. The kiss completely morphed his view of you as just another person he had grown up knowing and caring for, to someone he didn’t want to let go of.

Eddie’s emotions slowly started to unravel. He always pushed away these thoughts of you or rationalized them in his head. But now, as he had you pinned against the car, his chest against yours, and his fingers tangled in your hair, he was struggling to keep his feelings in check.

You both stared at each other for a moment in silence, standing there frozen in each other’s arms. You were the first to pull away. It shocked you because it actually happened, but also because you enjoyed it. Your body reacted in ways you never experienced before. Your skin was flushed and your heart pounded harshly against your ribs. Fight or flight kicked in, and you decided you had to flee.

“I should go. It’s late and mom’s expecting me to be there for dinner,” You sputtered, halting the silence. “Thank you so much for um… doing all this,”

You gave Eddie one more quick hug before storming off inside your home.

“Oh shit…” Eddie muttered to himself.

He realized then and there he had feelings for you. This sent him into a spiral as he had his back pressed to his van with his chest heaving. You were leaving for college soon and he needed to make a move before he lost you forever.

~~~

Eddie came to see you around the same time the next day. He sheepishly rang the doorbell, then shoved his hands back in his pockets. You opened the door looking at him puzzled.

“Eddie? What are you doing here? We don’t have to get on the road for another ten hours,” You asked, stepping out and closing your front door.

“Hey, yeah, I know. I just have something a little urgent I gotta tell you. Can we go sit in the van?” He pointed with a head nod. He looked worried. You followed him to the back of his opened van, taking a seat beside him.

“Everything okay?” You asked, attempting to decipher his pained look.

Eddie was trying his absolute hardest to hold back his anxiety, but he knew you could see right through him. His hands were shoved in his pockets to stop himself from fidgeting, and he was rocking back and forth on his feet awkwardly. He didn’t know how to word his thoughts at that moment.

Once he was seated with you in the back of the van, he closed the door for some privacy. He was looking down at the ground, avoiding eye contact, before he finally spoke up.

Eddie took a deep breath before speaking, still avoiding eye contact with you. “Yeah, sort of. There’s just something I really need to tell you before we leave tomorrow.”

His mind was racing as he tried to put his thoughts together. How was he going to explain his newly found feelings to his closest friend?

“Oh? Well, I’m sure I don’t gotta remind you that you can tell me anything. What’s going on?” You asked curiously, but light-hearted, hoping to alleviate his anxiety over the conversation.

You tried not to read too much into his expressions, but you noticed that his demeanor was a whole lot like yours from the night before. Eddie chuckled slightly at your words, knowing how much truth there was behind them. You were right, you were his best friend. And he could tell you anything. That also scared him, because what he needed to tell you just so happened to be something he didn’t even fully process yet. He finally looked up at you and met your eyes, but for a split second before looking away again.

He let out a shaky breath, “Yeah I know you’re my best friend, which is why I feel like I should tell you this before you leave tomorrow. I don’t want you to go away thinking I couldn’t man up and tell you my true feelings.”

“True feelings?” You repeated, your voice trembling as you were piecing together what he was trying to say.

Once you did your mouth hung open and your eyes rapidly blinked in shock. You placed a hand on his knee, keeping his attention on you.

“Eddie, what exactly are you trying to say?”

He finally looked up at you and held your eye contact for a couple of seconds.

“God, this is even more embarrassing to say than you asking me to kiss you,” He muttered.

He looked back down to your hand on his knee and he placed his on top of it. “I think I have feelings for you.”

With your predictions confirmed, you were completely beside yourself. You shook your head in confusion.

“I thought- but we’re friends-” You said instinctively.

Eddie saw your stammering and became even more nervous. “I know. I know we were totally in agreement and complete understanding yesterday before that kiss happened, but it made me realize so much and I-“

You interrupted him by cupping his cheek, bringing him into a kiss that matched last night’s urgency. This time you were in control. Your lack of experience or confidence mattered very little. You poured your feelings, all the unspoken affection you had for him finally manifesting in this one action.

“I feel the same. I wanna be more than friends too,” You confessed quietly as you pulled away.

When you leaned in to kiss him, Eddie felt the tension melt away. Suddenly all his nervous energy faded away as your lips touched his. He let out a breathless gasp as you pulled away and then his mind processed what you had said. A grin crept onto his face at your words.

“Yeah? You really mean it?” He asked, bringing a hand to your cheek and looking into your eyes.

