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celestie0 · 3 months

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gojo satoru x reader | college au [18+]

kickoff ch.8 a little cottage on the countryside

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

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

ᰔ warnings/tags. 18+, fluff, angst, smut, college au, fraternities, sororities, partying, drinking/alcohol, mentions of weed, romance, jealousy, pining, slow burn, opposites to lovers, friends to lovers, she falls first he falls harder, gojo being an idiot

ᰔ chapter. 8/x (probably 12)

ᰔ words. 13.5k (...i'm gonna go take a nap lol)

a/n. hello hellooo my dear kickoff readers, hope you're having a nice day so far! this is the longest chapter yet, so i hope you enjoy <3 it's also got one of my favorite tropes everrr hehehehe you could probs guess what it is halfway through. see you at the bottom and happy reading! sorry if there are typos i didn't proofread this one as much as the others haha

nav. ch1 :: ch2 :: ch3 :: ch4 :: ch5 :: ch6 :: ch7 :: ch8 :: ch9 :: ch10 (pending)

☾·̩͙꙳ moodboard no.1

♬.*ﾟplaylist

You don’t cry much these days, but when you do, it’s usually out of nowhere.

Like now, as you stand in the school’s photo lab, developing the shots that you took for UTokyo’s game against Osaka last week, and you have to swipe at the tears on your cheek threatening to fall all over the captured images of grass, benches, nets, banners, stands, and him.

One of the photographs catches your eye, and you pick it up from the table. It’s a candid moment you took of Gojo on the field right before you confessed to him. You had spotted him first while the team was doing their warm-up, and you thought he looked nice from the way he had that concentrated look on his face that you’ve learned to love. But right before you clicked the shutter, he had turned away, chasing after the ball, and so all you could capture was his back facing you as he looked off ahead into the distance. You wondered if that was how it’s always been this whole time–with you looking at him while he’s looking off at something else. It was a depressing thought, but your mind had a tendency for sadness since that day.

The sound of the photo lab door opening jolts you back to reality, and you quickly straighten your posture and wipe your cheek with your sleeve, trying to sniffle as discreetly as possible, then set the picture down. Your fellow film major greets you quietly, asking if you’re still using the developer liquid, to which you say no, then hand it over to them. You stuff your photographs into a folder and head out the door.

You make it across campus to the Film & Media Studies building, then up to the third floor where your professor's office is. His door was ajar, but you still knocked before entering.

He looks up from the photographs he was grading. “Oh, y/n, hello. How are you?”

“I’m well, thank you, yourself?” you ask, taking a seat on the chair that was fixed to face his desk. You pull your tote bag into your lap.

“Great, thanks. How can I help you?”

You slide the folder to him over the scraped, worn burgundy wood of his desk. “I still had to turn in my photos for the assignment due last week. I appreciate the extension.”

“Ah, right,” he says, taking the folder from you. “I’ll get around to grading them. I’m curious, what did you end up choosing for your subject matter?” He tucks the folder underneath the pile that was to his side.

“I took photos of the soccer team’s game against Osaka Uni on Thursday last week,” you tell him.

He frowns at you. “Film cameras don’t have that level of zoom, though. I do hope you followed the rubric guidelines for central object to frame ratio, otherwise I’ll have to take off points.”

“Oh– I did. I took the photos from the sidelines,” you tell him, panicking already.

His eyes widened. “From the sidelines? On the field?”

You nod at him, fidgeting with your bag in your lap.

“Wow, I can’t say I’ve ever had a student take photos like that before. That’s pretty challenging to pull off, though,” he says, sitting up straighter, “...you mind if I take a look at them right now?”

You shake your head. “Oh, no. Not at all.”

He pulls your folder out from the bottom of the pile, then gently slips the photos out of them, rearranging them all across his desk. He leans down closer to study some of them, tilting his head curiously at others, furrowing his brow in concentration to a select few. “These are incredible.”

You take in a deep breath. “Thank you, professor.”

He nods at you with acknowledgement, and you watch him as he studies the images quietly for another minute, then looks up at you. “Is there anything else I can help you with?” he asks when he notices you’re still seated.

“Ah…yes, there was something I wanted to ask you.”

“What is it?” He taps his pen on the desk.

“I was wondering if you could write me a letter of recommendation for the film graduate program.”

He nods, like he was expecting the question. “Yeah, of course. Just send me your resume and portfolio.” He taps eagerly on one of your images. “Please send me digitals for these, too.”

You let out a relieved exhale. “Yes, I will. Thank you so much, professor, I really appreciate it.”

You left the building feeling extremely relieved about your professor agreeing to write your recommendation, but also feeling sad because you couldn’t tell Gojo about it, since this was the full-circle moment for the little arrangement the two of you had. There’s a thought that considers texting him, and you take out your phone then go to his name, but your thumbs just can’t bring yourself to send him a message.

The days of the week go by in a blur, and between every single little moment in life, your mind always wanders to him. It’s hard to get over someone when you’re surrounded by them. Like late at night while you’re editing the digitals of the game last week to send to your professor, and you find yourself staring at the pictures you’ve taken of him. It’s hard to get over him when the school worships the soccer team and you’re forced to see promotional banners and posters all over campus with his stupidly beautiful face in them. You didn’t have the heart to block him on Instagram, because you remember that time he teased you about how you didn’t follow him back, and you wonder if it would make him sad if you blocked him, so you just resorted to deleting the app instead. And although you were the one that asked for space from him, you were growing increasingly annoyed at how good he seemed to be at keeping it.

The library wasn’t even much of a safe space either, since you overheard a group of girls the other day at a table arguing about which of the players on the team is the hottest, and so you find yourself doing your homework on a lovely Wednesday morning at your apartment instead.

You lean back in your chair and look up at the ceiling, and then jump when you hear your phone ring, quickly turning it over to read the caller ID. Nobara. You accept the call, placing her on speaker, then set your phone back down on your desk.

“Hey, Nobie, what’s up?”

“Hey, nothing much. Just wanted to ask if you wanted to hang out,” she says.

“Oh, I would love to, but I’m working on homework right now. It’s due in a couple of hours,” you sigh.

“Boo, you whore. For what class?”

“My stats 130 elective,” you say. “I’m a film major, why do I need to know statistics?” You tap your pen to your chin. “Actually, it might be valid.”

“Is that the class with the creepy professor?” she asks. “The one that got caught with a PornHub tab open while he was presenting his lecture slides.”

“Yeah.”

“I took his class last semester! I still have all my homework for it,” she exclaims on the other end, “do you want me to send it over?”

“Yes, omg, I could kiss you right now,” you groan, resting your head on your arm sprawled across your desk in exhaustion.

“So definite no to hang out?”

“Sorry, I’ll reach out later though,” you sigh, “also, my car is still in repair…apparently something came up with the engine. So we can’t go far unless we invite Mina.”

“That’s fine, I’m sure she’ll be thrilled to come if we invite her just to chauffeur,” she says sarcastically. “By the way, how’d the pictures come along? For the newsletter?”

You lift your head up off of the desk in a panic. Shit. You were so focused on turning in your digitals of the game to your professor that you totally forgot you were supposed to send them to Utahime as well. “Oh my god, I forgot. When do they finalize the release again?”

“Isn’t it today at noon? I sent over film club’s photos this morning,” she says.

You glance at the time. 11:56am.

“Nobara, I’ve gotta go. I need to call Utahime, sorry,” you say. She acknowledges you, telling you to hurry, and then you hang up.

You call Utahime and scribble down on a sticky note to paste on your wall as a reminder to buy her a loving gift basket one of these days because of course she extends the release deadline just for you. You finish touching up the digitals and then send them to her via email, and after you finish your statistics homework, she calls you again to meet up somewhere nearby.

“Thanks so much for coming here,” Utahime says as she sits across from you at one of the local cafes you frequent. “Also, this chai latte is so good, I’m honestly surprised.”

You nod at her. “This place has great drinks.” You slide a folder across the table to her and she sets her drink down to accept it.

“Sorry if it was a hassle, but I just had to ask for physicals of these photos,” she sighs as she pulls them out. “They’re amazing, seriously, I gasped when I saw them. I’m used to sifting through a lot of professional sports photos for the newsletter, for all of the teams on campus, but I’ve never seen photos as charming as these. It could be the film photography aspect, since most of the ones I see are digital, but I’m seriously shocked you could capture shots like this at a rowdy men’s soccer match.”

You’re shaking your head at her. “Please don’t compliment me so much, I’ll cry. And it’s no issue, I had a spare set of physicals from when I developed them. You can keep them.”

She smiles at you. “Okay, well then, I think it goes without saying that I’ll definitely be including them for the sports recap this week. I’ll send you the money soon, too.”

You clap your hands together and interlock your fingers. “I’m. So. Grateful. For. You.”

She laughs across from you and takes another sip of her latte before sitting back slightly, glancing at the photos spread across the table. “Hm…how busy are you for the rest of the semester?”

You tilt your head at her and bring your coffee to your lips, taking a sip before setting it back down. “Not terribly busy, I quit my job last month so I’m just taking my assignments as they come and go.”

Utahime nods at you, a thoughtful expression on her face, and she smooths down the fabric of her shirt. “Okay, well, I got an email from the school this morning that one of the newsletter photographers for the men’s soccer team is moving to a different city, so they’re looking to fill in the position as soon as possible and they asked if I knew anyone,” she mentions, resting her elbow on the table and then placing her hand on her cheek. “They usually only hire professionals, but if I put a word in for you, they’d probably offer it to you.”

Your eyes widen at her from across the table, heart beating a bit faster in your chest.

“They pay really well for a part-time job. It’s essentially full-time pay for part-time hours,” she continues, “but it’s probably because you’ll have to travel with the team to their away games, including unofficial matches and conferences. If you’re not that busy for the next two months, then I think it’d be a good opportunity for you to build experience.”

You purse your lips together, considering her words. Although it’s a bit different from your long-term career plans, it was still a great way to get experience before graduate school. And besides, you needed the money, considering you quit your job last month and your savings were starting to run thin–never mind the fact that your car repair bill went from a few thousand yen to somewhere in the tens-of-thousands. And you would prefer to still be able to afford rent. Oh, and eat. Possibly still pay for Netflix.

But then there was the fact that having that kind of job meant that you would be spending a lot of time with the soccer team, and therefore increases the chances of running into Gojo. And you’re supposed to be staying away from him to get over your feelings.

“It sounds like an amazing opportunity, really,” you start, “...but I can’t.”

Utahime frowns at you and sits up straight. “Really? I thought you’d be excited. Why not?”

You sigh. “It’s complicated.”

“y/n…” Utahime starts, “I don’t really know what’s going on in your head right now, but isn’t this your dream? For your work to reach people? I know it’s only a stepping stone, believe me I know very well the path to becoming any sort of artist is an uphill battle of hell, but I’ve known you for a while now. And I know how much your dreams mean to you, and how hard you’re willing to work for them.”

Your heart swells in our chest at Utahime’s words. She was right, and you were starting to get really sick of letting your fears hold you back from what you really wanted in life. “...you’re right, I’m sorry. I’d love to be considered for the position, if you could recommend me.”

She smiles and nods at you. “Will do.”

–

The email for the job offer comes surprisingly fast, and you quickly read through it before accepting. It wasn’t a horrible time commitment, given you’d only have to take pictures during active play during matches, give or take a couple hours before, and the photographers rotate between who takes up each of the conferences so the work was split up. You were able to meet a few of the newsletter photographers & journalists during the game last week, so you already knew some of them. The offer letter came attached with a full calendar of the soccer team’s practice schedule, official match schedule, unofficial match schedule, conference schedule, and other publicity schedule, and you’re shocked at how busy all the players must be. The fact that they still have time to be students–and for most of them, active participants in fraternities–was honestly beyond you.

It seemed like they only had four more official matches left, two being away matches, along with a couple of unofficial matches that they may or may not participate in depending on how the season goes for them.

Their next game was on Friday against Kyoto university, and you were scheduled to shoot for their sports conference the day following as well. So you find yourself on a train embarked for the countryside, and you peer out of the window with a nervous feeling in your stomach. The sparkling skyscrapers and bustling crowds of Tokyo gradually started to give way into sights of expansive lush greenery, picturesque and charming towns, and winding rivers surrounded by trees. The closer you got to Kyoto, the sky became more gray until a steady drizzle began to fall against the train window. When you reached the final station, the rain had dissipated, and the taxi ride to the hotel was only about fifteen minutes. The journey felt exhausting, and you were so incredibly ready to pass out in a comfy bed.

You stood underneath a small sidewalk roof near the vending machines lining the outside of the hotel, trying to keep your bag and suitcase with all your equipment in it dry from the remnant soft mist of rain still lingering in the air.

“Hey, Utahime, sorry to bother you so late,” you say, holding your phone between your shoulder and ear, “but is it the Hilton on 3rd street? Or on Main? Because if it’s the one on Main, then I may have messed up-”

You stop speaking when you hear a masculine voice down the road towards the left, echoing off of the lined up small shops along the sidewalk, and your heart could have recognized the sound anywhere. You’re swift to turn and face that direction, almost dropping your phone in the process, and you see him– the object of all your suffering lately.

Gojo stood there, wide-eyed and stopped completely in his tracks as the recognition of you under the dim street lighting flashes across his face. He’s in pajamas– a red long-sleeve cotton shirt that looks so stupidly soft and comfortable it almost makes you emotional, with some matching checkered red pants. It was the most casual clothing you’ve ever seen him in. His hair appears damp, slightly tousled, from what you could assume was an effort to dry it off fast. And he had crocs on. In sports mode. You make a mental note to ask him about his charms and if he’s willing to trade any of them with you. But maybe some other day. When it doesn’t hurt to think about him.

“y/n?” he calls your name out, astonished. He’s looking at you like he’s just seen a ghost but in the best way possible.

You blink at him, heart skipping a beat just from the mere sight of him, and when you hear Utahime’s voice on the line you’re shaken out of your trance. “Oh, sorry, I’m still here. I…I think I just had my question answered. Thank you, have a good night.” You pull your phone down, gaze lingering on your screen for way too long because you can’t brave yourself to look over at the man to your left, and you end the call.

There’s the sound of remnant puddles of water splashing as he takes a few steps closer to you, and you can see his reflection in the water of the one in front of you. The expression on his face matches the one that was there when you last saw him outside of the UTokyo stadium at the west side exit. It’s an expression you could still see every time you close your eyes.

Finally turning to face him, you purse your lips together. “Hi.”

“Hey, what are you doing here?” he asks, voice laced with confusion and you see him take in your appearance with eager flicks of his gaze all around, like he couldn’t believe you were standing in front of him right now.

“Satoru!” another familiar voice calls out. “Did you get the orange-flavored ones too? Choso’s a fucking idiot and got the grape ones instead. I hate those. They taste like medicine. And ass. Not that I would know what–” You see Geto emerge from the darkness to Gojo’s side, and now he’s looking at you with a surprised look too. “Oh, it’s y/n. What are you doing here?”

“Hey, you two,” you chirp, trying to act as if an entire world of awkwardness wasn’t being exchanged between you and Gojo right now, for the sake of hoping that Geto wasn’t a very good judge of energy. “I’m here to take pictures of the soccer team.”

Your eyes flicker to Gojo, who is still looking at you like he’s never seen a person before.

“Oh, is it for another one of your assignments?” Geto asks.

“No, it’s not. It’s for the newsletter,” you explain to him, “I guess it’s my job now.”

There are a few more distant footsteps that follow behind the two of them, with the crinkling noises of plastic bags hitting against thighs echoing through the streets, and eventually they catch up. You see Nanami and the UTokyo team’s goalie, you believe his name is Choso, arrive at this little gathering that was taking place outside of the hotel.

“That’s awesome!” Geto exclaims. “I’m sure the newsletter will lead to a lot of exposure.”

“Who reads the newsletter?” Choso asks.

Geto nudges him with his elbow. “Dude.”

“What?”

He then fills Choso in on the conversation, “Oh, my bad.”

“Don’t worry, y/n, I read the newsletter,” Geto says, “I read it like the morning paper.”

“It only comes out once a week, but nice try,” you respond, giving him a weary look.

Nanami crosses his arms. “I actually do happen to read it,” he says, “although I refrain from the soccer section. Feels rather egotistic to read it. I find the campus politics section to be enjoyable, though.”

The rest of you exchange annoyed glances at that.

“Satoru reads the soccer section,” Geto says, slinging an arm around him, “‘cause he’s full of himself.”

For a moment, Gojo remains silent, while his teammates, who had been observing him with amused expressions, gradually shift to awkward blinking, like they were expecting him to complain, or say something sarcastic, or joke around by now.

“I do read it,” he says, eyes locked on yours. “I saw the release from yesterday. Your pictures were stunning.”

You’re flustered from the way he’s looking at you. “Thanks.”

Choso opens the plastic bag he was holding, peering down into it. “Shit. Ice cream’s melting, guys.”

“Yeah, we should probably head back to the rooms,” Geto looks at you, “do you want any snacks?”

“Oh, no. I’m good. I was just about to go check-in,” you say to them.

The boys politely say bye to you, and Gojo mentions something about staying back for a bit and hands Nanami the plastic bag he was carrying before they head back into the hotel. And then the two of you are alone under this roof, drops of water falling from it in between the two of you. He takes a step towards you, and you instantly stiffen. He seems to notice because he sighs and then walks past you to the vending machine that was next to you, pulling out some spare change from his pocket and inputting it into the machine.

“Do you want anything to drink?” The machine feeds him something, and he crouches down to pick it up before standing up again.

“No, I’m good, thanks,” you say, hand clutching the handle of your suitcase.

He cracks the can of his soda open. “So, you’re going to be traveling with us for the newsletter now?” he asks, so concisely, like he felt that every word comes with a tax.

“Yeah.”

“We don’t have to act like we’re strangers.”

You turn to face him. “What should we act like then?”

There’s a hesitant look in his expression as he looks down at his feet and then back up at you. “Can’t we at least be friends?”

The question softens you at your core, the tone of his voice sounding genuine. Being friends with him sounds so nice, and you kind of wish that’s what you two always were. Just friends. Maybe it would have avoided all of this heartache. But deep inside you knew that just being friends with him wasn’t an option anymore, at least not for now. “No, sorry. That’s just a recipe for disaster. I have to go check-in now.”

You grab your tote bag from the bench, grip tight onto your suitcase handle and make your way splashing across the shallow puddles then through the hotel’s automatic doors into the warmth of the lobby.

The lighting inside was warm and there were moderately high ceilings adorned with vintage-looking chandeliers. Around the perimeter, there were amenities including a cozy lounge with a fireplace, a small bar serving cocktails, as well as a business lounge with booths and multiple TVs mounted to the walls playing the local news. It made you feel like you were on vacation, and getting to a hotel at this hour while on vacation always meant that you were about ready to pass out on some freshly washed and tucked white linen sheets after taking a nice warm shower with a lavender-scented mini soap bar.

Making your way through the maze of plush seating areas, you get to the concierge desk to check-in. There was a professionally-dressed woman with a slicked-back bun standing there behind the counter, her eyes scanning the computer screen in front of her, and a big, burly man that stood behind her wearing all black that appeared to be security.

“Hello, I’m here to check-in,” you say, placing your forearm on the cold black counter.

The lady doesn’t look up from the computer screen. You clear your throat.

“Oh, hello. Name on the reservation?” she asks you.

You take a look down at your phone screen. The reservation was still under the name of the person that had recently quit the job. “Yui Ishikawa.”

The lady behind the counter hums to herself, obnoxiously tapping at the keyboard with only one of her index fingers. She was chewing gum. “Hm. Don’t see that name here.”

“What?” You squint at your phone and refresh the page, then turn it to face her. “But it’s on your official booking site. There was email confirmation too.”

She glances at your phone screen then taps at the keyboard again, still obnoxiously loud, but she uses her other index finger this time. “Yeah, still nothing.”

“This has to be some kind of mistake,” you say to her.

She looks up at you with an annoyed expression. “Do you want to take a look at the screen? See for yourself.” She turns the monitor to face you.

