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#i have some more but I don't want to be annoying showing always the same content
kamitv · 3 days
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Thinking about Gojo who…
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Spoils you like crazy.
He's got so much money and no idea what to do with it so naturally, once he starts dating you he spends ridiculous amounts of money on you.
Plus, every time he buys you something you have that pretty smile on your face that makes his heart ache. He'd go bankrupt just to see you with that smile on your face for all of eternity.
Doesn't believe in personal space whatsoever.
Technically, you picked up on that before the two of you started dating but either way once you're his girlfriend his touchiness only gets worse.
He loves touching you. How could he not? You have such cute reactions when he rests his head on your shoulder or when he grabs ahold of your waist just cause. Plus, you're shorter than him so don't be surprised when he places his hand atop your head because he finds comfort in it.
And even if you were closer to him in height, that wouldn't change anything. You'd be a tree he's willing to climb, a woman he's down on his knees for. Your physical appearance never really matters to Gojo, if you're his-- he's gonna touch you regardless.
Mocks you 24/7.
Especially during sex. He loves your moans but he also loves teasing you when you can hardly speak, making fun of you for not being able to say his name properly as if he's not the reason why. "Toru's cute baby but that's not my name, y'know." "C'monn, you can say the whole thing," He'd taunt while upping the pace of his thrust, fucking you dumb with a smile on his face, "Satoru baby, say Satoru." "Mmh, close but I want you t'say it without stuttering." "Fuck you're so cute mumblin' like that." "Yeah, yeah, that's close enough. S'toru, heh, sounds like you're missin' a letter there, sweetheart."
If you're nagging him about something and facing the opposite direction, he's mocking your mannerisms and hand gestures because he finds them cute.
Follows you around because he's addicted to your presence.
Hungry? He's trailing behind you into the kitchen. Gotta use the bathroom? How convenient, he has to wash his hands and just can't wait. You're on the phone with someone? Well, put it on speaker so he can talk with you!
There's times where you have the nerve to leave him to go to the store alone and Gojo figures it's a simple fix-- he'll just teleport to you, saying something ridiculous like, "I needed to get some more chocolate," after scaring the shit out of you and despite leaving a home with a pantry full of sweets.
Fucks you like a madman.
Well, when you gaze up at him with tear coated eyes and a cute pout on your face, how could he possibly resist fucking you harder?
You’re his woman and he cherishes you of course but in bed he sometimes acts as though he hates you. His cock is so lengthy so he’s always in deep, muttering some nonsense about needed to go deeper despite having you shaking and crying in pleasure beneath him.
From praises to calling you a slut for his cock, Gojo never knows how to shut the hell up either. He knows you secretly like hearing his “annoying” voice during sex so that’s why he’s always talking you through it.
Sometimes his words are soft just to purposefully contrast the way he’s pounding his cock into you.
Knows he’s the strongest but for you, he considers himself weak.
And for you, he’ll tell you over and over how he’s a weak man.
Whenever you look at him, his heart is doing backflips and his stomach is churning trying to figure out the next thing you’re going to say or do so he can react appropriately.
Before you two got together and he was merely crushing on you, he’d get so nervous simply being in the same room as you.
Struggles with self identity and often finds the missing pieces of himself in you
Claims to be scared of women before he met you.
Although he was nervous at first, once he got to know you he suddenly remembered who he was— cheekily flirting with you as soon as you showed the slightest bit of interest toward him.
He’s a dork, really. But he can tell you fell for him that way do he’ll never try to change that about himself.
Is 100% a drama king.
A big pout is almost always on this man’s face over the smallest things. How does someone with infinity stub their toe? You have no idea but Gojo manages to do so just to come pouting and whining to you.
If someone messes up his food order, he’s calling you to take care of it in a heartbeat and then standing behind you with his arms folded as if to back up whatever you’re saying. (Even though he could’ve taken care of this himself perfectly fine).
If you miss even one of his texts or calls, he’s spamming you and then assuming the most outlandish things afterward. You didn’t see his text because you were in the shower? Oh so you hate him and want him to die??
Calls you the silliest nicknames.
Yes he calls you pookie. And yes you laugh every time because it sounds outlandish coming out of his mouth sometimes.
He’ll make shit up too like— my beautiful girlfriend who reminds me of cupcakes with extra sprinkles on top.
As for normal nicknames he’ll settle on calling you baby, love, sweets, or sweetheart in no specific order.
During sex it’s relatively the same but he won’t hesitate to call you a slut or his lil’ cocksleeve whenever he’s really into it.
Occasionally has a way with words that make you gush.
It’d be so random too— the way he’d just look at you one day and tell you something like, “Throughout the heavens and the earth, you alone are the only woman my heart yearns for.”
“You make my days brighter, love.”
“I love the way you laugh, it’s makes me feel like a teenager falling in love every time I hear it.”
“Even in the afterlife, it’s only you I’d ever search for.”
Finds the missing pieces of himself in you.
Gojo’s always struggled with self-identity considering how he’s always been good and anything and everything and how he’s the strongest but after meeting you, it was like he found meaning-, purpose even.
He’s never really had any imperfections so when he meets you, he finds an odd feeling of joy in his heart once he realizes you deem yourself to have a thousand imperfections despite him seeing you more perfect than himself.
Brings you up whenever he can.
Why wouldn’t he? You’re his partner and he loves you.
The conversation could be about the next curse to fight and he’s throwing your name out randomly and talking about how he can’t wait to get home to you.
Smiles at you whenever you’re not paying attention.
Things have always come so easy to him so when he sees that you actually put effort into different activities, he finds it so alluring. How could he possible take his eyes off you when you’ve got your brows furrowed slightly and you’re completely immersed into whatever you’re doing?
Especially if you’re doing something important like work— the way focus takes over your features and you’re immersed into whatever it is you’re doing, he finds it so unbelievably attractive.
Has a smart mouth no matter what.
You could tell him how handsome he looks and he’ll say something like “Oh yeah?” In that cocky tone of his, knowing damn well he’s got butterflies blooming in the pit of his stomach.
“Why are we arguing again?” Is something he’d blurt out mid-debate after you’ve been going back and forth about a specific topic for the past hour or so.
You can try to tell him what to do sometimes but most occasions, he’s scoffing out a, “And if I don’t?” With a brow raised and his arms crossed.
Could get off using a picture of you.
Gojo’s infatuated with you so all he has to do is pull up any picture of you on his phone while his hand is wrapped around his lengthy cock— precum dribbling out his tip at the mere thought of you beforehand.
It doesn’t take much jerking off to a simple picture of you for him to be making a mess all over himself, groaning out your name as if that’ll get you to appear in front of him somehow.
Participates in any and all ridiculous trends you want.
You wanna stack donuts on it? He just so happened to have ordered them already!
Wanna paint your nails the same color as his tip? How convenient, he knows the exact shade for you already.
Put a bow on his muscles just to watch him flex and rip the fabric? He’s got a blue ribbon ready for you to do so.
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A/N: Not proofread so sorry if there’s any errors! Also, this is both in honor of my lovely Satoru returning to us and an anon req from a few anons!! <3
Also, thank you guys for 2k followers here, hello?!?! ^.^
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Tom Ryder x fem!reader
Summary: You're Tom's makeup artist for a movie he's shooting and you absolutely hate him. However, one round of karaoke later, your feelings temporarily shift.
Genre: Fluff, smidge of angst, Enemies to Lovers (very one-sided lmao)
Warnings: Tom is a stupid asshole (but he's also just a mess), swearing, light misogyny, slapping, alcohol, being drunk/high.
The bar is dimly lit and the loud music resounds in your ear as your knee bounces. You stir the straw around your drink, sighing as you turn to Vanessa, your co-worker. "He left me another post-it note on the desk yesterday telling me he wants a new lip oil because his now tastes weird!? His last one is only from last week and it's the same brand he always uses! I'm so sick of his bullshit, V," you drop your head in your arms and then peek up at Vanessa again, "He's such a dick."
Vanessa laughs, sipping on her margarita, as she shrugs, "Didn't you know that when you took the job, honey?"
"I mean, sure. But those could have been rumors," you pout and sit up, moving some hair behind your ear as you look around the room, where other crew members have gathered around the karaoke machine.
"Listen, don't think about Tom Ryder. You're off the clock and everyone knows he's a world-class asshole—a pretty world-class asshole, I will let him have that," Vanessa hums and also turns her attention to the rest of your friends and co-workers as she claps her hands. 
You look down at your drink, your cheeks feeling warmer than usual. Not thinking about Tom Ryder was easier said than done when you had to work on his face 5 days a week. He was so infuriating most times, either talking down to you when you worked or wouldn't cooperate with anything you told him to do because he was on his phone. Sometimes he really makes you want to stab the mascara stick into his eye. 
Still, you can't deny he's extremely handsome and that just annoys you more. 
Suddenly, you hear a bunch of cheers and hoots from outside, directly accompanied by the sound of the door slamming open. When you hear an all too familiar voice, your eyes widen and you snap around to make sure you hadn't just imagined it. 
Tom Ryder coming to one of the crew parties? No fucking way. Obviously, he's always invited to them but in a very arrogant fashion he never shows up—which is one of the reasons you do, because he never does. 
Only this time he did and he's not alone. 
Tom is dressed in another one of his boisterous outfits, his shirt loosely unbuttoned to reveal his chest and a peak of his toned abs. Pink-tinted sunglasses sit on his nose and his dirty blond hair curls messily around his face.
He looks drunk, or high, when he walks in and you can't tell which one it is because he's constantly moving and laughing. He's accompanied by a few other low A-list actor friends he has and a pretty blond model hangs on his arm, her giggles instantly infuriating you. 
How can she stand to be near him for more than a minute? Even less hold his arm and be his eye-candy? 
You turn back around, desperately attempting to calm the bile rising in your throat. God, you hate him. You feel even worse when he leans beside you at the bar and orders a drink from the bartender, snapping his fingers as he does. He doesn't even address your presence beside him and your blood boils. 
Your anger immediately turns to disgust when you hear the man hosting the karaoke scream out Tom Ryder's name.
"Tom Ryder everyone! I loved your new movie, man, it was awesome! How about a song?" the man asks, eyebrows wiggling as the crew clap (mostly out of politeness) and his friends make loud, drunken noises like a bunch of animals. 
"C'mon! One song—for all the pretty ladies in the crowd!"
Tom seems intrigued when the man mentions the girls. You roll your eyes and your hand tightens around your glass as he walks up to the host, raising his hands in surrender and feigning humbleness. "Alright, alright, I have to give the ladies what they want, don't I?" Tom boasts, winking at one of the camera girls he never looks at otherwise. 
Someone put you out of your misery now.
The host seems ecstatic to have someone this famous next to him and asks Tom for a quick photo, which Tom obviously doesn't turn down. You pretend to gag when Vanessa turns to look at you and smirks at Tom's behavior.. 
"How about a duet, Ryder?" The host asks as he hands him the mic. 
"Nah, I usually sing solo," Tom says, his words slightly slurred, and then he leans in to whisper something in the host's ear—which probably goes something like, "Unless she's got a nice rack, then by all means invite her up here." 
You lean in and whisper into Vanessa's ear, "Ten bucks he takes home the girl he ends up singing with," you say with a frown, your voice a little strained. Vanessa laughs and then the worst thing happens.
"You," the host shouts and you look up alarmed. Your eyes are wide when you realize everyone, including Tom, is staring at you. "The angry-looking girl in the back. Why don't you come up and join him? I doubt he'd bite." 
Laughter, including some nervous ones from your friends, resounds around the room as Tom's smirk widens. You'd be surprised, you think. You find your voice again and say, "Um, can't you ask one of them?" you point to the group of eager fangirls swarming around the small stage as they ogle Tom. 
"C'mon, sweetheart," Tom slurs, squinting at you, "One song won't kill you." 
But you might just kill him.
Vanessa, the traitor, nudges you again and you stumble from the stool. You glare at her but when all your friends, including Tom's more obnoxious friends, chant encouragements you feel completely trapped. 
The walk to the small stage feels eerily similar to a walk of shame as you look to your co-workers in hopes someone will save you. No one does and you ignore the stares from all the girls who wish they could take your place. 
You're blinded by the lights as you step on the stage and approach the host. "Atta girl," the man smirks patronizingly as he hands you the second mic. You scrunch your nose at him and then look up at Tom, expecting him to be ignoring you like he usually is, but instead, he's staring. 
His cheeks are pink from being intoxicated and he tilts his head, watching you clutch the mic nervously. 
The host doesn't warn you when the song begins to play and he walks away. You realize too late you and Tom are now alone and everyone is watching you as dread slowly fills your stomach. 
You don't even know how to sing! This is so humiliating. 
 The familiar melody of, "Don't Go Breaking My Heart," fills the air and you feel the heat rise in your chest and up to your ears. Your heart is pounding so loudly you can only faintly hear Tom start to sing the song. He sounds fairly good and you aren't surprised considering he's an actor. 
Your voice catches in your throat and you feel tears rise. You don't sing when it's your turn and the crowd is silent. 
Suddenly, you jump when you feel a strong hand on your hip and you snap your head around to look at him. Your hand finds Tom's hand immediately, gripping it, and just as you're about to pull it away, he leans in and whispers, hot against your ear, "Baby doll, you're making me look bad," he states, his tone as condescending as it always is, and your heart does a somersault in your chest.
He looks down at you this time, his blue eyes lock with yours for a moment and his hand falters on your hip. For an actor, Tom Ryder has surprisingly no poker face because when he sees your distressed state, his demeanor shifts, and instead of frustration, he takes on a different approach.   
He takes your hand, suddenly twirling you around and you make a small sound as you stumble. It's been a few seconds since anyone has sung the song, so he sings again and this time, his eyes stay on yours as he sings your lyrics.
"You know this," he mouths, encouraging you as he does this weird, clearly drunk-induced shimmy that makes you laugh despite your better judgment. He points to the small screen where the lyrics are displayed.
You take a breath and then sing, focusing on him instead of the crowd and your head feels light. You would have never guessed there would be a day when you'd find comfort in Tom Ryder. Your friends clap with amusement and laughter swirls around the bar as you both continue to sing and dance. 
Occasionally, Tom will pull you in closer but you'll move away, flustered, and when the song finally ends, you move back and almost trip on the mic's cord. 
With a gasp, you expect to fall flat on your ass but instead, Tom wraps his arm around your waist and pulls you into him as your palms press on his chest. You're breathing heavily and so is he, his hand is still on your back as his eyes roam over all your features until you push him away and walk down the small stairs and back to the ground where all your friends are whispering and clapping. 
You feel like you can't breathe, your heart beating so quickly. You mumble a quick "excuse me" to Vanessa, snatch your purse from the bar counter, and open the door to outside. The cool air calms your burning skin and you lean against the building. 
What the fuck was that? Why was he looking at you like that? 
"You know, it's normal to be nervous around someone like me," Tom's voice interrupts your panic and you spin around, not expecting to see him. "But running from me? Now, darling, that's truly a first," he finishes with a chuckle and an obnoxious smirk. 