Then his smile fell again as he realized the circumstances. “But what about when you leave for college?”

You refused to let school get in between each other. This would not be the end.

“I’m only an hour away,” You said starry-eyed as you brushed your thumb over his cheek. “We’ll make trips out to each other and I’ll be home for every semester break,”

Your tendency to over-plan was working its magic once again. Your heart and mind were racing as you felt his stubble underneath your fingertips.

“I promise I’ll call you every night after class is over and write you cheesy letters all the time,” Your voice was shaky but full of hope. “What do you say, Eddie?”

He was always so in awe of your determination, and how it could transform a problem into a plan. He smiled at your list of promises and ideas, knowing deep down that you always managed to get what you wanted or find a way to make it work. He loved that about you.

“I say you’re a lunatic for wanting to have a long-distance thing with me. But, I don’t care. I like the sound of all that,” Eddie shook his head before bringing himself to kiss you.

[amsznn]

heyy i love your writing! idk if this is where you take requests or not or if you do requests but i have a kinda specific one? could you do one with matt where y/n has her own small, cozy home, and she and matt kinda unspokenly like each other and hang out alone all the time? like they're super close and flirt low key all the time in small, sweet ways, and they're "just friends" but could definitely be found watching a scary movie alone together in her super cozy room *sorta* cuddling? going on late night drives together and talking for hours?? that kinda relationship! like id just LOVEE for you to write about a breezy fall night, her bedroom windows open, fall scented candles in her room, homemade chocolate chip cookies, and a scary movie kinda cuddled up with matt under thick blankets? but they obviously like each other a lot and he's the first one to tell her and share really cute kisses??? you know?? like matt can't fully focus on the movie because his heart is beating out of his chest with super cute feelings for y/n. just lots of fluff, cozy fall vibes, nothing super cringey! i hope i got the very specific vibe across haha!

CAN WE BE MORE? - m. sturniolo ⋆⭒˚.

A/N: TYSM for this request, its soo good and hopefully you enjoy reading my take on it!

-

no one was more excited for fall like you and your best friend matt were. in your eyes, fall was when you thrived the most. with the nice breeze, to the crunch of the leaves under your converse as you make yourself up your driveway, nothing could compare.

opening up the door to your small apartment, you immediately felt at ease. quickly kicking off your shoes, you made your way to your living room that was sorta a mess from yesterday’s activities. the triplets came over to bake cookies with you, but chris ended up crashing on the couch. it was no big deal though, you loved the triplets. maybe sometimes you had a little more love for one.

snapping out of your thoughts, you checked your phone to see the time. 5:30. the triplets would be coming over once again so you could have your anual scary movie session.

the day went on with you cleaning every crevasse of your house, of course knowing it would go back to it’s horrid state after the boys got there. then you made your way to your room, looking around to see if anything was out of place. you noticed that matt’s blanket was hanging off your bed so you made way to grab it. matt sometimes liked sleeping over to get away from all the chaos. it was normal for your friendship with him. nothing ever really happened though.

although you loved all three of them, you couldn’t help but wish for some more alone time with matt. maybe it was selfish but you couldn’t ignore the way your heart pounded ten times faster whenever he was around, or when he would sneak glances at you thinking you weren’t looking. maybe it was all in your head, you thought to yourself.

the time was now 6:20, and the sun had already fully set, which made for a cozy environment in your house with the lights dimmed, and pumpkin scented candles flickering. you also made a mental note to check on the cookies you put under the oven.

a few minutes later you heard your front door start to open. it didn’t alarm you since the triplets had an extra key. well, matt had an extra key. “y/n?” you heard a familiar voice call out from the hallway. you couldn’t hide your excited expression as you made your way towards the voice.

you expected to be bombarded by nick, and chris as well but nope, it was only matt. “hey, where are your brothers?” you asked, taking the bag of snacks out of his hands.

shuffling to take his shoes off matt says, “well, i thought it’d be better if it was just us.” you blinked for a couple of moments before smiling. “sure why not, maybe we can actually finish the movie this time.” you chuckled, before making your way to the kitchen, with matt following closely behind you.

he sighed when he smelled the aroma of the cookies surrounding the area. he always secretly loved coming over alone. he liked spending time with just you. of course you guys hang out occasionally like going to random food places together, or heading to the thrift store, but something was different when just hanging out at your house. over the years it’s become like a safe place for matt where he can escape from the world for a little bit. you were his escape. except how does he tell you that?