You don’t even work here, but you could see clear as day on their interface software that there was a reservation for this Yui Ishikawa woman at this time tonight. You point at it. “It’s right there. The reservation is literally right there.”

She turns the screen back to herself and squints at it. “Oh. Well, unfortunately, we already gave that room to someone else. Since it wasn’t there on our system a half hour ago.”

“What? How is that fair?” You were starting to get seriously annoyed. That refreshing shower you were dreaming of was starting to sound more of a need than a want with every passing minute. “Can you give me another room?”

“No, sorry, we’re all booked for tonight,” she tells you, without offering any additional help.

You look at her baffled. The big burly man behind her has now taken an interest in the conversation as well. “Okay…can you tell me if there are any hotels nearby that I could stay at?”

“Look. This is the countryside, ma’am, there are only a handful of hotels in this area that aren’t tourist accommodations. It’s also the night before a men’s college soccer match, and there seems to be some business seminar taking place nearby too. You can call and check, but the closest hotel this large is about an hour away,” she tells you.

“What? An hour away? I can’t afford a cab ride like that,” you tell her.

“Unfortunately, that isn’t really my problem,” she says.

You blink at her. “Are you being serious? This is ridiculous.”

“Ma’am, we’re going to have to ask you to leave if you can’t comply with our booking rules,” she declares.

“Leave?! You’re the ones that messed up the booking!” You’re yelling now, a few heads turning from the bar at the back. Exhaustion was pulsing through your veins and your filter was slipping. “Do you have any idea how to do your damn job?”

The woman guffaws at you. “Alright, that’s it.” She snaps her fingers, and you watch as the big, burly man walks around the counter of the concierge desk to make his way to you.

You take a step back, watching in horror as he towers over you and grabs onto your arm. “Let’s leave without any issues, miss,” he says in a deep voice.

“What?! But– hey, that’s my suitcase! Don’t– wait–”

“Woah, woah, woah,” you hear a familiar voice call out from the left. “What’s going on here?”

The three of you turn your heads in the direction of the voice, and you see Gojo, still clad in those ridiculously soft-looking pajamas, doing a light jog up to the counter.

The woman at the reception desk straightens herself up immediately, and she pets down on her dress and fixes her hair at the mere sight of him. You resist the urge to roll your eyes. “Nothing to see here, sir! Just a crazy woman that can’t comprehend hotel establishment rules.”

“That crazy woman just so happens to be my wife,” he says, pulling the big burly man’s hand off of your arm.

All three of you look at him dumbfounded.

“Y-Your wife?” the woman asks, sounding equally surprised and disappointed. “But she’s complaining about the fact that she doesn’t have a room.”

“I know, she does that all the time,” he sighs, “she’s got–...early-onset…dementia. Sweetheart, what did I tell you about packing up all your things and leaving the room when I’m not watching you?”

You give him a what the fuck look. He scowls at you to just play along.

“So…she’s with you?” the woman asks.

Gojo nods. “She always forgets that we’ve already booked a room together. Just a silly little sickly lady. Isn’t that right, honey?” He’s holding your shoulders and making you face the concierge woman.

“Y-Yes…” you say awkwardly, trying to put on a smile.

“So, if you could forgive her behavior,” he says with a super pleading voice, pulling you into him so your back is flush against his front side. “I’ll keep her in check from now on.”

The woman lets out a scoff in disbelief. “Alright…just don’t let her out again.” You send her a nasty look. The big burly man lets out a hmph and steps away from you.

“Sure thing. Let’s go, honey,” Gojo says, grabbing the handle of your suitcase in one hand and your upper arm in his other, dragging you with him across the lobby to the elevators. It isn’t until he’s pressed the up button and you finally gain your footing again after stumbling a few steps that you yank away from his grip.

“What are you doing?” you hiss at him, feeling embarrassed.

He looks down at you with a raise of his eyebrow. “Saving you from getting kicked out of the only decent hotel within a thirty-mile radius?”

“I didn’t need your help, I had the situation under control,” you mumble, smoothing out the layers of your clothing.

“Yes. That’s exactly what that looked like,” he muses as the elevator door opens and he steps inside, taking your suitcase with him as hostage. You panic at the sight and step inside with him, the door closing behind you.

“Where are we going?” you ask.

“To my room,” he says, pressing a button on the control pad, “you couldn’t get one, right?”

Your eyes widen. “No…I couldn’t.”

Gojo’s room is on the fourth floor, eleven units down to the right, and you follow him with dragging feet all the way down. Once he makes it in front of the door and takes the keycard out of his pocket, he pauses and looks over at you. “Waiting for you to thank me.”

You narrow your eyes at him. “For what?”

He’s waving the card in the air tauntingly. “You look exhausted as hell right now. I’m the one with the access to a nice hotel vanity and a soft, warm bed,” he practically purrs the words.

You’re instantly folding. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, honey,” he chimes, pressing the card to the reader.

“Stop calling me that,” you grumble as he opens the door for you.

You step into the room, rolling your suitcase inside with you, and take a look around. There was a single bed with the headboard up against the left-side wall, a nightstand on both sides and a desk where you noticed Gojo had his laptop open and a few books out. The bathroom was to the right, and there was a long table that had a coffee machine as well as the TV on top of it.

You place your suitcase against the wall then turn around, standing only a few feet from the entrance of the room, to find Gojo still standing outside in the hallway.

“Do you have to go somewhere?” you ask him. “Why are you just standing there?”

“Oh, I don’t need any of my other stuff,” he says to you, tapping at his pocket where you can see the imprint of his wallet, “room’s all yours.”

Your eyes widen at him. “Wait…are you going to sleep somewhere else?”

He tilts his head at you, as if that was obvious. “Yeah, I was going to go crash on the couch in Suguru’s room or something.”

“But–” you start, stopping yourself.

He’s waiting for you to speak, but you can’t.

“Well…good night, then,” he says and he turns to the side, about to walk down the hall, when you reach out and grab the sleeve of his shirt, stopping him in his tracks.

This was a bad idea. You’re supposed to be putting distance between the two of you right now, so that you can get over him. This was a man that very clearly said he didn’t have feelings for you. But honestly, you missed him. You missed him so damn much this past week, and you can only be strong for so long.

“You have an important match tomorrow,” you say quietly, “you should be getting a good night’s rest. We’ll share the bed.”

He turns to face you, looking down at where you were pinching the fabric of his shirt, which was just as soft as you had imagined, and he glances up to meet your gaze once again. “I’m…really confused right now.”

“What if you guys lose and are booted from the competition, and I have to spend the rest of my life regretting the fact that the reason the school lost a 12-year championship streak is all because I made you sleep on a couch?” you ask him.

He takes a step towards you. “You really want me to stay?” His voice was low.

“Yes,” you say. “We’re mature adults. Despite everything, we can just…share a bed for one night, right?”

He’s silent for a moment. “I think you trust me a little too much.”

Your face felt hot. “Are you telling me that I shouldn’t?”

“I’m telling you that you should really think this through,” he says.

“Just stay. Please.” The tone to your voice came off much more desperate than you would’ve liked.

He looks at you like the last thing in the world he could say right now was no. “You’re sure?”

“Yes.”

“Positive?”

“Satoru.”

“Okay,” he says, walking past you into the room, like he wasn’t really in the mood to argue about it anymore.

You sigh, sulking your shoulders a little bit, and watch as he takes a seat at the desk and continues to click through things on his laptop, occasionally sipping on the cup of coffee he had made for himself, as if your presence here was no unnatural thing.

This all felt so domestic for you. This feels like the most intimate the two of you have been with one another, despite the fact he’s literally made you cum with his tongue before.

“Who drinks coffee at this hour?” you ask, crouching down to unzip your suitcase, opening it up to find your cosmetics bag and a fresh pair of clothes to change into.

“Caffeine doesn’t really affect me anymore.” His eyes were still stuck on his laptop screen.

“You sound dead inside,” you comment, standing back up straight. You step over your suitcase that was on the floor and head into the bathroom, about to close the door but you open it enough to peer over at him from inside. “I’m going to take a shower,” you announce.

You see him poke his tongue to his cheek, leg bouncing up and down underneath the desk, and he squints at his laptop screen like there’s something so damn important that he must concentrate on or else the entire universe would collapse inside of a black hole. “Cool. Have fun.”

“I will.”

“I’m glad.”

“No peeping.”

“There’s a lock on the bathroom door. Feel free to use it.”

“That’s rich, coming from you.” And then you’re shutting the door.

It felt nice to freshen up, especially after that long journey, and then you’re doing your skincare in the mirror while you’re wrapped in a towel, trying to forget the fact that the man you quite seriously have immense feelings for is somewhere outside that door just a few feet away in this small hotel room. You spray a spritz of your perfume onto your skin, something there’s literally no point in doing before bedtime, but you still do it…for no particular reason at all, obviously.

When you step back out into the room, Gojo’s eyes are instantly on you from where he stood near the closet. He takes in your appearance and lets out a laugh, looking at you with amusement.

“What?” you ask.

“You look so cute,” he says, “with your little sloth pajamas.”

You’re fully blushing as you make your way over to the armchair in the room to set your cosmetics bag down on it to sort through the mess you’ve just made of it. “Don’t call me cute,” you scold, searching for your lip balm.

You could feel his frown from behind you. “You don’t like it?”

“No. I love it.”

“I’m not following.”

You turn around to face him. “Satoru. You promised me you wouldn’t lead me on anymore. That includes teasing me or complimenting me.”

He looks at you incredulously. “What? I can’t even call you cute? This fucking sucks.”

“Your problem,” you say.

“So you’re cool with sharing a bed, but you’re not cool with me complimenting you,” he lays it out.

“We’re sharing this bed out of the kindness of my own heart,” you say to him, “because I care oh-so-very-much about your soccer career, and understand how important good sleep is for an athlete’s performance. I’m just that considerate of a person.” You point a strict finger at him. “But for your information, if you touch me while we’re in bed, I’ll kill you.”

“Hm. Not sure if I feel threatened or turned on right now,” he says.

You roll your eyes and finally zip up your cosmetics bag, set it on the table then make your way to the left side of the bed. When you glance at the nightstand, you notice Gojo has his wallet, his phone and his charger all situated there.

“Why’s your stuff here?” you ask him.

“Huh? Oh, I was going to sleep on that side,” he says to you.

“I usually sleep on the left side,” you tell him.

“But I usually sleep on the left side.”

You blink at him.

“I–…I’ll sleep on the right side,” he suggests, shoulders tense and on edge.

“Okay,” you shrug, and move his stuff.

Gojo spends some time freshening up in the bathroom too, and when he comes out he looks like he’s actually tired, and you feel like it’s the first time you’ve seen him look as worn out as he probably should be for someone as busy as him. You’re already settled under the sheets, the duvet pulled all the way up to your chin as you lay on your back. He comes up to the right side of the bed, checking his phone for a few minutes while standing and rubbing at the back of his neck, then plugs his phone into the charger. He grabs the sheets, about to pull them back, when he pauses and looks at you.

“Are you su-”

“If you ask me if I’m sure about this one more time, I will no longer feel sorry for you, and will make you go sleep on the love-stained couch,” you threaten him.

He grimaces at your choice of words and pulls the sheets back, slipping himself into bed. “Why do you have to put it like that? You’re gross. Also, I’m pretty sure this bed has seen less-than-holy things too.”

The only lighting in the room came from the warm, dim bulb of the night lamp at Gojo’s nightstand. An incredibly awkward silence settles between the two of you. Or maybe it’s just awkward for you, because he seems fine. He’s on his back too, looking up at the ceiling, practically motionless but there’s the faintest sound of his breathing every once in a while and it’s a sound you’ve never heard in such detail before.

He turns his head to you, but you don’t meet his gaze just yet. You shuffle a little bit, hip bumping against his side, elbow hitting his arm. He’s masculine next to you, shoulders hard, muscles heavy, but when you finally turn your head to glance at him and see the expression on his face, you realize that everything about him was rigid—except for the way he was looking at you.

“When did you sneak it in?” he asks.

“Sneak what in?”

“The can of strawberry vanilla soda. Into my bag.”

You swear your heart stills a little in your chest.

“Before,” is all you say to him.

He sighs. “y/n…”

“It’s okay, you don’t have to feel bad for me. I wanted you to have it, regardless of how I thought my confession would go,” you assure.

It’s hard to read his expression from the side while he’s looking up at the ceiling, but it’s softer than it was a second ago. The need to change the subject consumes you.

“Why do you have calluses on your fingertips?” you ask him. “You’re a soccer player, you don’t use your hands for anything.”

“I play the guitar,” he replies simply.

You perch yourself up on an elbow, looking down at him with interest. His eyes flicker to your face. “Really?”

“No. I was just kidding. Hate the way you got excited though. I might have to pick up a guitar now.”

“Can you just answer me?” you sigh, flopping down onto your back again.

He laughs a little, a sound you feel like you could get drunk on at this point. He lifts his head up off the pillow enough to tuck his right hand underneath it, then rests it back down. You wish there was a mirror on the ceiling so you could see the flex of his arm. “Coach has us do the rock climbing wall at the gym at least once a week for practice. He thinks it’s a good workout. Causes a hell of a lot of skin tear though.”

“That’s it? That’s the reason?”

“Mhm.”

You shake your head, “You should learn how to play the guitar, because that’s a lame reason to have calluses.”

He lifts his head up off the pillow again and brings the hand that was tucked under his nape to in front of his face and he just looks at it. You look at it too. “Why are you so obsessed with the state of my hands?

“A girl can’t be curious?” you ask.

“They’re not that bad.” You wonder if you’ve made him self-conscious.

You watch the way he flexes his fingers open and then closed. He turns it around, and you can see the veins trailing down from the valleys of his knuckles, disappearing into the fabric of his long sleeve. You remember that party, the two of you in that bathroom, when his hands were all over you, and it’s suddenly a little hard to breathe. He turns his hand again so the palm faces him, but now it’s also slightly turned towards you too.

“They’re bad here,” you say, pointing to his ring finger where you see slight peeling at the tip. The padded skin of your finger touches his skin. “A little bad here, too.” You point to his index finger, careless enough to allow all of your fingers to brush against his this time.

He watches you. “Your hands are really small,” he comments, like it was a marvel to him.

You look over at him briefly, and there’s not a single sign of tension in his face as he observes the image of your hand next to his hand in the air above him. He looked like he was at peace.

“Yours are just big,” you tell him.

He knows he’s not supposed to, and you really shouldn’t have let him, but he interlocks his fingers with yours regardless, holding onto your hand. You feel the roughness of those calluses all across your soft skin. His thumb runs over the curve of your knuckle, almost in a soothing way, like he was trying to apologize to you for something. And this was the only way he knew how.

Something sobers him up, because he suddenly pulls his fingers from yours and drops his hand to the duvet. Your hand lingers in the air for a few seconds before you do the same. And now you’re both awkwardly staring up at the ceiling again.

“Sorry,” he says, barely above a whisper.

“It’s okay,” you whisper too.

The silence settles for longer.

He sighs. “It’s not you, it’s me,” he says out of nowhere.

“Huh?” you turned your body a little to face him, and he was looking up at the ceiling as if there was something across the texture that he was trying to decipher.

“I don’t want you thinking that the reason I can’t-,” he pauses, to think carefully about his words, “...that the reason I can’t return your feelings is because of you, or anything you’ve done. It’s been a while since I’ve liked anyone to be honest, and I’m just really not looking to date right now.”

You’re hurt by his words. Because even if he didn’t want to date anyone, you thought that he would’ve at least tried to for you. You thought that he had at least some feelings that the two of you could’ve worked off of. “Why don’t you want to date anyone?”

“Reasons.”

“Obviously. What reasons?” you prod. When he doesn’t respond, you sigh. “If it’s something traumatic, I get it. My hamster died in the fourth grade,” you say, “I’ve never known peace since.”

He turns onto his side to face you with a soft and amused smile on his face. “Sorry to hear that. What was your hamster’s name?”

You try not to feel hot from the burn of his gaze and you turn onto your back to look up at the ceiling again. “Mr. Guilmon,” you say.

“Like…guilmon from digimon?

“Mhm.”

“You like digimon?”

“Oh yeah, I used to watch it all the time when I was a kid. My mom wanted to name my hamster ‘Scout’ but I refused,” you tell him, blinking a few times as the memories from your childhood come back to you. A small smile makes its way onto your face.

“I love digimon,” he says, fast, like he couldn’t contain it.

“Really?” you give him a sidewards glance, a little surprised.

He hesitates slightly before sighing, turning over in the opposite direction to reach for his wallet on his nightstand. You feel the fabric of the duvet stretch across you from the movement, and you remember just how intimate this all felt. He’s laying on his back again, holding his wallet up in the air with both hands as he flips it open, then slides his credit card up out of the slot, and shows it to you. Digimon themed. You have to purse your lips together to hold back your laughter.

He turns his head to look at you when you can’t help but let a little noise escape your mouth, and you can see through the laughter-induced sheen of tears in your eyes that he’s frowning.

“Hey–”

“I’m sorry–” you're fully laughing at this point, hand over your mouth to try to contain yourself, “it’s just– oh my god— you’re the last person I would’ve expected to have been such a nerd.”

“I’m not a nerd–” he tries to argue but you snatch the card out of his hand to study it closer, and also to memorize the numbers on the back.

“Popular soccer boy Gojo Satoru,” you’re giggling, “has a custom Digimon credit card.”

When he tries to reach for it, you stretch your arm off to the left. His weight leans on you, chest pressing against the curve of your shoulder, arm extending across you as he tries to grab his card back. “Quit it,” he mutters.

“No,” you say, holding it further to your left, weakly trying to push him away from you.

“Quit it,” he repeats, face scowling now with what looks like embarrassment, and he holds his upper body up by the elbow, leaning over you even more to reclaim it, “or else.”

“Or else, what?” you say through wheezes, and it seems like something in him snaps because suddenly he grabs your wrist, hard, pinning it down onto the mattress, holding it there next to your head, and his entire upper body is towering over you. Shocked, you’re breathing fast, your eyes darting across his face, and he’s looking at you with a furrowed brow and a tense jaw.

“Or else I won’t keep my promise,” he says through a harsh breath, his voice low and rough.

You’re stunned underneath him. “What promise?” you ask, breathlessly.

He leans down closer, to the point where the fringe of his hair brushes against your forehead. “My promise to hold myself back from you.”

You swallow hard, chest heaving. You feel the heat of his hand on your wrist burning through to your veins. You try to squirm slightly in his grip, but he just presses your wrist down further into the mattress.

He glances at your lips, eyes dilated and stern, and leans down even closer to you. “Do you have any idea how bad I’ve been wanting to punish you for leaving me in that bathroom by myself?” he says in a voice so husky you feel the arousal build at your center the second your head registers it.

You can’t find your words. He keeps his eyes locked on yours, as if to make sure yours stay on his too, and you’re docile under him until he’s distracted you enough to pinch his credit card between two of his fingers and discretely pull it out from your grip. He then lets go of your wrist and disappears out of your line of sight when he flops back down onto the mattress next to you, tucking his card back into his wallet.

“But I won’t. Because I’m a nice person, and will respect your space. Or whatever.”

You don’t know what to say, your hand finding a place over your heart as you try to take deep breaths to calm yourself down.

“We should probably go to sleep,” he sighs after a minute, tossing his wallet back onto the nightstand and reaching over to turn off the light.

It’s dark now in the room, the only light coming from through the layered fabrics of the curtains. It's a cold light, possibly from the moon and maybe some dim neighboring white street lights, but it’s enough to where you could still see the slight texture of the ceiling, and maybe his face.

You both spend a few minutes trying to get comfortable. You try not to bump your butt against him, or brush your chest against his arm, but it happens a couple times anyway, and you mentally curse yourself for it. The rise of the duvet fabric from his chest becomes shallow with his breathing, and you think he’s fallen asleep, but then the two of you turn over at the exact same time, facing each other, eyes flying open and gazes meeting. It startles the both of you, but neither of you look away or say a word. The two of you just sit in the moment for what feels like hours, and very could’ve easily been.

