#with people more even if it's only online (I did it scared!!) | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

reignpage · 22 days ago

Text

Frat Boy!Gojo

Cosmopolitan: sober thoughts

Word Count: 6.1k Contents: their first date, cursing, a little angsty, but mostly fluffy, not proofread (barely skimmed this so again, dunno how much sense it makes)

“Before you get any bright ideas, just know I’m sharing my location with at least ten people.”

Whistling, the biggest pain in your ass saunters over to you

The moon is full, a big white orb that would otherwise bring you a lot of peace to look at but right now, only pisses you off for reasons you’d rather not spend too much time pondering. Rarely anyone comes around these parts; it’s at the very edge of the city, a half-hour drive from campus, and surrounded by miles of dull, old suburbia. You’re standing in front of a metal gate, slightly taller than you, with vines wrapping around the pickets. It swings slowly with every gust of wind, creaking before it meets the stone wall with a bang.

Gojo grimaces.

“Seriously, did you have to choose the scariest place in all of Eden? I mean, I respect the commitment to the aesthetic, but this is just crazy,” he grumbles, eyeing the cathedral from its huge marble pillars to the sharp spires piercing the night sky.

You roll your eyes. Trust him to leave the date planning to you just to complain every step of the way. You’re already regretting playing along with whatever games he’s conjured up this time, but at least you’ve got home turf advantage; you know this place like the back of your hand. There won’t be any surprises happening tonight.

Without replying, you walk off, heading straight through the gate.

“Hey, wait! Don’t leave me here. I don’t want to end up as a statistic.”

Shrugging, you say, “If you’re scared, you can go back home.”

When he doesn’t say a thing and follows you, you smile. You win. But that feeling of victory doesn’t last very long because then he starts muttering about the cobwebs and how they’re everywhere, then about the tombstones, how they’re so messy with moss covering the engravings and that ‘the spirits must definitely be like so mad about all that’, and when you don’t respond to any of his musings, he even complains about the eerie music foreshadowing his pending doom, like in Jaws.

There is no music.

“Where are we even going?” He pokes your shoulder, snatching his hand back faster than you can swat at it. “I thought we were going to, I don’t know, have a picnic under the stars and cuddle on top of someone’s grave, like Mary Shelley did.”

“How the fuck do you even know about that?”

Gojo lifts one shoulder. “Must have heard it online or something.”

You roll your eyes again — you have a feeling you’ll be doing a lot of that tonight, maybe even for the rest of your life if things go the way your parents plan. When you had first found out the village idiot is the president of the most sought-after fraternity of the most prestigious university in the country, you thought maybe no one else had stepped up. But then you found out he’s a Legacy --the Gojos have governed that fraternity since its conception -- and well, the pieces fell into place.

Mischief no doubt sparkling in your eyes, you look at him over your shoulder. His eyes are full of suspicion and when they meet yours, he becomes even more doubtful of your intentions. With a grin, you whisper, “We’re going someplace no one will hear you scream.”

“Kinky.”

That didn’t have the desired effect. How annoying. Though you don’t fail to notice how he moves in closer to you, his warmth radiating to your body through your black, fur cloak. You don’t shift away.

Gesturing for him to follow you through a gap in a wooden fence, you squeeze through to avoid splinters, pulling at your dress when a piece of lace catches on a nail. Just as you’re about to offer advice on how to contort his body to get through, he climbs over the fence and lands on his feet without stumbling, all in one quick sweep, like he’s who wanders these hallowed grounds at night and not you.

“What?” He asks when he spots your glare.

Not even those stupid sunglasses are out of place. Very annoying, indeed.

“Come quickly,” you bark, fixing your silk gloves to cover more of your skin as the chill settles in. It’s only six in the evening, and yet there’s no hint of light in the broad expanse above you, just the moon and the stars lighting your way, and occasionally your companion’s phone flashlight when he needs to look at what he’s stepped in.

He laughs. “No one’s ever said that to me before.”

“Do you make it a habit to talk about your sex life with a girl on a first date?”

“You’re the first, so not a habit. Not yet anyways.”

Screeching to a halt, your hand clutches his elbow to still him. Your jaw is slack and you’re staring, completely disbelieving. “There’s no way this is your first date. You took that girl to the casino.”

Gojo stares off into the distance as he ponders the notion, fingers tapping his chin. Then, he insists, “No, it really is my first date. And anyways, I don’t consider that night a date; she pretty much invited herself along. It was more like I was just taking her to the casino as her escort. Or maybe that does count as a date. If so, then I’ve been on a lot of dates. But none where I’ve actually used the word date. Does that even matter because —“

You wave a hand in front of his face to cut off his rambling; he talks way too much. “So, you’re telling me, I’m the first girl you’ve ever asked out on a date? That’s insane, Gojo. You hate me.”

“I don’t hate you,” he protests with a frown.

“You sure acted like you did for months,” you counter.

He insists, “I don’t hate you. Never did. I just acted out but yeah, I’m sorry. I was a dick.”

Clearing your throat, you straighten up and continue walking. “It’s fine. Water under the bridge.”

“You sure? ‘Cause I can get on my knees and beg.”

“Don’t tempt me, Gojo.”

He catches up to you and hums a playful tune, his light mood returning; Serious Gojo is gone like he never existed. “Guess that’s what you’re into, huh?”

“You’ll never know,” you snort, pushing a branch away from your face and letting it snap back into his chest, he yelps.

His hand reaches past you, lifting a thicker branch high above the both of you, before leaning close to your ear and whispering conspiratorially, “We’ll see.”

Disregarding the shiver than runs through you, you push on, moving almost on muscle memory alone. Your mind is attempting to distract itself by scanning the area, being careful not to be caught on church grounds after hours, pushing through the woodland to get to the clearing tucked away at the very back, where you go for peace and quiet.

Truthfully, you have no idea why you decided to have this date here, of all places. This place is sacred. Literally but also figuratively — this is the place you always ran to when the world got a little too loud, a little too busy and bright for you. No one else knows about this haven as far as you’re aware and you always thought you’d do anything to keep it that way. And yet, you’re showing it to him. Actually, guiding him to the place.

You should have at least blindfolded him so he couldn’t memorise the way.

Maybe you wanted to spite him by living up to his expectations and being the gothic monster that he thinks you are -- you want to scare him off before he lets his curiosity take him too close to something that might scald him. He needs to be afraid of you.

Or maybe you recognised that shadow in his eyes, the ones that suggests he’s lost as much sleep about this whole farce as you and thought he could do with a little silence.

You both arrive at a thick bush, a massive wall of a shrub towering over even Gojo. Behind you, the cathedral is only a blob, lit up by lanterns, whereas you’re both submerged in darkness; there are no streetlamps here.

“I’m totally going to be murdered here, aren’t I?” He whistles as if to say, ‘it’s been a good life, and I’ll have to just accept my fate’.

“Yeah, I was lying when I said it was all water under the bridge. I’ve actually been colluding with the devil to sacrifice your white ass.”

Gojo laughs.

He laughs a lot, but rarely like this, you note. He chuckles when his friends do something stupid like push him into the fountain, and he snorts when he reads the most recent article on The Bulletin. But you’ve never really seen him throw his head back and clutch his stomach, at least not with anyone but you. He does it when you get caught texting him under the dinner table, when you give him the middle finger from across the Quad, and that one time you bumped into him in the hallway and almost apologised before you realised it was him.

It’s the kind of laugh that’s infectious, and you hoped every time he does it that you’re somehow immune. However, when he looks at you with a brightening sparkle in his eyes, you realise you’re very much not.

You clear your throat again.

“Through here, is a very special place. You must swear you will not desecrate this place, lest the Mother Crone curse you for your treachery,” you announce, wiggling your fingers at him for extra flair.

Placing a hand on his heart, he stomps his foot like a soldier and swears, “I would never. I will take this secret to the grave.”

Satisfied, you grab the loose part of the hedge wall and pull it aside to reveal the little doorway to your secret hideout. He throws you a side glance before he ducks down and enters. You follow behind him, tucking the disguised door behind you.

He doesn’t say a thing as you zoom to the side where you grope for something in the grass, right under part of the hedge. When you feel the smooth, cold plastic, you don’t hesitate to switch it on.

Long wires of fairy lights light up, bulb by bulb, along the top of the hedge and down, like a really wide Christmas tree circling the hidden clearing. You hear him mutter a ‘woah’ under his breath as he scans the area — there’s only one thing here on the flat ground, it’s also lit up fairy lights along the top pole. It’s your most prized possession.

“You have a swing?” He shouts incredulously. Giggling like a child, he makes a run for it, jumping onto one of the two seats where he rocks back and forth on his feet. Then he’s whooping as he swings higher and higher, hair whooshing back and forth as he grins, taking in the cold autumnal air and the growing warmth of the lights. “This is freaking awesome!”

Sitting on the spare seat, you kick your feet gently so you can swing a little. Deep down there was a worry festering within, anxious that he would find this place boring, that he’d scoff at your idea of fun especially on a first date, but looking up at him, still hollering and grinning, you think, that was such a silly thought.

Gojo slows to a mild back and forth momentum and wonders, “Are you sure I’m allowed to be here? This place seems pretty private, like your own mancave or something. Do girls have a version of a mancave? ‘Womancave?”

In the corner of your eye, you see him clamber down to sit as you answer his question. “I wouldn’t have taken you here if you weren’t allowed, dumbass.”

“Yeah, well, I’m still not convinced this isn’t an elaborate scheme to murder me and hide my body in a grave.”

“Neither.” You shrug.

He laughs.

Eventually, you both swing side by side, alternating up and then down. The wind is howling a little, rustling the trees surrounding you and the moon’s obscured by dark cloud. Neither you nor he say anything to break the silence. You were also worried that you’d come to hate his presence in your safe space, finding his tall, lanky presence an irritation, but surprisingly, you don’t mind it.

It’s nice to have company.

Especially when that company is keeping his mouth shut.

“How often do you come here?”

Or not.

With a sigh, you reply, “Like twice a week. I can’t come as often as I’d like because of all the classes and stuff, not to mention all the wedding planning we have to do.”

“Guess you have it worse than me since I don’t even need to be fitted for a suit; they already have my measurements,” he muses.

“For whatever reason, it’s always the women who have to plan these things, even though it’s the men that propose.” You accidentally make eye contact with him. “Or at least, that’s how it usually goes.”

Gojo hums, a little sheepishly, before he changes the subject. “So, how did you find this place?”

“We buried my grandmother in the graveyard when I was fifteen. We were close and I took the loss pretty hard. I couldn’t stand all the people pretending they cared so I ran off, got lost and found this clearing. Well, I actually fell through the hedge, but I found it, nonetheless. And this swing was here already. I don’t know how long it’s been here or why it’s here, but it is.”

“That sounds like a fairytale.” He swivels, swinging a long leg over to straddle the seat, facing you as he leans back against the metal chain. “I’m sorry for your loss, by the way. I lost my grandmother too and it was rough.”

You saw that on the news years ago, it was one of those private family events that make the national headlines by complete virtue of the family name. Your parents grieved in public like it was their own loss and you didn’t understand why. Of course, as you got older, you became more and more acquainted with the idea of ‘reputation’ and ‘public image’, but you still feel that same distance to the concept as you did when you were but a child.

“I’m sorry for your loss,” you repeat back to him.

He shrugs. “It’s alright. I’ve got my gramps. We’re best buddies.”

“You have a lot of best buds, don’t you?”

Gojo strikes you as the kind of guy who makes friends easily, thought you question the depth of most of those friendships; sincerity is a rare phenomenon in your world.

“No,” he huffs, “I have Suguru, the girl that gave you my number, and gramps. I have lots of close friends, though.”

