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#so i was like 'dude. you're going too far.'

batmanisagatewaydrug · 3 days

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heyy I have a question but I'm kinda embarrassed about it so idk?

how much of a high libido is normal for a teenager? around 15 years? because like I've been taught that puberty makes you horny, but all everyone was always talking and making jokes about was cus males going through that, and I'm not a cis dude

I was just wondering because like it feels wrong sometimes to think about it that much even though it feels good to but like -I also don't really know how to say this- it also feels like I'm using sexual thoughts and fantasies and stuff to distract myself and to repress the stuff going on in my life? like I can feel my brain switch from "I'm gonna have a breakdown" to "how about horny?" in a couple of seconds and idk if that's normal? or healthy for that matter lol

idk what to say have a nice day and any advice is appreciated<3

(do you do named anons? if so, can I be fox anon?)

hi fox anon,

I'm actually going to direct you to an ask from a shrimp anon, where we had a little chat about hypersexuality and how to know if your sex drive is too high. (spoiler alert: if you're not actively ruining your own life in the pursuit of sex, it's probably not!)

there are definitely the most stereotypes about cis teenage boys being horny, but it's very normal for people with any gender identity, genitalia, and hormones to be extremely interested in sex during their teen years. (and of course, it's also normal not to be interested at all!) this is the part of your life where everybody's bodies are reaching sexual maturity, and it's extremely EXTREMELY normal to have a burning curiosity to go along with that.

it's also very normal to have a lot of Large emotions and feel like they can switch on a dime; that's the power of Hormones, babey! you're experiencing a lot of internal hormonal situations and external social stresses for the first time, and your brain is learning how to process all that.

I have a friend who's only a few months old, so when he gets overwhelmed he doesn't know how to handle that and usually just cries about it because he's brand new and doesn't have any other coping mechanisms. of course, you have a lot more experience than a guy who's brand new and you know way more coping mechanisms than he does, but you're in a somewhat similar position of having to handle a LOT of new shit and not knowing how to cope with it yet. sometimes what's going to happen is just pivoting hard from one big feeling to another - in some cases, from the pits of despair straight to horny jail.

is it possible to become overly reliant on sexual stimulation as a form of self-soothing? sure, of course. it's possible to become overly reliant on anything; absolutely any positive behavior can become detrimental if it's performed to extremity. again, read that ask I linked!

but pivoting from a breakdown to jacking off isn't a bad idea. it can help you calm down, can be a great transition into a nap or sleep, and pops off a little burst of dopamine and oxytocin that's probably very badly needed if you're on the verge of a breakdown. of course it's ideal to have other healthy outlets for when you're feeling bad - making art or doing something else with your hands, doing some enjoyable physical activity, talking with friends or family, keeping a journal - but as one part of a larger diet of support and coping mechanism, horny behavior is great, normal, and very healthy.

#sex edventures 2024

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mosylufanfic · 1 day

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If you're still doing it, Casual Encounters for the fic titles?

For this title, nonny, I'm absolutely still doing it.

I love the thought of Jyn being the queen of one-night stands. It's just easier that way, you know? She tried to be the girlfriend type in high school but they always got so pouty and whiny when she didn't call them back. She has no desire to call them back. They're going to make her do shit like go to the movies or out to dinner before they get down to business.

Look, she is what she is, she's not going to apologize for it. She's busy. Scholarships don't win themselves, and while she knows her foster dads' employment at Yavin University will take care of most of her tuition, she's determined not to be beholden for the rest of it.

When she gets into college, she stops trading numbers. By her junior year, she stops trading names. Stops them when they try. Yavin University is big enough that she doesn't have to see anybody twice if she doesn't want to.

Bodhi doesn't like it, mostly because he's got some dude friend in his grad program that he thinks would be just perfect for her. "He's smart, he's funny, he can keep up with you - I just think if you met him, you'd like him."

"You're a romantic," Jyn says, and both of them know it's not a compliment.

Anyway, there's this guy that keeps turning up. Dark eyes, tall and lean, fine with no names. Just her type. He even had his own condoms the first time they hooked up in the backyard of a frat party.

She breaks her own no-repeat rule the next time she sees him, at a bar. He buys her a drink, then fingerbangs her in the alley. She goes down on him in his car. It's only polite, if you think about it.

It gets to be a thing. Sequential one-night stands, catching each other at parties and bars and street fairs and one time a visiting professor's lecture. (They did wait until the lecture was done. It was really good.)

They still don't know each others' names. Sometimes she thinks he'd like to ask.

Sometimes she'd thinks she'd like to tell him.

He doesn't sleep over, of course. God, of course not. The one day he wakes up in her bed was because they ran into each other at the library in the wee hours, both of them pulling near-all-nighters to finish midterm projects.

"Stress release?" he offers.

One of her other rules is that she never fucks in the university library because if Chirrut or Baze or one of their co-workers ever caught her, it would be unspeakably awkward. Which is why she impulsively says, "My place isn't far."

She wakes up before him and waits to feel that recoiling sensation of somebody being too close. She doesn't. That's weird.

She gets up and goes to make coffee. A key scrapes in the lock, and Bodhi staggers in, yawning.

"I've got someone here," she says once she finishes teasing him about his walk of shame. "He might want the shower."

Bodhi grunts, guzzling coffee, just as Jyn's bedroom door opens. She's head-deep in the fridge, trying to determine if the yogurt is worth the risk, so she just hears her multiple-one-night-stand's voice, ringing with shock. "Bodhi?"

Bodhi says, "Cassian?!"

(Of course, inspired by @andorerso's Rebelcaptain Smut Month. Does this count?)

#Jyn Erso #Cassian Andor #rebelcaptain #ask game #okay this got really long #but it was fun!#thanks nonny #star wars

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liviusofpella · 2 days

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some thoughts and theories on abh so far

Both Raphael and Mikael's touch is said to be cold while David's is hot

If anyone has any theories about who the guys' superiors could be, please share because I have no idea.

I'm 1000% certain that the guys don't really live at the agency.

The mansion possessed a most unusual trait: if its residents weren't actively seeking you out, it was nearly impossible to find them yourself."

Moreover, I think MC was going somewhere and mentioned again that the house was empty.

"Our father went missing. I believe he's dead" - this actually makes me think the father they talk about isn't God.

This could be a red herring but the man who approaches MC at the club could be involved in the murder. His glassy eyes ("but he didn't look drunk") are definitely a hint and his hot-tempered personality make him very suspicious. "He looked around quiclkly," his outfit is rather out of place at this club, he's pushy and insistent. I found some info that glassy eyes could mean lifeless eyes and when you look at this dude, it's.......plausible (kinda kidding, kinda idk. He just looks suspicious)

I believe they all don't truly grasp the concept of emotions. Mikael doesn't really care about the clients + don't understand the concept of grief, David has no empaty for the deceased. Idk about Cas, and Raphael could be the one able to understand emotions (or he's just good at pretending and/or he feels the emotions his interlocutors do)

As for MC - I think the guys had sth to do with her patient going beserk and her ending up at Astrea. It's just a hunch, I don't have any proof, but they obviously need her for something, and I wouldn't be surprised if Mikael already knew she lost her medical licence.

Mikael:

Cheeky if you pay attention - even during the interview in ch 1 he laughs at MC's poor attempt of touching him under a really weak excuse (can't blame her though); "a playful spark flashed in his eyes," "sly smile" so he's not as stuck up as it looks at the first glance lol

Physically: a picture of Renaissance beauty, it is constantly stated he's very graceful and charismatic. MC also says he's very fit and has prominent muscles (which is surprising "for someone in his position); "stately figure"; statue chiseled out of marble".

He's Not a doctor, but yet heals. In ch. 4 he 1000% sucked the poison out of MC body, and I believe so not only because of what he says but also from the way his eyes look. He also says "I've never had a chance to heal mental wounds" which implies he's been healing for a long time.

David:

Could be far reaching and I formulate this theory mainly because I've been watching too much Supernatural lately, but I believe he's some type of a demon.

He's very confident and he "never loses" as a lawyer, so he's either very very good or able to influence people somehow.

MC obviously didn't end up in Astrea by accident, and she's the MC so she must be somehow special, so it makes me think David constantly calling her a witch isn't without a reason. Ch. 3: "don't admit to anyone in the village that you're a witch, either." Could be just a joke though.