"You're so full of yourself," you whisper automatically but then your eyes round as if you've realized what you'd said. 
Tom looks surprised but he also remains cool as he strokes a hand down his jaw and puts it on his hip. "Mm, I assume you're not a fan then." 
You cross your arms and look anywhere but directly at him because fuck, why did someone so incredibly stupid and pretentious have to be so darn hot? "You could say that, sure," you shrug. "Not everyone likes you, Tom Ryder." You shut yourself up as soon as the words leave your mouth. This isn't exactly something you should say to someone who you work with.
However, Tom's expression sours and he lifts his eyebrow. "You don't like me?"
You turn to him, eyes locking with him this time. "That isn't what I said."
Tom's eyebrows crease and he squints at you, removing his stupid sunglasses and they push back his blond hair. "You're confusing me." He sounds genuine. 
You can't help but chuckle at his idiocy and surprisingly for you, your laughter makes him smile. He leans in and you lean away, eyes round when you realize how close he's becoming. "You have such a sexy laugh," he says cockily, "Bet I can make you do it again."
You hate to admit this but your heart does flutter at his words. Can anyone really blame you? It's Tom. Fucking. Ryder. You try to remind yourself how much of a dick he is—and always has been—but as you look into the blue of his eyes, his reassuring touch burns imprints on your skin and you feel dizzy. 
Shit. 
"You look familiar," Tom straightens himself, "Have I seen you somewhere? You been in any magazines? You certainly have the look."
You ignore the so-called complement and stare at him. He has to be kidding. You've been doing his makeup for over six months now and he supposedly sees you almost every day. You worked on his face every single day—how could he not recognize you? You open your mouth to ask if this is a joke but he interrupts you.
"Seriously, I must know you from somewhere. Gimme a hint, baby,"
Your stomach sinks and you feel so so stupid. Tom doesn't sense your shift as he's still focused on whatever fleeting emotion may have been between you before as his hand finds your hip. 
Instantly, your palm connects with his cheek, and the sound cracks into the air. "Don't touch me," you say harshly, ignoring how shaky your voice is.
Tom looks at you, his hand over his bruised cheek, "You hit me?!" he says in disbelief, "What the fu—" 
You don't stick around to hear his whining as you turn around and run from him. 
Again. 
"Hey–wait!" you hear Tom's shout but why would you turn around now? Tears of frustration brim your eyes as you hastily walk down the empty sidewalk.
There is no way you're fucking crying over Tom fucking Ryder right now, you tell yourself and pinch the inside of your eyes. 
No way. 
You ignore Vanessa's incessant calling and her worried texts when you arrive at your apartment. You scream in frustration, throwing your heels across the room and scaring your poor cat, Pumpkin, as she sprints into the living room, her claws against the floorboards.
Quickly, you follow her and scoop her into your arms, "'M sorry, baby," you coo and nuzzle your nose into her fur. "I'm sorry Mommy scared you."
You hear Vanessa's fifth call from your purse but you're too exhausted to deal with her and the fallout from what had happened tonight, so instead you sit on the couch and cuddle with Pumpkin, scratching behind her ears. 
* * * 
When you pull into the parking lot of the new set the next morning, you haven't slept well and you feel like shit—it doesn't help that they're filming outside today, in the summer heat, and grainy sand infiltrates into your Converse. 
You groan as you walk over to the makeup trailer and see Vanessa waiting for you. You almost called in sick this morning until you realized how guilty that would make you look, so you sucked it up. 
"Y/n?!" Vanessa shrieks and pulls you behind the trailer. "Where have you been?! I've called you a hundred times, why haven't you answered any of them? I was worried Ryder somehow took you home and that I'd lost 10 bucks—" 
"Gross, why would you think that?" you say with disgust as if you weren't surprised to hear that after you left Tom hadn't returned to the bar. 
"I mean, for one, Ryder was missing and no one knew where he went. And second, are you shitting me? Girl, the tension was more than palpable! You were practically dry-humping Tom Ryder in front of everyone!" 
You feel like someone has just punched you in the stomach and your voice comes out high and nervous when you exclaim, "I was not! It wasn't like that, V! Is that what everyone thinks?" Vanessa nods as an answer and you want to scream. 
"I swear, I- nothing happened—even outside—I- funny story I slapped him because he's a jerk and I- I don't like him!" you ramble and your heart thumps quicker when Vanessa looks behind you and her mouth curls into a devious smirk.
"Don't look now, sweetie, but your boyfriend just arrived," she pauses and checks her watch, "An hour late. As usual." Vanessa looks you dead in the eyes and then she teases, "Chop chop, time to put makeup on your man." 
Your eyes widen and you pull Vanessa further behind the trailer so Tom won't see you or her. You hold her shoulders. "Please switch with me for today. He won't even notice the difference, and Allie doesn't need to have her makeup done until noon so that way I don't have to see him! Please, V, I'll do anything!" 
Vanessa crosses her arms, "Nothing happened with him, hm?"
You look at her, your eyes round and pleading, "Please."
"Fine, but you're paying for my lunch later," she says and taps your nose, "and giving me a detailed rundown on what happened with Ryder."
You nod reluctantly, whispering a small thank you under your breath as she turns to walk into the makeup trailer behind Tom. You let out a breath, leaning against the trailer. You know you'll have to face him at some point—just not now.
The day drags on and on as the heat is becoming almost unbearable. You stand to the side, your makeup kit secured to your hip as you watch the scene from under a tent. It's another action sequence and it's very obvious Tom's makeup is fading from the warmth and his sweat. 
Shit, you realize, he needs a touch-up. Vanessa didn't use the correct primer. 
You look around, hoping to see Vanessa and tell her Ryder needs a touch but the director's voice cuts in and you tense, "Cut! Someone come to fix his face!" Jody turns to you, her eyes kind as her voice becomes a little less stressed when she sees you're prepared for this, "Can you fix his makeup?" 
Shit, shit, shit. 
This is your job, you can't say no so you walk out onto the set where Tom is leaning against a prop rock. He straightens himself and when he turns, he doesn't have the chance to process your presence as you guide him down and fumble with your kit. 
He's taller than you so he's leaning down so you can fix him up properly. You put your hand on his jaw, near his ear, to steady him as you touch up under his eyes and near his cheekbones. 
He's staring at you and you know he recognizes you this time, his blue eyes wide and puppy-like. 
Silently, you add some powder on his cheeks and nose so the product sticks better this time and when you let him go, Tom opens his mouth to speak, but you shake your head no, and then you turn your head and hurry back behind the camera. 
Your ears are burning from embarrassment as you walk directly to the makeup trailer, without looking back at anyone. 
You've barely closed the door when it slams open and you scream. You spin around just as someone tries to hold onto your arm and on instinct you grab the hairspray that's in your kit and spray it directly into… Tom's eyes. 
He screams too, his voice high-pitched and very un-sexy, as he clutches his eyes. Seeing him only causes you to scream again. "Ryder?!" you exclaim and immediately take his arm, pulling him inside the trailer as he wails like a child and rubs at his eyes. 
You slap his hands away and push him down under the faucet, pouring water into his eyes and in the process drenching his blond hair and ruining his mascara. 
"Fuck," he groans as he sputters out water as he jerks away from you. You move closer to him and without thinking hold both of his cheeks in your hands, looking directly into his, now slightly irritated, eyes. 
"Does it hurt?" you whisper, clearly concerned. 
Tom rests his hands on yours and pulls them away, "What do you think?" he groans and blinks a few times. "You're the girl—" he mutters and pinches his nose, "at karaoke. I remember you now."
You realize how close you are to him now and, overwhelmed, you step back. "Lucky me," you mumble sarcastically and take his arm, pulling him to one of the seats. "I have to fix your face again or someone is gonna fire me." 
He's weirdly docile as he looks at your work as you dry his hair. Once you're done, he speaks up, "Why'd you run from me? I mean, c'mon, the way you looked at me with those fuck-me eyes—" 
Tom has no shame and of course, he wouldn't. He's probably never really been rejected in his entire life and women have most likely let him speak to them like this. You pause and pull his chin harder so he's looking at you as you continue with his mascara. 
"Tell me honestly Ryder, do you even hear yourself when you speak?" you ask, your voice strained. 
"What?" Tom asks, sounding genuinely confused. 
"You're an asshole. That's why I ran from you." You drop his chin and your word vomit comes out without you being able to help it as you cross your arms, "I mean—I have been doing your makeup for months! And you've only ever left me your stupid post-it notes when you have a demand! No "Hi," "Good morning," "How are you?" No. Nothing like that. And I tried! I really tried in the beginning because like everyone else on this fucked up planet I thought you were awesome."
Tom opens his mouth to make a snide comment but you instantly press your finger to his lips. 
"I really thought, "I'm so lucky to be Tom Ryder's makeup artist!" and then I found out Tom Ryder is a shit person that doesn't—"  
"I'm not a shit person," Tom deadpans and stares at you as if your words have hurt him. 
You tilt your head and drop your arms to your side. You don't even know what to say to him anymore. 
"Okay, okay, I'm sorry I made you feel shitty, okay?" Tom defends and his cheeks are pink, "I just—I am really bad with faces—and I-I was completely shit-faced and high on–" 
He pauses, stands, and wraps his hand around your jaw, his thumb stroking your bare cheek as your eyes widen and you tense. Something about his charm makes it impossible for you to move and because his touch is gentle, you aren't too worried. For now. "'M sorry. I am. Can't we call it even since you hit me and sprayed me in the face with whatever that fucking was?!"
He continues, "—listen, I liked karaoke with you and I was shit-faced so I know I must have been a dick."
"You're always a dick, Ryder," you comment, your tone less mad than earlier.   
"Then, you don't know me very well," Tom shrugs, "or like at all." 
"So—you're saying all this dick-ishness is a persona?" You sound very skeptical and Tom just shrugs as his thumb strokes over your skin once more and then he drops his hand, putting some distance between you and him. 
"No. Not entirely. But, you know, that doesn't mean I'm incapable of genuine feelings, Y/n."
You're surprised when you hear your name fall from his lips. Tom sees your expression and another one of his smirks curls at his lips, "As I said, I remember you now. Always did—my hot makeup artist—ask anyone—ask Gail, I mention you a lot. I was just hammered, you know? High out my mind—and it heightened all my fucking senses that I couldn't get your laugh out my head for hours." 
"If you're joking," you say and glare at him, "it isn't funny." 
Tom puts a hand on his heart dramatically, "'M not. Scouts fucking honor." 
You look at him and for once, you can't read him. "Well, either way, that doesn't change how much of an asshole you've been to me. You never said "hi" but you told Gail about me? Sorry, but that doesn't impress me."
You walk up to him and tilt his head using his chin, examining his make-up once more, and then you take his arm and try to pull him out of the trailer, "Now, c'mon, you have a job to do—go do it," you hiss.
"But—" 
"No," you start but he won't move. He turns around and stares at you. Fuck, he's strong. "Why won't you leave?" you ask, breathless as you step away from him. 
"Do you hate me so much that you won't even consider that I genuinely find you interesting?" he asks with a hint of insecurity in his voice again. "That I liked spending time with you and I think you're pretty."  
Your chest tightens and you sigh, "I- I don't know," you admit and you look up at him. You can't deny that your feelings have shifted and a little voice in your head screams that this is a trap and he'll eventually break your heart. 
"Here," Tom fumbles with the pants of his costume and pulls out a pen and a post-it note. 
"You seriously just carry those on you?" you crack a smile, finding that weirdly endearing. 
Idiot. 
"Yeah," Tom says like it's the most normal thing ever and then he writes down something on the paper. When he hands it to you it's the name of a restaurant. You frown, it's your favorite restaurant. He'd written a time beside the name. 
"How do you know this is my favorite restaurant?" you ask. 
Tom looks up, his smirk turning into a smile. "I didn't—it's mine."
Your frown deepens, "Hm, I didn't take you for a low-priced family-run Chinese restaurant kinda guy—don't you have a personal chef or something," you say and look at the time he's written down, "What is this anyway?" 
Tom shrugs and adjusts his hair. "I do but I like this place. The family who owns it never tells anyone I've been there, it gives me some privacy," he sounds serious and he walks closer to you, "Don't tell anyone, it might ruin my reputation and then your favorite restaurant might be swarmed by a bunch of fangirls," he smirks, pleased with himself. 
You can't help but chuckle. 
"And this," he points to the time, "is where I'll be tomorrow evening if you'd like to join me," he says nonchalantly and then opens the trailer door. Just as he does, he takes his phone and takes a picture of the time so he remembers it and he sends you a wink. "I won't wait long but if you do come, it's on me." 
You stare at the paper and realize Tom Ryder has just asked you on a date. You look up but he's gone and your heart does about ten thousand summersaults as your brain screams in agony. Your cheeks feel warm as you fold the paper up and put it in the pocket of your jeans. 
You're so very screwed.
You hear a ding and then a text from Vanessa saying, "Ryder's mic was on—crew heard absolutely everything—we didn't wanna interrupt your moment," she adds a mocking winking emoji but you don't care. 
That's the least of your worries now that you have a date with Tom Ryder.
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waspredteeth · 17 hours
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regarding Chris and Damian as foils... I'm always peeved when some people minimize what could be interesting about their relationship to "a child who only values his biological family and hates his adoptive family vs a child who renounces his bio family and embraces an adoptive family." This brief summary/discussion always tends to boil down to Damian is an evil child who must learn to appreciate his adoptive siblings from Chris, who's a perfect boy who loves his adoptive parents and hates his abusive bio parents. When really, that screws both of their characters.
Damian has a complicated relationship to say the least with Bruce and Talia, but neither of them taught him that blood is everything. When written well, Bruce should be stressed and neglectful but deeply loving and Talia shouldn't be an abuser but a sorrowful mother who wasn't able to give him a free life that she wanted for herself.
I should stress that the "blood son" rhetoric that pops up around Damian existed only in his first appearance and the animated movies. In pretty much all of the comics afterwards, Damian was disparaging of Dick, Tim and Cassandra, but he didn't point out his "biological superiority" unless it was specifically in service to Tim's own storylines. His character evolved from an annoying brat that exists to challenge Bruce and Tim for a couple issues to a full child character whose insecurity within a family leads to him lashing out at everyone he deems closer to Bruce than he could ever be. Moving on to Chris Kent, his entire first storyline revolves around building a relationship with Clark and Lois and finding the resolve to fight back against Zod and Ursa. In the end he makes the sacrifice to return to the Phantom Zone in order to ensure that his bio parents can't return to Earth. But in the end, he's just a kid. He struggled with fitting in on Earth. Unlike Clark, he didn't understand why he had to hide his powers. Had he not been sent back to the Phantom Zone to wrap up the story arc, I would've really liked to see Chris struggle with pretending to be a human kid after so long being taught the opposite by his bio parents. Later on when Chris reappears aged-up (deja vu) he's still pretty much the same character but notably more cocky and impulsive to contrast against Thara Ak-Var.