Considering his words, you realise you don’t have any best friends. Sure, you have friends you hang out with often, people that share your interest, that you can party with, but none you feel as strongly about as he does with those three people. You can hear it in his voice, the conviction, the pride, the confidence. And when you glance at him, you know he doesn’t even realise how defensive he sounds about his people.

How nice it must be to have someone like him as a friend.

“We could be friends, if you’d like,” he offers, and when you look at him with confusion, he adds, “You said it out loud, silly. You think I’m a good person to be friends with. Which, of course I am. I’m like super awesome.”

You burst out laughing. What he said isn’t even funny and he certainly doesn’t mean for it to be, but for some reason it is. So, you laugh, throwing your head back and clutching your stomach. He makes noises of complaints, telling you it’s rude to laugh at people. That makes you laugh harder.

“Gojo, be serious for a second. We can’t be friends, idiot,” you push out between puffs of laughter.

He frowns, lips twitching to fight back a smile at your flushed face. “Why not? We’re getting along fine right now, aren’t we?”

“Yeah, for now. But we’re going to be married. Or at least, we’re supposed to be. And think of all the complications that brings, it just doesn’t provide the conditions for a healthy friendship, especially considering our beginning. Think of all the people in our circle who had arranged marriages. How many of them get along? Like, really get along. Hell! Think about our parents.”

“Well, we could be different. We don’t have to end up like them. We can break the cycle or something.”

You stop laughing.

Something shifts in the air, like the moon’s reappeared, the wind’s slowed down, and his eyes shine just a little brighter. It’s sudden and you almost don’t notice it, almost shrug it off. But there’s a sincerity lingering between you and it demands your attention.

Fixing him a solemn look, perhaps similar to the one he gave you before, you assert, “That sounds an awful like an admission of surrender, Gojo.”

“Maybe it is.”

The speed at which he concedes, the sheer resolution in his eyes and the way he doesn’t falter when he says it all scream at you something you won’t accept. Can’t.

He grips your elbow, his long fingers wrapping around the limb with ease, demanding your attention. The sombre expression on his ghostly face haunts you. It’s like he’s shifted into a different person, into someone years older, a man burdened with great responsibility.

“I’m sorry. About how I started this year off. I regretted everything I said as soon as I said them. I can’t even remember why I said and did those things, but I definitely don’t have a good reason,” he rasped, a desperation lacing his words like he needs you to understand, like he tosses and turns over it. “I know you’re just as much a victim of this as I am, but I was facing a problem I didn’t know to solve, and I lashed out. At you. At someone who didn’t deserve it. And I’m sorry.”

You reel back, snatching your arm away. His touch burns the way ice does, and you have to rub warmth back into it, despite the layers between your skin and his. The sincerity in his eyes is alien, revealing far more about the ongoings of reality than you can absorb in one night. Confusingly, your heart is pounding to the beat of a song you’ve never heard before.

This date thing, taking him to your secret haven, giving him the opportunity to see you not as the enemy but rather as a woman was a mistake. It’s all one big mistake. It would have been fine if he had stayed as the Gojo you knew, the boisterous, obnoxious party animal that cares only about immediate gratification. But the man in front of you is not someone you can marry. He isn’t the type of man you can be around and feel absolutely nothing for.

“I’m hungry,” you mutter, standing abruptly.

He looks up at you, something passing in his eyes, almost akin to disappointment or sadness, and you can’t bear to think about what that could mean, so you simply gesture for him to follow you.

In silence, you walk back the way you came, using your phone’s flashlight to navigate through the thick haze of darkness. This was a mistake; you let him in for a second, gave him a glimpse into your life, and you aren’t even sure why. Was it because you could hear your mother’s voice telling you to do whatever it takes to drag the man to the altar or because, despite yourself, you actually wanted to see what going on a date with Gojo means?

Maybe it was both.

Or neither.

You’re losing more and more of yourself these days, doing things you’d never thought you’d do for one reason or another, and you no longer even know what you want. Your pride or your family? A marriage with Gojo or the friendship he’s offering? Is there’s a third option.

“What’d you wanna eat?” He asks, rocking back and forth on his feet as he stares up at a streetlight.

You’ve both made it back onto the main road, the swings a mile away. He didn’t press the topic more, simply walked beside you and pushed branches away like before.

It’s nearing eight in the evening and your stomach growls.

“Who said I’m eating with you?”

Gojo rolls his eyes and pokes your shoulder. With a sulky tone, he groans, “Don’t be mean. You’re hungry, I’m hungry, let’s eat. Simple!”

“Can you cook?”

He beams, sunglasses sliding down the bridge of his nose as he looks at you over them, bright eyes sparkling with what you can only guess to be mischief. You realise you really should think before you speak.

—

That’s how you find yourself in his frat house kitchen, cloak discarded, hair up and gloves off. His frat members are out, partying, he claims, so the whole house is free. When he suggested it, you looked at him like he was insane, but he only wiggled his brows.

“You scared?” He cocked his head, grinning at you in a way that made you want to punch his teeth in.

Narrowing your eyes at him, you responded, “No, of course not.”

Gojo bent his arms and rocked his head, making clucking noises that echoed in the empty street. Every note pierced your body, mocking and goading. You knew exactly what he was doing, and it was fucking working, the stupid bastard. Without responding to his accusation, you stomped over to his car and gave him a glare. He fetched his car keys and spun them on his finger with a victorious whistle.

“Grate this,” he orders.

His kitchen is huge, which is understandable for the size of the house and how many people live here. Apparently, there’s three more kitchens in the damn place, not that you believe even a quarter of the guys that live here know what a cutting board is. The kitchen is surprisingly clean, however. It’s sparkling clean.

“We have cleaners that comes in every other day,” he chuckles, noticing your looks of complete judgement whilst he boils some pasta. “But we are pretty strict on cleanliness, regardless. And everyone knows, I’m not afraid to crack the whip to keep everyone in line.”

Scoffing, you clarify, “You? Cracking whips? I find that hard to believe.”

He leans against the island you’re stationed at, the sound of water simmering filling the small space between you. Watching you grate the cheese, he hums, fingers fiddling with the lace of your sleeve. He mutters, “I know how to be serious when I need to be.”

You hum too.

Still fiddling with the fabric, you ignore his wandering hand, fingers slipping under to roll the soft lace between his fingertips. Goosebumps rise on your skin. His touch is tentative, hesitant and gentle — one would think he’s just afraid to snag the fabric, acknowledging the craftsmanship, but one glance up at him, seeing his gaze fixated on your exposed skin more than your sleeve, you know otherwise.

“Hands to yourself, Geralt.”

“If I’m Geralt, that must make you Yennefer,” he retorts. With a laugh, he pulls away, returning to the stove to tend to the pasta sauce. You don’t realise how much warmth he generated until you feel a sudden draught.

The smell of frying onions and garlic is delicious and you’re becoming more and more starved by the second. He’s agile, moving swiftly and on muscle memory as he opens drawers and cabinets to gather the things he needs.

“How often do you cook?” You ask, arm getting tired from the motion of grating the block of cheese.

Gojo shrugs and admits, “Not as often as I’d like. Weekends are for parties and pizza and all the other days, everyone’s doing their thing, studying or whatever, and eating by myself is kinda sad, so I just eat out usually.”

“How is it possible that you eat out so often but still remain so skinny?”

That was apparently the wrong thing to say because the next thing you know you’re being spun around and pressed into the island with a hard body. His arms are caging you in, keeping you still as he grins at you.

He had thrown his jacket by the door when you both walked in; his biceps bulge as he flexes. They’re so much bigger now, or maybe they were always like that. And he’s pressed so close his Adam’s apple is right in front of you, bobbing when you tilt your head back so you can meet his eyes.

“I’m plenty jacked, actually,” he brags and to add salt to the wound, he leans down, cheek brushing against yours to whisper against your ear, “wifey.”

You shove him off, snorting at his lame line. He back away with little protest. Trying to hide the heat in your face, you wash your hands, turning away from him completely.

The rest of the hour passes by in a blink of an eye, and you finally sit down at the dining table across from each other. He’s a decent cook and you pay him a compliment even though it physically hurt to do so.

“Do you not cook very often?”

“I make sandwiches and ramen, that’s as far as I know how to do,” you admit with no shame.

He pours you a cup of water and asks, “Do you not have a chef to pre-make meals for you? My father insisted I have one, but I complained to my gramps about the lack of privacy and independence, and he gave up pretty quickly.”

You pause. It’s a stupid question to ask someone, from anyone else it’d drip in condescension, but you know he’s genuinely asking and it’s a valid question, just not one you’re ready to answer. So, with a careful shrug, you say simply, “I’m fine with the way things are.”

Gojo doesn’t sense the tense quiver of your voice, or if he does, he has enough tact to ignore it, so he continues the conversation. He talks to you about what being a frat president entails, and you tell him your experiences as the Treasurer.

He also shares stories of his friends: the time ‘the gang’ snuck into the gym to put shaving cream in Toji’s locker after he had his room bubbled wrapped down to every single pair of boxers, each and every one of his friends’ drunk habits, and how he’s actually a lightweight so he sticks to beers most of the time but he hates the taste and actually much prefer cocktails.

“Wait, wait,” you say between laughs, “you drink cosmos in secret ‘cause you don’t want your frat mates knowing their president actually hates beer?”

“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up. But it isn’t my fault those things taste like wheat piss!”

You laugh harder. “They do! They totally do!”

“Has anyone ever said you have a pretty la—“

“Woah!” A voice yells out. “What’s going on here?”

You both turn to look at the wide-open door. Two men walk in, they’re in gym clothes, wide toothy grins on their faces as they stare between you and their president. You recognise them as second years, often hanging around Gojo in pictures or loitering in the Quad.

One guy, a fake blond, wolf whistles when he sees you. “Satoru, you didn’t tell us you were having a girl over. It’s been a while; we rarely even see your bestie nowadays.”

“Yeah, this is a sight for sore eyes. This place was getting too much hotdog and not enough buns, if you know what I mean.”

When they both guffaw, you grimace. Their voices are grating, like sharp notes, and despite yourself, you cower in your seat. You hate the way they’re looking at you, in half desire and half repulsion — they’re enjoying the sight of a woman in their space, but they don’t know what to make of your attire. Usually, you don’t let people like them get to you, not their comments and not their stares. But something’s different, you’re more sensitive, less guarded.

“Isn’t she your fiancé? We’ve heard all about her. The girls from Delta Sigma said she dresses like a witch, and well, they aren’t entirely wrong.”

“Get out.”

Three heads turn. Gojo’s standing; you hadn’t seen him move. He’s leaning on his fingertips, head hanging as he stares at his empty plate. No one says a thing. There’s no air in here anymore. Only silence, a grim, gut-wrenching silence.

They stammer. “H-hey, man. What’s wrong?”

“Get. Out.”

“Come on, we’re just messing around,” the fake blonde chuckles nervously.

Gojo looks up, slowly, like a creaking door. When his eyes settle on them, they stagger back with the force of his disappointment, and again with his wrath. Though you feel the tendrils of that infinite space between you, you don’t bear its impossible weight.

With his body tense, veins bulging along his arms, broad shoulders pushed back ready for something you can’t quite grasp in this moment, you realise he really is jacked. And those muscles aren’t just for show or pressing girls against marble countertops.

As great as it would be to be his friend, it’s even greater to not be his enemy. You didn’t realise it then, but you do now, if Gojo had ever really wanted to make someone disappear, he probably could have done so.

“You would do well to remember that I, as descendent of the founder of Alpha Phi Delta, have a right to terminate any fraternity brother’s membership without a need for sufficient cause. Just because I’ve never exploited that clause doesn’t mean I’m above it. So, get out. Now.”

Cheeks red and heads hung low, they walk back out without sparing you another glance.

Gojo sits back down, shoulders still tense.

The silence hasn’t disappeared, but it has lightened, much more tolerable now. With an uncertainty in your movements, you push your knife and fork together and pat your lips dry.