Also the fact he was extremely friendly towards MC is suspicious, almost as if he tried to influence her to stay at all cost.

"It's impossible to get enough of me"

After the murder: "he's like a doctor who has seen death so many times that he hardly feels it anymore"

We learn his father lost his mind because he sold his soul. I've yet to come to any conclusions on this ngl.

Raphael:

I think he takes people's emotions onto himself and makes emotions come to the surface in people. Ch. 3: "Raphael approched the man, and the man's eyes filled with tears."

General:

Felonia emphasising that the guys treat MC differently, kindly and friendly. During the meeting in chapter 3, Mikael is cold and impartial when he talks to Fel

David: "You're so hash, Mikael"

"Only constant effort can attract his attention and make him believe that you deserve another chance" so the question is - who's he?

Felonia: "They're not villains, but they're not exactly heroes either. They have a mission and will go to any lengths necessary to complete it"

Mikael knows about the nightmares MC has and the dream we saw at the beginning of the book is definitely an answer to one of the big mysteries of the book, imo we'll learn what it means at the end of season 1 and it'll be the first supernatural thing we witness (although I'm not entirely sure because of how the last chapter ended)

Mikael: "Everyone's terribly worried about you" - why? They're not that close. They're worried because she's crucial to their plan.

My take is that Raph and Mikael are (arch)angels. Possibly fallen angels or at least angels who fucked up and are being punished. I'm not sure about Raphael, but if Mikael is the Angel Michael then he's the God's commander - his strict, controlled character, the fact he's the director of the agency then it kind of makes sense he;s so harsh to Felonia who seems to have seriously fucked up? He doesn't like disobedience.

Quora (don't judge me lol): "His power is believed to come from his closeness to God and his unwavering commitment to righteousness and the defeat of evil."

"The sword and shield are used today to represent a cutting of cords or energies that no longer serve and protecting us from harm. Michael can help in healing and repairing our energies where trauma, grief, past lives or karmic debts are holding us back from our true potential in this life. He will then work with Archangel Raphael to replace the negative energy, emotions, worries, doubts, physical ailments with positive vibrations. Michael will cleanse your entire being both the physical and spiritual."

@agattthaa mentioned that God is kind only to humans, he's not a good father to angels because he isn't present or forgiving to them; God forgives humans, but when angels make mistakes they fall from grace. Just a food for thought.

I'm curious about others' thoughts and theories. I just wanted to put all this together to sort it in my head as well.

Tagging @raleigh-edward 🫧

#i didnt include cassiel because i didnt take his scenes so there are people better suited to analyse him lol #over all I D K #i just f e e l that mikael and raphael are archangels #david is a massive enigma to me #also im not an expert on biblical lore so if anythkngs wrong thats on me #rc abh #romance club #rc mikael #rc raphael #rc david

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tiredofthehumanlife · 2 days

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Blaise Zabini hcs

flavor: fluffy and smutish but they're separated so you won't get jump scared

fluffy

literally liked you since 2cend year

saw you in herbology and was like “I may be 13 but that's the love of my life”

all his friends were goofing around with him bc he was too anxious to actually talk to you

He never even made eye contact with you he was too scared

and then you just appeared next to his seat at dinner and handed him a letter

you asked him out in your letter in the best way a second-year student can and he was bullied so hard by his friends bc he was flustered 24/7

Eventually, as your one-month anniversary turned into 6 and then a year his friends cared less and less

you guys just kept going and they just got accustomed to you two just being together it was like “Where are our parents” and then they found you both sitting in the commonroom just sitting in silence together and they're like “Aha we’ve found them”

like you've become a package deal

you guys are the healthiest relationship on the entire planet

you're perfect

he's your number one supporter no matter what you could kill a man and he'd be like “Yeah baby whatever you want”

you could walk out wearing only a belt and he'd be like “Oh fuck them up do a spin hell yeah you look bomb oh shit hell yeah baby”

He will listen to you talking about your favorite flavor of candle wax for years he just loves you soooooooo much

rates your burps you guys have been together since you were 13 years old you grew together and so it's just like nothing is gross anymore bc like “and?”

so far you have not gotten a 10 but you're working on it

you have gotten a 9.25 though so you are getting there

You guys are so stable in your relationship that even if someone does flirt with you or him the other is just like “Okay? And?”’ Like Draco will be like “Your boyfriend got flirted with today” and you're like “Alright. Hey also did you do that essay or like what?”

biter

he's a tad rabid you'll both be sitting next to each other minding your own business and he'll just lean over and bite your shoulder

and when you're like ? he's like “It's cuteness aggression, it's natural. Read a book every now and then”

once you saw how much he enjoyed quidditch and so you tried out, broke your arm, and decided not to do sports anymore

Blaise was super stressed out the entire time you were in the hospital wing he pacing constantly and muttering

He makes your breakfast plate every morning while you're passed out on his shoulder

you have so many inside jokes that have you two almost pissing yourself from laughter and everyone else is just glaring at you

impromptu dancing in sync is a bit frequent between you two

you'll get stuck in a hallway doing that “Oh they'll go that way so I should go this way” but you both go in the same direction thing and he'll just pull you in and you both waltz out of the situation before just walking off in opposite directions like nothing happened

he's literally perfect the best boy in the whole world

He listens to all your rants all the way through and takes notes

one time Draco asked if Blaise knew anything about your friends and Blaise pulled out one of those corkboards with the red yarn

he's like perposterly good at history of magic

massive lover of study dates and nap dates

your grades skyrocket every time you ask for his help stg

spoils you rotten his mother is a breadwinner dude she bathes in 100-dollar bills

also he is a total mommas boy he sends his mom a letter every single day

when you did meet her you were like “Aha so that's where his good looks come from” Pansy heavily thirsted over her she was actively asking Blaise how old she was like “Mm that's not that big of an age difference” and Blaise was like “You're not rich enough babe cut your losses and end with dignity”

you guys are passing letters

he will be writing out love poems and handing them to you while stealing a piece of bacon off your plate

he's so deeply in love with you and has been for so long that he just like gives no shits anymore

yeah he gets all wimpy and lovey-dovey around you of course he would what are talking about dude

if anyone is like “Dude you're pussywhipped” or whatevs yk ppl hate Simps yadaa yada hell just be like “Yeah? and? which one of us in in the committed relationship again?”

god he is so-

he's just such a loverboy

he remembers every anniversary, holiday, birthday, and the day you first made eye contact with him, every time there's something important going on with you he remembers

he has your friends' birthdays memorized better than you do

his job is trophy husband and that's about as far as he goes(I'm lying he's so DTDTUYUgfADXZaSFDFZjcADFAGYUA ZXDJADHJKYJWAEMQC DFSIN)

he's so funny You're giggling all the time

nsfw(ish)

tits guy unless you don't have tits then he's all over your ass dude

this one time you guys were relaxing in his dorm as one does and Draco walked in and you were straight up just shirtless laying back against Blaise and he was just holding your tits (he's self-soothing its fine) and you guys were just like “hey:)” “hi:) how was your test” Draco just turned around and left

if he ever sees you laying down on your stomach he's flinging himself to you as fast as he can so he can use your ass as his pillow

you think he's weird though when he does that so you're like “Dude what if I fart” and he's like “Why do you have to rain on my parade?” And he continues to do it bc like that's his home<3

every time you walk past him he slaps your ass

you threatened to stab him once because he did it out of habit in front of a teacher and both got detention

he oddly talks dirty quite well however he always does it at the worst of times

You'll be mid-conversation about Enzo’s grades and he'll lean over and whisper the filthiest thing in your ear and you're just like “:/ who raised you?”

munch when he got older he went through a beard phase and shit was bleached 24/7 it was basically platinum

grabbing your ass if you breathe a little differently like the only time hell stop is if his hands are cut off

he likes leaving the door unlocked just cause “babe someone could walk in that makes it 10x more exciting” “I wish you'd shut the fuck up sometimes”

is so used to you shaking ass on him at the randomist of times he's learned how double task so he’ll fully be standing next to Lorenzo and explaining something to him while Pansy is showing you her new playlist and you find a song you like and you’re like “Where is boyfriend the shaking of ass must commenece” and he continues to explain everything to Lorenzeo while you do

#blaise zabini x you #blaise zabini x reader #blaise zabini #slytherin boys x you #slytherin boys x reader #slytherin boys #blaise x reader #blaise zabini x y/n

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allexiaah · 2 years

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Im proud of you for always standing up for yourself and your friends-no matter how much shit these ppl have tried to throw at you.