he watched as you opened the oven to take the cookies out, forgetting about oven mitts, and heat. “hot! hot! hot!” you shouted but refusing to drop your cookies on the floor. matt quickly made his way to you with and oven mitt and placed the cookies on the counter before turning to you. “are you okay??” he asked while gently taking your hands to inspect your burns.

it was nothing fatal, nothing cold water and vaseline couldn’t fix. he led you to the sink and held your hand under the cold water. “stay right here, okay? i’ll go get some vaseline.” matt knew his way around your house like the back of his hand, so he came back with the vaseline in no time. taking your hand out of the water, he gently dried it with a towel, before applying the vaseline to it.

you scrunched your face up at the uncomfortable contact which matt seemed to notice. “i know, i know, but this is what happens when you forget the fucking oven mitt”

you couldnt help but laugh. “hey, i just wanted my cookies.” matt softly smiled before letting your hand go. you both stood there for what seemed like an eternity just staring at each other. until you realized the oven was still on. (id burn the house down yall)

-

after that whole fiasco, you and matt ended up settling down on the couch to watch your favorite scary movie. there wasn’t a lot of space between you two since you liked being close to matt whenever watching these movies. no matter who was there you subconsciously were always closer to him.

the movie started and you were bundled up in your blanket while matt’s arm rested on the couch behind you. although the movie was creepy, the smile on your face almost never left since you felt so secure with matt. eventually though, that smile faded away as a jumpscare popped up on your screen. causing you to jump closer into matt’s side.

on the other hand, matt was freaking out. and not because of the movie. sure you guys have cuddled before, but that doesn’t mean he never longed for more. or for it to more than just two friends being close. his eyes darted between you and the screen. he was sure you could hear the pounding of his chest. he gently removed his arm from the couch and wrapped it around your shoulder, making sure to watch your reaction, not wanting to make you uncomfortable.

you sighed at the contact and rested your head on his chest further. if anyone walked in right now, they’d definitely think you were a couple. but unfortunately you were just two friends as of right now.

eventually the movie ended, but you and matt’s position on the couch didn’t. his arm was still around you, afraid that if he’d move just a little, you’d move away. you looked up at matt and found him staring right back at you. this made you shift up, to properly sit. “what?” you asked him.

matt’s mouth only opened and closed. desperately trying to find the right words. eventually he just sighed, letting everything out. “y/n, i know we’ve been friends for a while but i really cant keep ignoring my feelings like this.” matt shifted on the couch as you listened, worried that you did something wrong.

“i like you, or maybe love im not sure, but i do know that you mean so much to me, and just being friends is killing me.” matt paused for a moment to catch his breath from rambling so much. “i just want to be more.”

“you have no idea how much ive been wanting to hear that from you.” you softly laughed as you watched matt’s face soften. “i love you too, matt.”

matt only smiled as he brought you into a hug, resting his head on your shoulder. “can i kiss you?” he asks, close to a whisper. you nodded before wrapping your arms around his neck. matt smiled at this and leaned in, before his lips landed on yours. matt’s arms made their way down your body and landed on the sides of your waste, trying to pull you in closer.

it felt like your heart was going to explode at any moment with the way matt’s lips were moving against yours. he was gentle, but passionate. matt pecked your lips a couple of times before pulling back and holding you there.

“so, can i be your boyfriend?” he asks, bringing his hand up to caress your face.

“of course you can.”

-

A/N: i really hope this is what you meant / wanted. this was an amazing first request, i was literally smiling while reading it. If anything, message me if you want anything added or changed and leave some more requests!

also ty guys so so much for the love on my recenr works, its so crazy, love you all <3

[tokyo-terror]

GENERAL RELATIONSHIP HCS !

characters: 141 + graves

phillip graves:

☆ southern boy lvl rizz, only he has absolutely zero rizz. the first time he met you he almost exploded because he's not used to talking to non-military people, what else is he supposed to talk abt other than unit stuff??

☆ probably gets his ideas from random movies he saw when he was younger (the black and white cowboy ones, but make it less misogynistic). classic flowers at your doorstep with the awkward :] kinda smile.

☆ can cook but never gets the chance to do it because he's always at the base, so the first thing he does when he spends the night he cooks a full course meal (he fucks up the dessert but it's ok 🤞)

☆ random gifts and acts of service is this man's lovee language, and it goes both ways. he melts at being given little things and is always ready to help around the house without being asked.