“Well, this has certainly been an eventful night,” you say. “I really ought to go, though.”

Gojo nods and takes your plate, leaving to go to the kitchen whilst you freshen up in the bathroom.

When you come out, he’s already waiting outside with his hands tucked in his pockets, staring up at puffs of clouds he breathes into the night sky. There’s a sombre air around him, like you’re better off not disturbing him, but when he spots you from the corner of his eye, that air evaporates and he beams, literally brightens, practically shadowing the moon.

“Hey, come on, I’ll drive you to your dorm,” he asserts with a smile.

And he does. You get into his car for the second time of the night and watch the campus blur past you. Through the ten-minute car ride, he sings along to the pop songs on the radio, bopping his head to every beat like they’re coursing through his veins.

“You don’t know these songs? Really?”

He’s completely incredulous, looking at you as if you’ve grown two heads. You roll your eyes and jokingly explain you’re committed to the aesthetic. He finds that funny. The rest of the ride continues wordlessly.

“Alright, this is me,” you announce when he parks. He climbs out the car with you, leaning against his door as you shuffle awkwardly on your feet. “Despite certain parts of the time being…stiff, should we say, I had a lot of fun. Surprisingly.”

A tinge of red colours the tips of his ears. “Yeah, me too. I expected to lose my life, or at least a few limbs, at that graveyard, so I’m pretty happy with the turnout.”

You roll your eyes. “And I’m very happy I’m not covered in pig’s blood coming out of your frat house.”

“No, closest we had to that was the pasta sauce,” he chuckles.

“Which was surprisingly delicious, by the way. You should cook more often instead of the junk food you eat.”

“Says you?” He pushes your shoulder lightly. “Miss Cup Noodles.”

“Whatever.”

The conversation dies there, laughter fading as both of you eye the doors of your dorm building. You pull your cloak tighter around you, irritated that, even though he’s just in jeans and a plain graphic tee, he’s seemingly unbothered by the temperature drop.

“You should go in,” Gojo suggests, voice softer, barely louder than a whisper.

You nod and make a step to go, but then a warm hand wraps around your wrist, tugging you back. He’s carrying the weight of it in his palm, thumb grazing your wrist. There’s electricity thrumming where he touches and you’re about to snatch your hand away before he tightens his grip.

“Just a second,” he mutters, before pulling out something from his pockets. Something black.

Your gloves.

You forgot to put them on, having left them in the kitchen.

He’s taking his time, smoothing the material over your knuckles, ensuring your fingers are tucked in properly. His thumb lingers on the curve of each finger, exploring the slopes. Your breath hitches as his hands envelope yours completely, his touch deliberate and light and there’s no other way to describe it: it’s positively reverent.

The glove slide snugly into place, a second skin but they feel new, as if fresh from the machine, still warm.

You shouldn’t let him reach for your other hand, shouldn’t just watch as he unfolds the other glove, slipping it on with much more care than you yourself had ever done. His eyes are watching the fabric consume more and more of your skin, until they meet the ends of your sleeve, and no skin remains.

“Gojo,” you breathe out.

He shakes his head, brows furrowing. “Satoru. Call me Satoru.”

When he finally looks up, your eyes meet and your pulse quickens, quick and short breaths pulling your chest up and down. You didn’t even realise one hand is clutching his shoulder whilst the other remains in his grip. And you certainly don’t notice that you’re standing much closer than before, only a hair’s breadth from finding out whether his lips are as soft and plush as his touch.

“You smell really nice,” he whispers, thumb running across your knuckles, like he’s willing warmth into your hand.

You’re so close it only takes one gust of wind to push you together, to taste what a future with him could mean, to seal the first date with something that’ll keep you up at night. Just one kiss, one bad decision and everything could fade away for a second. You could pretend he’s just a boy and you’re just a girl and this is a normal date, that you have a normal relationship and tomorrow you could go back to being arranged lovers.

His lashes flutter, so long and wispy and you’re jealous. Flickering between your eyes and your lips, you know he’s searching for any sign that you might want this just as bad as he does. You’re craning your head back, back arched to reach him, and when your chest rubs against his for a millisecond, he shuts his eyes with a groan.

“Hey! If it isn’t Gojo,” a gruff voice bellows.

You step back, gasping for air and desperately smoothing your skirt down as you give a shaky smile to the newcomer. He’s a tall, buff man wearing shorts and carrying a basketball. He pats Gojo on the back, oblivious to the tension, to the way his friend is pouting, grumbling about how he ‘ruined the moment.’

The man looks at you with a friendly enough smile, eyeing your appearance with nothing more than curiosity before he gives you one of those manly nods.

“Whatcha doing at my girl’s dorm?” He asks.

Clearing his throat, Gojo answers, “Just dropping my wi—I mean, my friend off. Yeah, just stopping by.”

The guy doesn’t look ready to stop talking. So you take the initiative to excuse yourself with an awkward kiss on the white-haired boy’s cheek and you whisper, “Goodnight...Satoru.”

You don’t wait for him to reply.

Just as you’re about to enter your dorm building, you hear a distinct, “Dude, I totally cockblocked you, didn’t I? Fuck, put that thing away. You’re gonna poke my fucking eyes out!”

You smile just as your phone pings.

#jjk fluff #Gojo x reader #gojo fluff #gojo x reader #jjk x reader #jjk crack #jjk x you #gojo satoru #modern au

887 notes · View notes

kindnessoverperfection · 2 years ago

Text

Please, if you can, take a moment to read and share this because I feel like I'm screaming underwater.

NPD (Narcissistic Personality Disorder) stigma is rampant right now, and seems to be getting progressively worse. Everyone is using it as a buzzword in the worst ways possible, spreading misinformation and hatred against a real disorder.

I could go on a long time about how this happened, why it's factually incorrect (and what the disorder actually IS), why it's harmful, and the changes I'd like to see. But to keep this concise, I'll simply link to a few posts under the cut for further reading.

The point of this post is a plea. Please help stop the spread of stigma. Even in mental health communities, even around others with personality disorders, in neurodivergent "safe" spaces, other communities I thought people would be supportive in (e.g. trans support groups, progressive spaces in general), it keeps coming up. So I'm willing to bet that a lot of people on this site need to see this.

Because it's so hard to exist in this world.

My disorder already makes me feel as if I'm worthless and unlovable, like there's something inherently wrong and damaged about me. And it's so much harder to fight that and heal when my daily life consists of:

Laughing and spending time with my friends, doing my utmost best to connect and stay present and focused on them, trying to let my guards down and be real and believe I'm lovable- when suddenly they throw out the word "narcissist" to describe horrible people or someone they hate, or the conversation turns to how evil "people with narcissistic personality disorder" are. (Seriously, you don't know which of your friends might have NPD and feels like shit when you say those things & now knows that you'd hate them if you knew.)

Trying to look up "mental health positivity for people with npd", "mental health positivity cluster bs", only to find a) none of that, and b) more of the same old vile shit that makes me feel terrible about myself.

Having a hard time (which is constant at this point) and trying to look up resources for myself, only to again, find the same stigma. And no resources.

Not having any clue how to help myself, because even the mental health field is spitting so much vitriol at people with DISORDERS (who they're supposed to be helping!) that there's no solid research or therapy programs for people like me.

Losing close friends when they find out, despite us having had a good relationship before, and them KNOWING me and knowing that I'm not like the trending image of pwNPD. Because now they only see me through the lens of stigma and misinformation.

Hearing the same stigma come up literally wherever I go. Clubs. Meetings. Any online space. At the bus stop. At the mall. At a restaurant. At work. Buzzword of the year that everyone loooves loudly throwing around with their friends or over the phone. Feels awesome for me, makes my day so much better/s

I could go on for a long time, but I'm scared no one will read/rb this if it gets too much longer.

So please. Stop using the word "narcissist" as a synonym for "abusive".

Stop bringing up people you hate who you believe to have NPD because of a stigmatizing article full of misinformation whenever someone with actual NPD opens their mouth. (Imagine if people did that with any other disorder! "Hey, I'm autistic." "Oh... my old roommate screamed at me whenever I made noise around him, and didn't understand my needs, which seems like sensory overload and difficulty with social cues. He was definitely autistic. But as long as you're self-aware and always restraining your innate desire to be an abusive asshole, you're okay I guess, maybe." ...See how offensive and ignorant that is?)

Stop preventing healthcare for people with a disorder just because it's trendy to use us as a scapegoat.

If you got this far, thank you for reading, and please share this if you can. Further reading is under the cut.

NPD Criteria, re-written by someone who actually has NPD

Stigma in the DSM

Common perception of the DSM criteria vs how someone may actually experience them (Keep in mind that this is the way I personally experience these symptoms, and that presentation can vary a lot between individuals)

"Idk, the stigma is right though, because I've known a lot of people with NPD who are jerks, so I'm going to continue to support the blockage of treatment for this condition."

(All of these were written by me, because I didn't want to link to other folks' posts without permission, but if you want to add your own links in reblogs or replies please feel free <3)

#actuallynpd #signal boost #actuallyautistic #mental health awareness #narcissistic personality disorder #people also need to realize that mental health professionals aren't immune from bias #(it really shouldn't come as a shock that the mental health field has a longstanding pattern of misunderstanding and mistreating ppl who ar #mentally ill or otherwise ND)#the first therapist i brought up NPD to like. literally pulled out the DSM bc she could barely remember the criteria. then said that there'#no way I have it because I have low self-esteem lmaoooooo #anyway throwback to being at work and chatting with a co-worker. and the conversation turning to mental health. and him saying that #he tries to stay informed and be aware and supportive of mental health conditions & that he doesn't want to be ignorant or spread harmful #misinformation. and then i mentioned that i do a lot of research into mental health stuff and i listed a bunch of things. which included #several personality disorders. one of which was NPD.#and after listening to my whole ass list he zeroed in on the NPD and immediately started talking about how narcissists are abusive and #he knew someone who had NPD and how the person who had it had an addiction and died from the addiction in a horrible way and he #was glad he did #fun times #or when i decided to be vulnerable and talk abt my self-criticism/self-hatred bc i knew my friends also struggled w that and i wanted to #support them by sharing my own coping methods. and they both(separately!) started picking and prodding at my npd through the lens of stigma #bc i'd recently opened up to them abt having it. they recognized self-hatred as a symptom and still jumped on me for it. despite me #trying to share hurt vulnerable parts of myself to help them and connect with them.#again..... fun times

8K notes · View notes

alziel · 10 months ago

Text

" Arranged Friendship "

: Male Reader

Summary: How would Luka react once he found out he had been set up with an arranged relationship with someone.

That said person was, You, who's almost as popular as Luka himself. Will he grow to like him in the future?

Warnings: Luka is a warning

himself,possessiveness,obsession, threat s, blackmail.

Requested/Not requested

At first he didn't like this idea at all, but once he realized that the fanbase will like the idea he decided to go with the plan. And so his owner scheduled a meet up with your owner along with you. The day came and you had met eachother.

Both of you already knew who you two were already because of your reputations in Alien Stage.

But he still decided to introduce himself anyways, putting up a smile and a demeanor that was welcoming but his aura said otherwise.

You didn't mind, greeting him with the same enthusiasm with no other malicious aura. The two aliens had a discussion with eachother about the arranged friendship. Luka's owner stated that this would make a huge impact towards the fanbase, bringing more popularity and secureness for the two of you.

I mean two well known singers having a collaboration and potential relationship with eachother? The fanbase will increase their likability towards the two. Luka the well known

"Prince" having a close relationship with you, specified to be a real life Siren because of how you enchant your opponents. It will surely bring alot of fans cheering and bring more support.

Both of their owners aareed with the plan andsigned a contract. They left the room to either talk more about the Collab while the two of you spend some times with each other. Once they fully left the room and closed the door, Luka resorted his face into the original calm and collected look.