You’re the first to break the silence. “You know, there was a time where I thought that you weren’t even real.” You’re speaking hushed, like you’re afraid someone will hear, even though there’s only two souls in this room right now.

“What?” he asks, a slight raise to his eyebrow. “...why.”

“I don’t know. You’re like this urban legend around campus. You probably don’t know it, since you’re in it, but the world you’re in is very different from the world the rest of us students are in.”

He’s silent for a moment, his face being briefly illuminated by the reflection of a car’s headlights on the windows of the surrounding building. “I think I know what you mean.”

You blink at him. “I thought you would have a few more follow-up questions to that, but I guess you’re surprisingly self-aware.”

He hums to himself. “I think I can just put it into perspective.”

“Perspective?” you ask. You’re hanging onto every single one of his words tonight. You don’t want a single one of them slipping through you, not understood.

“Yeah,” he says, “there are moments where I feel like I’m not in that world anymore. And it feels nice. To get out of it.”

You want to ask him when those moments are, but he’s quick to speak again.

“I guess that means I’m aware of the moments where I am in it, so I know that it exists, if that makes sense? I don’t know.” He looks down at your pajamas, at the dancing sloth at the front, and the crease to his brow relaxes slightly.

“Mhm, makes sense.”

His eyes are back on you, studying. There’s a strange look on his face that you can’t really comprehend. “I want to know about your world,” he says.

You breathe in deep, and exhale shallow. “My world is simple. I want to be a filmmaker and then live in a little cottage.”

He smiles at you. “A little cottage?”

“Yeah,” you say, “maybe in the countryside. The Italian countryside. With my own garden in the backyard so I can use fresh zucchini in my salads.”

“Any animals? Pets?” he asks, like he’s envisioning it all in his head too.

“Maybe some chickens,” you say, “I promised Mr. Guilmon I’d name another one of my pets after him someday. I have to keep my promise.”

He nods. “You do.”

There’s another silence, but it doesn’t feel awkward this time.

“Did you turn your photos in to your professor?” he asks.

“Yeah, I did,” you tell him. “Earlier this week.”

“Nice. What about your reference for grad school?”

“I asked him for it.”

“Oh?” His eyebrows raise. “How’d it go?”

“Mm…I was really nervous, but it went well. He said he’d do it.”

There’s such a tenderness to his expression that you feel so compelled to kiss him right now. “That’s awesome. I’m proud of you. That’s one step closer to your dream.”

You purse your lips together from his words, sitting with the warm feeling in your chest. You want to thank him again, but instead all you say is “we’re even now.”

He lets out a small chuckle. It comes from his throat. “You’ve said that so many times.”

“I know.” Because you can’t believe it’s all over. This little arrangement between the two of you. You don’t want it to be over. “I can’t remember when the first time I said it was.”

“That night,” he answers you fast and with certainty, like it was at the forefront of his mind, “when you drove over rocks. And we sat together on the curb. And I realized how badly you take care of your car. You don’t need thousands of chain restaurant napkins in your glovebox, by the way. No matter how much you might think you do.”

“Wow. I was almost romanced by you for a second, but you ruined it,” you mumble.

You’re instantly taken back to that night. You remember the gentle quality in his eyes as he stared up at the stars, and you can still see the reflection of that sky in his eyes right now with the way he’s looking at you.

“I really liked you that night,” you whisper, “I wish you were like that all the time.”

“Am I not like that all the time?” he asks, voice soft to match yours.

“No,” you say, “sometimes you’re mean.”

His eyes on you are gentle, somewhat careful. “I’m sorry for being mean.”

You wonder if you can change his mind. If you can will him to like you back, if you can will him into wanting a relationship with you. You want to be his exception, not his rule.

“It’s okay. I’m mean sometimes, too,” you say, “mean to myself for sharing a bed with a guy that doesn’t like me.” He’s looking at your lips as you speak. “I’m bad like that.”

“You’re not bad,” is all he says.

“I am,” you say, and you inch closer to him, until there’s hardly any space between the two of you. You look up at him, faces inches away. You feel so safe with him, and yet you also feel scared, because you like him so much that you would let him ruin you if he wanted to. You press a flat palm to his shirt, searching for his heart, and you find that it’s beating fast in his chest. “I’m a bad woman, Satoru.”

“y/n,” he says, like a warning.

“I mean it,” you whisper.

“You said you’d kill me if I touch you,” he reminds you, sounding a little breathless.

“I can’t kill you, you’re way stronger than me,” you whisper, “so touch me.” Your hand is gripping onto the fabric of his shirt now, tight, with desire. He’s looking at you with a whole lot of desire too, but there was something else there as well. “Please.”

He wraps his hand around your wrist–the heat of his touch that you so badly wanted, craved, finally on you–but it’s to pull you away from him. Your grasp on his shirt releases and he brings your hand to the front of your chest, laying it down gently before letting it go. Your wrist lays limp there, missing his touch. Limp in front of your beating heart.

“Let’s just go to sleep, okay?” he says softly.

Your eyes widen when you look at him, and you couldn’t even hide the hurt that settled across your face if you tried. Gaze dropping to his chest, you see the way it was rising with every breath he took, and for the second time in this life, you’ve felt so utterly rejected by him. You give him a compliant nod, and scootch back away from him before turning away. He stays as he is, watching your back, and you can feel his gaze on the nape of your neck.

Counting the minutes to fall asleep felt exhausting, but the last thing you remember before you closed your eyes was the feeling of a tear trickling down onto your pillow, wet and cold against your cheek.

–

You wake up the next morning to an empty bed, and an even emptier feeling heart. There’s also this weird feeling of disappointment within you, and you don’t really know why.

Grabbing your phone on the nightstand, you quickly search for the email with the men’s soccer team practice schedule, and you see that they had a sharp 8am practice this morning before the game in the afternoon. The time reads 6:37am, and you’re wondering where Gojo went so early in the morning before heading off to the practice field.

You went back to sleep for a couple hours, and then woke up again. By the time you took a shower, got dressed, and went downstairs to the hotel lobby to eat breakfast, it was already 10:00am and it was time to make it to the field so you could set up and calibrate your camera prior to taking photos for the match. Following Utahime’s gameday instructions, you took a cab to the location with all of your gear.

The Kyoto soccer stadium was less of a stadium and more of an extremely large and open expanse of grass that had enormous silver metal stands stretching across the perimeter. It was something you would expect of an area in the countryside, but security was still somehow tight across the fenced off area.

It was still a couple hours before the game, so the field was bustling with pre-game set-ups and the stands were empty. There were a few sports canopies being put up, as well as a small truck with workers that were working to stock up the hydration stations. A few men in suits were seated at tables with notepads and clipboards, looking busy in conversation and on what sounded like business calls. As you walk down the sidelines, you notice a few other people checking the distances between the goals and the chalk markings across the field. The stands were extremely close to all of the action, and when you look to the right, you see a couple of familiar faces there.

“Ah, y/n! We’re over here.”

You approach the group of three people, all seated on the lowest metal bench of one of the spectator sections. There were a bunch of tripods, cameras, cases, and laptops sprawled across in front of them. You recognize Hana and Minato, but you don’t recognize the other man sitting with them. You had met Hana and Minato at the game against Osaka last week, they were both professional photographers for the newsletter.

Hana hops off the bench and comes up to you. “It’s seriously so cool you’re here with us and that Utahime got you this gig,” she says to you with a smile. “Make sure your schedule is free on nights after matches, all us photographers usually get dinner together afterwards. You’re the baby out of us, so we’ll pay for you.”

You return her smile with one of your own. “That’s sweet, and sure I’ll try to.”

You glance at the man whose name you didn’t know, your gaze meeting his, and soon enough he’s jumping up onto his feet too and making his way over to you.

“Ah, this is Kaito. Kai for short,” Hana says, gesturing to the man, and then to you.

Kai extends his hand out for you to shake. He’s tall and a bit lean. His style is really boyish—totally nailing the street photographer outfit with the white shirt underneath a flannel one, and some Carhartt pants paired with some Vans. You reach out to shake his hand, and he holds onto it for a second longer than you would’ve expected.

“Hi,” you greet him and tell him your name.

“That’s a nice name,” he says with a smile.

Hana claps her hands together. “Okay! We all know each other now, that’s great. We should get started prepping before the players get here, I believe they’re scheduled to be here in an hour.” She walks over to the benches and picks up her digital camera. Minato grabs his as well as his tripod, then walks over to Hana’s side. “The way we usually do it is to split the field into corners, and each of us works that perimeter. The videographers are here too, so just make sure you don’t accidentally knock over or stand in front of one of their cameras.”

All three of you nod at her and you unzip your case to take your film camera out. Kai is next to you, looking at the device in your hands curiously.

“Kai, you can work with y/n for today since it’s her first day. Split up those two corners over there,” Hana says, pointing to the other end of the field. You and Kai look in that direction. “Minato and I will take the other short end.”

With a few more discussions and detailed instructions, the four of you disperse to your assigned locations. You’re a step ahead of Kai, although he should really be the one leading your stride since you’re the new one here, but he soon enough catches up to you.

“Is that a Canon AE-1?” he asks you, pointing to your camera.

You look at him a little surprised. “Yeah, it is. As vintage as they get.”

“Sweet, I used to shoot on film too. Second-hand?”

“No, third. Still cost me an arm and a leg, though,” you sigh.

He laughs. “They’re not that expensive.”

“I’m a broke college student. I sometimes have to choose between paying rent and eating food,” you say to him.

He kicks at a random can on the grass, sending it flying forward, instead of picking it up. “Yeah, definitely don’t miss those days.”

“When did you graduate?” you ask.

“From UTokyo two years ago,” he says.

You bend over to pick up the can he kicked and jog a little to the trashcan nearby, tossing it in, then jog back to him. “That’s nice. You’ve been doing this for two years?”

“Yup,” he says to you as the two of you reach the corner of the field outlined by freshly drawn chalk. He kneels down on the grass, sets his camera case down, and opens it up. Your jaw drops.

“Is that a—Leica camera?” you ask him, shocked.

He smirks up at you. “Sure is.”

“Oh, so you’re just rich, then,” you sit down on the grass to look at it with interest, marveling at its condition.

“Nope. I’ll bet I got it for cheaper than your Canon there,” he points to the camera hung at your neck.

You meet his gaze. “No way.”

“Way,” he says, pulling out the attachable lens before wiping at it with a microfiber cloth, “I know a guy. He sells used cameras. The only issue is you’ve gotta refurbish them yourself.”

You sigh. “Wonderful. Because I would know how to do that.”

He lets out a half-laugh, and you glance up briefly to look at his expression. He was amused. “It’s pretty easy, just gotta do it once. And then you’ll have a used Leica that works brand-new, all for just under a hundred-thousand yen.”

You’re looking at him with surprise again. “That cheap?”

“Yup.”

“Wow…” Your finger plays with the lens cap on your camera.

“If you want, I can send you his info. But if you want to meet up with him, it’ll probably have to be facilitated through me,” Kai says, “He takes clients by recommendation. No use in selling a used camera to an idiot that doesn’t know how to refurbish it. He’s looking for niche photographers that have the interest.”

You press your lips together, considering it. “Sure.”

He hands his phone to you. “Alright, gimme your number.”

You hesitate for a second before typing your number into his contacts then hand it back and watch as he saves it in his phone. “Canon girl. Won’t forget ya.”

The two of you make work for a second, eyeing the field and mapping out angles of where to get the best shots during play. Kai gives you some pointers and you’re marveling at how good they are.

“Not really used to shooting on film anymore,” he mumbles, peering through the hole on your camera when you handed it over to him, “but usually a one over five-hundred shutter speed works well for sports. I’d switch between that and over two-fifty though, to avoid a blurry finish.”

“Thanks,” you say to him, wanting to write all this down to not forget it. “Wish I knew this last week.”

“Why shoot on film?” he asks out of nowhere, handing your camera back to you. “Why not digital?”

“Oh, it’s a personal interest,” you say to him, adjusting your shutter speed as he suggested, “I think there’s a charm to it. I want to be a movie maker, and shoot on film medium.”

He frowns at you. “How are you going to do that?”

You tilt your head at him, shuffling on the grass. “I’m going to apply to the film graduate program at UTokyo to start.”

He laughs at that from where he’s seated across from you. “Really? That’s a waste of your time.”

Your heart sinks a little in your chest from his tone. “Why would it be a waste of my time?”

He turns to face you more directly. “y/n, trust me, I know this career path. Been there, done that. Millions of film majors like yourself always have these big-ass dreams like ‘I want to become a director, I want to do screenplay’ etc., but only one or two of them actually succeed.”

Your shoulders sulk. It’s not the first time you’ve heard those words from someone—your own parents practically recited them word-for-word before you headed off to college—but you had been doing really well all of senior year to ignore that nagging little voice in your head. It was honestly quite triggering to hear it all again right now. “Well, I think I can do it.”

He lets out a short scoff. “You sound real convincing there.” When he catches sight of your upset expression, he straightens his back a little. “My bad. Just trying to look out for you. I’m your senior in this industry. I know my way around these things. Trust me.”

You nod slowly. “I know. Thanks.” Part of you wonders if he’s just projecting.

“Well anyway,” he shrugs, “I think you should just focus on photography for now. It’s the safest career option for you to do.”

“I guess you’re right,” you say, wanting to diffuse the conversation.

The two of you disperse to your assigned corners once the stands start to fill with spectators. Shortly after, the players make their introductions onto the field, and you can see Gojo across the field. He’s too far to read his expression, but for some reason when you look at him, that disappointed feeling from this morning comes back to you. You try to push it down and just focus on your task at hand.

UTokyo does well during the match, and Gojo seems to be playing much better than the Osaka game last week, scoring two goals within the first half. There were a couple of times where there were throw-ins near your corner, and you made eye contact with him as he’s breathing heavily, wiping the sweat off his face with his jersey, and every time you look at him, that melancholic feeling washes over you again. UTokyo wins 3-2, the crowd evidently disappointed as they were rooting for their home team, and by the time the disgruntled fans started to clear the stands, the sun was setting over the horizon and the sky was a golden color.

The referees on the field begin to oversee the post-match proceedings with the players. Kai comes around to meet you at your corner, and Hana and Minato arrive there too.

“Hey team! How’d it go?” Hana asks, a little out of breath from her journey over here.

“Went fine,” Kai responds.

“It was a little tricky,” you comment, “but I think my photos came out well.”

Hana nods. “Alright, sounds good. Are we still on for dinner tonight?”

Kai and Minato nod, and then all three sets of eyes are on you. You hesitate for a moment, and look off past them to where you see the group of soccer players in conversations with the coaches and referees. You see Gojo standing there, his hands on his hips as he peered across the field, tilting his neck to the side repeatedly, and you realize he had been doing that all match long. That unsettling feeling within you starts to brew once again. “Uh, I’m really sorry, but I’m not feeling very well. I think I might just head back to the hotel.”

Hana and Minato nod at you with a concerned expression, while Kai just looks disappointed.

“Okay, well, I hope you feel better,” she says.

You end up taking an Uber back to the hotel in haste, not wanting to run into Gojo or any of the other soccer players after their match, and make it to the room, using the key card that Gojo gave you to get inside. You take a shower to freshen up, and by the time it’s 7pm, you’re starving. You put on a simple outfit and make it downstairs into the lobby of the hotel, about to go peruse the nearby dining options, but right when you step out of the elevator, you run into Gojo.

There’s a look of pleasant surprise on his face and you take in his appearance. He was still wearing his soccer jersey, covered in grass and dirt stains, and his face was slightly flushed from exertion. You figured he just came back from the field.

“Hey,” he says, “sorry, I was just about to head over there.” He jerks his head off towards the lobby, and you glance in that direction. There was a group of maybe thirty people gathered around the lounging areas and high-tables over at the business suite, and you recognize them as UTokyo’s soccer players, along with Coach Yaga and other team staff. The players were still all clad in their uniforms, carrying all their stuff, and there were plays of today’s game rerunning across the TV screens. You realize they’re probably prepping for interview questions for tomorrow’s conference.

“Oh, please, go ahead,” you say to him.

He tilts his head at you. “Are you doing alright?”

You were aware that things might feel awkward after last night, and that your cheeks would probably feel hot like they do now the next time you had to talk to him. Your mind takes you back to the memories, when you think about how badly you wanted him to stay with you in the room because of that hollow feeling in your chest from missing him, despite how you knew it was bad for you. Because this man standing in front of you doesn’t like you in the way that you like him.

And then it clicks. The reason for that feeling of disappointment you’ve had since the moment you woke up today.

When you glance up at Gojo this time, you see him differently than you had from a second ago. You finally notice the slight dark circles under his eyes, and figure out that the reason he’s been tilting his neck to the side all day was because he was trying to stretch out a kink. You vaguely recall that moment you woke up in the middle of the night, and your sleepy brain registered that there was no longer the dip of him in the mattress next to you.

“When did you leave the room?” you ask him. You know your voice is quiet when he has to lean down a bit to hear you.

He takes his time answering, indulging in a few breaths. “What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean,” you say, starting to sound hostile, “you left during the night, didn’t you?”

He doesn’t deny it.

“You left once I fell asleep,” you say, eyes widening with realization.

He sighs. “Yes.”

“Where did you go to sleep?” you ask, trying to keep your tone level.

“Suguru’s room had an extra couch. I pushed them together.”

You felt sick and sad, feeling something worse than rejection right now. There was a part of you that still thought that all of this from him was just a joke. A prank. That he was finally going to say just kidding, I like you too. The reason you’ve been so disappointed since the minute you woke up today was because there was a part of you that thought you were going to wake up this morning with his arms wrapped around you, back pressed tight to his chest while he whispers sweet nothings in your ear of how much he likes you, of how much he wants you, of how much he wants to be with you.

“Why? Even after I said I didn’t want you to have bad sleep?” Your voice was laced with hurt. You didn’t even know how to explain to him why it upset you, because deep down you’re scared it isn’t even valid.

“It’s fine,” he says, “I played fine today. And we won.”

“You could’ve stayed. Do you really hate me that much?” Your words are shooting to kill now. “So I’m good enough to finger in a bathroom at a frat party, but not good enough to sleep next to?”

He furrows his brow. “I don’t understand why we’re arguing about this,” he says, tone starting to match yours, “you’re the one that wanted space. I was just trying to respect that.”

“If you really wanted to respect my space, you wouldn’t have agreed to share the bed with me in the first place.”

“y/n,” he says, “that’s not fair.”

“You should’ve known better.” You’re breathing fast, tone searingly accusive. “You know that I’m trying to get over you, and that I’m vulnerable, and that I’m probably confused about a lot of things right now.”

“I ask if we could at least be friends, you say no because it’d be some recipe for disaster, then you practically beg me to stay with you and tell me to touch you while we’re laying down together. You don’t think that’s confusing for me too?” he counters.

Your cheeks flush with embarrassment at the memory of your desperate actions last night, and he instantly looks apologetic. You feel like you’re being unfair, but you feel like he’s being unfair too.

“I’m the one with feelings,” is all you say in your defense.

He swipes at his chin roughly with the back of his hand, smudging the dirt up to his cheek, and then closes his eyes for a second, like the weight of today has finally hit him all at once. He looks exhausted. “Right,” he says, softly, “I’m sorry.��

“Yo, Satoru!” one of his teammates yells from the center of the lobby. “Coach needs you, man.”

He rubs a hand down his tired face then throws a haphazard glance over his shoulder. “Yeah, I’ll be there in a sec,” he calls out and then looks back at you. You can’t make eye contact with him, and just stare at the print on his jersey instead. “I’ll sleep in Suguru’s again tonight. The room is yours.”

There’s a lump in your throat and you feel like you’re about to cry. “Okay.”

He reaches into his shorts pocket and gives you a room card. “Here’s the spare. I don’t need to come grab my stuff for the night, so don’t worry.”

“Okay.”

He sounds like he wants to say more, and you see him take a small step towards you, hand reaching out for you, but this time Coach Yaga’s stern voice is calling out to him too. He sighs. “Good night.”

“Mhm. Thanks.”

He hesitates before he turns on his heel and you watch his back, with that signature #10 stretched across the fabric of his uniforn, as he jogs through the hotel lobby to his teammates.