simon "ghost" riley:

☆ NOT A HARDASS!!! leave my bbg alone .. he's a very sweet guy. he's not very used to not being alone, so he relies on banter and easy conversation to fully enjoy and get used to a person's presence. not very fond of labels, but he finds comfort in the agreement of being each others.

☆ he's always willing to put himself on the line for you, even when his own comfort is at stake. so he tends to be a bit self-destructive if he accidentally goes too fast, he relies on a balance of being able to count on you for a steady rhythm

☆ follows you (and soap) around like a lost dog a lot, he just enjoys being able to be around people he trusts. especially when he's able to joke abt stuff that's happening in the moment, lots of food puns when cooking.

☆ stomach sleeper 100%. lets you lay on top of him so he can be weighed down and surrounded by his comfort items. can't sleep without at least 5 weighted blankets + you so warm nights are very common, but he runs cold so it's not a problem.

john "soap" mactavish:

☆ very work-focused guy, so he likes to plan his schedule around missions and you. always double-checking and asking what works best for you. if schedules don't line up, the next outing tends to always have a surprise.

☆ (canonically) scared of dogs, so whenever he passes by pet shops with you he always gets happy to see all the other animals but avoids the parts of the shop with the dogs. tries to talk you into getting obscure animals often, ends up with a cat that he tries naming sgt whiskers. it's named kevin instead bc animals w human names >>

☆ he chews on a lot of things when he's working with bombs, so his habits transfer onto you. he's always absent-mindedly chewing on something when having quiet moments with you, even trying to chew on you if you let him

☆ unironically very proud of being scottish (he's so real), so he likes bringing things from his home into yours. very big on the idea of blending and sharing stuff, so he likes getting things that are common in your country and vice versa :)

kyle "gaz" garrick:

☆ not shy, but a very hesitant and nervous guy. he takes a bit to build up enough of a relationship with you to where he asks you out because he's nervous to let people into his life that could potentially get hurt/end up with his dogtags.

☆ he's on the snarky side with his humor, always tending to take little jabs at the people around him to make you laugh. he loves making you laugh, probably has the candid videos of you laughing so he can play them while he's away on missions

☆ shower routine that he cannot seem to break when he's home, he always ends up bringing military issues soaps and towels from base because he swears it's the best (it's not). please give that boy some dove 🙏 he secretly (not really, he's very open abt it) loves the strawberry-scented dove soaps.

☆ collects different buttons from outfits he wears when they eventually pop off, so he starts collecting yours too. jeans that don't fit? he already has the buttons in a box with your name on it. old shirt of his that you wore? in the box.

☆ old man rizz 😿 religiously meets up with friends to play poker. he ends up teaching you how to play and lets you win because he thinks it's endearing. cannot play chess though, so he never plays bc he wants to impress you

john price:

☆ talks highly of his unit to you, and always tells his unit that his spouse wouldn't approve of what they're doing when they go against orders. the 141 walks on eggshells around you until price laughs and fesses up about lying

☆ beard routine, type of guy that has special oils and conditioners specifically for his beard. it becomes a nightly routine when he's off the field to let you do it for him after he showers. splurges and gets you hair/beard care stuff too.

☆ takes you fishing when he goes on leave. if you're not into fishing he just lets you sit in the boat and relax while he does all the work, but he enjoys it when you take an interest in his hobbies. gets you your own fishing rod and has you look up new bait ideas (he can't figure out phones).

[joi-me-hoi-me-noi]

Coach Ukai’s wife HCs

A/n: Live, love and laugh being this addicts wife LOL!!! Please enjoy and treat yourself to a nice hot drink.

✎﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

Now you were the one who told him to go and help those kids

You did kinda hype him up about 'being the best volleyball coach there is' lol

He was hesitant but he did it for you and them...

"Come on Keishin, those kids need you..." He hums while smoking his cigarette, looking away from you. You crouch down in front of the counter, tilt your head to the side and look up at him. "Babe..." His eyes dart down to your doe eyes. "Please baby... it would be great for you besides doing this." Your hand wipes on the countertop before you stand up fully. He puts out his cigarette and stands from his folding chair. "You're-- you're right." He leans forward and kisses you. He takes off his apron and walks out the store. He comes back not even seconds later. You wave your hand at him. "I got the store! Go ahead." He smiles, lifts a hand and then heads down to the school. He comes back with a Karasuno jacket and thanks you for pushing him.

✎﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

You came to his first practice since he had forgot his lunch at home.

