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#just because you are expressing your feelings does not mean that what you're saying is automatically not offensive
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The Price Of Not Winning - Max Verstappen
Dark fic - if you don't like this or the warnings/themes make you uncomfortable. I can't stress this enough, DO NOT READ THIS
Request from anon - Dark fic! Max smut with corporate / bts employee who butts head with him often. He loses a race due to her and is out for blood after the race.
Warnings/themes: Smut (rough/hate sex, choking, head-pushing, orgasm denial), abuse of power in the workplace, degradation
No part 2 requests please
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It didn't make sense.
Sure Max had argued it but all the other strategists agreed, her strategy should've given him the win.
"It's alright, y/n. We all have a bad day." Another strategist states though he's wincing patting her back because they all know that the golden boy reigning champion argued the strategy wouldn't work.
And it didn't.
It's y/n's fault.
Something Max surely won't be letting her forget, especially since it ended with him P6. Not even the top 5.
"I think I'm going to be sick." Y/n wheezes as they sit down awaiting Max for the debrief.
"He seems in good spirits for media." One of the other strategists states while GP sits down silently which means one thing. That his driver is going to be a storm.
By the time Max appears, y/n feels like she's almost trembling but the moment he opens his mouth looking directly at her.
"I don't want y/n on my strategy again." Max states making Christian, GP and everyone else look at her. The fearful expression turning to one of angry very quickly.
"I have given you one bad strategy-for which I am sorry. But I have given you dozens of race winning strategies." Y/n reminds him through gritted teeth.
"One too many bad strategies."
"As if you've never fucked up a race on your own."
"Enough." Christian calls snapping them out their back and forth. "We're done. Everyone get out of here. We'll regroup at base before the next race when everyone has calmed down."
The room can't exit quick enough, including GP and Christian, but Max makes a b-line to y/n, his hand catching her throat while he body blocks the view from any prying eyes.
"You lost me that race and you'll pay for that."
Y/n couldn't talk if she wanted to, her body is frozen in fear of his actions and the fact his hand is currently very tightly around her throat. But it's when his thumb strokes over her thumping pulse.
"You'll be lucky if I don't have your job for what you did today." Max states before releasing her and leaving the room making her let out her breath she'd been forced to hold.
-
Y/n sighs walking into her room and pressing her forehead against the back of the door as it clicks closed.
"Fucking stupid." Y/n grumbles to herself.
"I agree." Max states making her jump and spin. "I decided I'm not done with you."
Y/n is torn between outrage and terrified. How the hell did he even get in her room?
"Come here, y/n." Max instructs but she certainly isn't being bossed about. "If you want to prove that you're not completely useless in the team, then you want to do as I say right now."
Y/n wants to argue that Max simply doesn't have that power and that he's out of his mind if he thinks she'll do anything he says. But y/n also knows that Max is well within the power of leaving her unemployed by the end of the day if he just so wishes.
So she walks over and the moment she's is in front of him there's a look on his face that tells her he might've lost the race. But he's winning the war between them.
"You have a problem not know when to open your mouth and when to keep it closed. So I want you on your knees and you're going to get the true taste of a champion."
"Your dick is not going anywhere near my mouth."
"You don't really have much of an option, do you?" Max questions reminding her of what she has to lose. Pride or her job. But what does she value more.
There's other jobs. Facing Max every day knowing he's touched her like that is going to bruise the pride.
But could it bruise it anymore than today?
Y/n swallows dropping to her knees and reaching for his shorts since he seems to be in workout gear. Even before she's pulled it out the size is intimidating.
"If you want to fuck me, next time just say so." Y/n comments earning a smirk.
"I didn't even have to say it directly for you to do it...so clearly I don't need to say so. Now put that mouth to what I'm sure is it's one worthwhile use." Max instructs making her jaw shift before she pulls him out, suddenly wishing her mouth wasn't so dry.
He does let her ease herself into it, her tongue soft against the tip before she slides his dick into her mouth but after a while of her own speed, Max proves that the track isn't the only place her prefers things to go at a faster pace.
She feels him gather her hair surprisingly gently but that's when his softness ends and she feels his hand pushing himself down her throat as if she has no limit. Something she very much does, but by this point fighting it is pointless and she hates that the manhandling is very effectively turning her on. Though she's not sure that's his intention.
Eventually he pulls her back making her scalp burn a little from the pull. But at least she can breathe more than half a breath.
"You didn't..." Y/n mumbles before seeing his hand hold out to her which she takes with an untrusting frown.
"No, I want the real thing if I'm going to finish where I want-unless you want to ruin that too?"