The walk back to the hotel room is depressing, and you find yourself dragging your feet all the way there. Once you make your way inside, you look around at the room and see some of Gojo’s belongings scattered around, but it didn’t seem like there were any of his essentials. You look down at the spare key card in your hand–a promise from him that he won’t try to upset you anymore tonight–and that lump in your throat from earlier comes back.

You hated fighting with him. You hated being away from him. Those feelings that you thought would go away just as fast as they came still sat so stubbornly within your heart, and it was becoming impossible to bear.

You wonder if meeting him was all just some horrible, twisted mistake.

Before you have time to dwell on that sad sentiment, your phone screen lights up with a message.

|| 7:52pm unknown number: kinda sucks you’re not here with us. was looking forward to showing you more of my camera

|| 7:53pm unknown number: this is kai by the way

The features of your face feel heavy as you look down at your phone screen. You don’t even notice your eyes are teary until you realize the blur of your vision makes it hard to see the letters as you type out a response.

You just wanted a distraction from all this pain.

|| 7:54pm you: can you send me the address? i wanna be there

a/n. grrrr i love a one-bed trope so much grrrrrrrrr it's gonna do it for me every damn time lol. thanks a bunch for reading!! there's still so much that i've got planned for the series haha i think the second half is gonna be a lot crazier than the first. super excited to write it though. by the way! i'm starting a choso x reader zombie au series, if you'd like to read more about it and/or be added to the taglist, you can reply to this post here also if you want to be added to taglist in general, i'd recommend making sure your tags are on!! since i've noticed a lot of people have them off

➸ take me to chapter nine!

taglist: @who-can-touch-my-boob @therealestpussyeater @lost-resonance @hojoslutoru @foulprincesscycle @luniunia @alekssashka7 @bsdicinindirdim @tsukikourito @getitsatoru @slut-4-gojo @cactisjuice @kissofife @tiredflame132 @cliosunshine @ethereally-lyann @btszn @prince-wyiilder @semra4 @gojosimp26 @drthymby @ninitoru @bbyxxm @fvsm4x @sadmonke @zoinks1010 @bakuhoethotski @horisdope @sykostyles @aquaberrydolphin @colouringfrogssittinginleaves @ri-sa20 @purplehallow11 @mwtsxri @ritsatoru @bxddiebloss @chwesuh-imnida @mo0nforme @viware @still-fking-single @megumisthirdog @gintokhi @karvokr @cierocanteat @imjustaweirdnerd (hope i didn't miss anyone thank u all sm!!)

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jobean12-blog · 4 months

Text

Next Door to Love

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x female reader (Neighbor AU)

Word Count: 3,188

Summary: When you made the move to the city you never expected your new neighbor to be so sweet and helpful...or hot.

Author's Note: Because why not! Moving in across the hall from Bucky would be a dream, one I'd like to live out please and ty haha! Thank you all so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by the lovely @firefly-graphics thank you Daisy!🥰

Warnings: fun and flirty, teasing and tension, a curse or two or three, Bucky is impatient and cocky in the best way!

Last week

Your tired, fuzzy slipper clad feet drag along the floor as you trudge toward the door across the hall. You’re hoping someone is home. Someone who has sugar. Anyone.

You let out a quick exhale and lift your chin before rapping your knuckles against the wood. A frown starts to mar your forehead when you hear a sleepy mumble come from inside the apartment.

Shit, fuck, shit you woke him up. It’s a guy. Of course it is…because you don’t look like you just rolled off your mattress that still has no bedframe and tripped over twenty-five unopened boxes…etc, etc.

The door swings open revealing said guy…a hot-as-fuck guy. Naked, except for his unbuttoned jeans.

Oh hi neighbor.

Before you can stop it, your gaze instantly drops to the dark trail of hair below his bellybutton, framed by a set of abs that you could dry your laundry on.

You reel yourself in and lift your eyes to his which does nothing to help your declining focus. His hair is perfectly mussed from sleep, his chiseled jaw shadowed with dark stubble and his incredible blue eyes lined by dark lashes.

His hands are planted on either side of the door frame and with every passing second you’re mesmerized by flexing muscles in his chest and arms.

He drags a lazy hand through his unkept hair and smiles. Knowingly. Smugly.

“Can I help you doll?”

“Um…hi. I’m sorry if I woke you…it’s just…I moved in yesterday and haven’t gone shopping yet and I have no sugar. I need my coffee.”

“So you’re my new neighbor,” he croons. “Lucky me.”

You audibly swallow and hold up your coffee cup pleadingly.

“I’ll take care of ya doll.”

With a wink he holds up one long finger.

“Come on in and make yourself comfortable. I’ll be right back with that sugar.”

He spins on his heel and walks toward what you’re guessing is the kitchen and it should be considering your apartments are mirror images of each other.

You step inside and stand by the door to wait. You hear him rummaging around and then hear a crash followed by grumbled curses.

Before you can react the cutest white cat saunters out of the kitchen, looking quite proud with his fluffy tail held high and blue eyes unblinking.

“That’s Alpine,” he yells from the other room. “Don’t let his cuteness fool you. He’s a menace!”

You let your laughter ring out and then kneel down to give Alpine some scratches. The cat instantly warms up to you and presses himself against your leg, purring loudly.

“Ah, of course he likes you.”

You look up at the sound of your neighbors voice and reluctantly give up petting Alpine to take the offering of sugar.

“Thank you….?”

“Bucky,” he finishes for you. “Name’s Bucky.”

“Thanks Bucky,” you say with a smile and then introduce yourself.

You look back down at the cat that is now circling between Bucky’s bare feet. “And Alpine really is cute. I can’t imagine he’s a menace.”

“Just wait until you get to know him,” Bucky says. “Can I get you anything else doll?”

“No. Thank you and again I’m sorry if I woke you.”

“No problem at all. I had a late night at the office and I was just being lazy. If you need anything else just come by. Anytime.”

His lips turn up in a boyish grin and he winks again.

You can feel his eyes on you as you turn and walk out into the hall and toward your apartment. Just as you push your door open you look over your shoulder and catch him staring, his teeth dug deep into his bottom lip.

The knock at your door startles you from your unpacking trance and from your spot on the floor, surrounded by open boxes and a mess of things, you ask, “who is it?”

“It’s Bucky…and I have food.”

Your smile is impossible to hide and you shout back, “come in!”

Bucky appears in the doorway with a pizza box.

“Hiya doll face,” he chimes. “I figured you’d need some fuel.”

You drag yourself out of the mess on the floor and hop up onto the edge of the counter.

“Thanks Bucky. I really appreciate it, but you’re spoiling me. What is it now…the third time this week you’re feeding me?”

He hands you a slice and then stands there, watching while you take a bite.

“And why not? You need to eat and I love to eat, might as well do it together!”

You laugh through your bite. “Then what motivated you to help with my furniture?”

He shrugs and grabs a slice of pizza, shoving half into his mouth before he answers.

“Perfect opportunity to show off my muscles.”

He waggles his brows suggestively and flexes a bicep.

“Double win for me,” you admit, licking your lips. “How will I ever repay you.”

He remains quiet for several moments while he studies you then asks, “how about a real dinner?”

“Pizza is the realest dinner there is!” you state with a mouthful.

“Let me take you out. For something other than pizza.”

“Are you asking me on a date?”

“Would you say yes if I were?”

Your legs swing back and forth at the knee as you finish your bite and then place your slice of pizza down. You reach over the box and grab the marker you left out on the counter, placing it between your lips.

Watching him from under your lashes, you take his arm and roll up the sleeve of his Henley and when your fingertips make contact with the sensitive skin on his underside of his forearm you can feel his muscles tighten.

Your mouth curves around the marker at his reaction and you pluck it from between your lips and start writing on his skin.

“Now you’ve got my number. Text me and we’ll pick a date for our date.”

“Thank you,” he says, leaning in close and dropping his eyes to your mouth.

Your lips part with your small gasp of air and when his thumb lifts to brush along the corner of your mouth you let out a rush of air.

“Sauce,” he states before he licks his finger clean, his gaze locked on yours.

You nod as he steps back and pulls out his phone to dial your number on his arm. Your phone rings and he says, “and now you’ve got mine.”

You spend the rest of your weekend unpacking and doing errands, running into Bucky only once in a frantic rush of laundry. He offers to help but you know if you let him you’ll become distracted and never get anything done. The two of you text back and forth, deciding on Saturday for your official date. No pizza involved.

The next morning you get another text from him.

“Morning doll face. Don’t forget an umbrella. Gonna rain later today.”

“Are you the weather man now?” you message back, smiling at your phone.

“Nah. Just a friendly neighbor.”

“Did you tell everyone in the building about the rain and remind them to bring an umbrella.”

“Just you…”

“Thanks, but I’m already half way to work sans umbrella.”

“Damn it. I knew I should have texted earlier. Now if you get caught in the rain it’ll be all my fault.”

“Hardly! I should have checked the weather. Can’t rely on you for everything can I?”

He sends a wink face.

“Is it Saturday yet?”

“Still only Monday morning. What’s Saturday?”

“Don’t tease me doll. I’ve been looking forward to this date since you showed up at my door lookin’ for sugar.”

“Have a good day Bucky.”

“You too doll…stay dry.”

You’re only two blocks from your apartment building when the sky opens up and the rain comes down in buckets. By the time you reach the doors you’re soaked through and cursing at yourself for forgetting an umbrella.

The door attendant lets you in with a sympathetic smile and as you’re sloshing past him and toward the elevator you hear Bucky’s voice.

“Oh doll. Look at you.”

He tugs his mail from the box and slams it shut, rushing toward you and taking your arm.

“Soaked,” you say sadly.

“I can see that,” he muses with a twitch of his perfect lips. “Come on, let’s get you upstairs and dry.”

The elevator doors open and you step inside with a shiver. He immediately starts to pull your jacket from your shoulders.

“What are you doing?” you ask without stopping him.

“You have to get out of this jacket. I’m sure your shirt is….”

He stops speaking when his eyes catch sight of your white button down, soaked through so that you can see the lace of your bra outlined against the fabric.

“Fuck,” he mutters, dragging his eyes back to your face. “Here.”

He shrugs off his damp jacket and then takes off his suit jacket and drapes it over your shoulders.

“But it’ll get all wet,” you protest.

“Don’t care. You can’t walk out of the elevator like that.”

His jaw is set in a hard line as his fingers work over the scruff that lines it. The elevator dings at your floor and he takes your hand, leading you out and checking the hallway.

“Why are you looking around like that?” you ask.

He turns back to you and tugs you closer. “I don’t wanna anyone seeing you.”

“Why not?”

“Because then I’ll have to kill them,” he states.

“Someone is acting a little jealous,” you giggle.

“Yeah well…we haven’t even had our first date yet. Can’t have someone looking at what’s about to be mine.”

“Yours,” you breathe out, not even realizing you’re now standing in front of your apartment door.

With shaky fingers you start to remove his suit jacket but before you can he stops you with a hand on your wrist.

“Don’t doll. Just keep it for now.”

“But we’re at the door. I’ll be fine.”

“Yeah, but if you take that off then I have to see you in your wet shirt again. And I’m not sure I’ll be able to control myself if I do.”

“Control yourself how?” you ask in a breathy whisper.

He responds with a pained groan before his mouth meets yours and he has you pressed against the door.

Even though your shirt is soaked through and your skin is cold you can feel the warmth of his body seep into yours. You wrap your arms around his neck to steady yourself and he lifts one hand to cup the back of your neck, tilting your head and deepening the kiss.

Your scrape your nails along his broad shoulders and he moans out your name.

“Fuck, I love having your hands on me.”

The desperation in his voice has you arching into him and you drop your head against the door, giving him access to trail his lips down your neck. Your fingers slide into his hair and tug at the soft strands. He growls into your skin and scrapes his teeth over your pulse point making you gasp his name.

“Oh I like that,” you whisper.

He does it again.

“You’re going to like everything I do to you doll face.”

His lips graze yours and he swallows your whimper, crowding you closer to the door before muttering out a curse and letting you both take a breath.

“Is it Saturday yet?” he asks, still breathless.

“Still Monday,” you answer, feeling just the same.

“Right,” he says, planting his hands on the door above your head and dropping his head forward.

A door down the hall opens and he pauses, straightening his body to hide your own. You both smile at the older lady who walks by with a questioning look.

When Bucky’s eyes return to you they drop to where he spread his jacket open to put his hands on you, your shirt sticking to your wet skin even more now.

He stares before reluctantly dragging his eyes up and taking the sides of the material and pulling them tightly around you.

You tremble.

“Still cold?” he asks, his eyes soft with worry.

“Hardly,” you answer and lean up to kiss the corner of his mouth.

“See you later Bucky.”

“I’m counting on it doll.”

You spend the rest of the week juggling your time between work, texting Bucky and sleeping. You’ve only seen him once since Monday evening and that was for five minutes when he caught you coming home again but this time he had his friend Steve with him and there was no chance for any kissing.

Saturday morning rolls around and you wake up to a text from him.

“It is finally Saturday or am I dreaming?”

“It’s really Saturday!”

“Thank fuck! Can we start our date now?”

“No…I have to do girly things and prepare.”

“What kinds of things….?”

“I’ll see you tonight Buck.”

You can almost hear his groan through the phone.

“I’ll be at your door at 7 sharp.”

Bucky knocks on your apartment door at exactly the same time your phone clock hits 7:00pm. You grin at your best friend Nat before she gets up and walks toward the door.

“Oh girl. He’s hot!” a muffled voice says from the other side.

It isn’t yours so Bucky assumes it’s your friend.

“He’s at least a nine.”

Bucky scoffs, muttering, “a nine?” quietly to himself.

“Hey, I can hear you in there. Are you gonna open the door?” he asks the unknown voice.

The door swings open to reveal a red head who looks him over with two scrutinizing green eyes.

“Hi,” he smiles, holding out his hand. “I’m Bu…”

“Bucky,” she finishes. “I know who you are…question is…do you know who I am?”

“You must be Natasha,” Bucky answers with a smug smile.

“That’s right and I’m a black belt in jiu jitsu so you do anything I don’t like and I will end you.”

Bucky’s eyes light up and he watches Nat as she moves toward the kitchen.

“You almost ready doll face,” he yells, not taking his eyes off Nat in case she goes for a knife.

“I’m right here,” you say.

Bucky turns to find you standing right in front of him. His mouth drops open as his eyes sweep you up and down.

“This is where you say she looks amazing,” Nat admonishes from the kitchen, dangerously close to the knife rack.

However, Bucky’s eyes never leave you and when he steps into your space and wraps you in his arms, pulling you into his chest, you let out a squeal of delight.

“You look fucking gorgeous,” he says, loud enough for Nat to hear, then whispers, only for your ears, “I want to rip this dress off you.”

Your lips spread into a sly smile. “We made the right choice Nat.”

“Of course we did,” she chimes. “Now go. I’ll lock up.”

“I’m so ready,” he says, ushering you toward the door, but not before turning to Nat, still in the kitchen eyeing him warily, and asking, “I’m good with a nine, but just out of curiosity, what did I lose a point for?”

“You’re really gonna make me say it in front of you?” Nat asks.

“I wanna hear it too Nat,” you say, raising an expectant and skeptical brow.

“You didn’t shave.”

He runs the free hand, the one not wrapped around your waist, over his jaw.

“I didn’t get any complaints earlier this week,” Bucky says, eyes now sparkling with mischief.

“He’s right Nat,” you add. “I like it.”

Nat rolls her eyes and shoos you away.

Once you’re safely in the elevator and away from prying eyes Bucky invades your space, plastering you against the cool metal wall and caging you there with his large body.

“It almost killed me to not be kissing you for the past five minutes,” he says against your lips.

When you press into him and slide your body along his it sucks the breath right out of his lungs and fills them with something else. Need.

The kiss pulls a throaty groan from him and his belt buckle digs into your skin, the muscles hidden beneath his clothes, pressing and flexing over the thin material of your dress.

The elevator door dings and begins to slide open, causing you to give his chest a gentle shove.

“You’re trying to kill me, aren’t you?” he asks as he lifts a finger and traces your swollen lips.

“That would suck,” you reply. “I kind of like having you as a neighbor.”

After a delicious dinner at a roof top restaurant down town, Bucky walks you along the street, hand in hand, as you listen and laugh to his childhood stories about growing up in Brooklyn.

“Where are we going now?” you ask.

“It’s a surprise,” he says as he twirls you into his side and presses his fingers under your chin to steal a kiss.

As you get closer to your destination the bright lights sparkle and the smell of the ocean is carried on the warm breeze.

“Which bridge is that?” you ask with awe.

“The Brooklyn Bridge,” he tells you and grabs your hand to pull you along. “Come on. I have something to show you.”

When you reach the top of the look out he slides an arm around your waist and pulls your back to his chest.

“This is so beautiful Bucky,” you whisper.

He kisses your cheek and takes your chin between his fingers, turning your face up to his. “I always thought it was the most beautiful thing in the city…but not anymore.”

You’re thankful for his strong arms holding you up and after a sweet kiss you enjoy the view in comfortable silence for a few more minutes but his hands start to wander, soft and sure, and with each passing touch your body aches for more.

His warm breath fans across your neck and his arm moves lower until his hand grasps your hip and he pulls you back to feel the hardness between his legs.

You suck in a breath and fight the urge to move against him.

With a curse he pulls away and grabs your hand, dragging you toward the park under the bridge. The only lights come from the lit-up buildings across the street and when he finds a hidden spot he backs you against the cold stone but you’re too hot to care.

“Bucky,” you whisper as your hands roam over his broad chest.

His mouth brushes yours before he gently nips at your bottom lip.

“I can’t even keep my fucking hands off you long enough to bring you home,” he murmurs.

His fingers find the hem of your dress and he slides them under, slowly teasing the fabric higher until his hand brushes over the wetness on your panties.

“Please, Bucky,” you pant.

“Fuck, I love hearing you say my name like that,” he growls. “I need to get you home so I can hear you scream it for me.”

@hiddles-rose @littleseasiren @randomfandompenguin @blackwidownat2814 @goldylions @buckysdollforlife @lizette50

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x you #neighbor!bucky #bucky barnes fanfictionn #bucky barnes x y/n #neighbor!bucky barnes #neighbor au #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x female reader #sebastian stan x reader #bucky x reader #neighbor!bucky x reader

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yumeka-sxf · 6 months

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In addition to Yor's epiphany scene, this scene was the other one I was most looking forward to in season 2 - a scene that, in my opinion, is one of the most Twiyor-ish scenes in the series so far 💖

Why is it so significant? Because there was no reason for Twilight to put on any Loid Forger acting in that moment. He wasn't conversing with nor being scrutinized by anyone. So why would he give that soft smile followed by such affectionate, comforting words as "お疲れ様/otsukaresama"? (this can be translated in many ways, but generally it's something you say to thank someone for their hard work).

The answer is because it's something he truly felt...he understood the sacrifice Yor made for Anya's happiness and genuinely appreciated it (if only he knew the sacrifice she made on the larger scale, lol). While he's a bit perturbed at first since some onlookers were snickering at him, it didn't take long for him to soften and then graciously carry his queen and princess the girls back to the ship 😭

But Twilight overall was really soft in this episode and I loved it~ From his blush upon seeing Yor to the several times he gave that same soft smile when talking with/looking at her...I think Anya was right when she called him out on the ship about missing his wife 😅

I liked how the anime conveyed his shock when noticing her bruised face...what must have been his thought at that moment? 👀

The scenes of the family activities translated better in animated form in my opinion. While they were each only a single panel in the manga, they lasted a few seconds each in the anime, plus the addition of the insert song helped the with the comfy, wholesome vibe~ Also the part where Yor inadvertently chucks Anya across the ocean is still hilarious.

Loid's dorky skip at the beginning of the episode translated very well in animated form too 😅

The ending of this chapter in the manga always felt a bit rushed to me...it quickly jumps from the aforementioned scene of them returning to the ship, to suddenly being home, reuniting with Bond and Franky, having a meal together, then Twilight meeting Sylvia, all within a few panels. Even though I wish the anime added more than just some additional scenes of the ship leaving the island, I felt it flowed much better in the anime since, just like the family activities, each scene in the ending lasted a second or two instead of being a single illustration.