As soon as you came in the gym, the boys and even the managers looked over at you.

Needless to say, they were in shock.

You stood at the entrance at the gym with a wrapped bento in hand. Your husband was watching the practice match intently, brows furrowed but relaxed. You couldn't help but smile and gush about how handsome he is in your head. You lightly knocked on the opened door causing his eyes to drift to you. "You forgot this at home..." You show off the cutely wrapped bento before placing it in his open palms. You kiss his cheek and wish him well before leaving. He stands there for a bit, a soft smile on his face. He then realizes that he wasn't hearing any sneakers or the ball being hit and looked over at the practice match. They all stopped to look at what he had going on. "Who was that?!" Nishinoya blurted out. "NONE OF YOUR BUSINESS, RUN 2 LAPS!"

Needless to say, Nishinoya had a couple of dirty looks from the rest of his teammates.

✎﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

You were hanging out with your hubby when a small orange-headed kid ran over, screaming out his name...

And- jumping...

Really high...

He introduced himself to you and you did the same

"Wait... Ukai?" "Yeah, Ukai Y/n... is something wrong?" "COACH UKAI IS MARRIED?!"

You couldn't help but chuckle at the boy

He was so cute

He was asking Ukai about something to help him with his quick attacks

You smugly look over at your husband and nudge his arm

He knew what was coming...

You opened your car door and smiled. It was one of your favorite places to go and where one of your favorite people resided. "Come on Hinata." Ukai walks next to you and Hinata walks in front, going through the wooden archway. Ukai and Hinata go through first. You hear talking and then you hear Hinata scream. You peek your head through the archway and make eye contact with your father-in-law. "Ah Y/n, my favorite daughter-in-law. How's your day?" "Pretty good, how about yours." You trail off a bit when you see the scene in front of you. Ukai laid out with one sandal half-way on his foot and the other on the other side of the backyard and Hinata in complete shock. You place your hand on Hinata's shoulder and turn to face Ikkei. "He needs to improve his quick attacks and overall work in volleyball. I see you have some kind of camp going on and, if it wouldn't be too much, could you help him out?" "Of course Y/n. Come on kid." You gently push him forward and smile as he fits right in. You look over at Keishin, trying to hold in your laugh as he puts his sandals back on. "Are you okay?" He grumbles, paces over to you and rests his head on your shoulder. "I guess not...I'm going to help your dad with the camp." His head perks up immediately, like he couldn't believe you'd suggest such a thing. "The old man can handle himself." Next thing you know, he's getting thrown again by his own father. You look away to stop yourself from cracking up. "Would you like some tea or water Y/n?" "Oh yes, I'll grab it. Do you want anything?" He shakes his head as you disappear into his house, grabbing a bottle of water for yourself and your husband. You come out in seconds, placing a bottle right by Ukai's face. You smile at him and then sit down next to Ikkei, watching the kids.

Bro got his ass handed to him twice in one day

BY HIS OWN FATHER BYEEEEE

It was so funny and somehow you handled it

Almost...

✎﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

You had a pretty good relationship with all the Karasuno boys now

You went to their games, helped out and kept your husband in check

Now, your first game was amazing

You were cheering for the them the best you could

And they'd always look over at you with big smiles

Even Coach Ukai would have a small smirk on his face

The boys tease him for it lmao

But after the game was over, you forgot something in the gym

And you found Kyoko who had a bento box in her hands

"I think it's Hinata's..." "Oh really? It's so cute." You both were so busy gushing over Hinata's cute bento box that you didn't see the two boys in front of you. They smirked at you both and leaned down slightly. "Well, well, well... what do we have here?" You move Kyoko behind you a bit and look up at the boys. "Two women trying to get out of this gym...now if you'll excuse us." You try to go past but they block your way. "Wait a second, can I have one of your numbers?" "...I'm married." He holds out his phone, waiting for one of you to take it. You both kept denying him of a phone number and then you hear a loud yell. "HEY!" It was Hinata. He ran over and saved you both from the crazy school boys who couldn't take a hint. "She's married to my coach..." "Oh shit, I thought she was kidding." You just sighed and rubbed your head before leaving the gym with the Karasuno manager and Hinata in front of you.

And you bet Hinata told his teammates what happened

Almost all of them were going off the rails.

Especially Nishinoya, Hinata and Tanaka

Ukai thought it was hilarious because you, and I quote...