I hope they're able to one day get out of this highschool hierarchy mentality, and realize that they can't bully everyone that disagrees with them or challenges their awful behavior.

The internet has given ppl this fucked up idea that the things they say or how they treat someone online will have no form of repercussions, bcus they're protected by a username. When we know for a fact they would never say the nasty things they spew online to anyone face to face.

Being mean online isn't a personality and I would recommend they try meditating or watching a tedtalk on self improvement to maybe find some inner peace.

if a lot of ppl seem to have the same negative experience with them... gurlllll I think its time they stop projecting on to others and hold themselves accountable!

Anyway, im proud of you and I hope these ppl find a way to calm their fragile egos at the fact you want nothing to do with them!!!!

Also, they can go fuck themselves! :)

I got this last night, and I didn’t have the energy to read it all, because i was like.. 2 am and I was exhausted, but I saw the very top of it, and I knew it was a good message, and even the first little bit just made my whole night. I can’t thank you enough for sending this, because it really made me melt, and feel so much better. It makes me happy to know that there are people out there who think that maybe I didn’t fuck it all up entirely, and it makes me feel like maybe I’m not so lost on some of the worse days. It genuinely means so, so much more than I can say. Words don’t hold it. Thank you so much. Much love, anon <3

#ask #anon #so ik who this is for sure lol. but regardless #it really made my evening #and reading it in the morning made me feel so much lighter and just... better too #so from the bottom of my heart. Thank you. You're very very special to me and hearing this and realizing it was you really helped me.#Love you <3 #a million kind people are worth more than any single trashbag trying to get under my skin #i don't think I would've gotten this far by now without you dude. no joke. you and everyone else? helped keep me sane and listened to me #and you guys were shoulders to cry on when i felt like i was going crazy over it all #and like i was just some dumb sensitive kid. and maybe part of me was. but not all of it #i think without some of your advice and willingness to listen and take me seriously with everything just. god. im tearing up haha #so. love you. and thank you so much. For not just that but everything. ever #you're a dependable and lovely friend to have. you and everyone there

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herd-reject-arts · 11 months

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So I'm leaving work and something darts in front of me, maybe 10ft away, too fast for me to see what it is. Peek around the tree blocking my path and I see this

Just like... a whole ass hawk. Dude's gotta be about 1.5ft tall. Massive fucking bird. And it's just staring me straight in my soul like this, even as I try to move ahead. It didn't budge. And there's only this path back to my car unless I want to walk on a busy highway. So I have the option of Death By Raptor or Death By Truck.

So I walk in the poison ivy filled patch off the sidewalk. Guy still isn't moving. Still staring me directly in the eyes. And I do this thing when animals are behaving strangely where I'll talk to them, so I'm just like, "Hey, man. I don't know you. You don't know me. This feels really threatening. I'm just trying to get to my car, dude. Can I get some space please? You're a big fucking bird. I see those claws. You could kill me right now, but I'd appreciate if you didn't, ok?"

It didn't move until I was about 2ft away. Again: I'm as far from it as I can be without walking into the street. It clearly wasn't going to budge. I walk past, thing flies up (silent, btw. Scary) and lands on a brick wall a little further ahead

Anyway. Weird guy. Nearly shit my pants when I noticed a bird big enough to carry off a fully grown cat was just... there, staring me in the face, unwilling to move away from me, a human, something it should see as a threat. I watched behind me the whole rest of the way to my car, just in case this bird decided to help me shed this mortal coil. 10/10 experience. Super cool guy.

#not vc sorry #bird #birds #aves #raptor #hawk #red shouldered hawk #i think. might be wrong on that id #accipitriformes #birds of prey #honestly a really cool guy so close up #I'm happy i wasn't attacked. i would not want to fight a guy that big.#talons on this bird were huge. big scary.#I've never heard of large predatory birds just landing in front of people like that so i don't know what gives #it didn't catch any food or anything. just landed near me then stared me down.#I don't know a lot about bird behavior so i tried to not look back at it but still.#it also didn't look injured. seemed like a healthy bird #if anyone has any idea why this thing would act the way it did I'd love to know

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sleepypanda27 · 27 days

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Bucky's Crush

Bucky x reader

Summary: Sam is tired of Bucky not doing anything to get the girl he likes. So he helps out a bit.

Words: 710

Warnings: Cute and nervous Bucky

It was an early morning in the compound. Sam was telling Bucky some story of his adventures, but that turned into white noise when he saw you walking into the kitchen. Still in your pajama and unbrushed, messy hair. You walked to the mug cupboard and stretched, yawning.

"Want some coffee?" Bucky asked with a smile in his voice.

"Yes, please." You leaned against the kitchen island, watching Bucky intently as he made you coffee. Who knew that making coffee could be so sexy?

"Good morning, by the way." He said in a little raspy voice from sleep.

"Hi, good morning." You blushed, tucking hair behind your ear, and smiled awkwardly, hoping he didn't notice you staring at him.

"There you go." His eyes were locked with yours as he gave you a cup with steam coming from it.

"Thank you, Bucky." Inhaling the delicious scent, you thanked him.

"You're welcome, doll." He folded his arms over his chest and leaned against the counter. Subtly, his eyes traveled up and down your body, making you blush again. You went back to your room, thinking you should try to blush less in Bucky's presence.

Bucky shook his head with a smile and looked at Sam, who was staring at him. "What?"

"Seriously?"

"What?" Bucky didn't understand what was his problem.

"I was talking to you, dude."

"I heard you."

"Okay then. What was the last thing you heard?"

"Ummm...that you like seeds and breadcrumbs." Bucky shrugged.

"Ugh, just ask her out already." Sam rolled his eyes, annoyed.

"I will..." Bucky looked into the hallway you went to just seconds ago. "Someday."

Sam had arranged a movie night, making you and Bucky sit together. It was all highly suspicious because you three were the only people there.

Bucky's musky cologne mixed with the faded scent of the leather jacket he had worn earlier, lingered on his hoodie. You had to fight against the urge to just melt into your seat.

He pretended to yawn, stretching his arms in the air, and placing his arm around your shoulders, gauging your reaction. Naturally, you moved closer to his side. He had to bite his cheeks to stop the smile from turning too big.

Sam bailed pretty early, knowing that if you two were left alone, you would feel more free and open up.

After a while, you stood up, and Bucky thought 'Well, this is it, he went too far too soon.' But you only took a blanket and then returned to your seat by his side. This time, snuggling even closer to him.

His mind reeled with all kinds of different thoughts. All of them included you. He wondered did he remembered how to kiss. Can you even forget something like that? Now, he went too far and was overthinking.

You could feel and hear his relentless heartbeat, or maybe it was yours you couldn't quite tell.

You couldn't take the tension anymore. You spun around so fast that you startled both of you. Placing your hand softly on his nape, you slowly leaned closer, giving him a chance to stop this, but instead, he closed the distance. As soon as your lips met, it was like he forgot all of his previous worries.

Bucky couldn't hide the smile anymore and he didn't want to. Feeling the dog tags around his neck, you wrapped the silver chain around your fingers, tugging him to you while lying back on the couch. Which he gladly followed.

After a while, Bucky pulled away from you, looking to the side, where Sam was slowly and carefully creeping to the place where he was sitting earlier.

Noticing that he's caught, Sam stopped. "Don't mind me, I just forgot my phone. He quickly run after the phone. "Carry on." He shot you both a smile and left.

Laughing, you hid your face in your palms from embarrassment. Bucky chuckled, gently taking your hands off your face. "You are so damn cute, doll."

Now you were blushing even harder.

Bucky turned off the TV and, easily picked you up, wrapping your legs around his waist. Your squeal turned into giggles. "Where are we going?"

"To my room." He smiled, "So we can watch the movie and make out without interruption."

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky x you #bucky fluff #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes

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celestie0 · 3 months

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gojo satoru x reader | college au [18+]

kickoff ch.8 a little cottage on the countryside

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

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

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

ᰔ chapter. 8/x (probably 12)

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

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

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

☾·̩͙꙳ moodboard no.1

♬.*ﾟplaylist

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Great, thanks. How can I help you?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hey, Nobie, what’s up?”

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

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

“Boo, you whore. For what class?”

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

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

“Yeah.”

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

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

“So definite no to hang out?”