But I love how this chapter/episode ends, with Yor, Anya, and Bond napping while Anya draws about her family vacation. This seems to take place the next day or maybe later the same day they got home, so makes sense they'd still be tired from the trip!

By the way, the manga has this additional scene showing that Olka and company are safe. Weird that the anime didn't stick it in at some point.

Also, the anime team didn't have to go so hard with this episode's key visual but they did...and I love it 😍 Might actually be my favorite of the key visuals so far!

I was very happy to see the "surrounded by liars" panel finally animated! This is such a funny scene and a great way to fully wrap up the cruise arc.

I also burst out laughing at Yuri's locker 🤣

Damian is surprisingly laid back in this episode. I think the reason is because Anya's antics aren't directly involving him. He tends to go total tsundere only when she's actually talking to him, lol.

The new scene of Yor getting the keychains for her coworkers was a nice addition! Guess it's canon that Yor and Anya didn't sleep for the entire trip back, lol. Glad they got to spend family time on the ship too! (though I wish we could have seen Yor's reaction waking up in Loid's bottom bunk bed, haha. He must have brought her to his room since he wouldn't know where her room is. Unless she woke up before he even put her in a bed, in which case she would have been super embarrassed knowing he was carrying her around in public 😆)

Looks like next week the anime will be changing the order of things a bit and giving us the Becky home-wrecking and Fiona chapters (the latter of which seems to have some anime original content?) The Becky chapter is one of my favorite stand-alone chapters...I'm already dying of laugher thinking about it 😂

#spy family #spy x family #sxf #spyxfamily #loid forger #yor forger #anya forger #twiyor #sxf anime #becky blackbell #yuri briar

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leonstoenailunderhisbed · 3 months

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My baby, my baby…

Summary: Leon is a man pushing 40 and you’re a girl in her early 20s. You confessed your feelings but things went south.

Warning: age gap. literally any older version of Leon. reader is young. female reader. haha guess what? it’s sad again.

a/n: I love mitski <3 still mad I didn’t go to her concert. Guys I love writing, I feel like I’m god waiting for shit to happen. TEEHEE.🤭 also, should I make a part two with smut?

(pt.1) (pt.2)

“You're my baby, say it to me” - Mitski, I Bet On Losing Dogs

You hated him. Well not really. You just hated the way he made you feel when you two were in the same room. Your heart beat faster and you felt your face grow hot. You had butterflies in your stomach every time he did something. And you felt stupid because he’s a man twice your age.

You did what you always think is best, avoid him. To which you failed miserably. You both worked on the same team on the DSO, of course you were bound to be next to him. It was as if the universe was mocking you. You couldn’t help but feel guilty. This man, poor innocent man, probably doesn’t know that he has someone so much younger after him. He must be worried about missions and not dying, while you were here crushing over him.

It didn’t help the way he would talk to you, distant but polite. He didn’t hate you, he just thought you were too young to experience such a miserable life the DSO puts on its agents. He wants you to live life. To be a normal girl in her early 20s. He wanted you to have the life he wished he had. He wished you would live your 21st year way differently than when he was 21.

But those thoughts remained unspoken. Neither of you actually spoke about anything besides work and missions. You tried to find excuses to talk to him but he would just stare at you in silence as you talked. He wasn’t mad, he just stood there. (Like this lol🧍‍♂️)

Professional and polite conversations turned into jokes. One time, during a meeting, you were sitting next to Leon and the poor man looked like he didn’t get an ounce of sleep. Chris was talking about some mission in Antarctica and Leon couldn’t help but grumble a stupid joke about all the penguin shit roaming around. It was such a stupid joke but you laughed. When Leon heard you laugh, he turned his head your direction and stared at you with a raised brow. He smirked to himself and laughed a little bit. It was funny to both of you.

From that moment, he became more warm towards you. When he saw you, he would nod at him. And you being you, a delusional lover, gushed about how much he is in love with you.

You managed to break the ice exterior he had because he would look at you with soft eyes every time you got near him.

But things changed when you confessed your feelings to him. The softness in his eyes disappeared and he looked at you with the same distant look he had. “I’m too old for you, y/n…” He spoke with a quiet but firm tone. The two of you were currently alone in some room inside the DSO building. You thought this was the perfect time to let your feelings out.

He took a step towards you and stood in front of you, “You should focus on someone your age, sweetheart,” He mumbled as he brought his hand to your face and brushed some strands of hair behind your ear. He then ran his hand down your cheek with a gentle touch. You couldn’t help but lean into it. His thumb gently grazes against your bottom lip as he ran his fingers around your side of your face.

You were upset, you wanted him despite the age gap. “Please… I only want you,” you whispered and leaned into the palm of his hand.

Leon stared at you and then sighed as he brought his hand down your chin to lift it up more. He wanted to see those beautiful eyes of yours, even if they began to show how sad you were. “It’s wrong for me to have you,” he whispered gently as he examines your face.

You felt your eyes become full of emotion, “It’s not fair…” your voice came out strained and barely audible, it was a miracle Leon still understood you.

"I know." Leon sighed, unable to keep himself from looking you with a soft look. You were his soft spot after all, "Trust me; nothing would please me more than to be with you..."

“Then let me have this one chance…please?” You begged with pleading eyes. "I shouldn't," he breathed, eyes traveling down to your lips before returning to scan your face, "It wouldn't be right for me to take advantage of you..."

“I want you to take advantage of me, to use me… I just want to be yours,” you whispered as your eyes shifted down to his lips and then back to his eyes.

"You're sure about this?" His breathing quickened as his eyelids drew heavy, his gaze locked onto the soft curve of your lips. You nodded, “I wouldn’t be asking you if I wasn’t sure,” you whispered as your hand intertwined with his.

He squeezed your hand, and with a slight shrug of his shoulders, he leaned down until your faces were just mere inches apart.

He breathed slowly, eyes scanning your gaze, "Promise me one thing..."

You stared at his eyes and nodded, “yeah?”

"Promise me..." He breathed out slowly, allowing himself to lean in closer to you until his breathing was near whisper. "...That you will not regret this.”

“I won’t,” you whispered as you closed your eyes and felt Leon's lips finally make contact with yours, kissing for the very first time. It was a gentle, tender caress that made your cheeks flush with color, his broad hands gently resting on your hips while the tips of his fingers grazed the skin of your waist. You brought your hands to his broad shoulders and rested them there. You felt your knees grow weak from the gentleness of the kiss. His lips felt so soft against yours, he tasted the flavor of your chapstick and he couldn’t help but love it even more.

He sighed against your lips as the gentleness of the kiss began to build into something more passionate. His lips pressed against yours firmly, a hand cupping your chin to keep your face closer. His lips parted slowly, urging your lips to part as well. When you felt his lips part and his tongue press on your bottom lip, you gasped and he dived his tongue right into your mouth. His tongue finally danced against your tongue, inviting a response back from you. Your grip on his shoulders increased ever so slightly as you moaned in the kiss, sending the vibrations to his tongue as both your tongues danced passionately.

He moaned softly in response, his hands sliding around to your back once more holding you as close to him as he could. His tongue continued to swirl around your mouth, gently sucking at your bottom lip. His hold on you was strong and firm, a silent command to stay pressed against him. His hold on you only grew stronger as he kept you pressed up against his body. A hand ran through your hair, keeping your head held in place. His tongue and lips continued the dance of teasing and pleasing, your own lips responding in kind. The passion built within his embrace, his breath growing labored and his heart beating rapidly against his chest. It felt so surreal.

You moved your hands down to his chest and gently pulled back to catch your breath. You panted as you tried to breathe and remain focused. Your brain felt mushy from how good the kiss was. You finally got the chance to taste his lips.

His lips parted from yours, and he breathed out slowly, his breathing rapid and throat parched. His hand slid to your lower back as he kept you pressed close to him. He brushed a few stray strands of hair from your face, then gently tucked it back behind your ear. "Are you ok?" He whispered, voice still strained, but his body relaxing slightly.

You nodded and breathed out a small “yes,”

Leon let his grip on you loosen slightly, allowing a small distance to form between the two of you. He brushed the side of your face, and his hand moved to grasp yours.

"Good," He whispered slowly, his gaze falling to your lips, "So very good..." he sighed and let his hand slid back down your back before letting go, "Forgive me if I got a little carried away..." He took in a deep breath, his voice now returning to a normal tone, "I've wanted to do that for a very long time..."

You eyes nestled bulged out of their sockets after he said that, “You did?” You asked softly in disbelief.

He nodded slowly, his gaze flicking between yours, “Yes. Ever since the moment we first met, I was attracted to you, even though I knew it was wrong. I wanted you, wanted to hold you close, kiss you, and make you mine…” his eyes growing distant, "I've wanted you..." He took a deep breath, then gently caressed your chin with a hand, his lips gently grazing your forehead.

You closed your eyes and felt the softness of his lips plant a kiss on your forehead. A gesture so gentle and soft it could bring anyone to their knees.

He breathed out slowly, closing his eyes for a second before opening them to peek at you through his lids. He raised a brow and sighed, adjusting the hold on your chin to gently tip your head up.

"But as I said, I'm too old for you," he brushed his fingers across your jawline, "And I fear that our relationship would be met with judgment and ridicule..." he looked at you with saddened eyes. He wished he could kiss you anytime, to be with you in public and not have to worry about the judgment. In his eyes, you were the most beautiful woman to ever step foot on earth. It was sad, really. How much love he had for you but he hid it for your sake. He loves you so much he didn’t want you to get hurt.

You furrowed your brows together and looked at him with those sad eyes of yours. But his heart ached the most with the strain of your voice, “I don’t care what anyone says…”

"But you should," he replied softly, "You're still young... You should find someone closer to your age,” he caressed your cheek once again as he looked into your eyes "What about your family?" He sighed, "What if your parents disagree with us? They'd say that I'm taking advantage of you and manipulating you because you're young..."

“Leon, please, I’m an adult. I can make my own choices…” you whispered with a sad tone, “I don’t care if you’re 20 years older than me. I want you… dare I say I love you…”

Leon fell silent as your words sank into him. He froze in place, for a few moments, he was speechless, his facial expressions shifting through multiple emotions.

"Love me?" He whispered, leaning down towards you, "Y/n… you don’t love me. You love the idea of me you have in your head.” He whispered softly as he caressed your cheek once again. His voice so soft and tender and full of sadness.

Your throat was caught up into a knot. Did you screw things over already? Or were they already screwed up before this began?

You bit your bottom lip to contain the threatening tears that were about to spill. He saw this and gently brought his thumb over to the corner of your eyes and wiped them for you.

“I love you…” you nodded and felt your eyes get glossy, “I love you, Leon…” you whispered, “This feeling I have… it’s controlling me. I can’t breathe when I’m not with you. I need you…”

“Don’t cry, angel,” he whispered as he kissed your forehead again and gave you a sad smile. “How do you know this is not just infatuation?”

You stared into his blue eyes deeply, “Because I’ve never felt this way towards anyone before..”

His eyes were locked onto yours, a million thoughts running through his head. As much as he wanted to be with you, this was never meant to happen. You’re way too young. You needed someone else, someone better than him. He sighed and looked out the window. What was once a sunny day became a rainy one. He looked back down at you.

"Go home, y/n…" he whispered.

He let go of your face and took a step back. You watched him go with sad eyes, you wanted to chase after him so badly but you felt frozen in place. It was bittersweet. You got the kiss you wanted but at the cost of him leaving you.

You sniffled and cried silently as you walked out of the building and to the bus stop. You put on your headphones and began to listen to some music while you watched the raindrops race down the window.

Leon watched you from the second floor window. He felt a pang of guilt in his heart. He knew you’d cry but he couldn’t let you get too attached to someone like him. He was broken, never meant to be fixed again. While you were everything. In another universe, maybe the two of you could’ve been together.

#leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x y/n #leon kennedy x you #leon s kennedy #leon s kennedy x reader #leon scott kennedy #resident evil #id leon kennedy #leon kennedy angst #di leon #light angst #resident evil angst #resident evil fic #re4r leon #re4 leon #fanfic

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sinnersweets · 3 months

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Cream Pie

DogDay x Reader (lemon)

Includes characters from my story so I recommend reading that first before reading this (pinned post)

Minors DNI!!

A/N: You asked for this

“Damian! Sarahs here!” “Coming!” I could hear Damian running around upstairs. Once a week Damian would stay over at Sarahs house and spend the night there, leaving me and DogDay to have some alone time. Though I will admit that every time he left my heart ached for him, he was my little kiddo. Damian came down the stairs with his backpack on and in his left arm was his plushie of his dad. “All ready kiddo?” “Yep!” I grabbed onto his hand and led him outside towards Sarahs car. Before he entered the car, I gave him a kiss on his forehead and hugged him. “You be good now.” “I will mom.” “I love you.” “I love you too mom and tell dad I love him also.” I let go of him and opened the door for him. “I will.” I waved goodbye as Sarah drove off.

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

I was in the kitchen when I heard the front door open. “Angel! I’m home!” “I’m in the kitchen!” I could hear the front door close and soon heard DogDay come into the kitchen. “Where’s our little boy at?” “He already left for Sarahs.” I said while finishing up some dishes. “Aw, I was hoping I’d be here in time to see him off.” I could hear him put some bags onto the counter before he walked over to me and wrapped his arms around my waist.

“Angel~” I smiled and said, “Yes?” “It’s our time now.” He placed a kiss on top of my head while squeezing me. “I know. I’m almost done with these dishes and then-” I stopped talking as DogDay moved his hands down and started to unbutton my pants. My heart started racing. “Let’s play a game Angel. I’m going to touch you and you try to finish the dishes, okay?” DogDay then unzipped my pants and placed his hand outside of my underwear.

My breathing got slightly heavier. “O-okay.” Already my voice was shaky. I knew there was no way I would be able to finish the dishes if he was going to touch me, but it sounded exciting. Once I started washing dishes again is when DogDay started to move his fingers in a circular motion down there. “Already wet are we~” DogDay then bent down and whispered, “Naughty Angel~” while nibbling on my ear.

The way my body was feeling right now was indescribable. I bit down on my bottom lip and did my best to wash dishes. He stayed in the same spot for a few seconds before pulling on the side of my underwear and moving it out of his way. “Doing good Angel. But I promise you won’t be able to focus here in a few seconds~” As I now got a better feeling of him rubbing in between my folds I let out a soft moan. DogDay chuckled as he moved from my ear and onto my neck, kissing lightly and sucking on it.

I was holding onto a wine cup and couldn’t continue rinsing it. Without a warning DogDay placed two fingers inside of me and started moving them in and out of me at a steady pace. My legs started shaking and I arched my back and placed my head on his chest. “Ah~” DogDay got rougher with my neck and started biting down a little hard, but not enough to hurt me.

With one arm I wrapped it around his neck, digging my nails into his shoulder and with the other, clutching onto the cup. DogDay started moaning which only turned me on even more. As his movements got faster and faster, I started squeezing the cup in my hand a little too tight and next thing you know, I snapped it in half.

Me and DogDay looked down at the sink and both sighed when we saw that I didn’t cut myself. “Haha, guess my Angel was enjoying herself.” He took his fingers out of me and picked me up. I wrapped my legs around him as he carried me up to our bedroom. “I hope you know Angel that once we reach our room my lips will be all over your body.” “Can’t wait~”

Once we entered our room, he pushed me up against the wall and started kissing me passionately. I returned the kiss and moved my tongue against his lips asking for entry. Of course, he allowed my tongue inside his mouth and both our tongues became intertwined with one another. Both our breathing grew harder and so did the kiss.

While still kissing each other he moved us onto the bed. Without looking I untied his sun pendant. DogDay placed it onto the nightstand and then started to raise my shirt up over my head. We broke away from the kiss, our saliva connected to each other's tongue. “You look absolutely sexy without a shirt on Angel. My god how I cannot get enough of your body.” “And you are just so fucking hot; with and without your pendant.”

As DogDay looked down at me with my bra on he got this look in his eyes. “You know what Angel? I’ve suddenly become hungry.” That threw me off. “Oh? Um what did you want?” “You.” DogDay grabbed both of my wrists and moved them above my head. He reached over for his pendant and tied my wrists together with it. Oh fuck was this about to get intense.

My chest moved up and down a little fast. I wasn’t expecting this at all! DogDay started kissing my neck and then slowly moved down my body. I couldn’t help but moan as his kisses felt so good on my body. Once DogDay kissed under my belly button he started moving my pants and underwear off of me.

He tossed them onto the floor and licked his lips. “Ready Angel?” I nodded my head and closed my eyes, not knowing what to expect. He lowered his head in between my thighs and kissed the sides of them before moving into the center. There he kissed up and down my area before he started moving his tongue and eating me out. “Ah fuck~” I pulled on the restraints, needing to grab onto something.

Within minutes my legs started shaking and I could feel a knot form in my stomach. “DogDay I’m-ah~” I couldn’t talk. He was eating me out good. So good in fact that he raised himself up, somehow getting deeper with the kiss. I draped my legs over his shoulders. This new angle was so good that I soon released and the knot in my stomach disappeared. “Holy fuck.” I was breathing hard. DogDay licked up what came out of me and gently lowered my body back onto the bed. “Delicious.” DogDay then lowered himself to my ear and said, “Now for my favorite part~” Ah yes ‘doggy style.’ I smiled and while still being restrained I managed to flip myself over. “Say goodbye to your legs Angel, because I’m going to pound into you so hard you’re going to need me to carry you everywhere after this~”

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

“How was school today kiddo?” DogDay asked Damian as we all sat together for dinner. “It was really fun! It was field day and we got to play all these games, and then for lunch we had sandwiches, and they even gave us some cream pies to smash into the teacher's face. Most of them weren’t a fan of the taste.” “You know I had some cream pie the other day and it was delicious.” I covered my mouth so as not to spit out my drink. Damian looked at me with a confused look but then looked back to DogDay. “Really? When?” DogDay looked at me and smiled before saying, “When you went over to Sarahs house.” I could feel my face heat up. I know Damain has no clue what his dad really means but still! “Mom why didn’t you save me any? You know I love your pies.” “Yeah Angel.” DogDay laughed as he spoke. “Well, you see- um your dad was just very hungry that day and ate the whole thing, haha....” DogDay busted out laughing and Damian looked so confused. I looked over at DogDay and gave him a look that said, ‘I am going to kill you’ but he just stuck his tongue out at me.

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

“Hello my beautiful Angel.” DogDay said as he came down the stairs. “Hello my love.” It was coming close to mine and DogDays anniversary, and I was going to get him back for the little stunt he pulled in front of Damian. In my hand was a bag and I walked over to DogDay before he finished coming down the stairs. “When you go out today I need you to return this, it’s what I was going to wear for our anniversary.” DogDay took the bag from my hands and reached into the bag to see what it was. He pulled out the only item in the bag. “Nothing in here but lipstick.” I couldn’t help but grin as it took him a while to understand what I had meant. Once he realized his ears perked up and he looked at me with his jaw slightly open. I walked up a few steps to get eye level with him and said, “Suffer~”

#sinnersweets #poppy playtime #x reader #dogday #dogday x reader #poppy playtime chapter 3 #lemon #let this not be my legacy #I’m already known for one on Wattpad

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mysteryshoptls · 1 month

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SSR Ruggie Bucchi - Platinum Jacket Vignette

"Happy 100th Anniversary"

[Land of Dawning – National Museum of Art]

Ruggie: Can't believe I'm here bein' a supporter for some museum like this. Guess ya never know what life's got in store for ya.

Ruggie: I mean, I totally wouldn't've ever paid to see paintings that I can't even fill my belly with…

Ruggie: But I guess it's okay if I don't gotta pay. I wonder if they got paintings I've seen in my textbooks.

???: This painting… These are the hyenas from the King of Beast's legends. When the three of them are lined up like this it's kind of intimidating…

Ruggie: Well, yeah, they were out there patrollin' lava quarries 'n goin' out on scoutin' missions, so.