Damian and Chris's potential interactions should be preceded on how similar they are - not on how superior Chris is because he's a loving kid, and Damian is too traumatized to express the same kind of trust and affection that people expect from child characters. Besides, they have entirely different situations. Damian is a child suddenly being dropped into a large and well established family with complicated inner dynamics and rituals, while Chris is a child being brought into a small and simple family structure consisting of Clark/Lois, Kara and Clark's parents. (Pointing out here that Jon didn't exist and Kon-El was killed in Infinite Crisis months prior to Chris's appearance). Chris's bio parents are cut and dry neglectful and abusive, and Damian's parents are a complicated jumble of neglect, ooc abuse, angst, and love. Damian had to contend with the frankly insane plots and history of all the Bat-characters while Chris was confined to one plot line in a fairly consistent Superman run. I don't think I have to spell out how mentally unstable and grief-stricken a lot of the Bats were when Damian became Robin versus the relatively normal lives of Ma, Pa, Clark and Lois when Chris showed up. When exploring what their interaction could've been, I think Damian would one-sidedly hate Chris, who would try to avoid him. Damian would resent Chris for being everything he isn't: a child whose flaws are accepted and embraced, a child with a complete loving family and support, and a child that allowed to be a child. Chris probably wouldn't like Damian at first for being Robin when he got used to Tim being Robin, and he'd be discouraged at how snappy and anti-social Damian is. He's a kind child, but he's not a saint. Chris would have the usual child hang-ups about interacting with mean kids and socializing outside his family. They'd accept each other the way that they are, but I don't think they'd become friends until Damian matures and Chris acclimates to human society as his own individual. Maybe eventually they grow to trust/confide in each other like Bruce and Clark - but until then it'd probably a lot of Damian making rude comments and Chris going :/
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renniethedwstan · 1 year
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Eleventh Doctor.
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I have a hot take, I think Eleven is better than Ten.
Reason?.......I'm not telling you guys the reason because it's just my opinion, and everyone is allowed opinions, so please just be respectful.
Also, just to clarify, I don't hate Ten at all. I love the Tenth Doctor era so much because Ten is my first Doctor, and he introduced me to Doctor who. but Eleven is the reason why I'm still obsessed with Doctor who.
#eleventh doctor#doctor who#matt smith#tenth doctor#david tennent#i just think Ten is a Doctor people always watch first because hes pretty so that means people always end up missing out on nine#then because they like ten so much they sometimes become very closed minded and have to much high expectations#yes its okay to have expectations but people wanting David Tennant back permanently as the doctor because they don't like the writing#or casting is a bit stupid. just enjoy the show mate#and if you dont like the new writing or casting just switch it off stop bloody moaning#Doctor who is for everyone and not everyone is going to like the same thing#and certainly not everyone wants to have david back just becuse youre feeling nostalgic and cant handle change#just accept that#i love eleven because hes the kind of doctor that acts happy but really hes just really good and putting on a face#hes super dark and his stories are absolutely amazing#some are scarily underrated like why is no one talking about these more#even though there was some romace in elevens run it wasn't constantly and i actually liked river#i cant stand s2 rose#she became so boring in s2 which sucked because i loved s1 rose she was so sassy and spunky#in s2 she just becomes......idk theres nothing she just becomes annoying#i used to love tens era as a kid but as ive gotten older the more ive actually gone......ughh cant be arsed to watch#and thats because its just....it takes a lot of effort for me to watch ten#and almost every person ive met saying ten is their favorite#doesn't helo at all especially when they say they only watch ten and completely ignore the others#it just makes me so bloody annoyed like if youre gonna watch it WATCH THE OTEHRS TOO AND DONT SKIP NINE#im so sorry for that rant im just so tired of hearing about ten#i just wanna hear people talk about 9#11#12#and 13
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llycaons · 8 months
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im finally feeling awake now so @pharahsgf this is the post I was talking about
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foolish. reductive. immature. disrespectful. willfully ignorant. WRONG
#I have had this person blocked ever since they said they were into xi//cheng#but I wish I could block them again just for this. it's so stupid and indicitive of all the most annoying misconceptions#first of all pretending that jc and wwx are still at the same emotional and social and moral level postres#when jc not changing/remaining static is one of THE most important part of his charact#and wwx changing and developing and growing up is so significant esp postres when he's wiser and quieter and more mature#even in the flashback arcs he doesn't dwell on his torture of the wens he doesn't 'love it' he doesn't brag about it#he doesn't ever WANT to do it again he clearly just wants to put it behind him#he's done bad things in the past and he wants ppl like xy to pay but that doesn't mean he endorses torture#AND it brings in the fiction that wwx is or needs to be protective of jc when postres he's the one who needs protection FROM jc#like yeah im sure after the verbal assaults and the triggering of his phobia and the physical attacks#he's just rushing to throw himself in front of jc to protect him from dcs#it just plays into jc stans' misconceptions that wwx is happy to sacrifice everything for jc and always will and therefore SHOULD#because ohh everything is about jc and everyone loves him. literally not true to any version of canon#I don't even think the torture dungeon has enough evidence to really consider in the novel and its not even mentioned in the show#but his unilateral violence towards people he suspects of being DCs is visible in literally the second episode#and idk why wwx would just start to 'love' that violence and aggression when it was once pointed at him#especially when he has the option to instead spend time with people who have never tortured anyone suspected of doing some vague bad thing#okay I'm done! I'm done. this got me soo mad though what a stupid fucking post#cql txp
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now that I’m dragging my mental health back to a semi-decent place and feel like I might have the energy to like....write literally anything again, at some point I’m going to write about the importance of critiquing within the context of a written story
as in, critiquing narrative points completely without any consideration of how they are contextualized in the story is a bit unfair.
as in, I continue to see things about the Ted Lasso finale that annoy me. not because people had a different read of the finale or disliked different things than I did - or that they’re critiquing it at all; there’s plenty I will critique or would have done differently - but like, saying things like “Ted going back home to Kansas is bad because he’s clearly miserable about it” is an unfair reading when, within the CONTEXT of the story, it’s not framed that way. regardless of whether it was a choice you liked or how you would have wanted things to end, it’s not framed in the story as a) a bad thing, b) a miserable sacrifice, or c) a thing that Ted is upset about. so there’s a difference between saying “I don’t like Ted going back home to Kansas at the end because to me that doesn’t read as a happy ending’ and “the finale objectively frames Ted going back as a bad thing because it makes him unhappy” 
and this isn’t JUST a critique on criticism in regards to Ted Lasso. it’s the nature of fandom criticism in general. “I didn’t like this thing” becoming “this thing is objectively bad in the story” or even “this thing is portrayed as objectively bad bc of this, this, and this” despite that contradicting how the story actually frames it.
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chuluoyi · 1 month
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jealousy, jealousy...
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- nanami kento x reader
your husband seems to be immune to jealousy, and you've pretty much convinced yourself that he just doesn't have it in him... or does he?
genre/warnings: crack, fluff, jealous!nanami (he is in denial), implied suggestive content, mentions of pregnancy, gojo cameo (i just can't pass up the chance of him annoying the heck out of nanami ahaha)
note: based on this ask, this is a little continuation to the secret wife! and this is in the same universe as love entries so gojo is married to the love entries reader! :)
series masterlist | oneshot masterlist
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By all means, Nanami Kento is not a jealous man.
He knows his worth. And he knows you. Out of all people, you wouldn't try anything with anyone.
Even more so with Ino. He knows him too, and there is just no way.
So... he really shouldn't get riled up, especially when it was his shitty senior who tried to set him on fire—
"It's still beyond me, how you managed to bag her," Gojo remarked with a bark of snort. Both of them shared the same table in this high-end bar, an afterparty for the school's graduation, but Nanami was seriously considering to move after Yaga left earlier until this clown came. "And keep her a secret too. I mean, that's so foul! If I were your wife, I'd divorce you on the spot."
Nanami threw him a pointed look. "The feeling is mutual. I feel bad for her for putting up with you too. And please don't be gross and say things like you being my wife. It's appalling."
Gojo's wife being his close friend and former classmate was what foul, Nanami thought. Sure, he would acknowledge Gojo's relentless efforts, but still, anyone willing to be this shameless paintbrush's wife must lead a really daring life.
The strongest sorcerer rolled his eyes. "Nah, I'll have you know that my married life is full of bliss. I have a proof, look at my—"
"If you want to show me hickeys, I'll seriously report you for harassing me."
And to that, Gojo merely whined and pursed his lips, and Nanami finally had some peace. He really entertained the thought of going back, because Gojo wasn't exactly a fun company, and this was getting late, until…
"Hey, Ino—the one who always follows you around," Gojo suddenly said. "Whoa, you're letting him close to your wife too, huh?"
Nanami whipped his head to where you were, and true to what Gojo said, you were indeed there, talking animatedly to his junior.
You were all smiles, and Ino was every bit as excited as you were. There was nothing remotely wrong with how you were conversing. You two looked like a pair of really, really good friends.
Ever since word of your marriage got out and became common knowledge, you've been receiving the kind of attention that Nanami wasn't sure he preferred. While he hadn't intended to keep it a secret, he certainly felt that a more private life was preferable.
But the thing was… weren't you too close with him? If it were up to him, Ino could've had at least two steps back. What were you discussing anyway?
"You're a lax husband, Nanamin, heh," Gojo whistled, totally grinning because he won this fight. "I know you probably think it's harmless, but a puppy is still a dog, you know~"
A puppy... is what?
That night, that phrase was what going through in his mind over and over as he chugged down his drinks.
No way, no way... It must have been because he had too much to drink. He couldn't possibly!
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The next time he felt that unpleasant feeling, it was on one night, at the comfort of your home.
Both of you had just finished watching a movie, still lounging on the sofa. You were blissfully humming, texting away on your phone at—Nanami looked at the clock—11 p.m.
Now, now, he wasn't one who would be checking your phone or such, but he couldn't deny the curiosity within him, because you weren't usually texting anyone this late at night.
"Hehe~" suddenly, you giggled and Nanami glanced at you in wonder. You seemed to be having fun.
Who... are you texting?
Despite telling himself he wouldn't meddle in your affairs, he gruffly cleared his throat. "Dear, it's late."
"Oh?" you whipped your head to him. "Oh, yeah..."
You were genuinely confused, your husband was folding his face as if he was sour of something. "Kento? What's wrong?"
But suddenly, his face lit up into a smile, kind of forced though. "Ah, nothing..." And suddenly he lifted you up from the sofa, making you almost yelp as you dropped your phone and wrapped your arms around his neck. "Time for bed."
However, what you didn't realize was that your phone's screen lit up just as the sender replied to your message, and Nanami caught a glimpse of it.
Ino.
A puppy is still a dog, you know~
The heck?
"Kento?" you asked again, and he immediately turned to you, unable to read the message. Still, his mind was reeling in many ways, and when he looked into your innocent, round eyes, suddenly he clicked his tongue, eyes slitting in dissatisfaction.
"Time for bed, dear."
Long story short, that night, your husband was somehow a little more aggressive than usual... even as he fondled you ever so softly at the end.
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The third time, Nanami had enough.
He had just finished a mission when he got that call from Ino, informing him that you were at a clinic after nearly passing out.
Out of anyone else... how could you not call him first?!
He may be vexed, but worry was what clouded his mind the most. You were almost five months pregnant now, and to have this happening to you—
He walked in to find you lying on the small bed, your eyes lighting up when you saw him. "Kento..."
"What happened to you? Why didn't you call me?" his voice was rough, and your smile fell. You felt him gripping your hand tightly. "How can you—"
Ino, sensing his apprehension, suddenly intervened, "Uh, Nanami-san, it's not—"
Nanami turned to him sharply, causing him to gulp.
"We were... in a bakery when Y/N-san suddenly felt faint," the younger man explained. "Please don't be too hard on her."
"And why are you with my wife in broad daylight?"
"Kento, it's not what it looks like!" you squeezed his hand urgently. "We were just... trying to find a cake, you know..."
"...what?"
And that day, everything Nanami thought he knew was turned on its axis. Perhaps, if he wasn't thinking too much—if Gojo's words hadn't taken his mind, he wouldn't jump into conclusions this easily.
Your first wedding anniversary was just in a couple of weeks, and you had enlisted in Ino's help to find this one bakery that he swore sold only the best goods. Your texts to each other were solely about that—nothing more, nothing less.
"Aww, Kento~" you cooed as Nanami helped you into your shared bed once you got back home. "You got jealous, it's cute, and I'm happy~"
He huffed. "I was not jealous."
"Ehh, didn't look like that to me though~"
"Listen," he said, taking hold of your shoulders once he had seated you on the bed, looking straight into your eyes. "From now on, whatever you do... you have to contact me first, alright?"
"Oh—?"
"When you need something, when you don't feel well, when you feel like you might be in some kind of danger..." his tone was serious, emphasizing each word. "You have to reach out to me first. You don't go to Ino, Gojo, or anyone else—me. You go to me. I'm your husband, and I intend to fulfill that role well for you."
And he placed a hand on your tummy, gently caressing it. "And of course the father role for the baby too."
You clamped up, totally speechless. This unexpected development made your heart soar with a heap of giddiness.
"Yes!" Your smile was so wide and radiant that Nanami was sure he had started to blush too. Then you flung yourself at him, wrapping your arms around his neck in a hug. "And you know... you're already the best husband and soon-to-be father ever! So you don't have anything to worry about, okay?"
Ah, how nice. Nanami chuckled as he placed his hand on the small of your back.
"Mhm, and from now on, I'll take charge of our anniversary. You only have to take it easy, alright?"
And when you giggled, he thought having you in his embrace like this was enough to satisfy him—after all, he was a simple man.
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Epilogue
"I know even Nanami gets jealous! Heh, heh, heh~"
Gojo laughed crisply, and Shoko snorted as they listened to Ino recount the story, with the latter scratching his head uncomfortably.
"I really didn't mean anything, and now I feel kinda bad," the younger man said, his head dropping. "Nanami-san seemed upset too..."
"Not many things can get under his skin," Shoko remarked. "I really thought he'd be more rational, but having an expecting wife must've taken quite a toll on him too."
"Nah, don't find more excuses, Shoko! Now is time to pay up~!"
As Shoko grumbled and Ino was lost in his own thoughts, a loud cough suddenly echoed behind them.
"Gojo-san... Ieiri-san..." Nanami leveled his unamused gaze on them, his glasses glinting in the light, causing the two gulp. "What are you two doing?"
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leviismybby · 7 months
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How the aot veterans notice that you and Levi are secretly an item...
Erwin
Let's be honest, he knew it even before you two got together. Erwin is a very observing man, hardly anything that is going on in the headquarters can get past him. The first time he noticed that something was up was when Levi started to butt in while he was doing the plans for expeditions, always sneakily trying to put you in the safest position possible. It was always "Name isn't skilled enough to be here" or "She would do better if you put her over here". Another thing he noticed is that you two started to attend meetings late with some lame excuse, he just dismissed it but enjoyed how much you both struggled to keep the act up.