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

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

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

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

You glance at the time. 11:56am.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You sigh. “It’s complicated.”

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

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

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

–

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Who reads the newsletter?” Choso asks.

Geto nudges him with his elbow. “Dude.”

“What?”

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

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

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

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

The rest of you exchange annoyed glances at that.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

All three of you look at him dumbfounded.

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

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

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

“So…she’s with you?” the woman asks.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Where are we going?” you ask.

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

Your eyes widen. “No…I couldn’t.”

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

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

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

You’re instantly folding. “Thank you.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“But–” you start, stopping yourself.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes.”

“Positive?”

“Satoru.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I will.”

“I’m glad.”

“No peeping.”

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

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

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

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

“What?” you ask.

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

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

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

“No. I love it.”

“I’m not following.”

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

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

“Your problem,” you say.

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

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

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

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

“Why’s your stuff here?” you ask him.

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

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

“But I usually sleep on the left side.”

You blink at him.

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

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

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

“Are you su-”

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

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

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

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

“When did you sneak it in?” he asks.

“Sneak what in?”

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

You swear your heart stills a little in your chest.

“Before,” is all you say to him.

He sighs. “y/n…”

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

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

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

“I play the guitar,” he replies simply.

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

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

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

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

“That’s it? That’s the reason?”

“Mhm.”

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

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

“A girl can’t be curious?” you ask.

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

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

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

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

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

“Yours are just big,” you tell him.

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

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

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

“It’s okay,” you whisper too.

The silence settles for longer.

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

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

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

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

“Reasons.”

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

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

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

“Like…guilmon from digimon?

“Mhm.”

“You like digimon?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Hey–”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Mhm, makes sense.”

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

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

He smiles at you. “A little cottage?”

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

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

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

He nods. “You do.”

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

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

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

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

“I asked him for it.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re not bad,” is all he says.

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

“y/n,” he says, like a warning.

“I mean it,” you whisper.

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

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

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

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

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

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

–

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

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

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

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

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

“Ah, y/n! We’re over here.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“When did you graduate?” you ask.

“From UTokyo two years ago,” he says.

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

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

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

He smirks up at you. “Sure is.”

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

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

You meet his gaze. “No way.”

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

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

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

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

“Yup.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Went fine,” Kai responds.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He doesn’t deny it.

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

He sighs. “Yes.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“y/n,” he says, “that’s not fair.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Okay.”

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

“Mhm. Thanks.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You just wanted a distraction from all this pain.

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

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

➸ take me to chapter nine!

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

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fxllfaiiry · 11 months

Text

─ callin' it quits now, baby, I'm a wreck ੈ✩‧₊˚

✶ pairing: miguel o'hara x fem!reader

✶ synopsis: the aftermath of the argument with miguel.

✶ warnings: angst, hurt with comfort, occ miguel (for one scene only dw), shitty humour, one or two swear words, reader being slightly mean, mentions of death.

✶ notes: part two of "you're the sunflower" this part was originally 8k words long and i was like nope, so i had to cut it down, I'm sorry. I really hope this isn't bad ‼️

At first, you didn't quit the team.

After the blow-up with Miguel, you thought about leaving the team for good, but yet you decided to show up, hanging around for a bit before quickly leaving.

But slowly you stopped showing up altogether. The looks of pity were too much for you to handle, and frankly, you deserve an apology, you deserved better.

Every day was torture, and seeing Miguel only made it worse. No one thought this whole ordeal would go this far.

Everyone noticed the changes, you were more serious, and your usual sunshine self was gone at this point. Everyone noticed the day you stopped coming in.

You felt so lonely, sure, you had friends in your universe but yet, nothing felt the same. You sometimes wondered if they missed you or not.

It had only been a few weeks and yet it felt like months.

A part of you secretly hoped someone from the team would show up at your doorstep pleading for you to come back, but nothing.

"You'll get used to it eventually" You'd tell yourself.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

It had been two whole months since you left. Nothing felt the same without you.

"Does anyone else miss Sunflower?" Gwen said sadly. She missed your hugs, and your little girl talks with her, she missed everything about you.

"We all miss her, kid," Peter sighed. Without you, he had no one to talk to about Mayday.

"I hope she comes back soon," Miles said.

"I think she just wants space right now," Pavitr replied.

"This is all Miguel's fault y'know?" Hobie added bitterly, how dare Miguel take his friend away from him.

"Someone should talk to him, maybe if he apologizes, she'll come back." Miles was hopeful, he knew you'd come back eventually.

"Sure, kid. As if Miguel ever listens."

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Miguel on the other hand was depressed.

He'd gotten used to your presence and it felt odd without you.

He felt horrible about yelling at you but he was scared. The thought of you dying terrified him, and his way of dealing with that wasn't the best.

He thought about apologizing many times, but he didn't know how to. The last thing he wanted was to cause more damage.

"You know a simple "sorry" could fix this all right?" Lyla said, breaking him out of his trance.

"It's not that easy, Lyla." He sounded so broken to his own ears.

"Well, you gotta try, Boss."

"Sunflower used to call me that."

"You're joking, right? Wow, you really are pathetic." Lyla snorted.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Dude, you're in love with her. You are absolutely smitten."

"Lyla, that's enough-"

"No, you love her and that's why it's bothering you so much."

"I don't-"

"Nah, Lyla's right, you do love her." He turned around to see Jess standing in his office.

"Jess, not you too, and where did you come from?" Miguel groaned, he did not love you.

"The door…? Anyways, just try to fix things, the first step is you apologizing." Jess stated matter-of-factly.

Miguel thought about it for a minute, these last few weeks had been pure torture for him, Jess was right, the first step is apologizing.

"Fine, I'll do it first thing tomorrow, but I don't love her."

"Sure, whatever you say, man." Jess snickered.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

You got somewhat used to your new life. It was the same old plain routine every day. You tried to throw yourself into other things. Finding new hobbies, jobs, literally anything.

But eventually, it all started to feel okay.

Things were finally starting to look good for you.

You thought about the spider society way less and finally started living your life to the fullest.

You were moving on.

Crime fighting was easy today. You got to hang out with your friends and an old lady gave you a cheerio, which is something.

You swung around the city for a bit, enjoying the view and temporary peace.

Soon it was time for you to head back home. You climbed in through your bedroom window and quickly changed out of your suit, slipping into more comfortable clothing.

When you went downstairs to get some food, you weren't expecting to see Miguel O'Hara sitting on your couch.

"Holy shit, what are you doing here?" You scared him, because he jumped violently at the sound of your voice.

"I was here t-"

"Humiliate me further? Because I thought we were done with that." You felt bad saying that, but he deserved it.

"No, I'm here to apologize." He looked down, ashamed.

"It's a bit late for that, isn't it?" You chuckled bitterly, walking past him into the kitchen.

"Just listen to me for a second."

"I thought I was incapable of doing that." You muttered to yourself.

He got up and strode towards you, but he received no acknowledgment of his presence.

"I'm sorry for yelling at you in front of everyone; it was wrong and I shouldn't have acted so immaturely."

"Uh-huh, it's fine. You can leave now, the door's right there." You weren't buying his ridiculous apology. Even a five-year-old could do better.

"I understand you're mad, but please give me a chance." That was pretty much the last straw for you.

"I'm mad? You humiliated me in front of everyone! You made me feel like shit, you made me think I don't belong on the team! You're an asshole." You were screaming at him, taking out all the anger and sadness you felt in the past two months.

"I'm sorry." He sounded so small, so vulnerable, and for the second time in his life, he didn't know what to do.

"The best you can say is I'm sorry? At least give me a proper explanation." You scoffed, rolling your eyes.

"I'm in love with you." What?

"Right, if you're here to joke around and mock me just leave okay." You open up to him and he mocks you in return. Amazing.

"I'm being serious. I'm not mocking you or joking around, I'm in love with you. You want an explanation, so I'm giving you one." He breathed, looking at you hoping to receive some reaction. All he got was a small head tilt which he took as a sign to continue.

"The reason I yelled at you was because I was scared. I thought you were going to die and that terrified me, I've lost everything, and I don't want to lose you too. I didn't know how to handle it, so I lashed out. I truly am sorry, Sunflower." You froze trying to process everything, was he telling the truth?

"Lyla and Jess helped me realize my true feelings for you." He whispered.

When you said nothing for a few minutes he started to get scared, he was ready to get on his knees and beg for forgiveness if he had to.