"I only agreed to this so that my popularity will grow, we'll only be acquaintances nothing more." He stated sternly, obviously he did not want this arranged friendship to happen but it will help him big time. At first he expected a disappointed and an upset look from you, but you were still smiling.

"Of course! I expect nothing more than that, I won't force you to do stuff you don't wanna do.

But we still have to convince the public about our 'relationship. But I can tone it down to your comfortability!" You stated in your cheery voice, he was a bit taken back by your upbeat personality despite his strict and straightforward statement.

He looked away before humming in agreement.

You were an interesting little thing, as much as he hated to admit. He wanted to know more about you. Your reputation your status,and what his and your fans think of you. Perhaps he can find some dirt on you that he can use against if you ever step out of line.

He tried but couldn't find any dirt on you suprisingly. You were almost as popular as him and yet you barely had any haters or rumours about you. Sometimes he might even think your owner had payed someone to delete posts that would tarnish your reputation. Because he seriously could not find any.

The fans also took the announcement really well.

Some obsessive fans, mostly Luka's, did not take it well and gave death threats to you. Online only because they're scared jealous bitches.

You paid no attention to the negative reactions from.. those kind of fans--and focused on convincing the fanbase that the relationship was real.

Luka was not really a fan of people getting into his personal space. But he did like getting into people's personal space. In random moments when you're busy, he would randomly walk up to you, literally put his face close to yours to the point your noses are touching, just to say hello then walk away. leaving you there with a confused expression.

"This is [Name]! Name love his personal space."

"This is Luka! Luka also loves [Name]'s personal space."

During fan meet ups, the place is usually verycrowded. You always put a hand on his shoulder or waist just in case it gets too crowdy. The first time you did it, he flinched; but didn't exactly pulled or slapped hand away. For the entertainment you would often put your hand on his waist even though the place isn't crowded.

The fans love it.

During interviews, you would always hold his hand in which he finds odd. Whenever you answered a question in the interview you would play with his fingers. Or if he was the one answering, you could occasionally squeeze it for encouragement.

Throughout the "relationship" his owner mentioned how you were always the one engaging with physical affection. In order to convince the public, he'll need to initiate it too.

He just rolled his eyes and lazily agreed before walking away. The first time he initiated it was during one of your "dates" You were busy coming up a song to sing when he unexpectedly held your hand and leaned on you without saying anything.

You just squeeze his hand as anacknowledgement before continuing to come up with your song. After that interaction he started to become more and more affectionate.

Occasionally giving hugs, all kind of hugs really. Back hugs,side hugs, waist hugs whatever the variety. You would always return them two times the warmth. Sometimes he thinks your feelings were real or that youre maybe a good actor.

You guys know those ship edits on tiktok? The aliens would totally make them. You two would always watch it with amusement, sometimes amazed by some of their editing skills. You would always like each single edit.

Despite all the dates,affection,and loving interactions. At the end of the day he would always remind you that this was all for the public entertainment and to get more attention from the fans. On bad days, he would say rather hurtful things.

"Don't mistaken my affection to you as a real thing, none of it contain real feelings."

"Don't let it get to your head, this is nothing more than pure entertainment."

"This is just a key for more survival during Alien

Stage performance."

"We're just acquaintance, nothing more."

All what he said did hurt, a lot. But it was also true, he has to remind you that none of it was real. But at the same time you wished he didn't say those things to you, the least he could do is not remind you. You didn't sayanything, only nodding and agreeing to what he says despite the hurtful impact it had given you.

Haha, maybe you really are a masochist.

Currently you and Luka were doing a Collab performance forc-suggested by your owners for the fans. Luka as always, caught most of the fan's attention. You didn't really mind or find it upsetting, I mean he's much popular and talented than you so it was expected. You guys were down with the last line, the original plan was that the two of you were just gonna look at eachother in a loving way. But he had other plans..

While you two were singing the last line, he went even closer. You were unfazed by this, you had gotten used to him being so close to your face already. But what he did next caught you off guard..

He kissed you.

No not on the cheek or forehead. On the lips.

The cheers grew louder, the music had already stopped. But you were only focused on the feeling of his soft lips kissing yours. By then he had already pulled away, you can't help but linger more. stopped. He just smiled and looked at you with such fondness, but you already knew his kiss meant nothing to him.

After the performance you two went backstage, switching personalities. He always turned cold whenever you two weren't in public. His eyes held nothing but emptiness and disgust. You expected this but why does it still hurt? And as usual he always remind you in the end.

"The kiss meant nothing." He spat out, it made your heart ache. You hated to admit this but you grew feelings as the relationship went on. You couldn't control it really, Luka had always been a great actor. His charismatic and enthusiastic persona when he's in public, the way he's so affectionate with you and the way he talks so fondly as if he really were Inlove with you.

You couldn't help but hope he felt the same thing. It was starting to hurt so maybe letting this feeling go was for the best.

It was another start of a new season of alien stage. And it looks like your performance is the first, how lovely. You didn't really like joining Alien Stage, you never really liked seeing your opponents die. Why should someone die just because they weren't as good as their opponent. But you can't say anything about it, a sad reality.

So you always tried singing your best, constantly making your opponent feel comfortable and make them sing for fun instead of singing because they wanna live. You wanted their last moments to feel comfortable and fun rather than scared.

It's what gave you your well known title "The Siren". Many documents and news stated that you would often enchant your opponents by using your voice. Brainwashing them so that they'll lose. That was not the truth, you could tell that your past opponents enjoyed singing with you. Happy that they were able to sing with joy and not out of pressure. But you could careless about what the media thought of you. You had to practice for the performance.

Luka didn't know what to feel about you. He had already stated before that he did not have any feelings for you. You were nothing more than a mere acquaintance. But ever since this relationship had started, he started to feel more possessive about you. He always hated how you always smile to other people or aliens. The same smile you give to him, wasn't he supposed to be the only one receiving that smile?

He always hated when you give other fans affection too, whether it be a handshake or a pat on the head. He would always put his arm around yours and pull you away from them. Silently giving your fans a glare everytime they get too close. He always looked smug whenever you out your hand on his waist infront of your fans.

Throughout the relationship he started to take note of things your like,your favorites,and the type of music you like. Heck he might even know things about yourself you didn't even know off. He knows more about you. You would always try and point out the things he do but he always dismiss it by saying it could tarnish the view of the relationship.

Hm..now that he thinks of it he never really saw one of your performances with your opponents. He has heard alien's opinions and views about your performances but never really tried watching one. Maybe he should watch your performance tomorrow..

You were a bit shocked to see Luka sitting on one of the chairs in the backstage, as if he was waiting for you.

"Luka? What are you doing here, I thought you were gonna practice." You asked walking towards him, maintaining a distance from him. He silently took note of how further the distance than it normally is.

"Practicing would just bore me, I already know I'll win the round anyway." He responded lazily, you sweatdrop a bit but he wasn't exactly wrong. He can win matches without trying..

"I see but that doesn't exactly answer my question, what are you doing here?" You asked once more.

"I came to watch your performance. Is that a problem?" He asked, you quickly stummered ago dismiss that idea.

"N-no, not all!" You answered quickly "I just-this is just unexpecting since you never usually watch my performance.."

"Would it be so bad to watch my lover's performance?" He teased, getting closer to you. You subconsciously stepped back.

"Haha I appreciate what you're doing but you don't have to try so hard to convince the audience we're actual liver, I think we already fooled them.." You responded, he didn't exactly know what he felt just now but he did not like it. It felt like his heart disease had gotten worse when you said those words, but alas he was too prideful to say anything.

"I know, but can't hurt to be more cautious right?" He smiled sweetly but his aura gave off a malicious intention. You just nodded and looked away from him.

"Ah, I have to go. The performance will be in a few minutes." You quickly grabbed your mic and walked to the door "I'll see you after the performance."

He stood there silently, you were acting off than your usual self. Whenever he mentions about you two being lovers you would get flustered, covering your face in hopes it will hide your blush. It did but you didn't know that your ears turn red too, haha how cute. Either way the way you acted just now was weird. You looked awkward and stiff.

He just sighed and walked out of the door to the reserved VIP seats to watch your performance, he'd rather watch it in real life rather than those holograms.

Luka sat on his seat while waiting for the round to start. His owner had bought him a lightstick from your company's merchandise of you, saying he should use it to cheer you on. He didn't need that useless thing, he already knows you'll will this round effortlessly. He snapped out of his thoughts when the lights finally came on, the spotlight shining your opponent.

As always the opponent looks scared and pressured, their voice cracking a bit as they song. It seems like they know their fate in this round, that's good. But when it was your turn, the crowd went wild as the spotlight went to you. Ah..the poor opponent, they must feel so embarassed and inferior now.

But the next thing you did really made him almost break the lightstick in his hand due to how hard he gripped it. You decided to hold their hand and encouraged them to sing. Eventually they did, their voice wasn't cracking anymore,they weren't frowning and they looked like they were enjoying the performance.

You were dancing with them,you were smiling with them,you looked at them with fondness, as if they were your lover. The aliens around him silently moved away because of his malicious aura. They could've sworn they saw a deadly glint in his eyes just now.

The performance came to an end, the collar on the opponent's neck soon blew up, killing them. He felt satisfaction travel through his veins as he watched your opponents blood stain the stage. But he didn't exactly like how you looked sad as they died. Shouldn't you be happy? That you won and survived. Why are you feeling pity for a low life human that was lower than your status.

Soon you were led to the backstage by the robotic guards. He stood up suddenly, making the aliens flinch and back away. He paid no attention to them and focused on going to the backstage. He wanted to know what caused him to feel so angry by what happened.

He was expecting you at the backstage room but he saw you standing in the hallway, looking at something on your hand. He silently walked towards you and got on his tippy toes to whisper in your ear.

"Boo~" he whispered, you gripped the object in your hand and took a step back. You sighed knowing it was just Luka and not some crazy fan that got through security.

"Luka! It's just you, thank goodness.." You sighed in relief, hand still gripping the object. He looked at your fists and questioned you.

"What's in your hand?" He asked, you blinked before opening your hand to reveal a ring. What are you doing holding a ring? Was it for him? "Are you that eager to marry me already?"

Your face turned red at the suggestion "W-wait I didn't mean it like that?!" You rubbed your head by teasing nature "It was my opponent's ring, I accidentally pulled it when I was dancing with them."

His smile turned upside down when you explained, what are you doing with the ring of your opponent? He calmed down before taking the ring off your hands and looked at it. Hm, it looked quite expensive by the looks of it but easily affordable by him.

You looked at him with a confused expression, you never really saw take an interest in things like this. But you were shock when he decided to drop the ring to ground and stomped on it. You quickly yet gently pushed him away to do any more damaged. Unfortunately the ring was broken into pieces.

"Luka why did you do that?!" You looked at him with disbelief, he scoffed.

"Why are you so upset about it? It's just the opponent's ring, you have more things to worry about other than that useless thing." He spat out.

"That's still disrespectful! I can't believe you did that." You looked at him with disappointment. "What got you so worked up?! From the very you could care less about me, my interactions with my fans,and how I perform. You keep reminding me that this relationship, US, is just a contract. Why do you suddenly care about me no-.."

You stopped once you heard him sniff, you looked at him properly now. His face was turned away, his hair hiding his face but you could still see the tears that were about to fall from his eyes. He was trembling like he was out in the cold and his arms were tightened into a fist. You accidentally made him cry.

"Oh..oh I'm so sorry Luke--i didn't mean to yell at you like that." You gently hugged his body, his face burrying into your chest. Muffling the sound of his sniffing by how hard he's trying not to cry. "I'm sorry I'm just..just frustrated by this whole contract. I got attached and eventually fell for you but you kept reminding me that this was all a contract I just..couldn't control my emotions anymore.."

You confessed, he stayed quiet before weakly punching your chest. He pulled his face from your chest, his eyebrows were furrowed and his cheeks were red due to him crying. God you just wanted to scoop him up and kiss his face.