However one day you two don't show up to work at all, spending all day having "fun" in Levi's room and the excuses Erwin heard the next almost made him laugh. "And where were you two?" He asked as you and Levi entered his office, his eyebrow raised. "We were busy." Levi says but he knows that it's not enough. "I was giving her private training all day yesterday." Erwin nods, not believing a single word. "Is that so? And why didn't you inform me about this?" Levi scoffs, he knows he shouldn't lie to Erwin but he can't just say that you two were fucking like rabbits the whole day yesterday. "I thought that it wasn't important." Erwin sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose at Levi's words. "For Ymir's sake just say that you two were having sex and stop with this nonsense." Your mouth drops right open at the commander's words, a slight blush creeping on your cheeks meanwhile Levi scoffs at Erwin. Guess he did not have to lie to his superior officer anymore, the cat was out of the bag anyway.
Hange
It was their number-one entertainment besides spending the whole day doing titan research. They noticed it mostly because of Levi and how his behavior would change around you. Little things like, how often he sat next to you, how close the two of you would stand to each other anytime you were next to one another. One of the biggest giveaways was Levi's hand on your lower back which suggested that the two of you were already intimate with one another. They saw you once brush a fur off his uniform jacket, that was where Hange got their confirmation. For the next few weeks, they noticed even more, on one occasion, you had your hand resting on his thigh while you two were sitting down. It took everything in them not to bug you or Levi about it that is, until they saw love bites on your neck, they couldn't help but look at your neck and that's when they had to say something. "Damn name. Someone is getting it good huh?" You start to cough at their words and Levi looks up from his tea. "What are you talking about?" Hange snickers. "Your neck, Levi isn't going easy on you is he?" "Shut the fuck up four-eyes."
Miche
He is the one who keeps his nose out of everyone's business but even he couldn't help but feel intrigued when he noticed that Levi had your scent on him one morning. "Hmm.." He would hum, finding it strange just how strong your smell on Levi was. So he waited to see if you would smell like Levi too and he got his opportunity when you sat next to him in the mass hall at dinner. He side-eyes you, you indeed had Levi's cologne on you. "Mhh..." He hums again and looks between you and Levi. "So do you two use the same shampoo and soap or?" Miche asks, looking at your reactions. "What are you japping about?" Levi asks, already annoyed that Miche is asking such a thing. "Don't play me for a fool. You two smell like each other. Why is that?" You and Levi stay quiet and the silence is enough for Miche. "Ah, I see..." He can't help but nod in approval. "Well good luck. At least know we know where Levi is taking his stress out."
Nanaba
Now....she downright catches you two making out and it was by pure accident. She borrowed a shirt from you and wanted to return it so you told her to just bring it to your room when she had the time. Bad idea. Levi was sitting on your bed, you on his lap as you kissed passionately. His hands were rubbing your back under your shirt, you moaned softly against his lips. Levi's hands move to your hips and he grinds you on top of him, you get the message, and just as you are about to pull your shirt over your head when. "Name here is your shirt back- oh..." Nanaba stood in the doorway, her eyes going wide as she saw the position you two were in. It took a few seconds to register what happened but Levi spoke before you. "Fucking...fuck off. Can't you see we are busy?" He says, his voice harsh, his hands still on your hips. Nanaba chuckles. "Alright, alright, keep on....yeah. And use protection" "Out!" Levi yells and Nanaba smiles before closing the door behind her. "....I forgot to lock the door..." You try not to laugh at the situation when you see Levi's annoyed face. "Whatever. Now let's get back to what we were starting." You smile as he resumes kissing you.
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cheapshrimpysheep · 7 months
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Meaningful Kiss
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SUMMARY: Would they make Public Displays of Affection? If not, are they protective instead? And how do they show you how much they truly love you through their kisses?
CHARACTERS: OB students (Riddle, Leona, Azul, Jamil, Vil, Idia & Malleus)
TAGS: Bullet Points; Fluff; GN Reader; Established Relationship, Kissing, Flirting, Slightly Suggestive(?)
WORD COUNT: An average of 300 words per character.
COMMENTS: This has been a WIP for so long that I don't even remember how I got the idea to write it. And in my case, being a WIP for a long time means that I wrote one part and then went on to write something else and ended up forgetting about this one for a long time. 😅 But now I've finished it.
I hope you enjoy 💋
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CONTEXT: You two are in an established relationship already.
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Riddle is not really the PDA type. The most he would do with you in public could be walk arm in arm like you were royalty. In terms of kisses, a kiss on the back of your hand or, at the most, on your cheek.
When the two of you are alone on a normal day, he will probably be working on his student and Housewarden duties. But whenever you tell him he should take a break, he'll get up, sit next to you and hug you, like you're a charger.
If you're relaxing together, he’ll be reading a book with one arm around you. Either around your shoulders or around your waist, which you told him you like the most. He’ll also laying his head on your shoulder.
The most meaningful kisses are, of course, the kisses on your lips. He's not the type to kiss you on the lips just like a "good morning" thing. These kisses are always sweet and lovely. His hands would be on your cheeks to caress them.
He needs you, but his kisses aren't needy. They are the caring type. You are his precious rose. In contrast to his strict self, the way he shows you that he loves you is through soft affection and care.
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A relationship with Leona Kingscholar comes with your rights and duties. Some of your rights: He will buy you things; you’re allowed to pet his ears; he will be your protector and you can sleep with him in his comfy bed and have breakfast in bed (he ordered someone to bring it to you two)
Some of your duties: let him use you as a pillow (be it your thighs in the greenhouse or your chest in bed.); don't be too annoying to him; dealing with his “smugness” on a daily basis and being his and his alone, the same way he's yours.
He's kinda into PDA, but more in the sense of telling anyone who might look at you with interest that you're his. Or anyone who looks down on you that if they do the slightest thing against you they will have to suffer at his claws. If the other person is a friend of yours, he'll let it go.
He has at least two types of kisses. The first is the “make out” kisses. When you're alone and he wants you (if you want him at the time too of course), he would give you deep kisses, kiss your neck and run his hands over you. Either he would make you sit on his lap our make you lie down with him.
His real meaningful kisses are the second ones. The "lazy" kisses. The first ones are linked to his pride. These second ones are much more affectionate. Usually happen when he's still sleepy, like when he just woke up from a good nap. He may lazily put his arms around you and kiss your cheek, neck, or shoulder gently. This is perhaps the most vulnerable state he will let you see. And so it will only happen in private.
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Azul is also not very adept at PDA, but he is still capable of putting an arm around you and kissing your cheek to show how well he takes care of you.
He's already quite charming and pleasant with his potential clients, so with you it's not much different in public. The only difference is that with you it's genuine.
Do I need to say that dating him is like dating a Mafia Boss? AKA: Nobody disrespects my loved ones, unless they want a certain head in their beds when they wake up. (reference to The Godfather)
Being alone with him on a normal day would probably be being with him in his VIP room at Mostro Lounge. You're sitting on one of the couches while he's dealing with his paperwork. He’s probably the type that likes to be teased a little. So, when you see that he is no longer that attentive to the papers, go up to him, play with his hair, kiss his cheek, that will put him in the mood for you.
He’s the opposite of Leona. The kisses he usually gives you are sweet and charming like him. Because that's the side of him he want to show you the most. He'll kiss your cheek and lips affectionately. Let you sit on his lap. The side he most wants to show you is the confident and caring side. The one who shows you that you can trust him and that he will take care of you.
His most meaningful kiss is the opposite. The one related to his needy side. He shows you his most vulnerable side when he is the one who needs you. And that's what everything he does shows you. His kisses, his hugs, his begging look, all screaming “I need you! Please don’t leave me.”
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Jamil is completely against PDA! He doesn't like to stand out or draw attention and PDA always do that to the people involved. He won't hold your hand or kiss you. To the point where no one knows if you're even dating or not.
The only way he would show his affection for you in public is if that is a way to protect you. If someone looks down on you and he feels that that persons can be a threat to you, he will show that he is an even greater threat to them. In these moments, his protective side is stronger. He is Kalim's protector by obligation, but yours by free will.
It's when you're alone that he'll make up for his lack of affection of the day. On a normal day, you would be alone in the kitchen. He would probably be cooking for Kalim, but making something for you two as well. He’ll let you taste things as he cooks. He feels more relaxed when he's with you and even more so when you hug him.
When you're relaxing together, he would spoil you. Give you soft and sweet kisses. Pet your head and play with your hair. Give you massages and feed you things like grapes or small snacks. Or even taking the first mouthful of food he made for you to your mouth and seeing your delighted face.
The most meaningful gestures of affection he shows you are related to his most lustful side (lust for power) when you are the one spoiling him. The one moment in his life where he is no longer the servant, but the master. This time, he kisses your lips, your neck and everything he's entitled to. He tends not to show his feelings but with you he will show how much he loves you and how much he wants you.
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In reality, Vil neither likes nor dislikes PDA. He's kind of indifferent to it. The only reason he doesn't do it with you is because it would have bad consequences for both of you for his work as an actor and model. The most he can do is walk hand in hand with you.
Even though he doesn't show it much in public, everyone will know that you two are dating. He'll make sure of it, even if it's just information on the internet or him straight out saying it. On the one hand to protect you, because only an idiot would try to mess with Vil Schoenheit's partner. On the other hand to discourage anyone who has the slightest interest in you. “Honey, they’re with me. Do you really think you can even get to my heels? So, don't bother them.”
The only possible problem for you is that he's going to be more strict now that you're dating. From the outside it looks like he can be mean and demanding with you. But the truth is, he wants you to look your best so people know why he fell in love with you. He wants others to see on the outside how beautiful you are on the inside.
But of course, sometimes it's too much and you'll challenge him. Be stubborn and carefree. The best part? He's so into it! Your way of teasing each other.
He kisses you every now and then when you're alone. But when you put him on this mood, all his affection mix with boldness intensifies. Oh, of course, you wanted him to remind you what the reward is for listening to him. The answer is: appreciating you with the rest of his senses, sensual kisses on your lips, jaw, neck and shoulders; his hands running over your body, him delighting in your wearing the perfume he made for you. He'll show you how beautiful you are to him.
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PDA is not even an option! There is no way! Na-a! Listen, Idia loves you, really, he promises BUT going with you to places where couples usually go is already a lot and holding hands is the absolute most he can do. IF that even happens.
He wouldn’t be the jealous type. If someone shows an interest in you, at least they have good taste. But if someone looks down on you or goes so far as to disrespect you, then he goes from 0 to 100. Do these worms know he can hack them? exposing things that can completely ruin their lives until the day they pass through the gates of the underworld? Ortho can help protect you in the meantime.
Since he is a 0 to 100 guy, his kisses are the same. His "0" kisses are lazy. Mainly light, on your shoulder and neck, because you would be sitting on his lap, chest to chest, while he plays on his PC and you on your phone on his back. He also gives you casual "hi" and "bye" kisses on the lips.
Then there is his "100" kisses. Those are the real meaningful kisses, the "I love you" kisses. They are passionate but kind. Because loving you is different for loving a game, it's like he found his balance. they are not needy, but appreciative, the real embodiment of "OMG, I LOVE YOU SO MUCH!" He also becomes bolder as he feels comfortable with you. He loves to tease you until he makes you shut him up with a kiss. The stronger your relationship is, the more daring and smug he will be.
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Malleus is quite indifferent to PDA. However, he is not the type to initiate the exchange of affection, but he is the type to reciprocate it. He won't kiss or hug you out of nowhere. But if you kiss or hug him, he will definitely reciprocate.
And he's going to be extremely casual about it. I mean, it's two lovers interacting with each other. As young humans would say: What's the big deal? However, he still distinguishes between the affection he gives you in public and the affection he gives you in private.
In public, his hugs are polite, and his kisses are light but loving.
In private, what he wants most is simply to be with you. He loves it when you sit on his lap and he cuddles you, and he likes it even more when you cuddle him back. He maintains his composure quite well, but you know that just your kisses on his checks already melt him inside.
His regular kisses in privet are sweet, loving, showing you that you are the most precious thing in his life. And very recurrent. He may not be the type to initiate the exchange of affection in public, but he certainly is in private.
All his kisses are meaningful, but the most meaningful of all are the one he gives you on your lips while smiling. The kind of kiss he can't stop himself from giving you. You may not even notice when they happen, because you are simply being yourself.
He feels the need to kiss you passionately when you do something that reminds him of why he fell in love with you. The moments when you do something that may seem simple, but for him it is something extraordinary. And if you don't realize at first how incredible that small gesture can be for him, it only makes you more charming.
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If you would like to read more from me, you can find it in my pinned post: INDEX
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leclerc-hs · 3 months
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ex's and oh's - CL16
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pairing: ex!charles leclerc x fem!reader summary: in which you and your ex-boyfriend are in complicated territory OR your ex fucks you in the drivers seat of his car warnings: 18+, SMUT under the cut, badly translated french (pls correct me), not proofread!!!! word count: 2.4k author's note: ok I just want to sincerely apologize for my long absence on here!!! i know you’ve been waiting for me to finish this for a while now LOL but I've been insanely busy balancing life with two jobs lol. So I'm going to leave this here. I can honestly say it's not my best work and I apologize for that but I really wanted to give y'all something in the mean time. I have a bunch of drafts I plan to work on whenever I get the chance. Love you all!! pls forgive me and don't forget to leave me some comments and thoughts xoxo
THERE WAS NOTHING that could’ve prepared you for this fight. You weren’t drunk, as promised. Although you weren’t sober either. 
You and Charles were...complicated. Exes but…. still, something more. You would always be something more. Your history stretched back almost forever, and that alone made it challenging to stay apart from each other.
There was a point in time when the aftermath of your breakup made it impossible for both of you to share the same space. It invariably led to bitter arguments over seemingly trivial matters. One such instance was during a movie night with your group of friends when you showed up in a sweatshirt that was far too big for your body, obvious that it wasn’t your own. Charles simmered with silent resentment in the corner until he could no longer contain it. The memory etched vividly in your mind, recalling the knots in your stomach throughout the night, feeling the intense burn of Charles’ gaze upon you. He didn’t cast a single glance at the movie that evening.
“Who’s fucking sweatshirt is that?”
“Already fucking other people, hm?”
As you slid into the familiar supple leather seats of his Ferrari, you felt the warmth of the car hug you like a blanket, providing much relief from the contrast of the cold air outside. In the process of slipping into his car, your skirt had ridden up higher than Charles would’ve preferred, your panties nearly exposed if it weren’t for the sheer tights providing more coverage. Did you really go out dressed like that? He felt his hands grip the steering wheel tighter than normal as a waft of your perfume enveloped the car. 
“Did you have fun?” His tone was neutral, but his body posture was tense. He barely turned his head to check if you placed your seat belt on before peeling out from the curb at a speed much too fast.
Sober you would’ve caught onto his attitude almost immediately. But tipsy you, thought nothing of it. 
“Oh Charlie!” You exasperated, the click of your seatbelt filling the car as the radio was turned on the lowest possible volume. “It was so fun!” 
He dropped one of his hands from the wheel, bringing his hand to rub the scruff of his unshaven jaw, as a deep sigh falls past his lips. He was annoyed—more than annoyed. The sole fact that you left him unanswered for hours wasn’t his only issue. What had his muscles all tight and the permanent frown on his face was the images of one of your guy friends being way too close to you. Too close for Charles liking. It was the same guy that his friends had briefly mentioned weeks ago on his boat. 