"Can you… say something? Please?"

"I can't forgive you just yet." He would never admit to what happened next but he started sobbing. All this was too much, being vulnerable was an unknown feeling to him.

"Woah, wait hey, don't cry. Let me-" Before you could finish your sentence he fell to his knees, arms clutching your waist like a lifeline.

You were beyond confused, you thought this whole interaction was some sort of weird dream. Miguel O'Hara down on his knees, for you? Wow, two months ago you would've scoffed and rolled your eyes at that.

Nonetheless, you ran your fingers through his hair trying to soothe him.

"Miguel, honey, listen to me. Just because I'm not ready to forgive you now, doesn't mean I never will." His face was still squished against your midriff, and his breathing was slowly returning to normal, with a few sniffs here and there.

"So, you'll come back?" Seeing him in such a state broke your heart, you were still upset with him but were willing to give him a chance.

"Yes, I'll come back tomorrow." At that, he smiled properly for the first time in weeks.

He stayed there for a few moments, letting you comb through his hair gently, he would cherish this brief moment forever.

"I should get going then. The multiverse needs saving." He said hoarsely, standing up, he was slightly embarrassed by this side of him.

"Maybe use the door this time." He lightly chuckled at your statement, the warm feeling took over him once again.

Miguel did not want to leave, he wanted to stay here with you, but he knew that wasn't an option right now.

Before he left he had to get one last thing off his chest.

"Could you, not tel-"

"Tell anyone about this? Don't worry, this stays between us only."

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Everyone was surprised to see you back the next day.

The second you walked in, everyone was all over you, hugging you and filling you in on everything you missed. It felt good to be back.

"I'm so happy you're back," Gwen whispered, hugging you tightly.

"I'm happy to be back, Gwendy. I missed you guys so much."

"Hey quit hogging Sunflower, it's my turn to hug her now." Miles huffed impatiently.

"Me next!" Pavitr bounced enthusiastically.

"Hey, not cool. I called dibs, man." Hobie groaned.

"Hey, Sunflower, I have some new pictures of Mayday to show you." Everyone was so excited to see you again, it was chaotic, but it felt like home. They were your family.

Miguel watched the scene from afar with a smile, he was glad everything was okay now.

"So you fixed things up with her, huh?" Jess said, popping up behind him, once again taking him by surprise.

"¡Ay, coño! Jess, stop doing that."

"Sorry, not my fault you don't have a spidy sense." Jess hummed. "So, how did you get her to forgive you?"

"I have my ways."

"You got down on your knees and begged her, didn't you?"

"How did you know?" Miguel whisper-yelled. That was supposed to be a secret.

"I have my ways." Jess winked.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

In a few weeks, everything was back to normal, you were back to your old self again.

Except for the fact that you and Miguel were now closer than ever. That was new.

You were always by his side, sticking close to him and he felt comfortable around you, always relaxed in your presence.

He wasn't sure if you forgave him just yet, but he was willing to wait for as long as you needed.

He did small things to show you he cared, sometimes it was bringing you coffee, other times it was giving you your favorite flowers.

You knew he was sorry, and in your heart, you forgave him a long time back.

So, you finally decided to tell him.

You guys were in his office having lunch, he didn't like to eat out in the cafeteria. You both would usually sit in silence enjoying each other's company.

"Hey, Miguel."

"Hm?"

"I forgive you."

He raised his eyebrows in confusion taking a moment to realise what you meant. When he finally got it, his eyes widened almost comically.

"Oh, you do?" He was trying to hide his smile but failed horribly.

"I forgave you a long time back, but I just… needed some time." You nodded.

"I understand that. Thank you for giving me another chance."

"Actually, to forgive you fully, I want one thing from you." You declared, confidently.

"I'll do anything, Sunflower." He'd indeed do anything for you.

"I want you to go out on a date with me."

His brain stopped working. You were asking him out on a date.

"Miguel? Is that a yes or no?" You grew nervous at his lack of response. Did you cross boundaries? You thought he liked you.

"I would love to." You quickly beamed at his response, after months of waiting it was finally happening.

"So, how about tomorrow, at 7?" You giggled.

"Sounds perfect." He sighed, softly smiling.

He couldn't wait for tomorrow.

#📂 ‧₊˚ my works .ᐟ #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #spiderman across the spiderverse #across the spiderverse #spiderman atsv #spiderman x reader #spiderman #spiderman 2099 #spiderman 2099 x reader #oscar isaac x reader #oscar isaac #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara angst

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voidpetrova · 9 months

Text

watch your back — carl gallagher x reader

☄. *. ⋆

content warnings and genre: swearing, drunk sex, body worship, vouyerism, masturbation, squirting, dirty talk, lip is a perv, all the characters in the fic are over the legal age of consent

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

synopsis: one of the gallagher brothers is having their way with you, while one of the others can only stand by and wish it were them

✧.*

the neon lights of the alibi room flickered behind you as you stumbled down the dimly lit sidewalk, carl's arm draped over your shoulders for balance. laughter bubbled up from both of you as the alcohol in your systems worked its magic, making every step an adventure in itself. the night air was cool, a welcome relief from the warmth of the bar.

“did you see the look on kev's face when he dropped that tray?” carl slurred, his words tinged with amusement.

you stiffled your laughter, a giggle escaping your lips. “and how v nearly tackled him for it? classic.”

carl's grin widened as he gazed down at you, his eyes slightly glazed but filled with affection. “you're fucking amazing, you know that?” you leaned into him, playfully nudging his side. “only when i'm three shots and a cocktail in.”

as you reached the front door of the gallagher household, carl fumbled with the keys for a moment before finally managing to unlock it. the door swung open, revealing the familiar chaos of the home. you both stumbled inside, laughter echoing through the hallway.

“home sweet home,” carl declared, his arm still draped over your shoulders as he led you further into the house.

you both swayed slightly as you made your way to the kitchen, the room bathed in the soft glow of the overhead light. the scent of leftover takeout and a hint of spilled beer lingered in the air.

“can you get me a beer?” you slurred as you dropped down to the kitchen floor, legs spread in a manner you would have thought twice about if you were sober. carl shot you a smile, already two steps ahead of you as he waved the bottle that was already in his hand before throwing it at you. “you know me so well.”

he cackled at the way you nearly dropped the bottle, shaking his head. “dude, you're fucking wasted.” With a playful roll of your eyes, you managed to pop the cap off the beer and take a long swig, a contented sigh escaping your lips. “i'm living my best life right now.”

while your laughter grew louder, lip gallagher felt himself stirring from his sleep in the room upstairs, his curiosity piqued by the commotion. your whispers and laughter, though still playful, became a bit too raucous, the noise gradually seeping into lip's consciousness. he groaned, rubbing his eyes as he got up from the makeshift bed he'd crashed on earlier in the night. groggily, he shuffled into the kitchen, his disheveled appearance drawing no attention from you two. you hadn't even notice him there. he wanted to say something, but he froze in his tracks when he saw you with his brother.

“this is the last time i let you go out like this,” carl slurred, referring to what you were wearing. it was nothing too scandalous, but he knew he couldn't look away when your breasts were pushed up together, spilling out of your dress, the fabric outlining your ass and waist in the worst way possible. “had the nerve to beat up about 12 different guys tonight.””

your laughter bubbled up again as you playfully nudged carl, the flirtatious energy between you two palpable as you climbed into his lap, snaking your arms around his neck. “you really are my hero.” carl smirked, his fingers grazing the exposed skin of your thigh. “damn right.”

lip, still standing unnoticed in the doorway, a mixture of amusement and disbelief settling over him. the sight before him was unexpected, to say the least. he had no idea things had progressed this far between you and carl. he knew he needed to look away, but all he could do was stand there and watch. he watched the way your bare thighs hung out exposed, tits poking out from the side, your ass pressed against his brother's jeans. he swallowed his nervousness, ignoring the way his jeans tightened at the sight of you.

as the flirtatious banter and playful teasing continued to fill the air, the magnetic pull between you and carl seemed to intensify. his fingers gently traced the curve of your jaw, his touch sending shivers down your spine. you felt your breath hitch as his gaze locked onto yours, the world around you narrowing to focus solely on each other.

without a word, his lips descended towards yours, his movements slow and deliberate. the anticipation was almost unbearable, your heart pounding in your chest as your lips grew tantalizingly close. the soft warmth of his breath danced across your skin, and then, finally, his lips met yours in a gentle, lingering kiss.