"I'm no better, I never had alot of chances to feel this kind of emotion. It was weird when I felt angry by how you treated your opponent, as if they were your own lover. I decided to take out my anger by making you angry.." He admitted, your eyes went wide by what he just stated.

"You were..jealous?" You muttered, he looked up to you with an embarassed expression.

"I was not!" He spat out.

"Are too, is that why you've been giving my fans glares all the time and pulled me away from them?" You laughed a bit, he pushed you away but your grip on him was tight.

"Okay now you're just teasing me." He scoffed

"But it's okay for you to tease me?..Luka..Luka don't ignore me please, Luke-" You sighed but smiled, alas your feelings are reciprocated. Although his possessive and obsessive issues are a tad bit scary..You already knew he has you wrapped around his finger. You fell for his trap.

#alien stage #alien stage luka #alnst luka #alien stage luka x reader #alien stage x reader #alnst x reader #alnst x male reader #alnst luka x male reader #alnst luka x reader #luka x reader #luka x male reader #x male reader

1K notes · View notes

mellowwillowy · 1 year ago

Text

Streamer Reader: *streams normally*

Yan! Hacker: *moderating chat professionally*

Streamer Reader: great job Seth! You are the best mod I've ever had! Not to mention my revenue is increasing after you fill in for that last mod.

Yan! Hacker: *doxxing and blackmailing all the haters into donating for you* mmh, that's great.

The previous mod: *scared shitless after getting blackmailed by Seth*

-- IMG, NSFW —𝒀𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒐𝒃𝒆𝒓 - 𝑳𝑰𝒇𝑬 𝑷𝒓𝒐𝒋𝒆𝒄𝒕 𝑬𝒗𝒆𝒏𝒕

Yan! Hacker who tapped your phone the first time you and he had an IRL meet-up. He doesn't look like those typical stuck in at all, instead, he is very nice although tends to be silent/listener all the time.

Yan! Hacker who is not only nice, he is actually no different from how he acts in the game you two were once stuck in! Remember how much of an asshat he was? (No, I don't.) Yes, he is still an asshat except that you don't know that he's an asshat that is obsessed over you!

Yan! Hacker who thought the first meeting you two had as a first date deep down inside his heart, remembering every little thing the two of you did and jot it down like a teenager in love.

Yan! Hacker who will somehow find a way to make you invite him to your place, allowing him to tap your PC, laptop, door's password anything that

Yan! Hacker who is surprisingly actually really younger than you by 2 years, you thought he was only bluffing in the game to make himself younger. He would use that fact to tease you for being an oldie, fooling your fans into thinking you are some teenager.

Yan! Hacker who would watch you non-stop after having your whole shits under his control. While he did introduce himself to you as a programmer, he has also learned more than just those silly codings. Oh, he even knows how to deactivate your security alarm so that you would never know how he sneaks into your room, jerking himself off into your face.

Don't worry, he will reactivate it again once he leaves, wouldn't want people to barge into your place like they own it right.

Yan! Hacker who will somehow always give you the things you place in the wishlist cart. While it is indeed touching, how the fuck does he know all the things you want and need???

Yan! Hacker who will do questionable shits to every conversation you hold online. Anyone he deems as an eyesore would somehow be... gone. Don't worry, he's sane enough to not bother anything related to your work. That will be handled by him personally without using your account. (Read blackmail)

—

Yan! Hacker: How about we go to Japan? I heard the Love Hotel here *shows review* is great. Lots of varieties and *explains everything you've done your research on*

Streamer Reader: ...? Yeah this is where I wanna go on my next vacation, how come you got the same idea as I do?

—

Streamer Reader: *loses a debate online*

Yan! Hacker: *coming in like a white knight with another fresh blackmail material*

#yandere male #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere scenarios #yandere x you #yandere imagines #male yandere #yandere insert #yandere oc #yandere headcanons #yandere works #yandere smut #yandere writing #reader insert #x reader #oc #x gn reader #LIfE Project #Seth the Resistance

4K notes · View notes

meazalykov · 1 month ago

Text

yapper

barca femeni x reader

part one - part two here

summary: you always had something to say

warnings: angst, online hate

you've always been the one to fill the quiet.

if the locker room was silent, you’d throw out a joke. sometimes so bad it would have everyone laughing just because of how ridiculous it was. your teammates loved you for it—or at least you thought they did.

you didn’t want anyone to sit in nervous energy before a big game. you wanted everyone to feel at ease, to smile, to believe they could take on anything since this was literally barcelona– of course the best club in the world could handle anything.

“why are you so loud?” mapi teased one day after you cracked a pun about her tattoos during a media day.

you grinned at her.

“because someone has to keep this team awake. what would you do without me? shit, i don’t know how you survived without me for long.”

“probably enjoy the peace and quiet,” she shot back, but the grin on her face told you otherwise.

you knew mapi got all the credit for being the talker of the group, but you easily topped her in that department. kika often joked that you had a built-in microphone, always on and ready to broadcast.

yet, despite all the jokes, you never felt like it was too much. not until recently.

training sessions at barça were something you relished, even on your worst days. being surrounded by alexia, kika, and esmee—your closest friends on the team—always made it feel less like work.

alexia was like a big sister, always ready to listen. kika was your partner-in-crime, teasing you relentlessly, but never crossing the line. esmee? she was your rock, her quiet presence balanced your constant energy, grounding you in ways you didn’t think anyone could.

after a long training session one evening, you found yourself alone on the practice pitch. penalties were your weak spot, and you wanted to fix that. you lined up the ball, took a deep breath, and sent it toward the net. it hit the post.

“what are you doing here so late?” alexia’s voice startled you.

you jumped, clutching your chest dramatically.

“you scared me! i could’ve died.”

she smirked, arms crossed as she walked closer.

“you didn’t answer my question.”

“what are you doing here?” you tried to deflect.

“i asked first.”

rolling your eyes, you motioned to the ball.

“penalties. i suck at them.”

alexia raised a brow.

“you’re not even one of the main takers.”

“exactly! that’s why i suck! i need to be better in case i ever have to take one, you know what if you frido or ewa are not available?” you rambled, launching into an explanation of all the ways penalties terrified you.

alexia didn’t interrupt, just watched you with that calm, almost maternal expression she always had.

“you’re overthinking it,” she finally said, cutting through your spiral.

“just keep practicing. you’ll be fine.”

her reassurance helped more than you wanted to admit. alexia had that effect on people, like she could carry all your worries on her shoulders and not even flinch.

a few days later, you stopped by esmee’s apartment, where she was curled up on the couch with her girlfriend, dani. the sight of them together tugged at something in your chest, a reminder of what you used to have with emily.

“finally over her,” you announced as you plopped down beside them, grabbing a handful of popcorn from the bowl on esmee’s lap.

“who?” danielle asked, clearly out of the loop.

“emily,” esmee filled in. “her ex.”

“oh, good for you,” danielle said with a smile through her dutch accent.

“it’s about time, right?”

you laughed, nodding.

“yeah, it only took me almost a year.”

however, later that week, you saw something that made your chest tighten all over again. scrolling through instagram, you stumbled upon a photo of emily with another girl, their smiles wide and carefree in north london.

it shouldn’t have mattered. you were over the woman three years your senior. however, it stung in a way you didn’t expect.

then came the champions league quarterfinal against bayern munich. the mistake was small—a misplaced pass, a missed mark—but pernille made you pay for it with a screamer that tied the game.

1-1.

after the game, you did your best to shake it off, smiling for the cameras, joking with alexia and frido. you thought you’d done well hiding your disappointment.

the internet didn’t let it slide.

“y/n talks too much. maybe she should focus on her game instead.”

“doesn’t she get tired of hearing her own voice?”

“the team probably wishes she’d shut up for once.”

the comments were harsh, cruel, and loud in your mind. you tried to brush them off, but the words stuck, clinging to you like thorns.

the next day at training, you were different. quieter. focused. when kika asked if you were okay, you only nodded, too afraid that anything you said might annoy someone.

“you sure?” she pressed.

you nodded again, forcing a small smile.

“weird,” she muttered under her breath, walking away.

alexia and aitana exchanged glances, both noticing the shift. esmee tried to pull you into a conversation during a water break, but you only offered short replies, your usual energy gone.

that night in the locker room, after everyone else had left, you stayed behind, the weight of it all finally crashing down on you. in the showers, the tears came hard and fast, your shoulders shaking as you tried to keep quiet.

though the locker room echoed, and when you emerged, changed and ready to leave, alexia, kika, esmee, and ellie were waiting for you.

“we heard you crying,” kika said softly, her eyes full of concern.

“what’s going on?”

you hesitated, swallowing hard.

“nothing.”

“don’t lie,” alexia said, her voice gentle but firm.

“i don’t…” you trailed off, taking a deep breath.

“i don’t want to annoy you guys.”

they all looked at you like you’d grown a second head.

“annoy us?” esmee asked, incredulous.

“i talk too much. i saw what people were saying online, and… maybe they’re right.”

“y/n,” alexia started, stepping closer.

“we love you. all of us. you make this team better, not worse.”

“you think we don’t look forward to hearing your ridiculous jokes every day?” kika added, her tone light but sincere.

“you’re the reason we laugh half the time.”

“is that mistake against bayern bothering you?” ellie chimed in. “it happens to everyone. it doesn’t define you.”

their words broke through the wall you’d built, and before you knew it, they were pulling you into a group hug.

“promise us you won’t let those comments get to you again,” alexia said, her hand on your shoulder.

you nodded, sniffling.

“i promise.”

“good,” kika said, grinning.

“now, what were you going to say about the athletic club match?”

and just like that, you found yourself rambling again. they listened, laughing and teasing you like always, reminding you that this was where you belonged.

part two here

#barca femeni #woso fanfics #barcelona femeni #woso x reader #woso community #fc barcelona #alexia putellas #esmee brugts #kika nazareth #ellie roebuck #mapi leon

567 notes · View notes

no-144444 · 2 months ago

Text

wingman paul- c.leclerc

summary: charles leclerc takes a liking to you at your brothers movie premiere... paul makes it happen!

pairing: charles leclerc x fem! mescal! reader

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ

Did you want to go to the Gladiator 2 premiere? No, not really. Was Paul forcing you to anyways? Yes, very much so.

Being his sister (and emotional support person), he always brought you on set, to premieres, and anywhere else. That was usually fine. The rest of his projects' premieres had either been in the Lighthouse (your favourite cinema in Dublin), or small enough that you wouldn’t get too overwhelmed. You were famous in your own right, following after your sister and writing music. You didn’t go on stage, but you’d garnered over 10 million listeners, and your album had just been nominated for a grammy, though you had no intention of going. It’s not that you were scared or shy, you were just entirely uninterested in going out in public as a ‘public figure’. It stressed you out, having people know who you are in such detail, so you just kept to yourself. You had no public social media accounts, you didn’t allow your label to post about you unless it was about the music, and you only let Paul or Nell drag you out in public for one of their events. You liked it that way, it was comfortable.

“I’m going to go say hi to some people, you just wait here, yeah?” Paul explained as you two entered the theatre. It was huge, and every celebrity or influencer in the world must’ve been there. You nodded as he walked off and allowed yourself to fade into the background, people-watching as time passed. You noticed the beautiful architecture of the building, the way the celebrities around you mingled, the way-

“Hello.”

You whipped your head around, startled, only to be met with a face you knew quite well. “Jesus, Charles, you scared me,” you chuckled. He blushed slightly as you turned around properly to greet him. “Hi.”

“How are you?” he asked, joining you in your secluded corner.

“I’m fine, thank you. How are you?”

“I am very good,” he smiled, showing off his dimples. “I thought you didn’t like events.”

“I don’t, Paul just asked me to come,” you explained. “My mam would’ve killed me if I didn’t go, so here I am.”