“Cha, l’aimes-tu toujours?”  Do you still love her? His friends sat around the table; half-eaten food left on their plates. He didn’t answer the question immediately. But everyone knew, subconsciously, that he did.
“Elle et Nick été proches récemment,” Her and Nick have been close lately. The phrase alone made Charles choke on his water. In that moment, he thanked the lord for the sunglasses covering his widened eyes. The burn in his chest began simmering as the conversation continued.
“Oui, ne sont-ils pas partis ensemble l’autre soir?” Yeah, didn’t they leave together the other night?
He couldn’t blame his friends for the discussion. They didn’t know that you two were still in complicated territory. Everyone always figured you two would rekindle, but it’s been so long, no one knew if it would happen anymore.
So, although Charles felt like the air was being sucked out of his lungs, he plastered a big smile on his face while throwing his arm around the back of the chair beside him. “Nick, hm?”
He made a genuine effort to control his anger. Honestly, he really did try. However, as you persisted in discussing the night, particularly when the name ��Nick’ slipped past your lips, he couldn’t help but lose his composure just a little bit.
His voice took on a lethal edge as he maneuvered the car to the side of the desolate road. The act of driving demanded attention, but his mind was a whirlwind of a million thoughts. He was consumed by anger, it oozed from every pore of his skin as he scoffed and turned to confront you. Your eyes were already fixated on him, and his gaze instantly met yours.
“A-t-il touché à toi?” Did he touch you? His voice rumbled like a low growl, and the green in his eyes was so deep and intense that it masked their actual color, making it nearly impossible to discern the green hue. But you memorized those eyes. His eyes. You were familiar with every nuance of shade that adorned them. His breath was slow and even as he awaited your answer.
The idea drove him insane—the notion of another man laying his hands on you. And even worse, you wanting another man’s hands on you.
For a moment, you found yourself taken aback, only to fully comprehend his tense posture and the sharpness in his tone. Suppressing any inclination to react visibly, you wrestled to maintain a neutral expression, ensuring your lips didn’t betray a hint of a smirk at his jealousy. You didn’t even need to ask who he was. 
“Et est-ce que cela aurait de l’importance s’il l’avait fait?” And would it matter if he did?
The fact that you didn’t need to even address who he was talking about, only caused him to spiral further. As if you were confirming that Nick is the only other option. 
The car felt increasingly smaller as the anger in Charles grew. His knee was bouncing with impatience as he clenched his jaw. Yes. Yes, it fucking mattered. He wanted to shout until his lungs gave out that it mattered. He began to lose the evenness of his breathing pattern, becoming more erratic as you didn’t answer the question.
“Dis-le-moi et nous le découvrirons,” Tell me and we’ll find out. His eyes traced your every movement as your eyes narrowed at him, a scowl forming on your lips. The lips he dreamed about almost every night. 
The silence in the car heightened, and with each passing second, you could feel your heart rate quicken. His gaze remained fixated on your face, unwilling to divert elsewhere. It was as if he were a predator, and you, his prey, captivated under the unrelenting focus of his eyes.
“What? No snarky remarks for me?” C’mon play with me. Although he felt like his chest might crack in two, he needed to mask it. Needed to be nonchalant. 
The tension lingered until you took a sharp swallow, the muscles in your neck twitching, that his eyes shifted, descending to the nape of your neck. They fixated on the subtle gleam of your collarbones, still glistening with a thin sheen of sweat from the night’s dancing. His gaze traced the gentle rise and fall of your breasts with each breath. He wanted to devour you whole.
You felt your thighs clench slightly from his pressuring gaze. He is so fucking hot. His hair in complete disarray from running his hands through it. He wore a pair of grey sweats and a black hoodie that made you want to cling your body around him as soon as you saw him.
“Y a-t-il quelque chose entre vous deux?” Is there something between you two? His patience was wearing thin. You still haven’t answered his question, and the silence was eating him alive.
You detected a subtle waver in his tone, prompting a softening in your gaze. Your hand gently reached for his face, and he allowed his head to lean ever so slightly against the palm of your hand. It was as if your touch alone had the power to appease the turmoil of anger and jealousy rising within him. 
And as much as you loved to get under his skin like he did yours sometimes. You couldn’t find it in you to provoke him. To cause him any pain. “No.”
The corner of his lips twitched up slightly as your thumb brushed against his jawline. His hands tremble when they reach for you, pulling you out of your seat and across the center console into his lap. “Est-ce que cela aurait de l’importance?” Would it matter? You repeated the question as your legs straddled him. His hands slid around your waist, resting on your backside in a tight grip, so you couldn’t move. 
His mouth formed into a hardened line, as if he forced it to show you just how serious he was when he answered. “Bien sûr que cela a de l’importance,” Of course it matters. 
“Porquoi?” Why?
“Why?” He repeats your question. Scoffing at the fact that you even had to ask him. As if you didn’t already know why.
You suck in a sharp breath as soon as his warm tongue meets with the nape of your neck, trailing hot and wet kisses up until his lips meet yours for a moment before pulling away. 
“Mon coeur t’appartient.” My heart is yours. There was no questioning in his words. “Il a toujours été tien.” It’s always been yours. As those words hung in the air, your breath caught. You love this man. You love this man with every fiber of your being. 
His fingers gripped onto your thighs with an almost bruising intensity, as if he needed to confirm your presence by feeling you in his hands, ensuring you weren’t a figment of his imagination. His nails traced along the thin fabric at the apex of your thigh, before digging them in and tearing them open instantly. You let out an audible moan as his fingers found immediate solace to the damp spot on your underwear. Of course, you were already wet just by looking at him.
“Est-ce que tu m’aimes?” Do you love me? He questioned, adding slight pressure to your cotton covered clit. 
You moaned in delight at the contact but did not answer his question. It drove him mad.
His fingers slipped past your underwear, shoving them to the side, and slipping his fingers into your heated core. His fingers curled, hitting the spot you needed him most just right. Your back arched, barely grazing the horn of the steering wheel. Your hands were frantic, reaching for the waistband of his grey sweats as Charles lifted in hips off his seat to help you.
“Oh fuck,” You moaned out loud. The pace of Charles’ fingers had you careening forward with a cry, before he pulled them out of you completely, leaving you shouting “No!”.
“Relax cherie,” He clicked his tongue before pulling your chest flush with his, raising you up an inch to slide his cock right into you. He groaned as your pussy clenched tightly around him, squeezing him so tight he could barely focus on anything else. He held you down against him, letting neither of you move. 
It wasn’t until you fully sat, completely full of him, that he rips the buttons of your shirt open, revealing a lacy ensemble across your chest. He traces the tip of his finger along cup of your breast and says, “Did you wear this on purpose, hm?”
You shook your head, wiggling your hips with a groan. You needed to move, needed to feel the force of his cock into you, but he wouldn’t let you. He just held your hips down as if he was waiting for something.
"You feel so good," He groans. "Squeezing me so tight."
“Cha, please.” You begged, getting agitated at the lack of movement.
“Est-ce que tu m’aimes?” Do you love me? He repeats again. A grin stretched across his features at your obvious struggle. The fact that you needed his cock this badly, had him only growing harder. 
You bit your lip as Charles’ fingers sprawled across your neck in a tight grip, pulling your face to his. Close enough that your noses were touching.
“Réponds, et je suis tout à toi.” Answer, and I’m all yours.
“Est-ce que tu m’aimes?” Do you love me?
You don’t know what held you back from answering before. Because you did. He knew you did. He just needed to hear the words from your lips. Needed the reassurance that this was more than a quick fuck to you.
“Oui!” Yes! You half-shouted, eyes blown wide with need. “I will always love you!”
His hand released your hips, giving you the immediate go-ahead. You wasted no time, working yourself over his cock, moans eliciting from the both of you almost instantly. His hands slid to cup your ass, controlling your movements as he urges you to move faster.
“Mon dieu,” Charles groaned, his fingers dipping into the cup of your lacy ensemble, rolling your nipples between his index finger and thumb. “Je t’aime,” I love you.
The mere utterance of those words had you instinctively squeezing his cock with an intensified fervor, bringing you perilously close to the brink of ecstasy. A sly smirk played on his lips, a silent acknowledgment of the effect his declaration had on you.
You moved your hips faster, the bounce of your breasts had Charles in a trance before he brought his eyes back to your face, looking you deep in the eyes. “Je t’aime,” He muttered again, bringing his lips to your mouth, swallowing your moans as if they were the oxygen he needed to breathe. “C’mon, give it to me.” He begged, thrusting his hips upward into you as much as he could, eyes rolling to the back of his head until you both reach that point of ecstasy you both needed.
His face was bright red, cheeks flushed, as you worked yourself over him in a hurried pace. His sweatshirt no doubt, making him feel like a furnace, as sweat forms near his eyebrow. His eyes were wild, unsure where to look until they met with your eyes. His cock twitching inside of you from the clench of your pussy on him, and the gaze of your eyes.
“Je t’aime!” You shouted, releasing all over him and falling forward in exhaustion onto Charles chest. 
Charles groaned hotly into your ear, his release catching him completely off guard due to the words you uttered. You could hear his heart pounding in his chest as you rested against it. 
“Mon Coeur est à toi.” My heart is yours. His fingers caressed the ends of your hair behind your back. The both of you made no attempts to move.
“Mon Coeur est à toi.” My heart is yours. You repeat back to him, pressing a soft kiss to his lips.
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appocalipse · 2 months
Text
that guy ⊹ steve harrington
summary: After he's been to yet another failed date with yet another random pretty girl, Steve Harrington, your best friend, stops by at the diner your family owns for a late-night chat, same as he'd done a thousand times before. Steve is totally unaware of how much he's hurting you with his endless parade of dates, because after all — the two of you are only friends and nothing more, right? It's not like you have any secret feelings for him… | 2.6k words
── ࣪˖ ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ──
The moment Steve steps through the glass doors of the diner, you wonder, for about the millionth time that month alone, what is it that you've done so wrong to deserve this kind of punishment.
It's Friday night, and on Friday nights, Steve Harrington goes on dates. It's just like clockwork, really: he meets a pretty girl, thinks she's the one, takes her out on a date, realizes quickly enough that she isn't quite what he was looking for, then comes here after having dropped her back home to sulk with you, in the diner that your family runs, still clad in the outfit he'd chosen especially for his failed date.
To be honest, he never looks sad, per se — more like disappointed. Frustrated, maybe.
You watch as he weaves around tables occupied by laughing friends, past booths filled with couples sharing desserts, then slides into a seat in front of you at the bar. Steve sits down with an exhausted sigh, ruffling up his hair before shooting you a tired smile.
"Hi."
You don't look up from where you're polishing the counter. "Bad date again?"
"Not even close. She talked about horses non-stop."
A quiet laugh slips past your lips despite yourself, and finally, you tear your gaze off the dark wooden surface of the counter to look up at him; he's got this pleased little smile on his face, the corners of his eyes crinkled ever so slightly in the way they always do whenever he succeeds at making you laugh, even if just a little.
How are you supposed to keep acting like nothing's wrong when he looks at you like that?
You clear your throat awkwardly and make yourself busy stacking clean glasses next to the coffee machine.
"So...not the one, I take it?"
Steve leans forward against the counter and props his head up with his hand, sighing deeply.
"I'm starting to think she won't ever show up," he says quietly, running his other hand through his hair. You chance another glance at him and note how genuinely worried he looks. It breaks your heart almost as much as it annoys you. "What is it that's wrong with me, huh? I just don't get it."
"Nothing is wrong with you."
"You don't need to be nice to me. We've been friends since forever, remember?"
The word 'friends' makes you wince a little bit inside, but you hide the reaction behind a neutral frown. "Do you think there's something wrong with me? Because I haven't found the one yet either, you know."
Steve's expression softens as he looks at you, and once again you feel that horrible twinge in your stomach that you wish would just stop already.
"It's different. I mean—you're not actively trying to find someone." He reaches out to pull one of the half-melted mints out from the glass bowl on the counter and pops it into his mouth with a shrug. "I go out looking for her and she just doesn't come. If she even exists, that is."
"She does."
"Well, thanks for the vote of confidence, but I wouldn't hold my breath. God, why am I such an idiot, y'know?" Steve slumps over the counter with a groan, burying his face into his crossed arms. "My love life is a trainwreck."
"At least you have one."
He glances up at you curiously and lifts an eyebrow. "What does that mean?"
"Nothing. Forget it. Do you want some pie?"
You're not about to tell him what you've only admitted to yourself mere months ago — that you're actually hopelessly, madly, stupidly in love with him, and that you have been ever since the two of you were just dumb kids racing around your parents' diner.
What makes it even worse is that you had no idea your feelings went that deep until Steve started going on these dates of his again. Before then, everything was normal — you met up every weekend and binged on candy, watched bad movies on your couch, drove around town together blasting The Clash on his BMW's speakers...it was good.
Until it wasn't.
"Wait, c'mon, you can't just leave me hanging like that," Steve presses. He shifts a little on his stool to better face you, then gestures at you with his hands. "You've clearly got something you wanna say, so, like—hit me. Lay it on me."
"Nothing. I'm just saying...at least you're trying, you know," you say carefully, measuring each word before speaking them. "And at least you're the one doing the rejecting. Could be worse."
Steve's eyebrows rise high up on his forehead and he looks at you incredulously. "Whoa, wait—are you trying to tell me you've been rejected?"
You busy yourself by filling two tall glasses with soda, then slide one to his side of the counter and keep the other for yourself. "Uh...kind of, yeah. But it's fine."
"But who the hell would even do that?" he blurts out. There's anger in his voice all of a sudden, a defensive fire in his eyes that makes you feel as if someone has punched you in the gut. "To you? You're like, the nicest person on the planet, and super pretty to boot. That's just—that's crazy!"
Your heart gives a violent little jump in your chest. He thinks you're pretty. Steve Harrington thinks you're pretty.
Pretty as a friend, you correct yourself immediately, and sigh as you sip your drink. Of course, it's nothing more than that — just meaningless words spoken in a moment of unthinking kindness.
"Seriously, who?" he presses on. "Give me a name. I'll fight him."
"You mean like you fought Jonathan Byers?" you smile behind your glass, looking at him from over its rim.
Steve looks embarrassed at the memory and drops his gaze for a second or two before meeting your eyes again with a playful little smile of his own. "Different situation, okay, but that's not the point. So? Who's the guy?"
"You...don't know him," you hedge.
"It's Hawkins. I know the stray cats here by name."
"Fine, well, even if you did know him, it doesn't matter. He didn't reject me, exactly...not really."
Steve frowns a little. "Okay, you're gonna have to start making sense now. This is hurting my head."
The funny thing is, he actually looks confused, as if he can't possibly fathom the idea of someone rejecting you. It's sweet, really — way too sweet for your liking, especially when you know fully well he doesn't see you in the way you'd want him to.
You lower your gaze to avoid his and instead focus on drawing random shapes on the counter with your index finger, where tiny droplets of condensation from your glass have pooled up on the dark wood. "I mean, I never really told him how I felt. Not directly. It just…never happened."