Trey: You sure know your stuff, Ruggie. I guess that would make sense for a hyena beastman to know.

Trey: But still… Both patrolling and scouting seems like painstaking work.

Ruggie: Oh, yeah. From the stories I've heard, they had some pretty tight scrapes…

Ruggie: Like there's one where while they were out chasin' some stubborn foe, they ended up runnin' off a cliff tryin' to catch 'em…

Ruggie: Which had 'em endin' up flyin' into some real prickly thickets.

Trey: If it were me, I'd probably hesitate, worried about getting hurt. Guess the hyenas who worked under the King of Beasts were just that brave.

Ruggie: Brave? Then I guess I'll take that compliment, too. 'Cause I've jumped into thorny thickets like that a buncha times!

Trey: You've jumped into the thorny thickets…? A bunch of times!? Why would you do that…?

Ruggie: Actually, did you know? In the Sunset Savanna, there's this real steep cliff that's become a bit of a tourist attraction.

Ruggie: It's the perfect place to catch the settin' sun, so a ton of tourists go up there to snap a pic, leanin' over the fences 'n everything.

Ruggie: And like, sometimes there's folk that'll get so focused on settin' up the shot, or that'll bump into others that they'll drop and lose stuff.

Trey: I'd expect they'd have to let their stuff go if they dropped it off the cliff… But how does this all tie into you talking about the thorny thickets??

Ruggie: Sheeheehee. So actually, at the bottom of that cliff, there's a huge bramble of thorny thickets.

Ruggie: It's off-limits, and it's pretty dangerous, so no one really heads down there.

Ruggie: So, that's why I'd sneak down in the dead of night, and pick up all the lost items!

Ruggie: Sometimes I'd find little wrapped pieces of candy, watches 'n accessories, and even wallets!

Ruggie: Well, it kinda depended week to week what dropped, but… That was a great way to make some quick cash.

Trey: B-But if you had gotten injured, would all that have been worth it?

Ruggie: Yeah, true. Back when I was just a kid, I could slip in 'n out pretty easily, but I had to stop when I started getting' bigger.

Ruggie: Not only was I makin' big bucks, but the cliff's environment was getting' kept clean. Felt like a win-win deal to me.

[Land of Dawning – National Museum of Art]

Ruggie: Oh, this one… It's a painting of the thunder god and his son.

Trey: Yeah, according to the legends, he came to the human world just after being born, and was raised by adoptive parents.

Ruggie: Basically, that means he was raised apart from his actual dad, right? Amazin' they actually look like they get along good.

Trey: Haha… I wonder. Do you get along with your dad, Ruggie?

Ruggie: Nah, I don't got one.

Ruggie: He left back when I was a kid, so I don't remember anythin' about him, 'n I don't know what he's up to now.

Trey: Oh… Is that so? Sorry, I didn't mean to overstep my bounds.

Ruggie: Huh, that reaction's pretty different than what I'm used to.

Ruggie: Back home, there's a ton of kids just like me, so usually they'd just shrug and go, "Oh, okay" and move on.

Trey: And I guess it doesn't sound like they're saying that just to be considerate.

Ruggie: Obviously. Because the bigger problem is not havin' the money to buy food!

Ruggie: Granny'd take care of me, but there wasn't much we could do 'bout our empty bellies…

Ruggie: When I was big enough, I'd start working together with all the kids in my little neighborhood to scrounge up some food.

Trey: Kids running around trying to gather food on their own… That's hard for me to imagine.

Ruggie: There's a buncha ways to gather up food. We'd go into town and ask for alms, or drop a line in the river.

Ruggie: We were always pretty hungry, so we'd pretty much do anything… Oh, like we had a great time once digging for potatoes.

Trey: Is digging up potatoes that exciting?

Ruggie: WELL, YEAH!

Ruggie: There's actually a type of potato that grows in my country that can get as large as 20 kilos…

Ruggie: Around the time the potato harvestin' was finishin' up, we all snuck into the fields at night…

Ruggie: And we'd pick up some stunted potatoes that were left behind, as well as dug up some other forgotten potatoes.

Ruggie: We were all up in arms to pick every single one before the sun rose!

Trey: Why'd you go at mid… Never mind, I'm not going to ask.

Ruggie: And then, this one year when I was diggin', I hit the jackpot!

Ruggie: It was a potato so huge I wouldn't've even been able to carry it with both arms! It had't've been heavier than 20 kilos～

Ruggie: Didn't think there'd be any potatoes left that huge… Maan, I really lucked out then.

Trey: 20 kilograms, huh… With something that big, I don't think there'd be much to worry about eating for a while.

Ruggie: Don'tcha think?

Ruggie: I was thinkin', like, we could dry whatever was leftover and turn it to powder to make it last a bit longer…

Ruggie: But then Granny ended up boilin' 'em, fryin' 'em, and basically makin' a ton of dishes. It was a potato party extravaganza!

Ruggie: Me and the other street kiddos were just packin' 'em away, and little by little it started to disappear…

Ruggie: In the end, I couldn't make anything to save it for later.

Trey: Ah… That's rough.

Ruggie: And I never saw a potato that huge ever again. Guess good luck like that only ever hits once in a while.

[Land of Dawning – National Museum of Art]

Trey: Woah… This painting has a real powerful presence.

Ruggie: So, this is a painting of when the Thorn Fairy transformed into a dragon to fight, huh.

Trey: She looks way stronger than what her stories say. I bet I would be no match for her.

Ruggie: Eh!? Trey-san, you lookin' to pick a fight with the Thorn Fairy? It'd be waaay better to try 'n flatter her instead

Trey: Oho, but that might be the scarier route, don't you think? You might end up in deep trouble if you were to offend the Thorn Fairy instead.

Ruggie: Sheeheehee. Oh, but I'm pretty good with that kinda stuff.

Trey: Haha, well, I guess I have to admire that pluck.

Ruggie: But man, she's really something. She's the one that caused all that lightning too, right?

Ruggie: They say it was always thunderin' and lightnin' outside her castle as a way to keep intruders out… That's a huge undertakin', huh.

Ruggie: But with all those lightning strikes, I bet the bread prices were super cheap near the Thorn Fairy's castle.

Trey: Bread? …Ohh, right! Because when lightning strikes, certain particles are released in the air that helps plants grow.

Ruggie: Huh? Wait, are ya sayin' there's actually a whole science behind the whole "bread gets cheaper whenever it thunders"!?

Trey: Oh, isn't that what you meant?

Ruggie: I was just sayin' what Granny would always say…

Ruggie: Wait, so does that sayin' mean that 'cause more wheat gets harvested, more bread can get made, and that's why it's cheaper?

Trey: Yeah. Although, with how much we've developed our fertilizers nowadays, I don't know how much lightning strikes actually play a part anymore.

Ruggie: Cooool, I had no idea. Guess you Science Club folk know your stuff.

Ruggie: I bet Granny didn't really know the meanin' behind it like you did…

Ruggie: But I bet she saw with her own eyes the change in bread prices whenever there were tons of thunder and lightning.

Ruggie: But still… Kinda weird, huh. Sheeheehee.

Trey: Weird? What is?

Ruggie: Back when I was a kid, I only ever cared 'bout food, so there's no way I woulda been interested in learnin' why the bread was cheaper.

Ruggie: But now, I heard your whole spiel, and my reaction was to think it was pretty cool. Guess I'm maturin'.

Trey: Well… Maybe it's just that you can actually afford to take the time to listen now?

Ruggie: Maybe, maybe not. 'Cause my wallet's still pretty empty…

Ruggie: Oh hey, maybe this is just me bein' able to relax my stresses away, huh!? …Maybe not, heh.

Trey: Could be, if you're enjoying your time here, at least. Oops… Look at the time.

Trey: I think I'll head out to go check on how my dormmates are doing. See you, Ruggie.

Ruggie: 'Kaay, see ya. I'm gonna keep lookin' around this area a bit longer.

Ruggie: Hm? This painting… A lion cub's just lollygaggin' with a warthog 'n a meerkat.

Ruggie: I'm wonderin' if they even know all the scary things that can happen to animals that step outta their territory, hm?

Requested by Anonymous.

#twisted wonderland #twst #ruggie bucchi #trey clover #twst ruggie #twst trey #twst translation #twst birthday

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kristinhateslife · 2 months

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Okay so last night I was having an "art style panic"? I guess you could call it that? But I was feeling really bad, so i started drawing other peoples art styles and picking points and peaces out of it!

I did this last night when I was really tired and i used a pen so the drawings may not be how i usually do my drawings haha

Ok so first up we have @emjoyzhos-ej !! I recently just found your account but you have a very cool style!!

•Your skull shape is very unique, very rectangle

•your lines are very sketchy (most people I follow have this trait in their art..)

•when you color it looks like you mayy have rook inspiration from itsxroxannex? Idk i wrote that down, maybe it's not true but I guess i thought that last night

But I love your style! Your art is so cool and I had fun trying to replicate it!

Next we have @milkybnnuy ! Omg so I really like you!! Your art is sooo good

•You draw a lot of fell, so i made the drawing of killer like how you made that one fell killer drawing

•when you color you have a very paintly-style and that's cool!!

•your skull shape reminds me of an egg (i guess thats why i said "egg head" last night)

Up in the top I wrote "I did not replicate your art properly enough," and that's true! Your art is so unique and different from what i usually drew so i had a hard time replicating it! But nonetheless, i had a fun time trying and hope you ain't disappointed lol

Btw- I really like the way you draw your fuzz on hoods!! So satisfying to look at!

And now we go onto @voidzphere !

I've followed you for a while, and you're cool to be around and I like when you post! Though i had a hard time finding the art hidden around, I still was able to replicate it (luckily i chose to draw killer for this haha)

•so I see that you usually draw/post doodles, unless i just didn't scroll down far enough haha (plz tell me if you have drawn something big i wanna see)

•I noticed you have more pointy and thicker lines

•you have a certain way you draw your Skulls, I can't really put a shape or object here to describe it

Even though I couldn't find more drawings, I still tried! I hope you like it, friend, cause u cool

Here is @cherrio-krispz ! I just started following you last night, like seriously I had to search you up just now to figure out who you were cuz I forgot, but when i saw your art I immediately recognized you

•you have a very recognizable style!

•again, i did not replicate well.

•very painty-like when color

•sketchy lines, seems like you don't do line art?

•I like ur skulls, they look like skulls

OMG I'VE BEEN WAITING TO TALK ABOUT YOU. YOU. YOUUU. @somegrumpynerd OMG YOUUUUUU. I REALLY LIKE YOUR ARTTT.

•I LIKE IT

•very cartoonish

• noticable art style

•thick lineart

I LOVE seeing posts when they come out!!! They're really really cool and make me feel so happy when I see them! Keep going because you're so cool!

@spookeri haiiii

You're here tooo

i like ur art :)))))) a LOT . Same as the last guy, I get very excited when you post. Your DTIYS were fun, and yeye... Yeah

•Very flat colors

•flat lines

•cool looking skulls

•you have an "air-brush" shading style (i guess you could call it), which isn't a bad thing! Do what you want to do! But maybe try out cell-shading? Idk you don't have to, but idk i feel like cell-shading fits your art style

Also if you look in the bottom you can see a scratched out drawing, that was my first attempt haha

You can see it in the drawing below

@wyllaztopia !! I like your art :)) you have a very noticeable style and when you post I get excited as well!

•clean lines

•you make skulls longer than how other people make their skulls in this last

•I liked replicating it

Idk what else to say ... Its just all really cool!!

And last but not the worst

My art style!

My art style is

•cool

•easy to draw

•and funny lookin'

What did i learn from this whole thing i did? That everyone has a unique style, that even if they try to change it it still stays theirs and it's still unique

I also found out that everyone, small artists and big artists, has flaws! It's comforting to know that everyone has flaws so I know I'm just learning and getting better everyday

Another thing I got from this is that everyone's styles are always changing and warping. But thats fine! Because everyone's moving and changing, and the worlds always moving and changing!

So, don't be so hard on yourself if you're struggling to draw or find an art style, how you draw is unique to you and you'll like it one day

Just keep drawing everyday and you'll get there.

I suggest doing this challenge, on paper or digital, wether you color it or not, or post ot or not!

It's great to try out.

#art #sans au #kristinhateslife #kris007 #killertale #killer sans

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euaphoric · 9 months

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♡.･✩°｡⋆ jk & the panty chronicles ♡.･✩°｡⋆

୭ৎ ࣪ ׅ ⊹ pairing — established relationship, jk x f!reader

୭ৎ ࣪ ׅ ⊹ warnings — smut, switch!jk, dirty talk, panty kink, mommy kink kinda ? shjhsds, masturbation, spitting, thigh riding, ruined orgasm (but lets jk finish in the end tho, she’s not that much of a sadist!), handjob, begging, cute & flustered koo ftw <3

this is the 2nd installment to my drabble series if you haven’t read the first one you can here!

nothing frustrates you more than when you lose something, it’s so nerve wracking — you almost drive yourself crazy looking for it. on a typical day getting ready for work, you were searching for your favorite pair of undies in your drawer but they’ve seem to have gone missing. you spent two weeks trying to find them but eventually gave up since you were having absolutely no luck. it bummed you out because not only was the design super cute, but they were also really comfy and held sentimental value. jungkook bought them as a valentine’s gift — which he surprised you by taking off with his teeth that night. it’d be rude of you to ask him to buy you another pair but you were tempted on doing so anyways since you loved the particular pair that much.

it didn’t dawn on you that this would become a reoccurring theme, until yet another pair ends up disappearing. you noticed straight away, it wasn’t one of your simple, everyday ones so they stood out from the rest. at this point it can’t just be a coincidence anymore— but how do they keep vanishing into thin air? were you accidentally misplacing them? or was someone else behind this? it’s only you and jungkook sharing this house so the only way you’ll get to the bottom of this is by asking him about it, maybe it could’ve got mixed up in his laundry or something! so you text him while at work to see if he may know anything-

[2:50 pm] babeee have you seen my cute undies?? u know the ones with the blue stripes and white lace around them, i can’t find them for the life of me :c

2 new notifications from jungkookiee 🍪🐰:

[2:53 pm] no i haven’t, sawryyyy 💔

aren’t those the ones from brandy? :0

sigh… of course he has no idea where they are, but how does he know the exact brand? he didn’t buy those ones..

[2:56 pm] yes those ! i was looking for them earlier today but ig i lost them T-T

wait, how’d you know they’re from brandy?

3 new notifications from jungkookiee 🍪🐰:

[3:01 pm] …

[3:02 pm] wild guess ?? haha >.<

[3:07 pm] i rlly have no idea tho, sorry i’m not much help baby. but if i do come across them i’ll tell you right away 🫡

theres something off about him but you’re not sure what it is. for some reason you don’t think he’s telling the full truth, but why would he need to lie about such a trivial matter though? you won’t keep texting him about it, instead you’ll ask when you get home, you’ll get an answer out of him one way or another.

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

you head home from work a little later than usual but didn’t tell jungkook that you were on your way back. you were still hung up on earlier, prepared to confront your boyfriend who’s waiting for you at home clueless as ever. the first thing you noticed as you came in was how quiet it is, jungkook wasn’t in the living room nor downstairs where he usually is. your heels click up the stairs slowly, traveling your way to the bedroom when a sudden noise halts your steps. there were low murmurs and soft groans echoing from outside the door and as you got closer the sounds become more apparent. there’s no way he’s doing what you think he is right now… the curiosity is burning through you as you carefully turn the knob to open the door, trying not to make a sound while coming in, the sight you’re greeted with was anything less than innocent. your mouth flung agape when settling your eyes on your boyfriend in front of you, propped on the bed completely naked with his eyes scrunched shut. he flew his head back in delight as his tattoo’d hand wrapped around the base of his throbbing length, holding some object you couldn’t identify. you felt like such a creep watching him from afar like this but you’d be lying if you said weren’t getting subconsciously turned on.

jungkook has such a pretty voice, but his moans are even prettier. he sounds so angelic, whispering nothing but gibberish, grunting, bucking his desperate hips in the air as he bites his lip frustratedly. “y/n..” he pants, hopelessly calling out to you, pumping his angry cock at a faster rate, “nngh~ fuck mommy, n-need y-you…” oh, so that’s what he calls you when you’re not around? you’re not sure what to do with this secondary information but it’s driving you more insane. that’s when you notice something— that object he’s holding around his shaft looks awfully familiar, you remember that color and pattern and wait… it’s your missing underwear! you’ve finally found the culprit but now you’re left with more questions, why did jungkook steal your panties to jerk off with them? was this a secret kink he’s had all along but too embarrassed to talk about? only one way to find out. you fully enter the room now, shutting the door behind as you walk closer to him. the king sized bed sinks further down once you kneel on the edge, jungkook’s eyes still remained tightly closed, but not for much longer. his hand movements become sloppier and hastier, turning more apparent that he’s getting close. that’s when a sinister idea comes to mind for you, ready to spoil all the fun for him.

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

“aah.. shit. think i’m cumming… holy fuu-” jungkook’s sinful sounds abruptly stir at the feeling of something or someone touching him. lashes fluttering immediately to see you sitting on the ledge in front of him. not only was he startled, but he has no clue how long you’ve been there staring at him doing this. “having fun without me, huh?” you ask innocently, tilting your head sideways, acting all oblivious. jungkook’s adam’s apple bobs up and down as he gulps nervously, rendering silent for a bit from getting caught but eventually responds, “h-how much did you… hear?” biting your lip before answering, you press your thighs together while remembering, “most of it,” “enough to know you have a mommy kink now!” you tease his flustered state, giggling at the power and control you had over him. “but don’t worry baby, i think it’s kinda hot.” you look down to still see the flimsy fabric wrapped around him, streaks of his milky pre-cum leak down the side.

you feel kinda bad for not letting him finish but you want to make him do that instead. your hand moves up to gently caress his thigh, “sorry i ruined your orgasm, it’s payback for stealing my panties.” your apology couldn’t be more fake, secretly gloating about this whole thing, but jungkook wasn’t seeming to find any of this funny. you don’t see him like this often, he’s usually the more dominant one and you’re fine with being submissive — this drastic change of personality in him makes you even more aroused. “i know it’s wrong… i- i don’t know why i do it. m’sorry for stealing your stuff puddin’..” his big, round doe eyes plead with you, face all red and blushy as he attempts covering his body with the bed sheet. he was being too cute right now, how could you even scold him? ;(( “aww, babyy don’t be ashamed, i think it’s cute!” you admit, removing the sheet from him, “c’mere gimme kiss.” body tingling with anticipation as your lips collide with his, tangling your fingers in his disheveled locks.

jungkook breathlessly moans into the kiss, mind still hazy from the actions he was performing earlier. your tongue dips, nudging the soft plumpness of his lips to gain further access. he parts his lips ever so slightly, just enough to let you in, exploring the divine taste of him. he moves rhythmically with you, swallowing each other whole as if you were feeding off each other’s souls. the more you devour him the more messy it gets, mingling your spit with his as the kiss grows sloppy with longing passion. he could cum from just kissing you alone, it’s all too much for jungkook’s brain to process… his cock involuntarily twitching when you crawl on top of him. “fuck baby…” he coos into you, palming your breasts under your blouse, feeling like he’s going to combust any minute. “you can touch me later.” you murmur, taking his hands away from desperately wanting to feel you, “let me make you cum while i ride your thigh.”

the warmth of his body consumes you, secured tightly as you were sat between his thigh with your clothed pussy against him. his hands cage the frame of your waist while you rock back and forth slowly, stimulating your clit with jungkook’s muscular thigh. “want me to make you feel good, hm?” your voice taunts his trembling state, ghosting your thumb over the swollen head of his shaft. “p-please..” he whispers under his breath, “please fuck me.” you tsk, snickering at his impatience, he’s going to be waiting a while if he truly wants that. “not yet,” shaking your head as you faintly graze over his erection, “wanna hear you beg for it.” fully grasping his girth, you begin lightly tugging, adding more friction with your undies still wrapped like a present. jungkook winces from your sudden touch, feeling his muscles tensing underneath as you watch him squirm a bit. “i wan- i want…” he babbles senselessly, not used to acting this whiny for you.