'don't look that young'

The glare he got from you could shake the whole damn planet

You forgave him soon after and sat next to him

You both fell asleep on the bus

And woke up to a bunch of pictures of you two being airdropped to your phones.

✎﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

Masterlist -> link

[heavenlymorals]

Hi! I really enjoy your posts and I was hoping to see if you can answer this question for me. I want to write an Arthur x reader fic, but I want to try writing a more canon Arthur instead of a fanon Arthur. So if you're able to, what do you think Arthur would be like as husband or partner? Thank you! 🩵🩵

Arthur as a Husband (Arthur x Fem! Reader)

Thank you so much ❤️ I'm glad you like my posts, that makes me happy ❤️❤️

And boy, that's kinda a loaded question considering how vast the Arthur x Reader side of the fandom is, so this might be a bit controversial but here we go:

Also, these are all of my thoughts based on my past posts on Arthur. None of them are actually canon as far as I know nor am I presenting them to be canon. These are all just my thoughts based on what I've noticed in the game.

I genuinely think that Arthur would be a great husband BUT he'd be a great husband in the context of the 1800s.

He would never lay his hands on you. He would never disrespect you. Any man try to do anything to you, Arthur would go ballistic. He'd always defend his wife from disrespect. He would always carry your luggage. He would always be a gentleman and assist you in getting on a horse or a wagon. He'd make sure you're comfortable in any way he can. He would never want you to over exert yourself. He would love you to the point of devotion and given how his devotion works for the gang, it'd be priceless. He'd make sure to treat you to the fullest on every date. He'd want to impress you. He would love you most ardently and most fully. If he had sons, he'd make sure to always set a good example on how men should treat their wives/partners.

Very sweet, I know, but again- this is in the context of the 1800s.

I think Arthur, give his attitudes regarding gender roles, would be suited with a woman who believes in the same thing, which given the time period wasn't rare.

Arthur would protect, provide, and do all the traditional things that men were expected to do and he'd do them well enough to where you would never have to worry about things like money, protection, or him taking care of you and honoring you. He'd love you to devotion.

But where he'd do a man's duty, he'd expect you to do the woman's duty, and just how he'd love you to devotion, he'd expect the same. He would never let you do "men's work" if he can help it, unless y'all are living in a super tough environment where you would need to help him here and there, but he'd still do the vast majority of the hard work, and he'd expect a clean place to live, food, and all that domestic stuff from you. If the both of you are able to connect with that dynamic, than Arthur would honestly be a phenomenal husband. He'd be the model husband in the traditional relationship.

I also think respect would be a big thing too. You'd probably both tease each other and love it, but there has to be respect and understanding otherwise he would go off. Note how quick he was able to go off and raise his voice at Mary when she started disrespecting his life style yet chooses to want to use the skills he attained from that lifestyle to help her with her father. He also does it in public where everyone could hear and he only stops when he sees that it was deeply distressing to Mary after she asks him to be kind to her. I realized pretty quick that Arthur is not as patient or pacified as John when Abigail chews into him.

However, I also think he'd be very understanding and open minded to you if you seriously want to talk to him. Communication would be key between both of you and he'd try to understand your thoughts as best as he can and try to make you happy if he could, but again, he'd also expect the same of you.

It's a two way street in different ways. That's the best way I can put it. He'd love you to devotion, given that both of you are comfortable and happy with that traditional dynamic. Arthur would protect you, provide for you, make sure you are always comfortable and never destitute, and in return, he'd expect you to be there for him.

Hope you enjoyed that ❤️ And again, these are just my thoughts based on what I've noticed in canon. Happy writing! ❤️❤️❤️

[adeliniel]

SFW alphabet | Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen

It's been 2 years since I wrote anything! Such a long pause for me. But Dune brought me back. Happy to write again!

Please, enjoy and let me know what you think^^

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

As a surprise for you he’s not that affectionate in public. Feyd might hold your hand or touch your shoulder, just to remind everyone who you belong to, but he doesn’t really need to prove anything to anyone. Things change dramatically when you two are in private. Feyd doesn’t talk much, he prefers to express himself through touching. Depending on the mood, it doesn’t always mean a nice, gentle touch. It can be rough and demanding, or light, almost teasing as well. But he tries to make sure that you’re on the same page and he’s not hurting you deliberately. 

B = Body (Their favorite body part of their partner, why? Do they like touch?)

Eyes. He likes how you look away, your cheeks red, when he stares you right in the eyes. He likes your tender gaze when he looks back at you with so much desire to be intimate, to share something only you two can understand.