"Oh. Well, then how do you even know if he feels the same way?" he asks you, looking rather doubtful.
You steal another glance at him and almost regret it instantly. His eyes are trained on your face, patient and attentive like you're the only thing worth watching in the world. It makes you feel horribly small and selfish and guilty, because after all, what right do you have to want him when he so clearly wants someone else?
You feel like you could cry. You might, if you don't distract yourself with something fast enough.
"I just know. Do you want some pie? I'll go get you some pie."
Without waiting for a response, you rush off to the kitchen even though there's plenty of pies sitting on the display counter at the bar, and you make a beeline straight for the back exit.
The alley behind the diner is blissfully empty as usual, just a lonely dumpster and a handful of sad-looking shrubs and weeds peeking out from under the concrete.
No, you aren't going to cry.
This is stupid.
You press your back against the rough brick wall of the diner and breathe in deep the warm night air, then exhale slowly as you count to ten in your head.
When the door opens behind you and the diner's familiar chatter and clatter of cutlery spill into the alley, you wince, mentally cursing yourself for being so goddamn weak. You should have known better.
You don't have to look up to know that it's him.
"Are you hiding from me?" Steve's voice comes, quiet and curious and maybe just a little bit hurt, even.
"I got...suddenly nauseous," you explain weakly, still refusing to look up and meet his eyes.
There's a long stretch of silence, and you feel Steve move closer to you until he's leaning against the wall by your side. You finally look up and find him smiling, this gentle, amused little thing that makes your traitorous heart skip a beat.
"You look just fine to me."
You stare up at the sky, head against the wall. "I thought I was gonna throw up."
He's still watching you, you can tell; you're keenly aware of his eyes on you, so much so that your skin prickles at the attention. "No, you didn't."
"No, I didn't," you admit with a sigh, and turn your head to finally look at him. He's got this little half-smile on his lips, the very same one you fell for years ago, and you curse yourself silently for never learning how to let him go. Really let him go.
"Hey. Listen. You don't have to tell me, okay?" Steve says gently, pushing himself off the wall to step closer to you. He brings his hand up to your face and tucks a loose lock of hair behind your ear, letting his fingertips linger on the edge of your jaw for the briefest of moments, just long enough for you to wonder whether he knows what he's doing to you.
You don't dare to move. You're afraid of breaking whatever spell has seemingly come over him.
"I should've never asked. That was selfish."
"Forget it," you say.
He's standing close now, close enough that you have to tilt your chin up to be able to look up at him properly. There's a strange kind of tension in his eyes, something dark and unsure and tentative, and his gaze darts down to your lips just the slightest bit.
You're fairly sure you're just seeing what you want to see, your foolish heart playing tricks on you. But you panic nonetheless, feeling a sudden, irrational fear that if he moves any closer, he'll realize the truth — that you're a liar and a coward, that you've been harboring these feelings of yours for him for years.
"I should—I should go. Back inside," you mutter, pointing vaguely at the door with your thumb. "In there."
"Sure, yeah. Okay. In there," he echoes, not making a single move to leave. "Not out here."
"Yup. Exactly. In there."
"So you said."
"Yep."
The wall of the diner is digging into your spine uncomfortably, and your mouth is dry, and your knees feel weak, and your stomach is doing somersaults, and the longer he stares at you with those eyes of his the more you feel like you're burning from the inside out and—
He's not moving. All he does is look at you, really look at you, as if it's the first time he's really looked, as if he's seeing something that wasn't there before.
"Okay, so—"
You try to push past him towards the door, but Steve grabs your arm, making you stop dead in your tracks. He lets go as soon as you look up at him, lifting his hand in front of him in an apologetic gesture.
"Sorry. I'm sorry," he says. He swallows hard and rubs his palm on the front of his jeans, a nervous little habit you think he's always had. He runs his hand through his hair, mussing up the carefully gelled strands, and it's probably the first time you've ever seen him look so flustered.
He laughs nervously and gestures at the ground with his hands as he speaks. "Look, this is just—this is just crazy, okay, but I think I, uh, maybe sort of realized something."
You blink at him, not quite certain you're hearing him correctly.
"Realized what?" you ask, the words barely more than a whisper.
Steve clears his throat and nods at you, seemingly pleased that you've finally spoken. "Yeah, well, this is stupid, but you know how you're always telling me to listen to my gut?"
"You're not making a whole lot of sense right now, Steve."
"Just bear with me for a sec, okay? This is like, totally new to me." He holds his palms up, and you notice his hands are shaking a little. "I just need a minute, alright?"
He breathes in deep and exhales slowly, then shoots you an apologetic look.
"Sorry, this is just...really weird," he confesses. "Weirdly real."
"You're freaking me out," you tell him, but Steve only smiles at you.
"Maybe I should just show you. Because, I mean, what if I'm wrong? That'd be terrible, obviously."
"Steve."
"Yeah, I know, but hear me out, okay?" he says quickly, and takes another step closer. You stand your ground this time, if only because you don't trust yourself to actually move without your legs giving out. "So, look. Here's the thing. You're, like—you're one of the most important people in my life. You've been there for me when nobody else was, and I...you mean a lot to me."
"Steve—"
"Shut up, you're ruining the moment."
He takes another step forward until he's crowding you against the wall, hand coming to rest next to your head on the brick. He's close, so close that you can smell the scent of his cologne and shampoo and laundry detergent, and if you were to lean in even the slightest bit, your faces would bump.
Steve is a little out of breath, his lips parted ever so slightly. And he's still looking at you with that strange, searching expression of his.
"Is this okay?" he whispers.
"I don't—what?"
Your voice catches in your throat. There's no room for doubt in his eyes now, not even the tiniest, slightest sliver of uncertainty left.
"This," Steve murmurs.
He tilts his head to the side a little and leans in until you're sure your noses are touching, and you feel your eyes slip closed in anticipation.
"Is this okay?" he repeats in a whisper. "Please tell me I'm not crazy."
"I think I am."
His lips brush yours. It feels like an accident, doesn't last long enough to be anything but a dream. You can still taste the faint, sweet trace of sugar and mint on your tongue when he pulls away, though.
"Just to be clear," Steve whispers, his fingers brushing lightly over the skin of your neck, tracing invisible lines that make you shiver, "am I the guy from earlier? The one you like?"
You don't have it in you to deny it anymore.
"Yes. It's you."
A wide grin breaks out across his face, and suddenly he's everywhere; he cups your face in his hands, pressing eager, fervent kisses along the line of your jaw, trailing hot and open-mouthed down the side of your neck.
You giggle helplessly, grabbing Steve by his collar to pull him away from you and up to your eye level. He's breathing just as heavily as you are, his hair messy and his eyes bright.
"How do you do this to me, huh?" he pants, kissing your forehead, the tip of your nose, the corner of your mouth. "You just—you just completely knock me out."
A pleasant little thrill rushes up your spine at that.
"Oh yeah?"
"Completely."
You kiss him this time.
2K notes · View notes
empresskylo · 9 months
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cod men headcanons in an age gap relationship?
i have such a thing for age gaps...i blame society. also, i’m only including ghost, price, and alejandro because the other men are too young imo. ik some of their ages are debatable, so in my mind, ghost is at least 30.
Ghost
♡ honestly, i don't think my guy really gives a shit if there is an age difference between you two. like his morals are all skewed, and the last thing he'd waste time worrying about would be a *legal* age gap.
♡ being younger than him would just make his nicknames for you that much more adorable. he likes to add the words 'little' and 'tiny' in front of a lot of the things he calls you. "little mouse" "little dove" "tiny girl/boy"
♡ regardless of how much experience you have (with relationships, sex, etc) he will always act like he knows more than you. he can find himself treating you like you’re so innocent and new to everything--even if you do the same line of work as him, i.e. killing people. and it can definitely annoy you.
♡ it doesn’t matter how many people you’ve been with or how many people you’ve killed; no matter what, he knows more than you. and honestly, even tho it can annoy you sometimes, him being so dominant is just super hot.
♡ “simon, i know how to do it” you whined, as he wrapped his arms around you, showing you how to properly use a sniper. you were used to so many other guns, but not snipers. “mhm,” he mocked, stepping away from you. when you shot the gun, you missed your target by quite a few feet. your cheeks warmed and you hesitated before looking back at simon. his arms were crossed over his chest as he eyed you. you could tell he had a smug smile plastered across his face under his mask. he did not need his ego inflated any more than it already was.
Price
♡ price was definitely concerned when he first realized he had feelings for you. he knew you were of age, but that didn't stop the odd feeling he got when he was around you--like he was taking advantage of you.
♡ and his way of flirting was to act like your father… he thought he was being nice, showing you how to do stuff, always having your back. but my god was he appalled when you were frustrated with him one day after he keep hounding you about something.
♡ “Ok, dad! i get it!” “what did you just call me?” You heard the anger in his tone. shit, you were getting too comfortable around your captain, you should not have teased him like that. “S-sorry, captain. I didn’t mean—“ He cut you off, clearly agitated for a different reason than you being smart with him. “is that how you view me, doll? like a father?” if you said yes, price would know he needed to back off. he could take a hint. “No… I… You just wouldn’t get off my back. I was just trying to be funny.” You felt so embarrassed as you explained yourself. Price got into your space and grabbed your chin in his hand, titling your head up to look at him. you gulped. “you wanna call me endearments? go ahead. but don’t ever call me that again.” he looked at you a moment longer before turning away. suddenly fueled with adrenaline, you called after him. “what about daddy?” Price spun around quicker than you could register before he was pushing you backward, his hand tight in your hair as he yanked your head back to look up at him again with a gasp. “fuckin’ brat,” he muttered, a sly smile crossing his lips.
♡ as much as price truly does not care about your sexual history, he’d be lying if he said it didn’t turn him on a bit knowing how much more innocent you were than him. you could have slept with a bunch of people for all he cared, but knowing you were that much younger than him, he knew he had more experience than you regardless. and something about that sparked a flame in his chest. he had a thing for wanting to show you the ropes.. but he definitely felt guilty about thinking that way. he wouldn’t have been any less attracted to you knowing you slept with a hundred other people. he knew you being “innocent” shouldn’t turn him on. but it did…
♡ he is very possessive of you. doesn’t like the idea of other men thinking they have a chance with you. but he can get a bit self-conscious whenever a younger man approaches you or checks you out. “you really wanna be with an old man like me?” he’d ask. as confident as he is, in the beginning of your relationship, being so much older than you made him second guess himself. shouldn’t you want to be with someone your own age? “jesus, price. you’re only 37. you act like you’re knocking on hell's door.” he’d start tickling you for your bratty remark, but it definitely placated some of his nerves.
♡ and since he has more experience dating wise, he’d say “i love you” pretty early on. he’s not dating you thinking it’s some fling. he’s serious about you. and he’s lived long enough to know when he’s in love. and he’s not afraid to say it.
♡ you were saying goodbye to price as he went off on a mission. he’d only be gone a few days, but you’d hate every minute of it. he kissed you, his mustache tickling your lip. “i love you,” he murmured when he pulled away. he smirked as he appraised your stunned face. and he’d turn and leave before you had a chance to process his words, knowing you wouldn’t be able to get them out of your head the whole time he was gone.
Alejandro
♡ definitely feels bad at first, like he’s taking advantage of you. he reminds you all the time to tell him if you’re uncomfortable. that you can say no. he just doesn’t want you to feel used.
♡ as he gets more confident in the way you want him, he starts to use it against you. same as ghost, he mocks you as if you’re so innocent and inexperienced. “see, this is what they call a—“ “Yes, Ale. I know. I’m the one who showed you that.” resulting in a cheeky wink from him.
♡ during training, he embarrassed you in front of the others. when you messed up a move, he made a big deal showing you how to execute it properly even though you’ve been in the army for years now and knew how to do it in your sleep. he liked to see the way you’d get flustered with all the other guys around as he teased you.
♡ he definitely exudes a dominant side and it definitely comes out around you. he wants to do everything for you. wants to carry shit that’s too heavy for you. he wants to be your ride. the first person you call when you need help. he wants to be your everything.
♡ he also acts a little more dominant in bed than he would if he was with someone his age. something about you looking up at him with your sweet little doe-eyes sparked a dominating need within him. he takes control. he leads. he tells you what to do. he barks out commands. he punishes you for being bratty. he takes control in every sense of the word. The only time you can really hold anything over him is when he’s getting close to finishing. you’ll be able to get him to say whatever you want him to, his mind lost in a haze, wanting nothing more than to find the release you’re about to give him. “Please,” he begged. you smiled as you hovered above him. you sank back down on him and continued your motions, and he quickly climaxed. his hands squeezed your hips as he groaned. “fuckin’ perfect.”
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hoshigray · 3 months
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hey!! I love you works=) Can I request a fem!chubby(optional)reader x gojo,where gojo is her mean roommate and after a night when he had fun with a random girl and reader couldn't sleep because of it she confront him and he shows her how much he loves-hates her (NSWF if you can,when I say love-hate I mean he loves her,but she is not afraid to attack his ego so he finds this quite annoying) I truly understand if you don't want to write and I respect your decision =) I just say to try my luck and see if you like the idea
lol well, I'm lucky to have time to indulge in this idea, so why not? hope i did this right...
𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: Gojo x roommate! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - the reader can be read as chubby or not - implied mutual feelings/pining - kissing/making out - teasing - fingering (f! receiving) - oral (f! receiving) - clitoral play (swiping and licking) - doggy style + missionary position - unprotected sex (psa: wrap it up or get tf up) - Gojo being a bit whipped for you - pet names (angel, baby, princess, sweetie) - implied usage of alcohol - mention of saliva/drool. 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 3.1k
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“God, you can be such a fucking dumbass…Who told you to drink so much?”
“Listen–hic–I was just being the life of the party. Plus, gotta impress the ladies~”
“Oh, for God’s sake, just eat your damn mocha bread.”
Lying on the living room couch with you sitting on your knees on the carpet, tending to his drunken state, was not something Satoru Gojo had planned. It was supposed to be a chill night at the club with the guys – Geto, Nanami, and Haibara – yet he somehow found his way to the dance floor and danced like a rock star, drinking like a fish from taking up all the shots bought by all the women infatuated by him. What can he say; he could never refuse the ladies, even if he doesn’t like alcohol.
However, he’ll admit he might have overdone it and puked in the club bathroom for a solid 20 minutes before his friends decided it was time to go. You opened your apartment door to your roommate being carried by Haibara and Geto, the dark-haired men apologizing for the inconvenience at the late hour after dropping their friend on the couch and leaving you to deal with the tipsy fool. 
Although, with him dealing with the raging headache and horrid acid from the vomit earlier ruining his tastebuds, Gojo would say this wasn’t all too bad. Why? Well, now he has his cute roommate to look after him like they always do.
Although he feels a bit bad that you were up to see him at this ungodly hour, watching you sitting beside him and feeding him his favorite snack to ease his subsiding intoxication made him feel warm. The little pout on your face as you break apart pieces of the mocha bread to feed into his mouth, your gorgeous eyes examining him to see if he’s okay, and your cute pajamas comprised of an oversized shirt and some shorts. If it meant being treated by you like this, the snow-haired man figured he ought to get drunk more often.