Y/n doesn't hide the glare as he undoes her trousers and leaves them sliding down her legs till they're pooling at her feet while he pulls her top off over her head. She forward before kneeling over him, straddling him. Hovering over his dick as he holds it, teasing her with it and making her face hot as she twitches from the feel.
"Fuck." Y/n whimpers finally sliding down on him.
Similarly to giving him head, she controls the pace and depth before finding him taking control when he throws her down on the sofa so he's on top and y/n is actually certain the man must just be a perfectionist with everything because his ability to locate her g-spot once he's in control is scary.
She's also pretty certain he's rearranging some organs from the sheer speed and depth he's going at. And while she'd like to deny any of this feel good because Max is a twat with the personality of a bull. She's not sure she's ever had sex this good.
"Fuck, don't stop. Please."
She's so close that when she feels a few more thrust and then him pull out, she's about to scream when she feels his cum coat her tummy and and she pants about ready to cry. She might actually cry, she's never felt so empty and actually maybe betrayed.
"You-"
"I didn't let you finish. That's a privilege you get when I've won the next race." Max states then sighing as his fingers tease her twitching, puffy hole that is contract around the memory of him but deprived of the climax she's so desperate for. "Remember this feeling next time you are actually trusted with making the call for strategy."
Y/n is silent watching Max redress and stand up, though he pauses looking down at her, naked and with his cum still pooled on her skin before running his finger through the warm cum and poking it into her slightly open mouth from her still panting to catch her breath. She salty flavour on her tongue making her obediently suck it from his finger before she moves back.
Then in a nightmare-ish moment.
He suddenly has his phone out and is snapping some pictures of her.
"I'll see you at the next race."
Y/n swallows not looking as he walks out, the door clicking closed before she finally realises what just happened.
And how badly she needs it to happen again. Only possibly with an orgasm in the end and not just a shower of his cum onto her skin while she twitches and aches with a need for him to come back and do it until she's a mess of putty in his hands.
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orangelala · 2 days
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ʟᴇᴛ ᴍᴇ ʟᴏᴠᴇ ʏᴏᴜ
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chris sturniolo x reader
summary: you both started off as friends, becoming even closer, and now that chris has finally gotten over his commitment issues with the impact you've made on his life he's sure he wants no one else. what happens when the feeling isn't mutual, or is it?
warnings: angst, some fluff? swearing, pet names (love,ma)
a/n: we are locked in on series time. part two will be out soon!
word count: 1.9k words
ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ ꜱᴇʀɪᴇꜱ ᴍᴀᴛᴛ ᴠᴇʀꜱɪᴏɴ
"i've seen the way he looks at you." she ran the brush through my hair. "it's not in a friend way either."
she was wrong, but it didn't stop my pulse from spiking with anticipation. "how does he look at me?"
fiona smiled. "like he never wants to look away."
"what is that supposed to mean?" "it means he loves you, its so obvious. how could you be so blind?" "if you mean in a friend way, then yes, yes he does" fiona sigh turning me around in the chair. "how long have we been friends?" "since kindergarten" "exactly. i know you better than anyone. preferably better than you know yourself. which means i know you feel the same"
fiona smiles once more before turning me around and grabbing the brush to help do my hair now. as if the discussion was over but was she right? was he really looking at me in a special way? did he actually loved me more than a friend?
she finally finishes up my hair and i put on my outfit for the day. as i walk to my car and get in to drive to the triplets house, i couldn't help but think about what she said. "like he never wants to look away" "like he never wants to look away" what the hell did that even mean? as much as i trust my bestfriend, i feel like she could be wrong about this.
as i reach their house, i gather my purse and some other things stepping out and walking up to the house. knocking on the door, im immediately greeted by nick pulling me into a hug. "hey girl, how are you doing?" "im good nick, and you?" "im great, chris is downstairs, by the way" "how are you sure im not here to see you?" i say catching up to him as he walked to the kitchen.
"so you're here to see me?"nick says putting his hand on his hip giving me a confused look. "yes, ive missed you" bringing him into a hug. "well ive missed you too kid" he says hugging me back. "how was your morning?" "it was okay but nick, you wouldn't believe what fiona had said-" "hey kid, why didn't you tell me you were here?" chris says cutting me off.
"well i was talking to nick, im not just bestfriends with you" i say sarcastically stepping back towards nick. "yeah chris, she's best friends with all of us, if she wants to hang with us because she's tired of you, she can" i couldn't help but burst into laughing from nicks comment. making nick chime in, as i catch my breath i look up and notice chris rolling his eyes.
"well if she's not 'too tired of me' i'd like to steal her for a moment, if that's okay with you" he says looking at nick for what looks like an approval. "go ahead. i'll be right here girl if you need me" nick says pointing at me as well walk away. "i'll keep that in mind, thank you bae!"