He nodded, understanding. “I tried to find you online, but… you are not a fan of that either?”

You chuckled. “No, not really. Sorry.”

He shook his head. “No, it is ok. I just… wanted to talk more. You are very interesting to me,” he smiled.

“Well, thank you for the glowing review,” you chuckled. “Are you enjoying the evening so far?”

“I am enjoying it a lot more with you here,” he smiled. “But yes, I only watched the first one a few days ago and I thought it was very good, so I am excited to see how this one compares.”

“You’re sure a charmer,” you chuckled. “I hope you enjoy the film. Where are you sitting?”

“Beside Carlos?” he shrugged, an awkward smile on his face. “Carlos knows, but I don’t know where Carlos is.”

You laughed. “Are you always this disorganised?”

“Only when I’m nervous,” he winked at you and the lights started going down, you just offered him to sit next to you, hoping that Nell wouldn’t mind.

You two sat together, enjoying the movie as the night went on, and after you found yourselves at the bar, still chatting. He walked off to find Carlos at one point, looking back with a smile as he waved, promising to come back soon.

“When are you going to realise he’s trying to flirt with you?” Paul laughed. Your face was bright red and your jaw dropped.

You gently (roughly) hit his chest and scoffed. “Shut the fuck up. He is not.”

Paul laughed. “He’s totally into you! Come on, go out with him, please! I want free tickets to Grand Prixs!”

You rolled your eyes as he giggled, and then startled when you bumped straight back into Charles. “Fuck, sorry-” you started apologising but he just shook his head.

“All good,” he smiled.

Paul silently slipped away with a wink, and you were faced with Charles, once again.

“Hi,” you breathed out.

“Hi,” he chuckled, his dimples on full show. “He was right, you know.”

“About what?” you questioned.

“I am flirting with you-or, at least trying to,” he blushed slightly.

“Oh,” you nodded, unsure what to do in a situation where someone was as brazen and blunt. “Right.”

He laughed. “Can I take you out sometime?”

You stared at him, total deer in headlights, then nodded. “Yeah, yeah, sounds grand. Thank you.”

You internally smacked yourself in the face for that. But he just laughed, unfazed by your awkward demeanour.

“Great!” he smiled bashfully. “When are you free?”

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ

navigation for my blog :) (masterlist)

961 notes · View notes

cptnhngjng · 3 months ago

Text

Ruin You

Seonghwa breathed against your soft skin. “Makes me want to ruin you.”

Seonghwa got a little nosy

-seonghwa x f!reader -3.5k words -smut, mdni, 18+ only c/w: mommy kink, spitting, pet names (baby, good girl, pretty girl, sweet girl), corruption kink, fingering, kinda mean!seonghwa, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, overstimulation

full version of the wildcard in seonghwa’s a-z

(not proofread, but please enjoy)

There were two things you kept secret from Park Seonghwa. One, the things you wanted to try in the bedroom. And two, the fact that you ran a fan account for him. Honestly you weren’t even sure which one you found more embarrassing. How many people would say they run an account on twitter dedicated to their boyfriend? Albeit, your relationship with Seonghwa is a secret that is kept from everyone except for a handful of people. And the things you were interested in trying in the bedroom weren’t too out there, you thought. Fairly simple, to be quite honest. And you knew Seonghwa wouldn’t judge you—for either thing. In fact, he’d be excited about both. But still…you were scared to have him find out.

There was this specific video of Seonghwa performing MATZ going around from the most recent tour, and it made you think about things. Things you wouldn’t necessarily tell your boyfriend. You looked over at Seonghwa, who was laying in bed next to you, scrolling through his phone. Then you looked back to your phone screen at the video of Seonghwa. At the end of the clip it looked like he was spitting. Which made you think about how you always wanted Seonghwa to spit in your mouth while the two of you were fucking. But you would never tell him that.

Seonghwa was a simple guy and usually kept it fairly vanilla in the bedroom. Sure, the two of you experimented a little bit, but it was things like him restraining your hands or using blindfolds. Nothing dirty. You thought he would think that was gross. So you never brought it up.

You watched the video a couple more times before you decided to quote it.

ngl, kinda need seonghwa to spit in my mouth

You hit post and then locked your phone. If Seonghwa ever found out about this account you would simply die. It’s embarrassing. You felt your cheeks heat up, and you were sure your face was turning red. Closing your eyes, you hope Seonghwa doesn’t notice. You let out a breath before opening your eyes again. Taking a glance over at your boyfriend, he was still preoccupied with his phone, not paying any mind to you.

The screen on your phone lit up as it vibrated, notifying you of a reply to your post. You quickly unlocked your phone and checked your notifications. It was from someone you occasionally talked to online. They liked your posted and had replied:

girl, me too. i would then say “thank you mommy” after he did it.

Well, thank god you weren’t alone with wanting Seonghwa to spit in your mouth. But now you were thinking about something else. You knew Seonghwa had a motherly type of personality and a lot of people called him “mother” and “mommy”, but you never thought too much about it. But seeing your friend bring it up in a situation like this had your mind spiraling. Why did that turn you on?

You bit your lip as you hit reply.

oh! yes! “thank you mommy” for sure. now you got me thinking!!

By now your whole body was heating up. And you felt a little dizzy. You needed to get some water and calm yourself down. So you put your phone down and climbed out of bed.

“Where are you going, love?” Seonghwa asked, feeling you move from you spot. He didn’t look up from his phone.

“J...just a little thirsty. I need some water,” you quickly replied as you scurried out of the room.

Seonghwa made a soft noise in response to you, letting you know that he heard you. He continued to scroll through his phone. You took your time in the kitchen, drinking a glass of water and trying to clear your mind of any dirty thoughts you had. But while you were gone, your phone had started going off nonstop. The notifications were blowing it up. Which caught Seonghwa’s attention.

He thought that something must be wrong and that one of your friends or family members was trying to get a hold of you. He grabbed your phone and unlocked it. (You both knew each other’s passcodes just in case there was ever an emergency). Notifications kept rolling in. Seonghwa then realized that it wasn’t any messages from a friend or family member, nor was it an emergency. They were notifications from twitter.

He didn’t even know you had a twitter account. Now he was curious. What was it that was making your notifications go crazy? Now, Seonghwa definitely respects your privacy and would never snoop around. But something was making him want to check to see what the commotion was. He looked up from your phone to look at the doorway to the bedroom, making sure you weren’t coming back in yet. He then tapped on the app and pulled it up, checking the notifications. Most of them were likes or others sharing what you had posted. Some were replies that were agreeing with you.

He finally clicked on what it was you posted, checking to see what everyone was going on about. Looking back at him was a fancam of him and the words that you wrote. He raised an eyebrow and chuckled. He then read the reply from your friend and your response to them. He couldn’t help but smile. Spitting? Mommy? Oh, he knew what he had to do now.

Seonghwa clicked on your profile and scrolled through, surprised to see that you had a fan account for him. To be quite honest, he found it cute. Endearing, even. Before closing out of the app, he went back to that post again. It was something he never expected from you. He always thought you were on the more innocent side, not really having any interests that weren’t completely vanilla.

Footsteps coming down the hall indicated that you were on your way back. Seonghwa quickly locked your phone and tossed it back to your side of the bed. He grabbed his own phone and pretended to be looking at it. When you walked back into the room, he looked up at you and smiled. He was going to have fun.

Seonghwa rolled onto his side and propped himself up on his elbow. He smiled as you climbed back into bed. “Feeling better, my love?”

You nodded and went to grab your phone. But then Seonghwa took it from your hand and leaned over you, placing it on the nightstand. You raised an eyebrow in confusion at him, but all he did was smile at you. He brushed his fingers through your hair, sweeping the strands behind you ear. He leaned down and placed a soft kiss on your lips.

“Hwa?” you questioned, but he responded with a shush. He started placing quick kisses all over your face, before finally making his way back to your lips, where he deepened the kiss, his tongue pushing its way into your mouth, exploring it. He pressed his body against yours. Feeling the weight of him against you, you wrapped your arms around his neck. He groaned into the kiss, causing you to smile slightly against his lips.

Seonghwa broke the kiss and pulled away from you. A small whine left you and he smirked as his eyes scanned down your body. His hands found their way under the shirt you were wearing, his fingers cold against your warm skin. Goosebumps covered your skin as you shuddered from the cool sensation. He leaned down and nipped at your neck, before placing kisses across your soft skin.

His hands slid up your torso, bringing your shirt along with them, exposing your body to him. You sat up slightly, allowing Seonghwa to fully remove the piece of clothing from you, him haphazardly tossing it somewhere in the room. Your breasts were pressed together by the dark bra that you were wearing. Seonghwa grabbed them with his hands, squeezing them slightly. He placed a kiss on your collar bone before trailing down to your chest, where he pulled down the material holding your tits together. He licked at one as he palmed the other, causing your nipples to perk up from the stimulation and the cold air.

“Ah, Hwa!” You moaned out as he started to suck on your nipple. You arched you back and you grabbed onto his long hair. You felt him smirk against your skin before he let go of your nipple with a wet pop and moved to your other one. His tongue swirled around the sensitive bud before he nipped at it, causing you to let out a high pitched whimper.

“You are so beautiful, y/n,” Seonghwa breathed against your soft skin. “Makes me want to ruin you.”

You felt heat rush between your legs. Your fingers gripped his hair tightly, causing him to hum satisfyingly against your chest. “Seonghwa, please,” you begged. “Need you so bad!”

Seonghwa’s hands made their way behind you, fiddling with the clasps of your bra, finally undoing it and tossing it aside. He sat up on his knees and watched you with dark eyes. You were leaning back on your elbows, chest rising and falling as you breathed heavily. The way he was looking at you was full of hunger and desire. Whatever he had planned for you, it was going to definitely ruin you.

His smirk only grew bigger, making you gulp in anticipation. He brought a hand to your cheek as he cupped it softly, his eyes falling to your lips. He bit his lip for a moment as if he were thinking.

“Be a good girl,” he said, his thumb brushing against your bottom lip. You looked up at him with wide eyes. “Be a good girl for Mommy, yeah?”

Your mouth fell open in surprise. Did he just say “mommy”? The heat between your legs was growing, and you squeezed your thighs together. It turned you on way more than you ever expected. Seonghwa let out a low chuckle at your reaction, pleased with the blush forming across your cheeks. His eyes fluttered down to your bottom half, seeing how you have your legs tightly pressed together.

“Did my baby like that?” he teased, grabbing on to your thighs and prying them apart. He pulled at the waistband of the shorts you were wearing and started to pull them down, leaving you in just your light pink panties. They were just simple cotton panties, but Seonghwa loved them nonetheless. He thought they were cute. It was pure and innocent—unlike the thoughts you were having of him.

“Need you to answer me,” Seonghwa commanded, gripping your face with his hand. You nodded and whimpered out a quiet “yes”. But that didn’t satisfy him. He gripped your face tighter, making you look directly into his eyes. “What was that? I don’t think I heard you, baby girl.”

“Y-yes, mommy!” You exclaimed.

Seonghwa let go of your face and softly tapped your cheek with his palm. “That’s my good girl,” he purred.

At this point you had closed your legs again, trying to get some relief. You felt yourself getting incredibly wet—more wet than you have ever been before. Seonghwa took notice of your legs pressed tightly together and shook his head disapprovingly. “Open up.”

You moved your legs apart, revealing the wet patch that formed on your panties. Seonghwa pressed his fingers against it, with a smile playing on his full lips. He pulled your panties to the side, exposing your drenched cunt to him. His fingers brushed against your folds, collecting your slick. You bucked your hips, wanting to feel more from him.

“Look at you baby girl, so wet for Mommy and I haven’t even done anything yet.” He pushed your hips back down against the mattress with his free hand as he slowly pushed two fingers into your aching core.