“what do you want?” you sigh dramatically, shifting the underwear so you could lean down and spit on his cock, lathering your saliva to create more of a mess, “tell me and i’ll give it to you pretty boy.” as much as he wanted to tell you, he could barely get a word out, he felt so humiliated you were overpowering him like this. all he could do was continue whining, the sounds he’s making are extra pretty, a beautiful melody to your eardrums. “want you so fucking bad baby.. please j-just let m-me.. mmph~” this was gonna be a way harder task for him than he thought. the more his thigh clenches the more you wanna scream out, you’re surprised you’re able to focus on two things at once right now. his cock pulsates in your hand, reacting erratically as you give it another squeeze, he feels so close he could almost see it coming. “m’not gonna last for much longer…” all he thought about was getting to finish inside you, maybe you’ll let him if he acts accordingly. “i wanna fuck you so bad, wanna feel your walls clench around me as i mindlessly ram my cock into you, make you scream, cry, and shake while i have my fingers stuffed down your pretty little throat. i wanna fill you with my cum… give you all my babies and more.. please let me. i’ll do anythiii- agghh!” jungkook’s rambling is cut off when he feels his orgasm rapture through him, the excessive speed you were going + you grinding on his thigh was enough to drive him to the edge.

spurts of his white essence coats your hand deliciously, continuing to pump his length as you milk out every last drop he has to give. “fuck, fuck, fuckk.” he curses from the overstimulation, he wants one thing and one thing only, your sweet, yummy pussy. as much as you wanted to keep drawing this out you didn’t want to keep seeing him suffer. “okay, i’ll let you fuck me,” letting out a chuckle as you finally cave, “but only since you were so good for me.” your attention’s drawn back to the soiled panties that were half covering his cock, it’s still unbelievable that he lied about where they were, knowing full well he was using them to get off. you took the dainty jizz-stained fabric and do an unthinkable act next. stuffing the soaked material inside of you completely, letting his cum seep into your gushy walls. once he saw that, a flip switched within, quickly flipping you over so he could be on top, easily reversing the roles. he watched as you were the one squirming in fear now, locking you in place with your arms pinned above your head. he flashes a sly smirk, getting the last laugh in the end, “you’re so fucking dirty for that, m’gonna have to punish you for being such a naughty girl… maybe i should stuff them in your filthy mouth next, you’d probably like that. wouldn’t you?”

this was well overdue but it’s finally here lollll, part 3 will be up in a much more speedy time i PWOMISE. if you liked this lmk if you’d like to be tagged in part 3, thanks for reading !! :D

tags:: @gywaruu @sweet-sourhotcoco @somehowukook @pjkthjjk @jungkooks21 @asterianax @jungcockthirst @kookznoona @mylilacheart

#jungkook imagine #jungkook drabble #jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x reader #jungkook x female reader #jungkook x f reader #jungkook smut #jeon jungkook smut #bts smut #bts x reader #bts x f reader #jk smut #jungkook imagines #jungkook fic

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rebouks · 3 months

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Previous // Next

[Brodie flicked through the mail, instantly recognising the scrawling handwriting of a certain redheaded little boy. Scaring a few birds in the process, he bellowed up the stairs: ALEEEEX!] Alex: [breathless] Is it for me?! Brodie: Nah, but I could do with some help carrying this super heavy envelope upstairs. Alex: Who do you think you are, Johnny Zest? Brodie: I’m better than that guy, c’mon…

… Hi Alex! Sorry it’s taken me so long to reply to you, I promise I didn��t forget! I guess I just didn’t really know what to say cos I’ve sorta not felt like myself recently. My mom says I disappear into my own world sometimes so I sorta did that again and found it hard to think of anything fun to say. I don’t think I’d mind if you wrote to me about the less fun parts of your life though n’ my dad says you shouldn’t really keep everything to yourself all the time cos it ends up hurting so I thought I’d write anyway n’ just force myself not to worry about being boring or whatever. Your letters and your life always sound so exciting compared to mine though so sometimes it’s hard not to!!

I got in a fight at school which sounds like it should be an exciting story, but it wasn’t really. There’s this kid called Levi in my class that always picks on me (don’t worry though, I don’t care about that) and I couldn’t be bothered listening to him anymore so I hit him a couple times, I thought he’d hit me back but he just freaked out so I sorta felt bad about it afterward. He still makes fun of me but he doesn’t get up in my face as much so that’s a plus. Who says violence doesn’t solve anything? Hahaha I’m kidding! It wasn’t nice of me but maybe he should know better than to push people around so much.

I’m looking forward to summer so I can wander off a bit more and maybe it won’t rain so much! My mom doesn’t really like it when I go too far but as long as I’m back before curfew she tries not to freak out about it which is nice of her cos she knows I like to explore n’ stuff. I shouldn’t complain about my family cos I love them n’ stuff but I like being on my own sometimes and it’d be nice to have a bit of peace now n’ then. I’ve got SUPER good hearing so it’s hard to find anywhere quiet in my house, especially cos there’s always something crazy going on. My aunt Alma is sorta similar to me so she’s been helping me block out the noise with this meditation sorta thing, I guess it’s hard to explain but it’s not as lame as it sounds, it’s kinda fun to see how long you can stay in your own brain without people interrupting you. That probably sounds really weird but maybe you sorta get what I mean?

I finally have a treehouse now too!! It reminds me of your watchtower in some ways, but I guess it’s no way cooler than that, even though I know you’re bored of it by now. I wish we could hang out in it together cos it’s super awesome! Mom n’ dad don’t really bother me when I’m up there n’ my brother n’ sisters can’t manage the ladder yet so it’s all mine! It’s right at the bottom of the garden and looks out over the whole Bay too! Mom said she might let me sleep in it once it gets a bit warmer! It’d be cool falling asleep to the sound of the waves.. I hope it doesn’t end up making me need to pee all night though haha!!

Wren’s been obsessed with watching me play on the computer recently and I keep tryna teach her how to play herself but her little fingers can’t really reach all the buttons on the keyboard too well and she gets stupid mad when she dies so she just makes me play instead. She’d kick me if I told anyone but she’s a bit scared of some of the monsters too lol!! Mom told me I shouldn’t let her watch those ones but they’re the only ones she WANTS to watch and she jumps all over me until I give in so idk what they expect me to do other than lock her in the pantry, but I got told off for that so I guess I shouldn’t do that again haha (Wren thought it was funny though so it’s all good!) It’s a shame you don’t have a computer in the tower otherwise we could play together! Jude n’ Jacob aren’t really into that sorta thing so I usually just play on my own. Do you have a computer back home??

Oh! I got another badge for my swimming lessons too! I’ve almost got em all now which is neat but I sorta wanna avoid getting the last ones cos anyone that gets them all or has good attendance n’ whatever get an award at the end of the school year. They save em all up to give out at some stupid last year disco thing they put on before summer for the last year kids n’ it’d be so cringe to get called out in front of everyone like that. Some people think it’s gonna be amazing like my friend Jude, but I’d rather not go at all. Mom n’ dad keep saying it’ll be fun n’ everyone else is excited about it too but how fun could something be if you’re technically at SCHOOL? Bleh! I know you said you hate it sometimes, but being homeschooled sounds awesome to me lol.

I keep tryna bug my parents to go camping again so we could maybe see each other but they won’t take me out of school for a holiday n’ dad’s too busy with some work project so I guess we’ll have to keep writing to each other instead! Maybe if I keep annoying them about it we can come back in the summer! I hope so anyway but I guess I don’t wanna piss em off TOO much just in case my plan backfires or something.

I still feel really bad about not writing sooner but my dad said better late than never so hopefully you’re not too upset with me! I’ll try my best to write faster next time so you don’t have to wait as long. I’m looking forward to hearing about everything you’ve been up to!! Love Robin c: ps. my dad’s friend finally helped me fix that old polaroid so I’ve sent you some random pictures I took to test it out! I’m still getting used to it but the next ones will be better, I swear!

… the treehouse! it even has cool lights on it!! the back of our house! it’s so big it’s hard to fit in a picture.. it sorta looks fancy but it’s not really n’ dad said it was cheap cos it was a shithole a rare Byrd! (grumpy too – dad tried to take his dummy off him lol) he’s not supposed to be on my bed… the Bay! Jude says I sound girly for saying it’s so pretty here but I don’t care I could take a million pictures of this place n’ never get bored (I’ll stop now though cos mom says these polaroid things aren’t cheap for this model.. oops lol!!)

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thatdeadaquarius · 10 months

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OKAY BUT I HAVE MORE IDEA FOR BLUNT READER CUZ I LOVE THAT AU SO MUCHANDMDJFKSLDKF

So you know how french people's insult are always outta pocket (from a person who's first language is french I can tell you that no other language compares in insult -apart for African languages)

Like,, some "bad" insult here would be : bitch, fuck off, whore,..

Which we can all agree is boring...

BUT THEN IN FRENCH!!!

We be getting creative with it

Eg.

"mange tes mort" wich translates to "eat your dead (relatives)"

"vas te fair enculer" means "go get yourself pegged in the ass"

(yes, we have a specific word for being fucked in the ass 💀)

AND THOSE WOULD BE THE COMMON ONES AS WELL

English could never compare ✨

BUT ANYWAYS

how would the characters react if reader was from france/ belgium/ canada(or any other french speaking country) and started cursing people out like they eould do in their home countrie !?!?

The eay their face would drop

We would make a couple of people cry

AND GOD(us haha) FORBID A KID OVER-HEAR US AND STARTS REPEATING US

Trying to un-teach them would be hell *cries*

Your thoughts?

Love yaaaa~

ABSOLUTE TOP TIER ORAH MY BELOVED!!

Nobody has any idea how much I HATE ENGLISH both for its rules/pronounciation BS/etc. But also, most importantly, THERES LIKE NO GOOD CUSS WORDS- OR LIKE CUSS PHRASES??

I HAD TO PUT THIS GIF BC THAT WAS LITERALLY ME WHEN I HAD THE REALIZATION TO LOOK UP OTHER LANGUAGE CUSS WORDS AND I WAS JUST BLOWN AWAY BY HOW GOOD THEY WERE- HOW CREATIVE- 😫😭🥲 ENGLISH WHY R U SO SHITY IN EVERY POSSIBLE LANGUAGE SITUATION-

like idk we got "eat shit and die / fuck off / go fuck yourself" ???? Like- thats pathetic 😟.

I love hearing someone just cuss smbody out their native language/non-english, it’s so badass and cool to see

Anyway u already know i love non-native english speakers from the bottom of my heart✨️

GOD I FUCKING LOVE BLUNT LANGUAGE AU ITS LIKE ONE OF TOP FAV AS U CAN PROBABLY GUESS I COULD WRITE A LITERAL FANFIC ENTIRELY OFF THIS SIMPLE PREMISE 💖💓💗💞❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥

omg so i HAVE SPECIFICALLY HEARD ABT FRENCH BEING RLLY CREATIVEEE

and i researched french cusswords/phrases,,,

😭 BRO IM CRYING

“bête comme ses pieds!” IM ROLLING ON THE FLOOR-

(trans: you’re as stupid AS YOUR FEEEEEETT)

idk what’s funnier, you translating urself in real time and saying all these phrases to ppl,

OR just scaring the ever-loving shit out of every teyvat citizen within a mile radius bc oh wow- you look pissed, so yeah somebody’s about to lose all their self-esteem for the rest of their life bc ur insults are known to be extra cutting bc ur so blunt-

OH CREATOR ABOVE (…oh creator, present??)- you changed to your holy language FOR THIS???

everybody just giving the npc the most bombastic side-eye for pushing you to do this,

or even just you stubbing ur toe/ate food when it was too hot

or my favorite, getting onto ppl like Wanderer when they do smth silly lmao

STOP I HAD A FOUL THOUGHT OF GETTING ONTO Ei AND WANDERER (like ei for not keeping him/at least giving him to someone else to raise, then all the shit he did as Scaramouche lol)

AND THIS CUSSWORD COMES OUT UNDER UR BREATH OR SMTH- DOES THIS FIT BC THIS KILLS ME:

“Putain de salope…” (whore of whore, I LIED IT MEANS FUCKING BITCH LMAO😭)

JUST GETTING THE MOM AND THE SON IN ONE FULL BREATH CRYINGGGG

STOPPP wanderer using it against other ppl ever since u used it lol

oh no stop dont bring the kids into thisss 😭😭

Klee would deffo be the first one to pick up ur words and use them, omg she just uses them as catchphrases like when throwing her bombs 💀

“Mange tes mort!” JUST WITH A SMILE ON HER FACE AS SHE THROWS HER HUGE SKILL BOMB INTO A FISH POND

Venti would definitely make sure the winds “pass along phrases of the sacred All-God language!”

which just means anyone who UNDERSTANDS YOU JUST GETS GENTLY CREATIVELY CUSSED OUT BY THE WIND IM SOBBINGGG

☆

i hope u guys are having a great summer! its basically too hot to go outside where I am, not unless ur going straight into the water or smth

which hey, ill be doing that this weekend, floating down the river about an hour away from my house with friends! :]

which,,, if anyone sees this, U GOTTA HELP ME THINK OF A 1000 FOLLOWERS MILESTONE THING TO DO IDK WHAT TO DO BUT I WANNA CELEBRATE IT BC I NEVER THOUGHT THATD HAPPEN!! lmk what u think in the comments if u read this!

☆

Safe Travels 0rah,

��♒

♡the beloveds♡

@karmawonders / @0rah-s / @randomnatics / @glxssynarvi / @nexylaza / @genshin-impacts-me / @wholesomey-artist / @thedevioussmirk / @the-dumber-scaramouche / @chocogi

#srry i take so long to answer smth so simple #i actually have a surprising amount of asks!#i was thinkin abt it the other day like #damn should i reopen mail box #then i was like #not really bc i still got a lot of stuff to answer!#so now ITS CRAZZYYY to see my first posts/asks and see me trying to get ppl to send asks!#anyway i gotta make a 1000 followers thing bc i love u guys #sagau #genshin sagau #genshin impact sagau #sagau x reader #genshin imagines #genshin isekai #gender neutral reader #self aware genshin #genshin impact au #genshin x reader

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psiirockin · 4 months

Note

I absolutely adore how you make the human characters resemble their animatronics its so fun to notice and point out. like how liz has those big pigtails and the skirt also her shoes and charlie has stripes on her shirt which idk if that was intentionally connected to puppet butit reminded me of her. and cassidy has the buns in her hair that look like bear ears oughgh they r so cute i love them. I also love love LOVE ur ennard and molten freddy designs!! they look a lot more like freaky bundles of wires (especially molten freddy!!! i am obsessed with the centipede vibes :3) and your art in general is so nice to look at!!! its so pretty!!!

and also im curious if there was any other animal imagery that you added to the mci kids the way you did with the aftons and their bunny faces?

OH WOW you hit everything spot on!! I'm so happy that the little details came through, I was really hoping it would all translate hehe!!

The stripes are intentional! Her sleeves are also long and thick at the bottom like Marionette's arms! I also tried to theme her clothes with some Puppet colors: the purple/black/white/red combos!

And I still need to finish my MCI lineup drawing (so take this old WIP from my other drawing of them for reference RN LOL..), but Gabriel has Freddy's colors + the freckles on his face! Jeremy has big bunny teeth, and Bonnie's colors too. (Mix of blue/purples).

I'd like to think that the top of Susie's dress resembles Chica's bib a bit! Though it initially was not intentionally at all haha.

Fritz has physical disabilities, mainly regarding walking-- and one of his hands crunches up a lot. So I guess you could see that reflected in Foxy having his own physical issues. (And Foxy's hook!) So while it's not much of a little design detail in the way the others are there's still a parallel. (I might have given him a few crooked teeth though, to make them jagged like Foxy's?)

Fritz in particular also comes from a very bad household + is on the chunkier side! He's shy, and a little more emotionally distant. Which y'know, has its similarities with Michael, who is THE Foxy bro haha. I think that Michael would have been really affected by his death, maybe he saw himself in Fritz & wanted better for him. And that's why he uses Fritz' name in FNAF 2's location; in honor of him.

#Sorry for ramble LOL #Thank you for being curious + the love!! I love answering asks like this!#asks #asks open #fnaf #fnaf au #fnaf hc #fnaf missing children #fnaf mci

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ju1cyfru1t · 8 months

Text

the hourglass ⏳ (rise! leo x reader)

prologue

pt.1

rottmnt x reader (Leo centered)

gn reader, platonic???, arguing, leo being stupid 🤞

takes place in the turtles finding mystic metal era 🤭

Today had just not been your day at all. From the moment you woke up, everything was going wrong.

You woke up late because you had stayed up last night to study for a math test, April was sick so you were alone in most of your classes, and you had so much homework to do tonight. You know when you’re having a bad day and all the little things just seem to add up? It was one of those situations.

Now you’re walking home through the busy, noisy New York streets, absolutely exhausted but you knew you weren’t going to get to rest anytime soon.

That’s when it caught your eye in the window of an old, run down antique shop; an hourglass filled with pink sand a golden frame. It had a glow to it, willing you to go into the shop and look at it. There was just something about it…

You picked it up and observed every detail, turning it over. That’s when you saw the small piece of mystic metal wedged into the base. You knew you couldn’t just rip it out or you would damage it. Ugh.

You whipped out your phone, listening to it ring a few times.

“You’ve got Donatello.”

“Hey, Donnie,” you looked around to make sure you were alone except for the small old woman behind the counter but she was deep into a magazine, “listen, I’m at this crusty antique shop and I think I found a piece of mystic metal.”

“Perfect! Great!...What’s the catch?”

“Uh…Well, it’s wedged into the bottom of this hourglass.” You sighed.

“Hourglass?...Hm, just bring it by and I will extract it.”

“What? But I’d have to buy it and it’s…” You searched for a price tag, “Oh my god, it’s 20 dollars!”

Donnie laughed on the other side of the phone, “Don’t even worry about it! I’ll reimburse you…Maybe.”

Oh, the things you do for them. You thought for a second and took a deep breath, “Ok, fine. But you owe me…See you soon.”

The old woman set down her magazine as you placed the hourglass on the counter and digged through your wallet, praying you had enough to buy it.

“Alluring, isn’t it?” She smiled at you with a wink. You had a bad feeling about this.

“Oh, yeah…Haha.” You laughed awkwardly.

You looked very awkward as you carried your newly-owned, oversized hourglass down the sidewalk and you were definitely getting some weird looks. Hey, it’s New York City, right? Surely, they’ve seen weirder things anyway. I mean, you certainly have.

The worst part of visiting your mutant friends is having to crawl down into the sewer and hoping to god no one saw you. But…I guess if it would help them then it’s fine. They definitely owe you though.

You didn’t even bother to knock and just let yourself into their underground lair, which both you and them were used to by now. You looked around, but you didn’t see any of them around. Alright, guess you’ll just head up to Donnie’s lab and see if he’s there. Honestly, you just wanted to get this over with and go home. You loved visiting them, of course, but you were undeniably overwhelmed and not in a good mood at all.

“Whatcha got there?” You jumped and swiftly turned to face Leonardo who had a curious expression.

You sighed in relief, “It’s just you.”

“What is that?” He snatched the hourglass from your hands.

“Hey!” You reached to grab it back, but he moved it out of your reach, “Be careful, Leo. That’s not a toy!”

Leo smirked at you, raising an eyebrow (that he doesn’t have but you know what I mean), “Uh huh, I’m very careful, trust me.” He tossed the hourglass from hand to hand, observing it like you had in the shop.

“I’m serious, Leo, it’s fragile. Just give it back, ok? it’s got a shard of that metal you guys need in it and I need to give it to Donnie.” You groaned in annoyance.

“Come on, lighten up!” Leo scoffed, “What’s got you in such a bad mood?”

“Sorry,” you breathed out, “I just…Had a rough day at school.”

There was silence for a moment before Leo burst out laughing, “Seriously? School? Rough? Yeah, ok.”

“What?” You narrowed you eyes at him, confused. What the hell was he laughing at?