the sensation was electric, a rush of warmth flooding your senses as your lips moved against his. the kiss started tenderly, as if testing the waters, but the desire between you both quickly overtook any hesitation. his fingers threaded through your hair, pulling you in closer, and your arms wound around his neck, drawing him impossibly near.

his lips were soft yet demanding, a perfect balance between urgency and gentleness. each press of his mouth against yours sent waves of heat through your body, the chemistry between you igniting like a wildfire. your lips moved in sync, a rhythm born from unspoken longing and shared attraction.

carl's kiss deepened, his tongue gently seeking entrance, and you parted your lips with a soft sigh. the taste of him was intoxicating, the mingling of desire and the faintest hint of alcohol creating a heady concoction. your tongues danced together in a sensuous exploration, a dance that felt both familiar and new.

time seemed to slow as the kiss deepened further, the world outside the kitchen fading into obscurity. the room was filled with the sounds of heavy breaths and the wet, delicious sounds of your mouths moving against each other. every touch, every sensation, seemed to reverberate through your entire being.

your fingers traced the contours of his strong jaw, the heat of his skin searing into your memory. his grip on you tightened, his hand moving from your hair to the small of your back, pulling you impossibly closer as he began to lift your dress. the intimacy of the moment was overwhelming, a combination of pent-up desire and the freedom that came with the intoxicating mix of alcohol and desire. lip was still watching from the sidelines—of course, he wasn't watching his brother. he was watching you, the tightness in his boxers waking him up fully.

“take it off, princess,” carl snarled into your mouth, slurring his words ever so slightly. “take the dress off for daddy.” lip mentally cursed himself as he watched, only able to beg the man above to bring this to a halt. he wished that you wouldn't comply, so that he could look away and retreat back to his room, but when he heard you giggle, he knew there was no going back.

you pulled the dress off your head, discarding it onto the floor, leaving you in nothing but a bra and thong. carl groaned at the sight of you, feeling the way his jeans only grew tighter and tighter, but he wasn't the only one losing his cool.

from the sidelines, lip whispered a quiet “fuck,” under his breath as he admired your curves, all of you. you were the most gorgeous thing he'd ever seen, and he couldn't do much about it. the only thing he could do was quietly pull his pajama bottoms down, along with his boxers. he quietly hissed at the cool air caressing his bare cock, but he couldn't resist himself. he needed you to take care of his urges.

“all mine,” carl groaned as he pulled you in for another aggressive kiss. he groped your tits with a force that was bound to bruise you, exploring your mouth with his tongue. your bra came off in an instant, bare tits now free to hang right under his chin. he switched positions, with him now practically on top of you, but your back pressed to the kitchen drawers. “need you so fucking bad.”

lip watched you from an amazing angle, his spit-slicked hand stroking his cock in slow, agonizing motions. he watched you from the side, admiring the way moans passed your lips, tits bouncing with every move. he licked his lips, stiffling grunts as he jerked himself off.

carl's hands roamed your body, groping everything he could touch. he left a trail of kisses down your stomach before sliding your panties down with his teeth. “jesus fucking christ,” he practically moaned as he admired your pussy. “dripping all over the fucking floor.” his words only fueled lip's experience, and he was right, you were gonna stain the tiles with your slick. you whined as his hot breath fanned your core, lips leaving faint kisses along your inner thighs before his tongue began prodding your clit. “can't help it, daddy,” your fingers tugged at his blond locks, pulling him in closer with a groan of delight. “need you to fuck me so bad.”

lip sighed as your voice filled his ears, spoiling himself by massaging his balls and taunting thebslit of his dick. all he could think about was you—on your knees, helping him out with the same generosity carl was used to.

“you want daddy to fuck you, huh?” you nodded eagerly, pressing one of your bare feet to his crotch and he quickly began undoing his belt. “so needy you can't wait five minutes, huh princess?” you shook your head, desperate sounds leaving you as you pressed your bare back against the cold wall.

“so needy, daddy, need you right now,” you moaned in response. carl grinned, sliding his bottoms off with no hesitation before crawling back towards you, his lips inches away from yours. he positioned the head of his dick right on top of your entrance, but didn't push in, staying right where he was. “gonna let daddy tear your pussy up, huh?” you nodded, smiling right back at him with nothing but a playful glint in your eyes. “i'm gonna let daddy use my pussy and fill me up,” you both smiled before he pressed his lips to yours, engaging in another passionate kiss.

lip couldn't believe the filth that was coming out of your mouth. it had exposed him to a side of you he never knew existed. the same girl who used to sing liam to sleep, was now fueling his need to cum. his hair stuck to his forehead as he pumped his dick, watching the way your legs were spread, wet pussy shimmering with carl's dick placed on your clit. he couldn't wait to see and hear you get fucked.

“gonna ruin you,” carl groaned as he grabbed his shaft. it only took a second for him to bury himself into the depths of your pussy, all the way from his tip to his balls. you let out a cry of ecstasy, holding onto his shoulders for support. he was now seated on the floor, his back against the counter with you in his lap. “bounce on daddy's dick now, okay?”

you leaned back, moans passing your lips as you arched your back, now bouncing up and down on his cock. you shuddered as you did so, the angle setting off fireworks in your stomach. you sped up the pace, carl grunting as he tilted his hips upward, now meeting your bounces with thrusts. you locked your fingers in his hair, pulling him into your tits. he didn't hesitate to suck on them, marking the fat and biting your hardened nipples. you couldn't help but squeal at the overwhelming feeling of your pussy sucking him in.

“look at you, taking my dick so well,” he wasn't the only one looking at you. lip trembled as he continued to ferociously pump his cock, watching the way you kept bouncing. he watched the way your greedy cunt sucked up his brother's dick, the way your tits and ass bounced along with you, the wsy the counter shook from your brutal movements. he couldn't help himself—he would've given his liver to switch places with carl, for a chance to make you feel good. “you like the way daddy fucks you?”

you nodded feverishly, your bounces quickening in order to match his harsh thrusts. you spread your legs, giving your boyfriend and uninvited visitor a good look at the way your pussy took his dick—the way it disappeared inside you and came back for a split second, the way he was soaked in your juices. you began to whimper, a familiar sensation in your stomach forming. “i can't, i'm gonna cum,” you whined, holding onto carl's legs for support.

he had taken ahold of your hips, now thrusting inside you on his terms. he groaned loudly at the feeling of your pussy sucking him in, refusing to let go. “i'm gonna cum, too,” he announced, but he didn't stop. he didn't stop pounding into you, burying his thick cock until it was slamming into your cervix. he didn't stop until his brain went foggy and your cries were his only source of sense. “doing so good for me, baby, come on. cum on daddy's dick, baby. yeah,” he sputtered out words of encouragement until you were practically sobbing his name.

when you came, lip came, too. he stood in the doorway, his fist in the shape of a tight hole that was no match for you, draining the rest of the cum he had pent up inside him. he came with his bottom lip tucked between his teeth, suppressing the sounds threatening to catch your attention. he milked his orgasm dry, getting every last drop that he had wasted on you. he came happily, knowing his last sight was a good one—with you drenching yourself in your own arousal.

#shameless #shameless fanfiction #shameless angst #shameless smut #shameless x reader #carl gallagher x reader #carl gallagher smut #carl x reader #lip gallagher x you #carl gallagher x you #lip gallagher smut #lip gallagher #carl gallagher

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h0efor2ho · 20 days

Text

Playtime

Yunho X Reader ( ft Wooyoung & Mingi )

WC : 1.4K of p0rn with very little plot ; not proofread

TW : Unprotected intercourse ( wrap it up kids ) Cockwarming, Exhibition (being listened to) Dirty Talk, Name calling ( Slut ) Praise, Use of nic name ( Baby, princess, pretty )

"Shhh baby, you don't want the rest of the guys to hear you do you? Don't want them to know what a little slut you actually are" Yunho says as he adjusts both of you in his gaming chair. You whimper in response as you feel his thick cock shift inside you.

You're trying to wrap your head around how you ended up in this position. Yunho was having his normal weekly gaming night with Wooyoung and Mingi and you had been peacefully reading your book laying on his bed. 40 minutes ago he called you over to sit on his lap, saying he needed some good luck. One thing led to another and here you were straddling his hips, his hard dick buried in your cunt.