“Seonghwa, please!” you called out as he started to pump his fingers in and out. But then he stopped and removed his fingers from you. You whined at the emptiness.

“Hm? Who?” Seonghwa muttered before sucking your juices off his fingers and smirking at you. He loomed over you, before grabbing onto your face again. You felt a shiver go through your body. You’ve never seen Seonghwa act like this before, but you were liking it.

“Mommy, please!” You corrected yourself.

He held your chin between his thumb and finger, You could tell he was thinking, thinking about his next move. You let out the breath you unknowingly were holding. His thumb brushed against your lip again before he pushed it into your mouth, forcing it open. “Open wide, my love,” he said.

You opened your mouth, tongue sticking out some. Before you knew it, Seonghwa had gotten close to your face and suddenly you felt his saliva fall into your open mouth. His spit mixed with your juices that he had just sucked off his fingers.

“Swallow it, pretty girl. Mommy’s special gift just for you,” he chuckled darkly.

You closed your mouth quickly and swallowed, tasting his saliva on your tongue. You closed your eyes, savoring it. A quiet moan erupted from you, surprising both you and him.

“So dirty,” Seonghwa chortled. “Who knew my baby was secretly such a dirty girl.” He kissed you hard, taking your bottom lip between his teeth.

He rested his knee between your legs, putting the ever slightest bit of pressure against your core; it was making your head spin. You grinded against him, wanting to feel some kind of relief. He pressed himself more into you, enjoying having you rut against his thigh like some dog in heat. “Look at you, you dirty little slut. Trying to get yourself off by humping my leg,” he teased; his voice was raspy, making you feel dizzy.

“M-mommy, please,” you whined, continuing to rub yourself against Seonghwa. “I need you in me, please.”

Seonghwa pulled away from you; your slick was covering the grey material of his sweatpants. He clicked his tongue at you. “You are so needy, look at you. You ruined your panties and my sweats.”

He reached towards the waistband of your panties and slid them down. You lifted yourself some to help him rid you of the garment. You were finally fully exposed, and Seonghwa smiled, taking in the sight of your leaking pussy in front of him. He licked his lips before he placed a few quick kisses to your thigh, trailing upwards. When he finally made it to your pussy, you could feel his hot breath against you. His long fingers spread you apart, watching as you clenched around nothing, desperate to feel something.

You rolled your hips, trying to get Seonghwa to do more. To do anything. You were going insane from the teasing. You looked down at Seonghwa as he rested between your legs; he was concentrating, his lips pursed. You watched as he opened his lips and saliva spilled from them, landing right on your spread folds. The warm liquid seeped down over your pussy, mixing with your slick. Then he leaned in closer to your core, licking a strip up through the wetness, before stopping at your clit and giving it a harsh suck.

The noise that you made was loud and was a mix between a moan and a whimper. Your back arched as your fingers found their way to Seonghwa’s hair. The strands twisted around your fingers as you pushed his face further into your cunt. He hummed against you, the vibrations making your toes curl. The knot in your stomach tightened as you felt your first orgasm approaching. Seonghwa continued to attack your clit with his mouth as his fingers prodded at your entrance. He started to pump his fingers, curling them just slightly making sure he hit exactly where he needed to bring you to you climax. Your vision went white as you reached your high. Your pussy clenched around Seonghwa’s fingers as he slowed his pace, letting you ride out your orgasm.

When Seonghwa pulled away from you, his face and hand were covered in your juices. He licked his hand clean before wiping his face. “You taste so good, baby. I should let you taste, too,” he said as he hovered over you. He gripped your face, forcing your mouth open again. You watched as he gathered the saliva in his mouth. The wad of spit fell from his lips as it landed into your open mouth. You rolled the saliva around your mouth, tasting both you and him on your tongue, before finally swallowing.

“You are being such a good girl for Mommy,” Seonghwa cooed as he caressed your cheek. “I think it’s time I finally give you what you need.”

You felt tears welling up in your eyes. You were so desperate to feel his cock fill you up. “Please, I’ve been such a good girl. I need you in me,” you whispered, feeling a tear escape and roll down your cheek.

Seonghwa wiped the tear away with his thumb before finally pulling his pants and boxers down, freeing his achingly hard cock. With an angry tip and precum leaking, he lined himself up with your entrance. Wanting to tease you one more time, he rubbed his tip against your slick folds, causing you to whine slightly.

“Let me hear you say it one more time, my sweet girl,” Seonghwa edged you on, resting his tip right at your entrance.

“Mommy, please. Need your cock in me, fill me up, please!” You begged.

“Good girl,” he uttered before finally pushing his cock fully into you, filling you to the brim. You screamed his name as you felt him stretch you out. Seonghwa pulled back out before slamming into you again. Your eyes rolled back as you felt him brush against your warm walls. He continued to thrust into you, letting out low grunts each time his cock pushed into you.

You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him closer to you. Seonghwa’s hand slipped between your bodies as he found way to your clit. His fingertips circled the sensitive nub, bringing you closer to the edge. He was getting close too, with the way your pussy was squeezing his cock. His thrusts were starting to get sloppy.

Seonghwa leaned down and gave you a quick kiss. “Cum for me baby. Cum for mommy,” he urged you on. With one last thrust, you hit your climax. Your eyes rolled back as your body trembled from the orgasm. Seonghwa came right afterwards, filling you up with his hot, white seed. Your cunt clenched around him, milking him of every last drop, filling you to the brim.

He pulled out and watched as his cum started to leak out of your abused hole. He took two fingers and pushed his cum back into your pussy, making you whine out from the overstimulation of his fingers fucking into your sensitive core. Your legs quivered as he continued to thrust his fingers into you. You weren’t sure if you could handle any more. A cry escaped your throat as you grabbed Seonghwa’s hand, trying to stop him. “T-too much, Hwa,” you sobbed.

Seonghwa immediately stopped and pulled your body close. He brushed his fingers through your hair as you clung to him. Soft whispers of praise filled the room as he tried to calm you down. “I’m so sorry, baby,” Seonghwa whispered, worried that he went too far.

“It’s okay, Hwa,” you reassured him, placing a kiss to his jawline. “Just too sensitive.”

He softly laid your body down on the bed, treating you as if you were made of glass and would break. A few soft kisses were shared before he got out of bed. Seonghwa walked into the bathroom and started to run a bath, wanting to make sure you got the best aftercare he could give you. As the bath continued to fill, he came back into the bedroom to get you. He carried you into the bathroom and sat you gently into the tub. He stepped into the tub along with you and sat behind you, placing you between his legs.

With your back pressed against his chest, he placed a kiss to your shoulder. “Did you like that?” He asked, breaking the silence.

“Yeah,” you whispered, suddenly feeling embarrassed. It was like Seonghwa had somehow read your mind and found out what you were in to.

“I think you should say ‘Thank you, Mommy’,” he teased, his fingers trailing down your arm before interlacing them with yours.

You gasped and turned around to look at Seonghwa. You softly smacked his chest. “Park Seonghwa, you snooped didn’t you?”

“It’s so cute that you have a fan account for me, baby,” he chuckled. “Maybe next time, tell me what you want to try instead of tweeting it out for a bunch of strangers to see.” He kissed your temple and you sighed contently as you leaned into him.

————

taglist: @bratty-tingz, @yuyuzlilbunny , @xdinarymango, @seonghwasbaby, @i-love-ateez

dm or comment if you want to be added to the taglist :)

#ateez #ateez imagines #ateez smut #ateez x reader #seonghwa #seonghwa smut #seonghwa x reader

597 notes · View notes

pha55ed · 5 months ago

Text

You and I | F2 (kimi bday celly!)

type ::fluff tw/cw :: fem!reader for all :( contains :: kimi!, ollie, paul, pepe request :: you and i w kimi ollie paul & pepe plsss (literally my top 4 drivers LOLL im surprised by how many f2 requests there are) link to kimi bday celly!

Kimi Antonelli | 04

Being one of the only girls in F2 meant that you were basically shipped with everyone on the grid, no matter if you ever talked to them. It was odd, but you expected all the ships to die down eventually, which most did. Except one ship: you and Kimi. It made sense, since you both are teammates after all.

Kimi doesn't know how to react to the shipping. Because on one hand, he knows it's inappropriate since you're teammates but on the other hand, he has a huge crush on you so he doesn't really mind it. So he's stuck in the middle, not sure what to do when asked anything about you.

When people ask him things like, "Have you seen the (Y/N) x Kimi fans?" or "Have you considered dating (Y/N)?" he just awkwardly laughs. Which is the worse option he could have done, since it just fueled the fanbase even more because he wasn't outright denying it.

But, he might have planned that: since he does love seeing all the edits of you two together :)

Ollie Bearman | 87

Since he's one of the most popular F2 drivers, he's already experienced being shipped with other people often. But usually he's shipped with boys, and he's comfortable with his sexuality to not get offended by the shipping since he knows he's not gay. The only issue now with being shipped with you is 1. you're a girl, 2. he does like you.

Whenever he's asked about you, he gets slightly flustered. It's clear to many that he might have a crush on you, but thanks to his delusional fan girls (I'm one of them) they spam Twitter and Instagram stating that you're just platonic soulmates with Ollie.

But Ollie is secretly basking in the ship edits of you and him. He doesn't want to be your platonic soulmate, he just wants to be your soulmate, period. Since he scrolls online so often to keep feeding his crush on you, he accidentally likes one of the ship edits.

This sends twitter into a meltdown, tons of moms and teen girls sobbing over Ollie basically confirming that he likes you. But thankfully, they gaslight themselves into thinking he thought it was a platonic edit. He knew damn well what he liked, but he's not allowed to say anything since it's a risk for PR and contracts - having two drivers date each other can get messy so fast. But he'd be ready to risk it all for you.

Paul Aron | 17

He's surprisingly bashful about the ships of you two, it's cute to watch him turn slightly pink in the ears and cheek at the mention of your ship name. Whenever he's asked about you, he can't help but try and lead the interviewer on - yet never give them a full answer of your relationship.

Your team won't allow you two to date, due to the high stakes and PR damage it would do. Especially since you're both so sought after - Paul being wanted by every girl, and you being wanted by every boy. But Paul didn't care for any girl besides you, you're all he wants and he's determined to get you. Most likely by dating under the table, hiding it from the world.

Whenever interviewers ask him things about his love life, he always hints that he has his eye on someone. Or whenever he's blantanlty asked about you, he can't help but smile a little and give a cheeky shrug, since he can't speak much on the matter.

As your teammate, he does try to flirt with you - but not in a douchebag way. Which is surprisingly, since his Instagram posts and friends scream frat-boy, he's different from them. He tries to take it slow with you, not wanting to scare you away by being seeming like a weirdo or asshole in any way.

Pepe Marti | 21

Being shipped with you made him happy and he's unable to hide that. He's naturally super smiley, so when he hears your name - it's almost as if you can see his tail wag at the mention of you. Just like a puppy, he has major puppy-love for you.

But he tries his best to not feed into the ships due to it going against the contracts and policies in place. His face just can't hide it though, he's grinning ear to ear when asked if he would ever date you. Only for him to reply, "Only if I got the chance to :)"

Basically: he makes your PR team work overtime to ensure the audience that you two are JUST friends. But it's hard to do when Pepe straight up tries to hold your hand in the paddock. Or when he posts on Instagram that you're visiting his family for dinner.

Thankfully, the PR are great at manipulating the public to believe you two are just friends - which you are technically,,, but you both know you're so much more than that.

#f1 #f2 #andrea kimi antonelli #kimi antonelli #kimi antonelli x reader #ollie bearman #ollie bearman x reader #paul aron #paul aron x reader #pepe marti #pepe martí #pepe marti x reader #f1 x reader #f2 x reader #formula 1 #formula 2 #formula 1 x reader #formula 2 x reader

429 notes · View notes

eyra · 23 days ago

Text

stuff what I have learnt about writing good

If you've followed me for longer than two minutes then you'll likely know (because I keep going on about it) that I've been working on a novel for the past year. It's always been a dream of mine to write and publish a book and whilst I still have a long way to go before I can even start thinking about querying (whether on this book, or the next, or the next, etc.) I suppose I can now say that a book Exists. I have written A Book.