"you're not really tired of me are you?" he says opening the door to his bedroom. "of course not, nick was just saying to mess with you. i never get tired of you" i say bringing him into a hug. i felt him smile against me as he hugged me back tight.
"chris?" "yes love?" he says pulling away. "i don't want to interfere in your personal business-" "your my bestfriend, you never interfere. i tell you everything" he smiles, as he reassures me as he could tell the uncomfortableness on my face.
"do you like anyone?" i say startling myself, i didn't mean to say it so quickly. i watch chris's facial expression change. "i was with fiona, and fiona had said" "what did she say?" "well she said you looked at me um in a certain way"
i look away towards the door as i try to comprehend what was going on, was i really about to do this right now? i was taken out of my thoughts as chris takes his hand and moves my head to look at him.
"what type of way is that? he smirks. "in a way that uh, you like me?" "and?" "and well chris is it truth?" i say looking down at my hands. "if it is?"
"chris" i whispered. "your my best friend." "i know what i am," he says against my skin. "what would that, what would that even look like?" "what would what look like?" "oh my god chris, us. fuck. you know us" "so you like me back?" "i never said that, i asked a question"
"what would it be like? what would 'us' even look like? i whisper into again him. "i can show you exactly what it would be like."
i felt him fisting the fabric of my shirt, as if he was stopping himself from doing more. then releasing it and placing his palm to my waist.
"if you were really mine, i'd do this all the time." his long fingers draped around my hip and pushed me against him from the waist down. hot. he felt so hot and hard, branding my skin, even with layers of fabric separating us.
"if you were mine, you'd crave this." he then closed the rest of the distance that separated us very slowly. bringing our bodies flush together with such softness and at such a painful pace that i praised and cursed him at the same time. "you would want it."
but wasn't i doing that?
before i could delve into that, chris's large body shifted, and my back was against a hard surface. he looked at me quite intensely as if he was trying to read me. read my facial expressions but my mind went blank, making my whole body go blank. most importantly my heart.
what am i doing? what was i doing was all that was going through my head. he leans into me, running his hand over my cheek before pulling me into him, closing the space between us completely. i wanted to move. i needed to get out of here, but why was i feeling so safe. why did i feel happy under his touch?
chris places his other hand around my waist before fully bringing his face near mine. his lips were just centimeters away from mine. pulling me in with his hand. our lips had barely grazed. "im sorry, but i can't. im sorry" i say pulling away and grabbing my things.
"wait- what? don't go." "im so sorry, chris," i say choked as tears begin to run down my face. he had looked at me in confusion. it was only seconds later to a minute was how quickly i got out of there.
sprinting in the direction of my car as i walk out the house. i sit for a minute to catch my breath before placing the key in the ignition and starting up the car. it felt as if i could hear his voice around me, i could still see that expression. it was killing. the look he gave me. that look that was pastured on his face when i walked out.
i had finally reach my apartment making me sigh in relief. quickly getting out of car and walking up to my apartment, i couldn't get myself to put the key in the door and step in. i wasn't expecting to come home tonight. let alone be alone.
i stand there, placing a hand on the door before taking a deep breath and turning the key to let myself in. i was the one who did it. he didn't walk out on me, i walked out on him but yet why does it hurt so much.
placing my stuff on the table, i walk in the direction of my room. grabbing some fresh clothing. i couldn't be in his clothes anymore, running my fingers along the end of the shirt and almost staring at it as it reminded me of time he gave it to me. i quickly stopped the flashback that was about to occur as quickly pull it over my head and toss it to the side, along with my shorts.
i walk into the connecting bathroom to turn on the shower, stepping away and looking in the mirror to run my fingers over my cheek, where he ran his fingers over and moved down to my waist. running my hand over the spot repeatedly as if i was still trying to feel his touch.
i felt desperate, needy. craving his touch again. but i know getting out of there was something i needed to do to protect myself. why did it have to be from him? i had no idea but now catching myself in train of thought, i turn around and fully strip my underwear and bra and walk in.
i didn't really remember getting out of the shower and laying down. it had been about an hour later, as i have fidgeted through my sheets. tossing and turning but nothing had seemed to work. there was one thing and one thing only that ran through my mind. that almost kiss and him.
my phone screen lit up my dark room, making me roll over and hesitantly grab the phone. there were multiple missed calls and messages from him.
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about to play the first message, i exit out the app and throw the phone on the floor. standing up to catch my breath and placing in my room i hear the door. what seemed like a faint knock only for it to be a bit louder. wiping my eyes, i walk out of my room and towards the front door.