Feyd is more into touching than talking. He knows his body well and he can express more with just a simple touch. He has an opinion that talking is just a wasted effort and that the body never lies, so why waste precious time when he can show you his true feelings right there simply using the body language.     

C = Courtship (What do they do to take your attention?)

Na Baron has such a famous and intriguing personality, he doesn't have to do much to attract your attention. People either want to know him, or prefer to stay as far away as possible to not get into trouble.

It’s you who one day caught yourself thinking about him more than usual. Wanting to have at least one more look at him, you started taking longer ways to your chambers, just in case Feyd is wandering around the station sometime late at night.  

D = Domestic (Are they the type to settle down with you? Are they willing to help with chores? What is your daily routine with them?)

Wherever he goes - you go with him. You are his family and Feyd has no intentions to leave you behind. You’re his wife and he wants you right beside him.

E = Espousal (Do they want to marry you eventually? Who proposes to who?)

Of course. That’s the only way he sees your future together. Not just tradition, not just necessity, but a way of confirming how serious and precious this relationship is. It was kind of mutual decision, Feyd did a proper proposal anyway.

(Although forget about kneeling, sweet words and typical "Will you marry me?", cause it wasn't even a question.

F = Fragile (How protective are they of you? If they are, how do they show this?)

Absolutely knows that you’re fully capable of defending yourself if needed, knows that you can stand up for yourself and would never interfere unless he senses a real danger. Feyd gets a great pleasure out of watching how independent and confident his darling is. And even more when he sees you putting his brother to his place (below you).

G = Gifts (What type of gifts do they give their s/o? Do they like receiving gifts?)

Feyd is not big on gifts. You already have so many things, everything you want is there, he feels like whatever he chooses, it won't be worth it. If only he could give you, say, a planet, that would make a great gift. Just enough to show you the depth of his feelings.

Nor is he huge on receiving presents. In fact, there’s nothing you can give him that he doesn’t already have. Wealth, power, glory and love - Feyd is blessed to have it all. The best gift you can give him - your full presence and loyalty. And an heir.  

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

He didn’t really understand what’s so special about hugs at the start, but grew to kinda like them as the time passed. Although he likes physical touch and that’s how he usually shows affection, Feyd thinks that hugs are just a substitute for something more significant. He’d rather hold your hands or grip his hands around your neck. He will also definitely choose stroking, petting and/or choking over hugs.   

I = Intimacy (How romantic are they? Do they have problems with intimacy?) 

Not that Feyd has particular problems with intimacy, he just doesn’t know what to do. Playing with you is easy, but being present and real is challenging. It took a lot of time before he could put his smirk down and look you straight in the eyes with his heart wide open, showing his naked insecurities.  

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

Jealousy is, probably, his biggest insecurity. He knows that he’s good, but sometimes he questions himself whether you find him good enough. Despite his power and status, Feyd knows that there are other men and he can’t help but compare himself to them.

Noone knows about it, even you for a long time, because he never talks about it. He never shows when he’s really jealous. He does play with you sometimes, pretending to punish you out of jealousy, but it is never the case of his real feelings. He keeps it all to himself.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

All that you can and can’t imagine. He starts slowly and then ends up biting your lips and tongue. He likes the power it gives him over you, likes the taste of your blood, he likes to dominate and to use his opportunities.

And more than that he loves that you reciprocate it, that you show your passion, you express your love and loyalty to him. He does like that it goes both ways. He likes to feel that both of you are alive and feeling.

Recently Feyd has discovered that pleasant feeling when you kiss the back of his neck. it gives him goosebumps and he can’t get over it.     

L = Love language (What’s their love language?)

Touch. He doesn’t need words to express his feelings when he can just touch you. Feyd uses his hands, mouth, tongue to love and punish you, to express his worries, anger, to be gentle or to be rude. Years of training made him a great master of his body and he’s convinced that his body language is way better than him talking.   

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

He’s usually awake and gone long before you get up. But on those rare occasions when he doesn’t need to be anywhere early, he’d wake you up just because he’s bored.

N = Nicknames (What do they call you? What do you call them?)

Was happy when you moved from calling him Na-Baron to just simply calling him by his name. He finds it intimate enough and doesn’t see a point in creating nicknames. 

He tried to say “My love” a couple of times, but didn’t really feel into it, so he stopped.

O = Overture (How did everything start?)