The only problem was you nagging at him like he was a child, grabbing for his hand to hold the glass of water on his own. “Drink; I don’t want you puking on my carpet.” Yup, you were his roommate, all right.
He rolled his eyes while taking a sip. “You’re supposed to be talking all sweet and slow to me here because my head’s going at sixty miles an hour. Aren’t you supposed to be sympathetic to the weak?”
You scoffed. “Oh please, you are not weak; you’re just dumb enough to drink whatever thing some pretty girl gives you.” 
“Hmph,” He puffs at you, evoking your eye to twitch. “Well, maybe I should just go back to the venue and find that pretty lady who was dancing with me all night!” He takes a bite of some more mocha bread. “I’m sure she’d be nice enough to minister to my drunk self.”
That was a lie. There was a lady he was dancing with, the same lady who hung out with the guys at the club and had a good time with them. The woman was a wild and entertaining girl, Gojo will admit. But in all aspects, she was just there; she was nothing. If anything, Gojo wished that you were there instead of her. You were busy with work, opting to sit this out and maybe go with the guys the next time. 
And although he didn’t try to argue (outside of pestering you in giving in and coming along), he couldn’t get his mind off you while he was away. You were all he could think about, wondering if you were okay or if you remembered to eat dinner. Or just imagining you being with him, wearing something nice and letting loose around his friends – around him. Fuck, just visioning him and you dancing together would’ve been such a treat and probably saved his poor liver and stomach from all the alcohol. 
Instead, he’s spending the last moments of his late-night high with you, who should be sleeping. You say to him, “Would you?”
He draws his brows upwards. “Hmm?”
“Would you go back?” he now notices the look on your face, as if you’re going back and forth with something internally. “I mean, probably not because I’m sure whoever has to deal with you can’t feed you your favorite bread.” 
He hums, taking note of your expression and your fingers playing with the edge of his plate. “Why do you ask?”
“Because Nanami called me earlier when you were getting a little too wild, like, five shots in,” The number throws the man in a whirlwind; damn, I had more than five? “And he told me you were so tipsy and touchy that you couldn’t stop asking about me. Like, ‘Where’s Y/n’ or ‘Man, I wish Y/n was here; they love this song.’” 
Did I say that? “I said that?” A curt nod is given to Gojo, and he presses his lips to a thin line. Ah, shit. 
“All I’m saying is,” you continue with a pout. “It would be pretty scummy of you to say you’d wanna hang with another woman and then turn around and worry about me, for whatever reason.” 
Sky-blue eyes observe yours downcasted to the plate with the sweet bread. He couldn’t ignore how cute you avoided his gaze — it’s what prompted him to say this: “…There is a reason.”
“Hmm?”
“I didn’t worry about you for nothing,” you watch the white-haired man bring his upper body up from the couch with his elbows. His face is now a foot away from yours, close enough for you to see the earnest glint in his eyes under the soft, warm glow of the ceiling lighting. “Nothing is for ‘whatever’ reason if it’s with you.”
Your brows furrowed together, eyes avoiding Gojo’s gaze. “What could that reason be, I wonder. You’re just saying that so I can stop being up taking care of—“You couldn’t finish that sentence; how could you when Gojo brought a hand to your chin and prompted you to look back at him? Azure eyes pierced right into yours; it made your heart skip, and your body dare not to move.
“You want me to prove you wrong?” He asks with a neutral expression, hard for you to gauge what’s on his mind. You know him; he likes to poke fun or try to get you riled up. So, this shouldn’t be any different (aside from him holding your chin).
You huff, “Go ahead.”
And it was there where you should’ve chosen your words carefully.
“Khaaa! Ohhh! G–Gojo, stop…! Y’r fingerss—Ahhaaa!”
“Aht, aht, don’t do that, angel. Open those legs up for me…Fuck, you’re so cute…Mmm”
It took you aback when Gojo stood up from the couch, took your hand, and walked you from the living room to his room. Confusion on your part turned into immediate shock when he brought you into a kiss. With wide eyes and thoughts going at a million miles per hour, you instinctively tried to brush him off you. But one kiss turned into two, and two kisses turned into three. And before you know it, you sink into the feel of his pillowy lips, a leg situating between yours while your hands come around his neck.
And the surprises don’t stop there; Gojo then hoists you up — yes, picks you up! — and brings you to his bed to continue laying his lips on you. Your shaky moans resulted from his kisses trailing from your chin to your collarbone, the humps of his lower half chafing the groin of your shorts. The twitch of your chasm happens involuntarily — how embarrassing! Especially when he distracts you by claiming your lips again so he can pull down your bottoms and panties.
And that’s how we end up here, you crying out for him as he kisses and nibbles on your ear while his fingers play with your wet folds. “—Ahahhnn!! G–Gojo, no..! Not there…Hnnfff…!”
“You say that, but you’re not letting my fingers go, huh.” He chortles before kissing your cheek, stuffing his middle finger to aid his forefinger in scraping your inner walls. The wails that escaped your lips were so unlike the stern persona he’d usually deal with; they provoked him into wanting to hear more. “Damn, didn’t know my little cute roomie could make such cute sounds. Let me hear more, ‘kay?” 
Cute!? The adjective had your cheeks increase in heat with the twitch of your southern walls clamping onto Gojo’s digits. “Hoooh! Q–Quit playing with me, Gojo; just stop going so fa—Aaahhhh!!” 
From your protest, his fingers go even faster. And worse, he sneaks his thumb to your clitoris, where he shocks your body with swipes and grinds to the delicate pearl. Too fast for you to chew on your lip to shield the creams, “Hey now, I said call me by my name.” He looks at you with flushed cheeks and soft, hooded eyes — way too late to blame the alcohol for such effects. But you can see the passion that’s burning inside those blue orbs of his. “Don’t be stubborn on me, pretty girl. What’s my name, Y/n?”
God, first cutie, now pretty girl; how many names was he gonna call you to drag you deep into your pool of embarrassment? “Haahhh, Satoru, please,” your body jerks to the jabs of his fingers hitting inside you. 
“Heh, good girl. My little angel…” Gojo kisses you again, sucking on your tongue with a teasing vigor before lifting your shirt to display your body to him in its whole form. Your breasts spill open for him to claim a nipple into his mouth for a quick suck. He then travels down your abdomen, playfully nibbling on your soft skin and flesh for you to jerk. His hands massage your inner thighs after spreading them further. 
His face then comes down to your bare cunt, blowing on it to make you squirm. “Fuck, I’ve been wanting to look at you for so long. You made such a gorgeous mess for me.” 
“Go fuck yourself, Gojo,” you peer down at him, only for him to beam with a mischievous smile. Damn, you cursed his dimples for making him look like a childish bastard!
“No thanks, I’m more interested in fucking this cute thing.” He snickers to himself before descending further in between your legs and having you gasp sharply at the feel of his lips on your slit. His tongue swishes between your folds and sucks in your leaking substances for him to savor, the wet muscle teasing its entrance of your vagina before inserting inside.
You almost choke on your spit, crying out for him to stop and trying to close your legs. But that proves worthless, Gojo’s hands holding them to your chest for him to feast on you properly. You’re forced to accept the laps of his tongue, and it has your ears ringing with the obscene sounds coming from the commotion.
“—Ohoo!! Satoru, stop!!” You bring a hand to his head to grab a tuff of his snow-white hair. It does nothing, only making him eat you out even more unsteadily.  His nose occasionally bumps into your clit, your other hand gripping the sheets. “Stooop it, I’m gonna cummm, if you keep….!”
“Go ahead, baby,” he withdraws his mouth, slipping his fingers back inside you to massage euphorically. Your eyes roll up when he licks on your clitoris. “Let’s see my pretty angel be messy for me.” 
You couldn’t prevent yourself from following his command even if you wanted to, the fingers and his wet muscle all doing their part in making sure you give in. And so you do, releasing the reins to let your orgasm overcome you, clamping onto his fingers as it pass through your body through the shocks and your erotic howls. 
And Gojo eats you up through your sensitive nerves and all, his hands not letting you writhe out of this as he stuffs his face into your cunt. Your body jolts with every passing shock until it relaxes. And even then, Gojo still carries a naughty grin when lifting his face and licking his digits. “Look at that, princess. Making my fingers all pretty.”
The display made your ears hot. “Don’t play with it like that!”
“Why, I’m gonna play with you a whole lot more, anyway,” he says while kissing your thighs. He surprises you with a bite, making you huff in surprise. “Gonna play and mark you all mine all night long.”
And he was not lying. Everything happened so fast; one moment, you’re lying on Gojo’s bed with him, eating you out until you come from his mouth two times. The next moment, your pajamas are stripped off you and thrown to the floor along with his. 
“—Noohhh!! Ohhh, fuuuck, ahh, ‘Toruuu, yer goin’ too fast…! Slow down!!”
“Hnngh! Ahhhh, easy for you to say with you gripping on me like crazy…Holy shiiiit, you feel so good…”
Now, you two in the nude are fucking like animals. The hour is way past late for noises to disrupt your neighbors, yet here you are on Gojo’s bed with your face down to the sheets and your ass propped up for him to drill his length deep inside you. He’s caged you beneath him, his strong arms on either side of you while his hips thrust into your plump ass and thighs. The sounds of the action were so raunchy to the ears, something straight from a porno.
The two of you have been going at it for about two previous rounds; your body is already sensitive and sweaty from this. You want to be tired – your mind is trying to tell you you’re exhausted. However, it’s impossible to think of anything else with Gojo hammering his dick into you like no tomorrow. Excessive come leaks from your cunt down your thighs, a white ring forming around the base of his shaft — evidence of your sexes union. 
“Ohhh Jesus, this ’s too much…Nnnphh!” The clap of your ass smacking onto Gojo’s pelvis made you sheepish, sinking your face further into the sheets to try and conceal your cries. But that’s not working when the tip of his cock grazes your velvety walls in such a precise motion that you almost choke on a sob, drool coming down your mouth. “Oh God, right there, ‘Toruuu…”
The white-haired man observes from above, examining your round ass and body jerk from his movements. Fuck, you looked so fucking sexy like this under him, wailing out from him being able to make you feel so good. It strokes his ego so badly, but that’s what happens when he’s finally proving to you how much he’s wanted your body like this. Your erotic body, your adorable mewls, and your amazingly tight cunt clenching on him as if you don’t want to let him go — it all makes his head pound, and his strokes smack on your harsher.
“Shiiiit, I’m so close…” He moans with a cold sweat that rolls down to his chin and hits the skin of your trapezius. Gojo then decides to switch things up before his evident release comes knocking. “Hey, sweetie. Let me see that pretty face of yours.”
You were already maneuvered to face him before he could finish that sentence, your front forced to be seen in his gaze. Your half-lidded orbs locked in with Gojo’s as he bucks his hips to you during missionary. Oh, what an intimate position! 
“Hic—Don’t look!” You say while putting your hands up to his face – accidentally hitting the bottom of his chin, taking him by surprise – not wanting him to see your disheveled and messy self under his observant eyes. 
But that didn’t fly by with him, immediately grabbing your wrists and pinning them down. “Oh, none of that, princess,” his face descends to brush his nose against yours. “I told you I’d prove you wrong. So, how am I supposed to do that with you hiding from me like that?”
You gulp to give him a snarky answer, “Mmmph—You’ve proven that enough!”
“I don’t think so,” he chuckles lightly; fuck, he sounds so hot. “With you, there’s never enough.” He takes your lips with him before you can say more, grinding his hips onto your squelching chasm to scrape your sensitive spots to evoke your screams to be taken from his mouth. 
Gojo then snaps his hips into you at an unsteady tempo, the rhythm too fast to comprehend and catch yourself. The rough hits of his dick so harsh and sporadic, and your mewls are muffled by his kisses. Your hands go to his back, preparing yourself for the climax that rushes back to you for the fifth time that night. 
Oh, fuck, oh my fucking God! And it hits you like a slap to the face; your exhausted body trembles for yet another crescendo to crash over you. Your legs come around to Gojo’s waist to hold on. And Gojo’s not too far from orgasming on his own; the fluttering contractions of your cunt force him to give in and spill into you once again, groaning into your wet and puffy lips. 
The two of you embrace the jolts of your bodies in union, your lips glued to his as he kisses you through it all. And he drops his sweaty body on yours, the heat between you two sticking to your skins from the contact. A hand comes to the top of your head, caressing and massaging your scalp to further your relaxed state.
Gojo breaks the kiss with a soft sound, and a string of saliva sticks to you two until it’s broken apart from his ascent. He chortles, using a thumb to wipe your mouth from spit. “Well, did I make my point?”
You send him a tired glare, sighing heavily while your finger traces his back. “More than enough, Satoru.”
He beams, the dimples returning to blind you. “Good! Because I was thinking of going for another round—“
Your lips quiver with dread at the words, grabbing for a pillow and instantly hitting him in the head with it, not caring about him exclaiming in pain from the impact.
“Hurry up and get off me, you drunk, horny bastard!!”
But one thing was definite; it wasn’t the alcohol that Gojo was drunk on — it was you.
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© 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲2024 – dividers from @/benkeibear.
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ohmygraves · 4 months
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ghost, but as your fake boyfriend.
you were panicking.
your mother had called earlier, asking if you could come home for a few days. apparently, your brother had returned from overseas, and she called to let you know that every single member of your family would be there. a small family reunion, if you will. of course, she expected you to show up too, perhaps bring that boyfriend of yours you always told them about.
which was a problem because one, you don't have a boyfriend, and two, you have lied to your family for years and now it's come to bite you in the ass.
you didn't even know why you did it in the first place. perhaps the constant pestering and questions about "when will you get married?" is starting to bother you, especially when it came from so many of your relatives, wondering if you'd settle down already instead of being out there in danger all the time. perhaps you just want them to leave you alone and stop worrying about your wellbeing. after all, you're an adult, and it's just annoying to hear the same thing over and over again every single time when you went home for christmas.
so, you created this narrative of a "boyfriend", who you'd talk about when your parents called. a boyfriend who is tall, handsome, and loves you for who you are. a boyfriend who you'd live with and maybe plan on marrying too in the future. a boyfriend that is so much of a textbook nice guy that your family would approve of even if it sounds too good to be true.
you're not sure who to ask. soap would be your best bet, but he would be away on a mission at that date. which was unfortunate, he seemed really excited to play fake boyfriend with you. gaz just ran out of leave for this month, so he's out too. price is too old, your family would question it.
that leaves just one person...