Now whether or not that book ever sees the light of day, the process of writing it has been truly eye-opening. I went in knowing virtually nothing and came out, still with a huge amount to learn, but with a whole library of tools that I didn't have before. I'm now putting these to use with the first draft of my second book and already the process feels so much more enjoyable, because I've started to figure out how to make it work for me.

I wanted to jot down what I've learnt purely for my own reference so I can keep looking back and reminding myself what worked for me first time around, but given that I get a nice number of asks picking my brain about my own writing process, I thought I might as well share all this with you lot in case there's anyone out there who finds it useful!

So here are the big things that I've learnt so far...

1. Not every trick works for every writer

This has been, by far, my biggest learning. Starting to plan a novel for me felt SO overwhelming - I felt like I was bombarded on all sides with "this is how to write a novel" content, and it felt like there was just too much to learn and like I would never find my way through it. I spent weeks (months...) doing every worksheet, every outlining method, every chart, anything I could get my hands on. Some of them, by the end, proved themselves very useful. A lot of them didn't. There are thousands of voices online that are telling you "this is the right way to write a book" or even "this is the ONLY way to write a book" - don't listen to them. Try things, but don't feel like you have to fit yourself into every single box. Just find the things that work for you.

2. It's possible to overplan

On a related note - sometimes you just need to start writing. I spent WAY TOO LONG faffing about before I put pen to paper with my first book. So, so long planning out characters and plot points, a lot of which I then had to completely reimagine mid-draft because I realised they just didn't work anymore. In hindsight, some of this was down to me being scared to actually start writing - the planning stage was a bit of a comfort zone for me, despite not naturally being a plotter/architect - I have always always always been a pantser/gardener, but I got sucked into the whole "proper authors do it THIS way" narrative.

With my second novel, I did a nice amount of planning but then just bit the bullet and started drafting. I know where my story begins, ends, what my major themes are, I know all my main characters and I know my key plot points. The rest, I'm figuring out as I draft. If nothing else - I'm having a lot more fun this time around.

3. Think about voice and tense before drafting

Yeah duh obvious right? NOT TO ME. If you were following me around April time, you may have witnessed a series of minor breakdowns when I realised that, having written a whole first draft in third person present tense, the entire book should actually have been written in first person past tense. So that meant, basically, starting over from scratch. This was a big learning for me, and not a mistake I'm likely to make again.

4. Stop looking at your word count

For someone who's never really put much thought into word count before - my approach with fanfiction has already been "it'll be as long as it'll be" - I got OBSESSED with the word count of my first couple of drafts. A lot of people will tell you that any good novel "has to be" under 100k words. I constantly see this one post on Pinterest that says "I promise you that you can tell the story you want to tell in 100k words or under." I'm definitely no expert on this (and I'll eat my words when an agent tells me my manuscript needs cutting down), but I'm sceptical - a lot of stories can and should be under 100k words, sure, but most of my favourite books are much longer than this. However, I did get stuck in a "this manuscript has to be between 70k and 100k words" mindset and felt like a failure whenever it was sitting outside of that bracket. Also - keep your genre in mind. If you're writing a rom-com, 70k could work perfectly. If you're writing fantasy, you're probably going to go over that.

5. Know whether you're an overwriter or an underwriter

And related to the above - know whether you tend to write bare bones-style then add to it, or whether you tend to dump it all on the page then cut back later. I'm the first, and I knew this, but I still panicked when my first draft was only around 70k. I felt like it was rushing through the plot at an unreasonable pace and it didn't feel "finished". This was because it was a first draft. By the time I sent my manuscript to my beta reader, it was around 126k.

6. The dumb stuff works

The title of the document for my first draft was "XXX - worst possible version" and at multiple points during the drafting process I changed the font to Comic Sans size 48. It works. Completely takes the pressure off and gives you full permission to write big, write silly, write unhinged, write mad things that you'll cut back by 90% later. But it gets it all on the page. If you're stuck or cringing at yourself in Times New Roman size 12, try Comic Sans size 48.

7. Don't compare your first draft to your favourite book

Like an idiot, I did this. I still find myself doing it. It's possibly my worst writing habit. I'll type out a page at 11pm after a full day at work and no dinner and then I'll pick up a published book and think "ah man, the page I've just written is nowhere NEAR as good as this." Published books are fourth, fifth, sixth, seventh drafts that then go through months and months of editing. Do not compare your manuscript to a published book. Just don't do it.

8. Don't try to be That Author

Good writers are good readers. Absolutely read broadly, read deeply, just read. Fiction, non-fiction, poetry, everything. And it's fine to find yourself influenced by other writers - that's how writing works. But don't try to BE other writers. One of the issues I had to unpick last year was that I was reading a lot of authors whose writing styles are very different to my own. I know my own style fairly well by this point - fanfiction's a great sandbox for figuring that out - but at certain moments during my editing phases I found myself cutting away at my prose because it felt "too different" to the books I was reading at the time. This was a weird thing for me to have done, and I went back and fixed it later.

I think what I'm trying to say with this one is: take inspiration from everywhere, let yourself be influenced by different writing styles, but find your own voice and trust it. Literature already has a Sally Rooney and a Donna Tartt and a Leigh Bardugo. It doesn't need a clone - it needs you!

I'll finish by sharing what I've found to be the most useful plotting template. This obviously isn't the total extent of my planning process by any means, but after trying about a million different plotting techniques for my first manuscript, this is the one:

The 27 chapter method (more examples here)

And finally, two little character tricks that I find invaluable:

AITAH?

Character philosophy

I hope someone out there finds something useful in this post! Although I've been writing in some capacity since I was a teenager, 2024 was definitely the year I realised that I am a writer at my core. I want to be a published author, but I'm already a writer. It brings me happiness like nothing else in the world! And I love to talk about all aspects of writing, so my ask box is always very much open.

Happy scribbling! x

#writing stuff #my writing #book stuff #book 2 stuff

242 notes · View notes

wwilsonbarness · 1 year ago

Text

i messed up...

pairings: bucky barnes x pregnant!reader

summary: you go against what you and bucky agreed, how will he react?

warnings: angst, pregnant reader, asshole bucky, none more i think?

word count: 1219

a/n: Bucky's a major ass in this but i have part two started if anyone is interested :)

Feedback, likes and reblogs are much appreciated :)

I do not give permission for my work to be copied, reposted or translated on any other platform.

part 2

masterlist

You didn’t mean to mess up this bad, you just wanted a normal day, a day where you could leave the tower alone without an Avenger there to protect you.

You knew what you signed up for when you and Bucky became official. He had told you so many times that being with him put you at risk but you didn’t care, you loved him too much to be without him. He had insisted that since that day you would have someone there to protect you at all times, you knew it was in a loving way it was a lot to handle, and ever since you and Bucky discovered you were pregnant it had only gotten more intense. You knew it was for the better but it was suffocating you, which is why you went to the store alone this morning. It wasn’t far from the tower and you would be back within the hour, surely nothing could happen in that time?

On your walk home your phone started to buzz, and not just once but it kept buzzing until you opened the chat and the messages started loading in. They were from Sam, the first was a picture of you, from just 15 minutes earlier, you were reaching up to the top shelf in the store and your shirt had risen up, making your bump slightly more visible. How someone noticed that you have no idea. The rest of the text messages were fairly calm but the last one made you panic.

Sam

where are you? let me know you’re okay please Y/n are you safe? He doesn’t know yet.

Shit. Bucky was going to be furious at you, he had told you so many times not to go out alone because of this very reason. Now everyone was going to know that you and Bucky had a baby coming. You and Bucky had both agreed that you would keep your pregnancy between as few people as possible, for the baby’s safety and now you’ve compromised that. Only the other Avengers, your family and a couple of friends knew about it.

Unintentionally you slowed your pace for the rest of your walk, sending Sam a quick text to let him know you were safe and on your way back. You were scared to face Bucky but at least you could tell him yourself before he found out online or by Sam.

It doesn’t take long even with your slow pace to get back, you hesitantly push the button for your floor, mentally preparing yourself for facing Bucky. He had been especially insistent on keeping your baby away from the public because of his long list of enemies and being a part of the Avengers meant that list was forever growing.

When the lift dings and the doors open you pause for a second before stepping out, first you check yours and Bucky’s bedroom but it’s empty so you head for the common room. When you walk in Bucky’s there, as well as Sam, Tony, Natasha and Steve. At first glance things look normal, and no one notices you walking in until you speak. “Hi..”

That’s when Bucky turns around, his jaw was clenched together, brows furrowed, anger practically seeping out of him. He knew. You want to apologise but you can’t manage to get any words out. A few seconds pass before Nat’s voice breaks the silence. “Are you okay Y/n?” You nod towards her, fidgeting with your fingers trying to distract yourself from the shouting match you knew was about to begin. You’d seen Bucky angry before but never this much and never because of you.

“Bucky, I’m so-“ You couldn’t finish your sentence before he interrupted you

“Did you not listen to anything I said to you? Did you really just ignore everything? I told you this would happen but what? You just did it anyway?“

“Buc-“ He wouldn’t listen, his words were spilling out of him. He didn’t even know what he was really saying. He was just so scared and angry at himself for not protecting you and your baby.

“You’ve seen what the people we deal with can do and you still acted like a complete idiot.” You could hear muffled sounds of Sam and Nat trying to stop him from going any further but all you could focus on was Bucky’s words.

“No. How could you make such a careless mistake?”

Your eyes were growing wetter with each word he said but you tried to keep yourself composed. You didn’t feel as if you had any right to be upset, you were the one who messed up.

“I wasn’t trying to..” You attempt to interrupt him and defend yourself but at this point you knew that was pointless.

“I mean seriously,” He pauses for a moment, contemplating his next words, “it’s like you don’t care about our baby at all.”

Oh. That one hurt. He had to know you cared right? Your baby was everything to you. Could he really think you didn’t care?

Tony had stayed quiet up until now. “Enough James!” He screeched from behind Bucky, “I won’t let you talk to Y/n like that, either calm down or leave my tower.”

You knew he was going to be angry at you but you were not prepared for this much of it. Bucky stares at you for a few seconds before he walks out, dropping his head down to your stomach and scoffing as he does so. Now it wasn’t just anger you felt from him, it was disappointment too.

You can’t bring yourself to move from the spot you’ve been standing in since you arrived, the only thing breaking you out of your trance was someone’s hand on your shoulder. You weren’t sure who until they spoke. “Y/n? Are you alright?”

It was Sam, you manage to turn to him and stutter out, “I‘m sorry.”

“It’s okay.” He brings his hand up to your head and pulls you gently towards him for a much needed hug. “He’s not angry with you, he’s just scared. It’s gonna be okay.”

“I just wanted to do something for myself, I don’t want to have to rely on an Avenger everytime I want to go to the store.”

“I know, he shouldn’t have gotten angry like that. I’m not making any excuses for him but he’s never felt love like he does for you. You and this baby are everything to him, he’s scared to lose you.”

“Do you think he’ll forgive me?” Your voice is quiet, almost too quiet but Sam can just hear you.

“I know he will, he just needs some time to cool down.” You nod your head against Sam’s chest, part of you knew Bucky would forgive you but an even bigger part of you believed you had messed up too bad.

You reach into your bag and take out the small white teddy you bought, when you read the words printed on its tiny outfit you start to cry harder. It read, “Best Dad Ever”, you just hoped Bucky would forgive you so you could give it to him.

If you could go back to this morning and change your decision you would. You just want things back the way they were.

2K notes · View notes