"Woo over there by that wall" Yunho says into his headset as he looks over your shoulder. Your head nuzzled into his neck as you try not to pant and whine too loud. His arms caging you in as he looks at his screen. His long pretty hands pressing the buttons on his keyboard. "Yuyu" you whimper into the side of his neck as you try and hold still. The ache between your legs becoming to much for you. "Shh babe" he coos at you as his hand comes up to push on your back, trying to muffle your voice.

All it does is shift your body forward, Yunho's cock shifting inside you hitting places that have you seeing start. A strangled moan leaving your lips as you throw your head back, the same time Yunho lets out a sharp gasp. The sound echoing through his room. "What was that?" you hear Mingi ask through the head set. Your chest heaving as you lean back looking at Yunho with wide eyed. A playful smirk plastered across his mouth as he says "Oh that was just Y/N. She apparently cant sit on my cock with out moaning like a needy whore" You feel your face heat under the blush that spreads across it.

"Yunho" you whisper yell at him. "Dude..... you have her sitting on your cock right now? While we're playing?" you hear Wooyoung say through the mic. "I sure do. She couldn't help herself, grinding all over me before" "YUNHO!" you shriek as you bury your face back into his shoulder. "What?" He chuckles "I told you to be quiet or they would hear you" You huff and try to lift your self up and off his lap, but you don't get far before his arm is wrapped around your waist pulling you back down. "Oh no where do you think you're going baby?" Another needy moan slipping past your lips as you slide back down on his shaft. Yunho lets out the same. "Oh did you like that baby? Fuck feels so good"

"Yuyu" you whisper breathlessly. "oh you can't. Hold on" You watch as Yunho removes his head set and unplugs them, plugging in a few new wires and pushing a few buttons before he asks "Can you hear me" followed by both Mingi and Wooyoung's voice filling the room. The horror you felt must have been all over your face because Yunho chuckles "They said they couldn't hear you babe. We want to be good friend's now don't we and let them listen" You knew this was his way of asking you if you were okay with this. You knew if you said no, he would shut it down. Yunho had never done anything to make you even close to uncomfortable.

But you couldn't deny the shock of pure pleasure that shot through you when you figured out that they could hear you, and you them. "Yes" you said softly "Want to be good for all of you" As soon as the words left your mouth three things happened. 1) You heard all the air leave Wooyoung's lungs. 2)Mingi let out the neediest groan and 3) The biggest smile crept its self across Yunhos face. "That's my girl" he said as he leaned in a placed the sweetest kiss to your lips. "Now move for them baby" he says against your lips "let them hear all your pretty sounds."

And you do. You would do anything this man said right now If it kept you feeling this way. Slowly you begin to pick up your hips, dragging yourself up his length before coming back down again. Little mews and moans leaving your lips as you look at Yunho watching you, his hands grabbing your hips. Slowly you pick up speed, bouncing on his lap faster, harder, pulling grunts of pleasure from his throat as he tried to control himself.

You on the other hand have lost all sense of self preservation and are a moaning, whining mess as you fuck yourself on your boyfriends dick. "God she sounds so good" Mingi deep voice grunts through the speakers in the room and you have know doubt in your mind that he has his cock in his hand listing to you. "So good" Wooyoung coo's back. Your walls tighten at their praise sending a moan slipping from Yunhos lips.

"Fuck baby you like that? You like them telling you how good you sound?" He asks, his hips jerking up to meet your body. You shake your head enthusiastically. "They can't hear you princess, use your words or have you gone dumb on me? Hmm?" "Yess" you moan out "Yes I like it yuyu" your hands snacking up his body to rest on his shoulders, giving yourself leverage to fuck yourself on him harder.

"Fu- fuck" Mingi moans "She sounds so pretty" The sound of your panting and your thighs slapping agains Yunhos hips fills the room along with the pants and whimpers from the speakers. "You should see how pretty she looks" Yunho breaths out "Maybe one day you can show Mingi baby, show him how well you ride cock" Your body heats up and your core clenches around him at the thought of his best friend watching you fuck him "Oh Mingi I think she likes that idea"

"Do you pretty? You like the idea of me being there? I like the idea" Mingi groans out, the tell tail sound of slapping filling the room lets you know either him or Woo are jerking them self to you and it elights another sensation of pleasure in you. "Hey what about me?" Woo whines "Well see about you" Yunho laughs. "Yuyu im-" His hand comes up to cup your cheek "I know baby, I know me too" he says as he lifts his hips to meet you. His other hand sneaks between your bodies and finds your bundle of nerves "Just let go for me baby"

It doesn't take long, between Yunho thrusting up into you, hitting that sweet spot just right, his finger in your clit rubbing circles just the way you like and Mingi and Wooyoung's groans and pants filling the room you are sent over the edge. Your body jerking forward till you were flat against Yunhos chest. Clamping down on his cock, your walls flutter around him just as he shoves back inside you and stills. His cock twitching as he fills you with his load.

The both of you reaching the loudest you have been the whole time, followed by the sound of Mingis deep grunts filling the room letting you know he followed behind the two of you. The only tell of Woo finishing was the heavy panting from his end. You stayed pressed up against Yunhos chest as his hand came up to stroke your back, helping you calm down. The reality of what you just did washes over you and you bury your face in his chest. Embarrassment eating away at you.

It's Wooyoung who breaks the silence first. "Ughh, I'll talk to you guys later.. Gotta clean up. Bye" and with a quick click he's gone. Its Mingi who lets out a chuckle after that "You got him all embarrassed there pretty" You shift to look at Yunhos computer screen, like you half expected to actually see your boyfriends 6ft blond best friend looking back at you. "Didn't mean to" yo mutter out. "Awww don't go getting all shy now baby. Don't forget we promised Mingi he could see just how well you ride remember"

You look up at Yunho, meeting his big chocolate brown eyes and that sweet smile and you instantly melt. "Yea pretty, I want to witness that first hand" you hear Mingi say. You nod your head yes up at Yunho before remembering Mingi cant hear you. "Yea.. okay" you say softly. A smile forming on your face as Yunho leans down to place a kiss onto of your head, you think to your self, what did you get yourself into?

Part 2 ?

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

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mono-dot-jpeg · 6 months

Text

boy failures for u - i. yoichi, s. nagi, s. ryusei, b. meguru

summary; in which some boys just love you so much, they simply can't function

genre/extra tags; scenarios, fluff, comedy, projecting my love for dog energy boys, they're so pathetic /pos, bachira is clumsy, ryusei is an embarrassingly horny dude (can confirm, he gets no bitches, absolutely ZERO play!!), nagi... is perfect as he is, yoichi,,,, is just socially awkward around people he has a crush on

[gender neutral reader]

a/n; look at me being fancy this one panel banner, slay. tbh i couldn't think of a good three photos to use for it so i tried this which is kind of nice. anyways i had a sudden thought hit me and it must be done. and what better anime to write for than the one where everyone has unexplainable gay tension between each other. i swear im as caught up as possible i think and i swear the gay tension is like,, crazy.

isagi yoichi is endearing. he's so bad at being normal around you. his face flushed a cute red, and his words barely managing to leave his mouth as you talk to him so sweetly. he doesn't know how to handle a crush. and it's so cute to tease him because he just doesn't know how to respond properly.

the times where he does manage to gain enough confidence to talk a conversation with you, he's never taking the lead in any of them. he's talking [somewhat] normally to you, answering your questions and [attempting] to reply to your thoughts and responses. of course, just don't flirt with him too hard. there's like a 50 percent chance he will understand it or not.

he can't even admire you correctly. when he attempts to give you a compliment, he's saying all the wrong words and apologizing profusely like he offended your entire bloodline. he's so utterly enchanted by you, he wonders if you're an angel sent just for him.

"you're so nice, y/n." "huh?" "i-i mean you're really cute! wait- i didn't mean that! fuck- not that i don't think you look cute! you're really a great person, you know?! sorry! i'm just gonna go back to practice...!"

nagi seishiro is so lazy that you can't help but watch over him. you understand why reo adores him (a little too much). he's a boy with pretty privilege and talent. he talks to you with such honesty that he unintentionally flirts with you. he doesn't know a lot of things well, but even he's had his fair share with understanding liking people (but that's only with the random dating sims he's tried).

when he manages to get on his feet, whether it's for a soccer match or you, he's stuck by you like a cute koala. he whines about everything being "too much of a hassle." but he finds himself walking around looking for you, no matter how far you are. he whines to you about how he had to get up to find you, and he's cuddling close to you. his mouth turned into his signature X shape as he pouts at you, annoyed that you just had to be away from him for more than a minute.

he tries so hard to be around you but at the cost of his laziness, he mutters to you about how much easier it would be if you just stay with him all the time like his purple-haired companion or his cactus pet. he fell for you first, but he makes it so easy for you to fall harder.