Slowly and way less serious. Feyd mocked around quite a bit before actually growing feelings towards you. You didn’t expect much, considering the difference between your social positions, but the man of his power can do whatever he wants and choose whoever he desires. You felt you were lucky enough to fall in love with him before he approached you with his confession.

“Possessive” you thought, accepting Feyd’s invitation to visit him in his room that night.

(To your biggest surprise nothing sexual happened. Instead you met a deadly serious Na-Baron telling you about his plans to build a long-term relationship with you.)  

P = Pace (Are they fast-paced in a relationship? Or do they like to take things slow?)

Feyd is unexpectedly chill in the relationship. Apart from all the passion and desire, he smells a sense of security, he knows that you’re not playing around, that you’re not going anywhere, so there’s no need for drama. No need to rush when you have the eternity ahead to enjoy each other. 

Q = Queen/King (Who takes the initiative in relationships?)

Absolutely, 99%, he’s the lead. Even though he likes to play games, where he pretends to give you control over him and lets you dominate, it never goes beyond the bedroom door.

R = Remembrance (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

The night when you first had sex. That tingling feeling of something completely new happening, so expected and desired. Exciting moment of mutual trust. Feyd’s fascination, seeing you wanting him just as much, feeling that you’re not afraid, even knowing who and how he is. Holding and having you all for himself, and even more than that - belonging.

 It was no vanilla, rather a night full of passion, a bit rough, but definitely long and enormously pleasant.

S = Salvage (What issues does this relationship help him to cope with?)

Feyd doesn’t have many insecurities, but for a long time he felt like he can’t find a suitable partner, and it made him feel like he’s lacking something significant in his power. A partner that’d be strong enough to put up with his character. Someone not just for breeding, but to show the world that he has it all.

Marrying you gave him more control over his social status and made his life complete. Love is a nice addition to it, but it also cured him from feeling not good enough.

T = Tiny (How are they around children?)

Children are not an option, they are an obligation, you knew it from the very beginning. But it doesn’t necessarily feel like a burden. It has to happen sooner or later, so Feyd is generally looking forward to it.

The idea of being able to create something all by himself, without his uncle’s or brother’s influence or power, makes him feel really proud of himself. And you.

U = Ulterior (What’s their secret?)

Quite rare, but he feels tired. Feyd doesn’t want anyone to know or see him like it. He’s afraid that it will affect the way others perceive him. And so he disappears. Sometimes for hours, sometimes for days.

It scared the shit out of you when it happened for the first time. You genuinely thought he died in a battle. But you got used to it with time, and learnt not to disturb him in moments like these.    

V = Vulnerable (How long until they can be vulnerable around their s/o? What are they like in this state?)

No surprise it takes quite a while. He’s longing to be seen and heard, but it also takes a lot out of him to start sharing. Not that he’s afraid of being ridiculed or betrayed (he’d simply kill you, if this happens). He worries that if he starts talking, he might not want to stop. Having someone loving and caring listening to him with no judgment is something completely new in Feyd’s experience. And for a long time he doesn't know how to address it. 

W = Wound (How do they feel about exposing their scars/injuries?)

Feyd is proud of his wounds and scars. His masochistic side induces him to mutilate himself, and the sadist inside of him prefers to do it right in front of you. Just to enjoy that look of confusion and disgust on your face. It really turns him on.

As much as that he likes when after this little play you take care of his wounds and cause him some more pain.      

X = Xtra (A random headcanon about your relationship)

Feyd LOVES to be spoiled and to have your undivided attention. Something he never had before. He wants it all, all the time. Whether he’s bragging about how good he’s at fighting, or just quietly lies on his stomach while you gently stroke his back, or complaining to you how hard it is to be a Baron, he wants your full attention to his persona right there, right now.

Y = Yearning (How well do they cope when their SO isn’t with them?)

It is a really rare occasion that you are apart from each other for more than a couple of hours. Usually you just don’t have anywhere else to be. Feyd is so used to having you around, he doesn’t even think that it can be different or that you’ll disappear. And if it ever happens, he’ll set the whole universe on fire just to get you back.     

Z = Zzz (How are nights spent with them?)

Feyd is actually a nice quiet sleeper. He doesn't snore or steal the blanket, doesn’t even take your side of the bed, even though he’s used to sleeping alone. Although being busy in his new role, he spends more and more time managing tasks and goes to sleep really late, so you do get lonely nights sometimes.   

Thank you for reading!

You can find more of my writings right here