“I’m just saying…What’s so rough about it? You go to school, you learn or whatever, you go home. Seems pretty easy if you ask.” Leo snickered.

Now it was your turn to scoff, “And how would you know, Leon? It’s so much more than that. I mean, it’s so socially draining! All the work at school, and then the homework when you get home. It is hard. I don’t get to just relax all day like you. And put down the damn hourglass before you break it!”

“Woah, woah, woah! Protecting the city don’t just happen on it’s own, you know. I train super hard, I wouldn’t have time for pointless schoolwork. I just don’t see what’s so important about it. You act like school is all that matters to you” Leo’s smug smile faded and he shrugged, still carelessly playing with the hourglass.

“It’s not that easy! I have to care. I mean…God, you couldn’t walk a day in my shoes.”

“Oh, yeah? I’d love to see you walk a mile as a hero.” Leo challenged, smirking.

“If you knew what I go through and how hellishly unfair it is for you to even say that! Put that down!” You grabbed the other handle of the hourglass, trying to yank it away only for Leo to yank right back and leaving you in a tug-of-war.

“Puh-lease! I’d love to be in school all day without a care in the world besides some homework!” Leo’s smile turned into an annoyed, offended look.

“If you only saw the world my way for one day.” You laughed in disbelief at his dismissive, arrogant attitude, “Let go!” You pulled harder at your side of the hourglass, closing your eyes tightly.

A bright pink light filled the room and there was a buzzing sound, but you both were too angry to pay much mind before it faded away.

The hourglass hit the floor, but the glass didn’t shatter. The only part that broke was the small shard of glowing mystic metal, it fell out onto the floor with a small clink.

“Look what you did! I swear you act like such a child!” You groaned, looking back up and seeing…yourself?

“Oh, really, Y/N? I’m a…” Leo looked up and saw…himself?

You both rubbed your eyes and looked back up, blinking a few times, but you were seeing correctly. Whether you believed it or not, you had switched bodies and were staring back at yourselves.

“WHAT THE FU-”

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icallhimjoey · 10 months

Note

very much enjoying the slightly pathetic yearning joe content, 10/10

here, have some more of him (18+ yada yada yada) Wordcount: 3.5K

---

More Than This

part one - part two - part three - part four - part five

Friday. You weren’t meant to see Joe until Friday, after this gig he was going to go to near Brick Lane. He would text you and you would tell him you were home and he could come over if he really wanted to.

Those were the plans.

You'd rescheduled hanging out with James Hinge because Friday night you were meant to see Joe.

Friday.

Not Thursday ‘round dinner time out on the street in the day light.

What the fuck.

You’d walked out of work later than you were meant to and had shared a lift ride down with two of your colleagues that you actually liked - a couple, Sarah and Patrick. Met at work and decided to just… be each other’s person, got married and all. Unimaginable to you, but whatever. They were a good couple, properly chose each other, were good at communicating and still managed to work together fine. Wild, honestly.

You’d decided in that short amount of time in the lift to go for a meal together. They were planning on going for Mexican food and asked you to third-wheel along.

Sure. You had no real plans for dinner yet. Had eaten Joe’s stupid pasta the night before. You could accept Mexican food. Bitch and moan about your other colleagues for a little bit.

You could not accept walking past a busy smoker’s area that took up the whole pavement outside a pub and hear your name being called out.

You were in conversation, sort of complaining about your managers because bonding over bad management with your colleagues really healed the soul after a frustrating day, when you heard someone call your name.

You instantly knew who was trying to get your attention. Of course it was him. This was like, his turf, wasn't it?

For a moment, you tried to pretend you hadn’t heard him. Just kept walking, tried to listen to Patrick go on about what really annoyed him about his manager. It could’ve easily been the wind and the chatter of people in the street that made you hear things.

But then Joe placed the drink he was holding on the windowsill he was stood next to, left his cigarette in the ashtray there and took a few running steps out of the group of drinking smokers to catch up to you.

Called your name again, which made both Sarah and Patrick turn their heads.

Fuck.

“Hey,” Joe smiled widely and seemed genuinely excited to see you. Arms opened for a hug, but you didn’t really respond to them, so he ended up just awkwardly touching both your arms in greeting.

“Hi,” you smiled tightly with just the bottom half of your face.

What the fuck was Joe doing?

You would’ve accepted a quick wave, or even a finger prod in the side as you walked past him. A text, even! Just a quick, hey, I saw you, haha. But a chat? With Sarah and Patrick there? Joe made all of you stop walking and now seemed to want to actually talk.

No.

“How are you?” Joe seemed elated. Grinned all widely. All interested. Joe had never asked you how you were before.

“Did you like the pasta?”

“Oh, um... yea, it was fine, I guess,” the hesitation was thick in your voice, everyone could hear it. Your body language probably made people think you had no idea who this guy who’d just started talking to you even was.

You were also lying. The pasta had been an orgasmic life-changing sort of thing. The heating it up in an actual pan with a bit of olive oil was a real game changer. The microwave could fuck right off.

If anything, you were angry at Joe for giving you such a small little portion of it.

“Good! You going for drinks?”

“Um, no, we’re going to get something to eat, actually,” you pointed a thumb over your shoulder, wanted to turn around to keep walking, to signal that you were in a rush.

“Mexican.”

You prayed to whatever God was listening to your mental screams that Sarah or Patrick wouldn’t invite Joe to join.

Problem was that you weren’t in a rush, no matter how much you wanted to make it seem like you were. By now Sarah and Patrick had stepped close enough to make a little circle all together.

This was so weird.

Very awkward.

“Um, yea... this is Joe,” you felt you had no other choice at this point, kind of had to introduce him to your colleagues. You said it all slow, sounded insanely unsure of what you were doing as you pointed at Joe with a small finger, as casual as you could manage it. Joe was all big smiles, very polite, held out his hand to shake both Sarah’s and Patrick’s.

“Sarah, Patrick. Colleagues.” You nodded, lips pushed together in a tight line as you nodded. You raised your eyebrows and inhaled a deep breath. The uneasiness of it all was practically dripping off of you.

Sarah looked at you with a playful sort of confused smile, like she’d just found out the largest secret ever and was about to make fun of you.

“I didn’t know you were seeing anyone...”

You looked Joe straight in the eye when you answered Sarah, “I’m not.”

“We’re... friends? We’re friends.” Joe stared straight back at you as he clarified. The way he said it made it so fucking obvious what was going on, it made you narrow your eyes at him.

If he was going to say one more word...

A moment followed where Sarah and Patrick looked from you to Joe and back again as you just stared at each other, almost challengingly so.

Joe reached out an arm. Awkwardly touched you on your bicep where you looked at it.

“All right, have fun, enjoy your dinner. I’ll see you tomorrow!”

He smiled, gave your colleagues a friendly nod and a polite smile before turning around and walking back to where he left his beer on the windowsill.

You said nothing. Just stared at him with a slight frown, mouth open in a confused sort of half smile. What the fuck was that?

Stupid.

Stupid it was that was.

Sarah loudly cleared her throat, and Patrick turned to guide you both back into walking towards the restaurant you were going to.

“You’re seeing him tomorrow?” Sarah asked.

“Um, yea, I might do,”

Please stop talking about this.

“Sounds like you’re seeing someone,” Patrick teased, and out of sight and earshot of Joe, you smiled more confidently at him.

“Trust me: I’m not.”

What followed was a dinner where you truly third-wheeled and you regretted saying yes to going with them. All they seemed interested in was your romantic life, wanted to know more about the guy that had just ran up to them, and why did Sarah recognise him? Did he also work in the office building? Why were you so fucking tense, he only asked you how you were doing, didn't he?

“He seemed very nice,”

“What about, I don’t know, changing your ways? Actually giving someone a shot,” Patrick offered.

“Like I gave you one,”

“Like Sarah gave me one,”

You sighed as your colleagues reached across the table to hold hands for a second. Gross. Made you grumble a bit as you dropped your shoulders and closed your eyes in frustration.

“Listen,” you started.

“Uh oh,” Sarah could barely withhold her laughter.

“I know I’m supposed to want to be in a relationship, to find happiness with someone, but, I'm plenty happy right now. If anything, I’ll just end up sad and alone and heartbroken with a bunch of his old T-shirts that honestly have no business being nearly the same size – they’re not even oversized on me, it looks so dumb when I wear one of his...” you stopped talking, cleared your throat. “Never mind. Relationships suck, they never work out.”

You saw how Sarah and Patrick made eye-contact.

“Not yours, though,” you quickly added. “Your relationship is great. You two are made for each other, it’s like, it’s the Disney type of magical stuff with you two, sort of sickeningly so,” you were definitely overdoing it. You tried to save it with, “I think you should make a sex-tape, really solidify the divorce never happening,”

Sarah released a loud laugh.

“Keep that for blackmail.”

“Would you–” Patrick tried.

“No,” Sarah immediately shot him down.

“You did theater in school right? I think you’d be good. I’d watch it.” you joked, got them laughing and swiped the whole topic off the table.

The rest of the evening had been filled with conversation about work. Just a lot of gossip and shit-talking, which was nice. Better than the focus being on that guy that you’d ran into.

That guy texted you the next night. It was past midnight, so technically Saturday, and you’d been trying so hard to stay awake. When Joe finally texted you, you felt like it was too late.

“omw rn nearly there”

“im asleep”

“thats ok ill be quiet”

Fucker made you smile.

“wont even know im there”

And then about ten minutes later, your doorbell rang.

You buzzed Joe into the building and sat on the edge of your bed for a second. You were already in pajamas, soft shorts and a matching short sleeved shirt, and stared at your wardrobe. Debated putting something else on for a second. Looked at yourself in the mirrored door and pulled at your hair. Maybe give that a brush through?

You ended up doing neither.

It was only Joe, and he was probably tipsy, if not a little drunk.

When you opened your front door, Joe was already there, and before you could even say hi, or throw him a bitchy comment about the time, Joe grabbed his chest and feigned a full heart attack. Groans and all.

You gave a deadpan stare from your doormat.

“Jesus Christ,” he panted, bent over now, resting the other hand on one of his knees as he looked up at you still clutching his heart. “Do you just get prettier every time I see you?”

So, definitely drunk.

When you didn’t really react to the theatrics, Joe suddenly straightened up and dropped his shoulders.

“Yea? You done?” you couldn't help the little giggle that escaped you.

“One day,” Joe stepped closer, grabbed you around the waist, “You’re going to accept a compliment for me, and you’ll swoon so hard,”

“Mhmm, I’ll swoon, will I?” you looked up at him and let him push you back enough to step inside.

“Mhmm,” Joe leant in, close enough to kiss now. “So hard.”

He was.

So hard.

Pressed it up against your lower stomach to let you feel it.

You didn’t even make it to the bed.

Joe kissed you, and then one of his arms worked together with one of yours to close the door behind him. There was a teeny tiny attempt from you to move towards the bedroom, but it was futile, because Joe turned you around and pushed you up against the front door instead.

Joe’s kisses were sloppy, sloppier than they usually were, and... you kind of just went with it. Were all sloppy too. You were tired anyway, and it was sort of nice to not put any real effort in. Just get tongue wherever.

Felt nice.

You didn’t bother using your hands to press against Joe over his jeans – they were already straining. Instead, it became a quick fumble to get him out of them, and whilst you yanked at that stupid belt once more, Joe pulled at the strings that held your shorts up.

“Never,” you spoke into a kiss, making you break from each other a second to look down, to see what you were doing and to speed up the getting your bottom halves undressed. “Call me your friend in public every again,” you finished, just before Joe got his hands under your thighs and hoisted you up, back firmly pressed against the door still.

“Okay,” Joe agreed easily. Would agree to anything you’d ask of him now, really.

“And don’t fucking shout– ah,” there he was, “Never shhh...,” it was difficult to speak suddenly, gravity forcing you to feel all of Joe without mercy.

Joe didn't move a second, and maybe it was so you could have a moment to finish the fucking sentence. It was more likely it was because of other reasons, but you used the moment of two bodies held still and in place to gather your thoughts enough to get coherent words out.

“Never shout my name across the street again, especially not when I’m with other people,”

“Okay,” Joe breathed the word into your mouth before attaching himself again. A quick kiss, because there was focus needed for what was going on down below and Joe had to both hold you up and start a nice pace of powerfully thrusting his hips into yours.

Hard work when sober. Harder work when having had a few.

“And don’t...”

You never finished what else Joe couldn’t do.

With your arms slung around Joe’s neck, and his strong forearms hooked under your legs, you were pounded against your door, and you were sure the whole fucking floor could hear you going at it.

Didn’t matter.

Your whole floor saw you invite different men into your flat a lot, and they very kindly always pretended they didn’t see. If you were to run into a neighbour tomorrow, you were sure they would also pretend they'd miraculously gone deaf after midnight and hadn't heard a thing.

You mewled as Joe’s lips found your neck, and instead of throwing your head back to give him more skin to mouth at, you were smart enough not to bang it into the door behind you. Instead, you let it fall forward where it rested against Joe’s shoulder, and where before you tried to somehow be lighter, work with Joe as he held you up, your whole body relaxed for a second. Just, went lax. Made Joe instantly push out a huff of air as he had to work even harder at holding you up.

“It’s always the neck,” Joe spoke softly around a breathy laugh as his hips stilled for a second. Went a lot slower for a moment.

“No it’s not,” you were disagreeing just to disagree.

“Yea it is,” Joe was quick to argue, “Right here,” and you felt your whole body tense up in preparation before Joe’s lips kissed you right where you fucking wanted him to. Made you moan loudly and made Joe kiss you harder.

Pace picked back up.

Inhales became short and sharp.

Altogether it lasted seven, maybe eight minutes for Joe to start whispering, “Careful, careful, careful,” which signaled he was close. Like that was your fault.

“No, keep going,”

You wanted Joe to come.

Kind of wanted to feel the shudders and spasms of the sweaty man that was still holding you up with both arms and, wait.

Wait.

No.

No, no, no!

Fuck!

The second you told Joe to keep going, you realized you’d forgone protection. Hadn’t even thought of it fucking once up until then. Condoms resided in the bedroom – of course you wouldn’t have thought to grab one in the fucking entryway of your flat.

Idiots. You were fucking idiots.

And Joe’d been drinking, was sort of drunk.

And you were exhausted, sort of drunk on lack of sleep.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, no, stop,” you pushed Joe with two flat hands against his chest and forced your legs down. “We didn’t... shit,” you felt panic rolling in as you felt Joe slip out – not because you weren’t on birth control. Unwanted pregnancy wasn’t the issue here.

Listen.

You weren’t stupid.

You were sleeping with several guys. Or, at least, there were like four other men in your phone who you’d totally let in if they texted you to see you were up still, you know?

Slut era. Feminism and shit. Whatever else terms made you feel fine and proud of how you decided to live your life.

Joe probably had his own roster too.

To keep things fun and flirty and all right down there, condoms weren’t a joke to you. You didn’t buy them just to have them close and then not use them. They weren’t there just for the pretence of feeling safe. It wasn't like when you bought office supplies and felt productive just from doing that, didn't even have to use any of it for you to feel all organised.

No.

The condoms were meant to do actual protecting. To actually be used.

Your body was about to move forward, to step around Joe towards the bedroom to sort of try to fix what needed fixing, get a condom quickly, but logically you were both aware it was already too late.

So instead, Joe undid your first little step away from him and pushed you right back against the door.

“No, we–”

Then he dropped to his knees.

“Oh... oh, okay,”

Slung one of your legs over his shoulder.

“Yea, that works, fuck,”

Made you come on his tongue in literal seconds. The fact that you heard him wank as he did really helped, which was surprising. New.

You’d also never had to clean sperm off of the bottom of your front door before, but here you were, on your knees. You know, first time for everything and all that.

“I don’t want to be like, maybe get tested, but...”

You fucking hated this conversation, but felt you needed to be a big girl about it as Joe had a quick clean up of whatever needed a wipe in your bathroom whilst you had a quick clean up of the front door.

“Maybe get tested?” his voice echoed slightly, and you were glad Joe seemed normal about it.

“Yea, I don’t think I’ve got, I don’t think there’s anything... but you know, if there was, I wouldn’t... I don’t want you–”

“Yea, no worries,”

Cool.

Okay.

Great.

Seeing Joe in public the day before had been more awkward than this chat just now.

Nice.

“Sorry for the mess,” Joe’s voice suddenly sounded closer, and you turned to look over your shoulder.

Stupid smirk.

“Your come’s very sticky.”

It was.

“All right. Weird compliment.”

Nose scrunch.

“Wasn’t a compliment.” You groaned as you got up, tired body in serious need of some rest now.

You got a head tilt and a smile from Joe as he got closer and grabbed your face with both his hands.

“I really do apologise,” he said, getting all close and looking you in the eye like a real weirdo.

“Eh, nothing a little Mr Clean won’t fix,”

You took a mental note to buy some tomorrow.

“About forgetting to use protection,”

“Oh,”

Joe leant in for a kiss. An impossibly soft one.

“But,” Joe spoke very softly. Kissed you again. Had you melt a bit, which was dangerous. Risky behaviour, all of this.

“Can I just say,” one of is thumbs rubbed at your cheekbone, at the skin under your eye as you blinked them open. “It was... very good.”

Joe had a look in his eyes that was... it was too much. Scared you a little.

“I think,” you inhaled sharply, then patted Joe on his cheek. Three taps, just forceful enough for him to squeeze an eye shut. “I think you’ve just drank a bit too much.”

Spell broken.

Joe huffed an annoyed breath that made you laugh as you let go of each other. He was right though - it had been very good. Was a nice change of scenery and change of pace for the two of you. You weren’t going to mention that though, obviously.

“Bye Joe,” you gave Joe a tired smile as you opened the door for him and gestured for him to leave with the other arm.

Joe nodded at you, eyes narrowed and tongue in his cheek.

“One day I’ll figure it out,” Joe said, stepping over the threshold. “Figure you out.”

“All right, good luck with that,” you shrugged with one shoulder and before Joe could even come up with a comeback, you said “M’kay, bye!” and shut the door.

You could hear Joe softly chuckle to himself before you heard him say, “I’ll text!” through the door, and then his footsteps disappeared down the hall.

You had a small little moment where you couldn’t help smiling all widely. All sort of... warm in the chest. You looked down and saw Joe’s evidence still there stained on your door.

Gross. But also, you weren’t going to lie... you felt a little proud. Had made that happen just by... just by standing there. Just by letting him get his mouth on you. Nice.

But then reality set in.

Shit.

You stupid, stupid bitch.

How high were the chances of contracting an STI from under ten minutes of stood-up sex, did you think?

---

The Taglisted

@05secondsofsexgods, @a-time-for-wolvess, @adoreyouusugar, @alana4610, @ali-in-w0nderland, @alwayslindie, @babybluebex, @barfightzanddiscolightz, @bettyfrommars, @cancankiki, @capricornrisingsstuff, @chaoticgood-munson, @choke-me-eddie, @did-it-work, @dirtyeddietini, @dylanmunson, @eddie-joe-munson, @eddies-puppet, @electricmunson, @emma77645, @emmamooney, @everythinghasafacee, @figmentofquinn, @frogers, @frootvelvet, @ghost-proofbaby, @ghostinthebackofyourhead, @harringtonfan4, @haylaansmi, @jasminearondottir, @joesquinns, @kellyxo1, @kennedy-brooke, @lovelyblueness, @luvrsbian, @miserybeans, @nadixq, @ohmeg, @paola-carter, @pepperstories, @phyllosilicate-s, @roosterisdaddy36, @sherrylyn628, @sidthedollface2, @thebellenouvelle, @thefemininemystiquee, @thewondernanazombie, @tlclick73, @werepartnersnow, @yelyahcardella

(taglist currently full, sorry)

#Joe Quinn #Joseph Quinn #Joe Quinn x You #Joseph Quinn x You #Joe Quinn x Reader #Joseph Quinn x Reader #Joe Quinn Fanfic #Joe Quinn fanfiction #Joseph Quinn Fanfic #Joseph Quinn Fanfiction #joe quinn x y/n #joseph quinn x y/n #rpf #18+#more than this

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