"why do you always have to do stuff?" "it's my job, sei." "you should just stay with me all the time. you take care of me so well."

shidou ryuusei is annoyingly desperate for you. if isagi was endearing, shidou was insolent. he speaks before he thinks. he has no shame in chasing after you. it's quite a feat that you haven't even shooed him away as much as sae has. you sort of find a friend in sae because of that. he always rolls his eyes when you mention him. he wonders why you keep being around the blonde jock, and you tell him, "who doesn't love a pathetic man?"

when he talks to you, he just can't read a room with you in it. he's the type of guy to say "this shot is for you." and it hits the goal post and then to his face. of course he'd never actually miss in a real match but i can guarantee that it would happen during a practice match. he unintentionally humiliates himself every time he tries to be cool. if sae is there, it's even worse. he's trying to bump up the flirting up to a 200 and failing miserably to woo either of you.

he's like those tweets where it's like, "how did i pull them? easy. i just went, PLEASEPLEAPLSEPWPLEAPLELA-". without fail, he basically tries to re-enact that but he doesn't even pull you because you'd much rather wait for him to actually be a decent man and grow the rest of his brain. though it doesn't seem he'll learn his lesson anytime soon.

"did i ever tell you how hot you look right now?" "yes. you have. multiple times. today." "please go out with me." "no."

bachira meguru is confusing. he's clingy, blunt, teasing, a little stupid but has the spirit, and an absolute cutie. he's passionate about what he likes. and surprise, surprise, he likes you. he's an infodumper but you don't mind at all. but sometimes those talks take a hard left into just telling you how much he likes you. you better hope you're strong because he will be jumping on you for a hug.

when he's just buzzing with excitement, he can't help but scramble by your side to cling onto you in any way that you will allow him to. he's not as boy failure as the others on this list because even when he fails to capture your heart, he's still succeeding in his book. he loves when you give him any sliver of attention. that's probably his thing as a boy failure. he is a hyper and needy dog who's too big to cuddle with but doesn't care. and you can't say no because then they just stare at you with those big eyes until you cave.

he's the type of guy to be confused when people ask if you're dating him and you say no. "what do you mean we're not dating? i thought this was the dating." he's never actually confessed, but he considers his "s-tier affection" to be confession enough. but he's kind of coward whether he realizes it or not. he's scared to actually say that he wants to be yours, but that's like an angsty story for another time, SO SHUT.

"what if we kissed? like right now?" "but we're not dating, meguru." "we're not? we should." "i'll think about it." "no think! just do!"

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weeknd-ogoc · 6 months

Text

BEGGING ll ˳ ׄ ⟡ . CARLOS SAINZ JR.

SUMMARY: in which carlos suffers the consequences of liking an influencer who is younger than him. (part one / part two)

FACE CLAIM: kelsey calemine

CONTAINS: reader is 21; 8 year age gap, first argument as a couple, smut & suprise ending!

AUTHOR'S NOTE: can't believe the season is over!!

ynusername

liked by carlossainz55, charlesleclerc, and 5,356,789 others

ynusername just us missing our dude 🏎️

view all 6,863 comments

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⟡

before carlos had left to japan, he tried everything to get you to go with him but since you were still upset you decided to stay at his house for the time being. he was hoping that you would maybe show up on race day but you never did.

"this is so childish..." carlos sighed as sat on the couch.

"if it's so childish, why don't you back with isa?"

he groaned once again and got back up, following you around the kitchen. "you know that i want to be with you and only you! i'm sorry for making you stay there another night but i just didn't want my fam-"

“you're so unbelievable carlos, you are a grown man! why do you care what your parents think of you?”

“i don’t expect you to understand, you don't even talk to your family!” he had slammed his hand on the kitchen table, his voice was loud and it left an echo but there was a hint of hurt underneath his tone.

piǹon had barked at carlos and you remembered it got quiet in that moment, maybe you pushed the argument too far — before you could even go hug carlos he had already made his way out of the kitchen, leaving you with piǹon standing right next to you.

this had been the ending of your first argument.

it took carlos about two days before he could call you but you never picked up, instead you guys found yourselves texting for the rest of the week.

you enjoyed staying at his house with piñon, you guys would go on walks, sit outside to eat and you even found yourself sleeping right next to him — but what you didn't like was that carlos wasn't around, it was really lonely without him.

as you watched carlos doing an interview on tv, piñon jumped up to the tv and started scratching it. "i miss him too."

⟡

ynspam

liked by carlossainz55, charlesleclerc and 356,789 others

ynspam love youu ❤️

view all 2,633 comments

carlossainz55 love you the most amor ❤️

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carlossainz55 i can and will 🤺

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⟡

you had woken up to someone stroking your hair and you opened your eyes to see carlos sitting right next to you. “you're home"

he smiled and nodded before leaving a kiss on your forhead. "c'mon let's go to bed."

once the both of you got comfortable, you guys stayed looking at each other but couldn't find yourselves to speak so before you so instead his lips suddenly crash into yours.

that kiss led you to be in the position that you were in now.

"i missed you so much." his bare chest is against your back as he started to rock his hips into you slowly, a satisfied moan leaving your lips as your walls clung onto him tightly.. "i'm sorry for lying to you and leaving without saying goodbye..."

when you didnt answer him he leaned your head back and with his fingers he forces your mouth open. "c'mon say something mi reina." he then licks your bottom lip and bites it.

the position you were in had you feeling every inch of carlos's thick cock, repeatedly hitting your sweet spot. "it's o-okay..."

"te quiero mucho..." he began sucking on your neck, leaving marks behind for the next day. "promise i won't ever lie to again..."

once you heard carlos say that you felt like you were getting close and he felt it too. "i love you too carlitos."

you were now seeing stars as carlos continued to blow your back out.

⟡

carlossainz55

liked by ynspam, ynusername, and 2,234,567 others

carlosainz55 little baecation dump

view all 5,422 comments

ynusername 🥹 que guapooo

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carlosainz55 you're invited, come swim here

username if you look closely you could see me jumping off the cliff (i cant swim)

ynusername i'll save you carlosainz55 you cant even swim either ynusername 😧 now that was a secret

⟡

"c'mon stop worrying about the bugs amor..." carlos said as he helped you across a puddle. "they won't kill you."

you swatted a fly and continued to hold his hand as you guys walked across the field. "if i knew we were coming to a place like this, i wouldn't have worn heels, maybe some sneakers."

he smiled as you continued struggling to walk in the grass with your heels and talking about whatever nonsense that was going on in your life, piñon was just behind you guys sniffing the flowers.

carlos had never felt so in love with someone but yet again he never dated someone like you — you were constantly getting on his nerves, you'd cook him dinner, most importantly you've supported him and showed up to almost all his races.

"well i'm not worried about kids right now..." he remembered you saying. "maybe when you become world champion, we'll open this conversation back up."

you made him think about getting married, having kids, buying building a house just for you.

"alright close your eyes, we're almost there..." carlos said as he gently put his hands around your eyes, trying not to mess up your makeup.

he finally saw the boat and the red rose arch as you guys got closer.

"you better not leave me in a ditch or something." you mumbled.

"now why would i do that?" he chuckled before finally getting to the spot and letting you see.

"for getting cranky this morning wit-" you finally had looked and saw the marry me arch and the beautiful picnic boat he had set up. "car-"

you suddenly felt your heartbeat racing in your chest and felt your face getting warm, by the time you had looked back at him he was down on one knee with a smile. "will you marry me?"

you nodded as he stood back up. "that's a yes?"

"yes carlos, it's a yes!" you quickly pecked his lips before he slid the shiny ring onto your finger.

once you guys got on the boat he saw you smiling at him. "what is it?"

“oh nothing, you just move pretty fast.” you fed him a piece of croissant and placed it down. "we’ve been dating for abou-”

“six months and four days.” he responded rather quickly and as your smile grew, he rolled his eyes. "but y'know who is really counting?”

⟡

ynusername