"lt, can you do me a favor? please, just this once."
ghost turned towards you, leaning back and letting you explain. you told him that you need him to be your fake boyfriend for a family event.
unsurprisingly, he was very quick to stand up and leave you alone, not wanting to deal with your bullshit. still, you catch up to him, trying to convince him with whatever it is you could offer.
after a few rounds of convincing, tailing him for three days and nights, constantly pestering him, and some offers of the finest whiskey and whatever he wanted, ghost finally relented. it didn't take long for the two of you to fly back to your hometown two days before the family reunion, the two of you taking a week of leave from the base with very little trouble. you assumed that ghost had something to do with it.
before you arrived, you had to give him a rundown on what to expect, what questions will be asked and how to answer them for it to make sense in the web of lies you've created. he was definitely not thrilled, telling you that he got this... whatever "this" was supposed to be. you were nervous, hoping that things will actually go well.
surprisingly, ghost did keep true to his words. walking into your childhood home, he held your waist, keeping you close to him, even would act nicer to your nosy relatives (which, of course, was not surprising when you feel his grip got tighter around you).
dinner was quite cozy, everyone seemed to enjoy his presence and kept asking you if you two will end up married. ghost said something vague that made you blush, and while it embarrassed you, it got everyone to stop talking about it.
when the crowd dissolved, you took ghost to go see your childhood bedroom, closing the door behind him as you thanked him for doing you a good favor, and that you won't forget all about this. you didn't even realize that he stepped closer to you, too absorbed in gushing how successful the night has been, pulling you close and planting a kiss on your lips. it shut you up.
"... did you just kissed me?"
"mmhm. i reckon i deserve at least that, huh love?"
"i suppose you do..."
he kissed you once more. well, at least you won't have to lie about your fake boyfriend anymore.
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itsbecomeblue · 4 months
Text
band!ellie 2 headcanons and smau
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sinopse: ellie williams is the lead singer in a band (+some texts with her).
cw: nsfw after the texts with warning! swearing, explicit, reader works in a record store and ellie's a simp, not explicit if reader is fem or masc.
part 1
☆ at first dina and jesse could NOT bring themselves to believe ellie found her girl, but then they met you.
“this shit's cringe as fuck but the way y'all act around eachother…” jesse starts and dina immediately agrees.
“yeah, she's perfect for you, el.”
“i knowwwww, i need her.” jumping like a teenage girl fr…
☆ sometimes she thinks her bandmates like you way too much.
“invite y/n to the next rehearsal too for real.” jesse says after you leave a rehearsal you went to.
“okay man i get it, she's amazing.” with an annoyed expression.
“so… invite her.” dina chuckles.
“no, i don't want any of you jumping on my girl.” but she does invite you anyway.
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☆ she's so stupid tbh, she's gonna sign girls’ tits after concerts and act all oblivious when you swerve her kisses.
☆ and swerving her is so fun istg, she's gonna try like 4 times before she's upset. UPSET! (she will go non verbal).
☆ the type to perform and glance at you like you're about to have sex right that instant (u will, after the concert tho!).
☆ she is a singer herself but turns on the tv and pretends to be the weeknd for you.
☆ she wishes she could rap… actually, no. she thinks she can.
"that was... something." you smirk and she scoffs, throwing herself on the couch she was standing on, mic in hand.
"i'm literally in my rapper era but whatever, you'll see." and you're full on laughing. "don't laugh." and you come hug her and say she's so so special.
☆ you can't open x (twitter) without seeing girls mourning your girlfriend… she's alive not single tho!
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☆ always late for everything, but she tries her best istg. you and the band are TIREDDD.
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☆ nervous about pda… but she likes it, showing everyone you're hers and she's yours.
☆ made a slideshow about how you should move into her apartment… that was kinda like:
“REASONS FRRRR 🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥💯💯💯
ALL OF THEM 🤣
we're literally soulmates so we gotta be roommates too???
countless sleepovers omg i'm crying!
i'll never be late again (kinda😬)
we can get a pet tg 😯
i'll get to listen to u sing in the shower more and you know i like hearing you and singing with you while im in the toilet or even outside the bathroom
passionate lesbian sex before sleeping, after eating, doing the dishes, the laundry ALL THE TIME
i love you the most and i want you close all the time
you love me back (i hope) so you gotta want me close too
i want you as my wife asap
think about it, thanks and please my love ❤️”
you moved in… weak mf but can anyone blame you??
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☆ loves cooking with you for friends and family when they come over. just loves being with you in general but even house chores are better with you??
☆ comes disturb see you at your job, your bosses hate her and said they were gonna stop selling their album 😒 (they actually love her).
☆ switches from your serious cool rockstar girlfriend to your silly baby girlfriend in a second.
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☆ when fans edit you, reposts them and comments under them more than on her own (she has a folder of them on tiktok)
“that's my baby so stop gawking.(jk)” “whats her @” “id repost but my gf would be jealous, shes hot asf 🤤🤤” “THAT'S MY GIRL” “creamed💔”
someone said “ellie cant handle allat” and she replied fr “true, she the one handling me 💯💢” SHE HAS NO CHILL
☆ she pays the same attention to potential hate you'd get, she will block them… don't talk about her girl.
nsfw (cw: cunnilingus [e and r!receiving], fingering [e and r!receiving]. switch!ellie!!!!).
☆ you were supposed to be in the shower but ellie saw you stripping out of your clothes and she has to ask to kiss your clit, dropping to her knees. her fingers bruising your thighs and shes eating you out as if she'd been starving. you cum but she's not satisfied yet, she pulls you down on the bedroom carpet with her "give me another one, please." hands roaming your skin ever so softly, sending shivers down your body. she asks what you want, the position, how many fingers, she just needs to please you. and now she's on top of you, pounding you with her fingers and pressing down your lower stomach because she just wants you to cum again.
☆ she's gonna be in bed with you, almost asleep asking you for kisses, then for some touches... and you end up between her legs, sloppy nasty head and some slow fingering. your lips around her clit and kissing her pussy lips and slit and your fingers in and out her pussy. she's whining and squealing, playing with her own tits and caressing ur face. you're humming against her pussy and she's clenches "let go for me, ellie..." you coo and she squirts on your mouth and fingers. soft pants leaving her lips, soon stopping with her caresses on your face as you lick her cum. you look up, hair messy against the pillow and eyes closed. "i love you..." she mutters after you clean her and lay next to her "i love you." you spoon her.
a/n: this is kinda shitty but it's for who asked for more! @kyleeservopoulos @sameenatruther @harrysslutsstuff
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olivianyx · 5 months
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OMGG I JUST GOT RESULTS WITHOUT BEATING MYSELF UP WITH ROUTINES 😭 + RANT ✨
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HEYY LUVS! I JUST WANNA SHARE MY RESULTS I MANIFESTED WITHIN 2-3 DAYS! THIS YEAR'S GONNA BE MY BEST YEAR Y'ALL ✋AND GUESS WHAT I DID? NOTHING. LITERALLY NOTHING. NUH-UH. PERIODT.
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⚠ LONG POST AHEAD, SWEARING ⚠
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WHAT I MANIFESTED:
🪄 PASSING MY FRESHMAN YEAR WITH HIGH SCORES
🪄 MY FAMILY BOUGHT A NEW APARTMENT WHICH WERE PREPARING TO MOVE IN 3 WEEKS
🪄 ME GETTING INTO THE VOID STATE 😭 AND MANIFESTED CLEAR SKIN! (DAYUM GETTING INTO THE VOID IS DEFO VERY EASY OMGG)
🪄 GETTING LESS ANXIOUS LATELY!
🪄 MY GASTRITIS AND ULCERITIS GETTING CURED
🪄 GETTING MORE COMPLIMENTS IN MY UNI!
🪄 GETTING TALLER! I WENT FROM 5'3" TO 5'7" IN 2 DAYS 😭😭
🪄 GETTING DREAMS OF ME SHIFTING TO MY WR 🥺 (ACTUALLY RESPAWNING LOL, AS THIS THING IS REALLY CONTROVERSIAL IN HERE, PLEASE DON'T GET ME CANCELLED- I'M DOING DEATHLESS RESPAWNING ✋)
🪄 MY MIND IS SURPRISINGLY CALM 😌 THERE'S STILL INTRUSIVE THOUGHTS THO (THOSE ARE ANNOYING ASS BITCHES) BUT I JUST IGNORE EM LIKE I IGNORE PEOPLE AT SCHOOL 🗿
🪄 GOT MANY CONFESSIONS TOO 😭 AND I REJECTED EM ALL, CUS I JUST WANT TO BE SINGLE FOR THE REST OF MY LIFE ✋🗿 JK
🪄 GETTING COOL CLOTHES THAT MY MOM DENIED A LOTTA TIMES! (ACTUALLY I'VE ORDERED EM BUT STILL HAVEN'T SHIPPED TO MY ADDRESS YET LOL)
🪄 MY CRUSH BECOMING CLOSE TO ME HEHE 🤭 LIKE SHE DOESN'T CARE ABOUT ME MUCH, BUT LATELY SHE'S BEEN TOO CLOSE TO ME AND ALWAYS WANNA BE WITH ME LOL, 3 DAYS BACK SHE AND I WALKED HOME TOGETHER, WHILE WE GRABBED SOME SNACKS, SPOKE ABT EACH OTHER AND ALL (I FELT LIKE BEING IN A SHOUJO MANGA 😩)
🪄 A NEW PHONE! THAT SAMSUNG GALAXY S22 😩
I MANIFESTED EVERYTHING WITHIN 3 DAYS 😭 I REALLY CAN'T BELIEVE MY EYES, JUST. 3. FUCKING. DAYS. GODDAMMIT.
HOW I DID IT:
JUST FULFILLED IT IN MY IMAGINATION
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YEP, YOU HEARD THAT RIGHT. I LIVED IN THE 4D REALITY, I NEVER GAVE A SHIT ABOUT THE 3D AT ALL. OK LEMME BREAK IT DOWN FOR Y'ALL SO JUST PAY ATTENTION FROM HERE ONWARDS.
🪄 SUPPOSE SOMETHING UNDESIRABLE OR UNFAVORABLE CIRCUMSTANCES ARE HAPPENING IN YOUR 3D. WHO'S THE CAUSE FOR THAT? YOU. 'BUT I DIDN'T IMAGINE OR THINK OF THESE 😭' BABY, YOU'RE THE SOLE CAUSE, EFFECT, AND THE SOLUTION. THERE'S NO OTHER EXPLANATION TO THIS.
🪄 AS WE ALL KNOW, 3D IS A MIRROR. RIGHT? WHATEVER YOU THINK ABOUT, YOUR ASSUMPTIONS, YOUR THOUGHTS, YOUR FEELINGS, YOUR PERSPECTIVE EVERYTHING WILL BE REFLECTED. SO WHY NOT THINK THE WAY YOU WANT SO YOU CAN EXPERIENCE THE SAME? GET IT.
🪄 IF YOU WANT TO CHANGE THE 3D, CHANGE YOUR 4D FIRST. CHANGE YOUR PERSPECTIVE TO HOW YOUR DESIRED SELF WOULD SEE THE WORLD. KEEP DWELLING IN IT. IF THE 3D SHOWS UNFAVORABLE CIRCUMSTANCES, DON'T FUCKING GET TRIGGERED. GO BACK TO YOUR IMAGINATION AND DENY YOUR SENSES.
🪄 EVERYTIME YOU SEE SOMETHING ELSE IN THE 3D, GO 'BRUHH THIS IS MY OLD STORY, I ALREADY HAVE WHAT I WANT, THIS IS JUST FAKE' AND MOVE ON. DISTRACT YOURSELF. CUS THE 3D WORLD WHICH YOU SEE IS AN ILLUSION, IT'S NOT REAL. IT'S YOUR CREATION, WHY WOULD YOU TRY TO CONTROL WHAT YOU CREATED? IT'S ALREADY IN CONTROL. YOU ONLY GOTTA REALISE YOUR GODSELF. YOU ARE THE CREATOR, NOT THE CREATION. STOP FUCKING VICTIMIZING YOURSELF.
🪄 I GET IT THAT MOST OF THE PEOPLE ARE CONFUSED BETWEEN LAW OF ASSUMPTION AND NON DUALISM. EVEN I WAS, BUT SLOWLY I REALISED THAT WE'RE ALL NOTHING. WE'RE JUST LIVING IN OUR OWN CREATIONS. VICTIMIZING OURSELVES IN OUR OWN CREATIONS. IRONIC RIGHT?
🪄 THOSE THOUGHTS, ANXIETY, FEELINGS, EMOTIONS ARE ALL IN YOUR PHYSICAL REALM. YOUR MIND, YOUR BODY, YOUR EGO EVERYTHING IS NO REAL, WE ASSUME IT TO BE. WE'RE ARE SHAPELESS, FORMLESS, WE'RE NOTHING! AND EVERYTHING AT THE SAME TIME. CUS EVERYTHING COMES DOWN TO ONE THING, I AM.
🪄 K Y'ALL MIGHT BE SUPER CONFUSED, WHAT I'M TRYNA INFUSE IN YOUR BRAINS. SO WHAT YOU DO IS, LIVE IN YOUR 4D.HOW? IMAGINATION. NO MATTER WHAT YOU SEE IN YOUR 3D, GO BACK TO YOUR IMAGINATION, AFFIRM OR VISUALISE. ANYTHING IS FINE BTW. JUST STAY IN THE STATE OF WISH FULFILLED.
🪄 STOP RELYING ON METHODS, FUCK THEM. JUST BE. DON'T TRY TO CHANGE SOMETHING WHEN YOU ALREADY HAVE THEM. JUST STOP, SURRENDER, STOP FIGHTING, STOP TRYING SO HARD WHEN YOUR ALREADY IT. SO GO LIVE IN YOUR IMAGINATION, FULLY SURRENDER. DO THINGS WHICH YOU LIKE. GO LIVE YOUR LIFE. TAKE YOUR POWER BACK.
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LIKE AREN'T YOU TIRED? TRAPPED IN YOUR OWN CREATIONS? YOU CREATED THEM, YOU HAVE THE POWER TO CHANGE WHATEVER. TELL ME HOW LONG ARE YOU GONNA LIVE THIS BULLSHIT LIFE? YOU'RE REALLY GETTING COMFORTABLE BEING UNCOMFORTABLE. SO LISTEN UP, DO WHAT YOU LOVE, AFFIRM, VISUALISE, OR DAYDREAM, ZONE OUT, WHATEVER. ALL I DID WAS DO THIS MEDITATION IN THE MORNING, WENT ABOUT MY DAY WATCHING JUJUTSU KAISEN LMAO. THEN RANDOMLY AFFIRM, LIVED IN MY 4D, NEVER PAYED ANY FUCKING ATTENTION TO MY 3D, CUS I'M GOD. I REALLY LOVE VISUALISING, SO I PUT ON A SONG AND START DAYDREAMING IN MY ROOM SMILING LIKE AN IDIOT. ALSO, I DID SATS BEFORE GOING TO BED. THAT'S IT. THAT'S ALL I DID FOR 3 FUCKING DAYS, AND GOT WHAT EVER I WANT. ALSO I MADE A CUSTOM TAPE TOO (IT'S A GENERAL SELF CONCEPT ONE) I LISTENED TO IT FOR 30 MINS AND JUST WENT ABOUT MY DAY THINKING I HAD WHATEVER I FUCKING DESIRE, CUS IT'S ALL MY CREATIONS AND I HAVE IT ALREADY. THERE'S NOTHING TO GET, IT'S ALREADY IN ME.
LUV YOU, BYE 💋
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