"who is it?" i say clearing my throat as i start to unlock and open the door. "yes? how can i help you- chris?" i say in a very hushed tone. "what are you doing here?" "i wanted to see you, why did you leave? was it something i did?"
"chris, you shouldn't be here" "i know but i want to know why you left, did i make you uncomfortable?" i shoved my hands in my pajama pockets as i take a step back making chris step towards me. "chris please" i beg, as i feel everything inside me tear apart.
"just answer my question please and i'll go. i promise, i just need to know" he said in an almost whisper that rang around my head.
my hands stayed in my pockets; his were at his sides. we weren't touching, not really. i had the sudden, sharp memory of the way his fingers had brushed against mine a few hours before. he bent his face down to my shoulder, his breath slipping through three layers of cloth to warm the skin there.
one of his fingers hooked at the strings of my pajamas and inched me just that tiny bit closer. his nose skimmed up my throat, along my cheek, and i saw none of it. i squeezed my eyes shut as his forehead finally came to rest against mine.
"look at me."
"don't do this," i whispered.
"i don't know what's wrong with me," he breathed out. "i feel like, i feel like i'm losing my damn mind, like your face has been carved into my heart, and i don't remember when, and i don't understand why, but the scar is there, and i can't get it to heal. it won't go. i can't make it fade. and you won't even look at me."
⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚
tags: @nicksmainbitch @sturniolossss @sturnlova @its-jennarose @freshsturns @luverboychris @canthelpit0 @ghostlypineappl @sturnzsblog @sluttformatt @urfavstromboli @junnniiieee07 @drpepperworshipper @ksturniolo7 @samandcolbyfan22 @sturncakez @imwetforyourmom @h3arts4harry @patscorner @iluvmattyb @mattslovelygf @blahbel668 @mattscoquette @wh0resstuff @crack240
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sageistrii · 2 days
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"Kpop stans love when idols are visibly affected by the hate."
When I read this, it's as if a light bulb went off in my head. This is the essence of the problem. Throughout the years, Jimin has had moments where he expresses vulnerability, insecurity, and regret. And instead of admiring his humility or sincerity, they hate him for it. Because they think they can.
I think they are just looking for a chance to be a bully... because that option isn't available to them in their real life.
Sorry to bring up politics here, but these are the kind of people who admire Trump. He's a bully, yet they don't find that a bad thing. Because they'd like to be a bully, too.
As for the "he needs support." They're simply parroting what they've heard elsewhere, and really have no conception of what "support" means or how one acquires it. And you can have great "support" for your voice and still steuggle to find the correct key if you can't hear the music.
You may be correct that Jimin is best known as a dancer, but after Chapter Two and going forward, he will increasingly be known for his beautiful and unique voice and as an outstanding musical storyteller.
The thing is Jimin never acknowledges the hate. He never talks about it, he's insinuated that he knows about it and his personality change over the years proves that, but that's about it. The times when he's expressed those things you listed was never him reacting to the hate he gets online. It was about himself and how he never wants to let himself down.
If anything pjms are the ones who present him a certain. They spend all day painting him as someone who should be pitied because he gets hated on. While everyone loves to claim that their own fave gets the most hate like it's some competition and while I do agree that Jimin is at the top when it comes to idols who get a ton of hate, he still isn't the only Idol who gets hated on. Stop asking other pjms especially the blogs on here everyday about "why" he gets hate. Stop fixating on the hate he gets because you think you're his saviour. Stop saying stuff like "he's so sweet how can you hate him", stop telling us about how you're emotionally affected by the hate or how you cried because of it. Someone will say the vilest thing about him and some pjm or army will quote with something like "let's talk about how y'all are always hateful to someone like Jimin who's never hurt a soul" like just give the same energy to their fave or stfu, report and move on. Jimin doesn't come online to cry about being hated on, y'all are the ones making him vulnerable. Y'all show that the hate gets to you and you can't actually defend him and it automatically makes it seem like the hate affects Jimin and kpop Stans love it.
No one is going to see y'all's tweets about how Jimin is a good person who doesn't deserve hate and feel remorseful, it actually does the opposite because it makes them feel like they have some some kind of power.
Pjms don't even remember that jk got dragged a lot on local twtr because jjks made sure to ignore it and act like everyone loves him and he never gets any hate. But part of the reason why the hate Jimin gets is used against him is because pjms will never let you forget that he gets hated on. Hoping for sympathy and remorse from kpop stans only makes things worse. These people only respond to equal energy.
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shalotttower · 1 day
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A Natural Benefit
Title: A Natural Benefit
Fandom: Death Note
Characters: L Lawliet x Reader (female)
Summary: L wants to try something new, you want to be left alone. So an offer is on the table, it's a mutually beneficial arrangement after all.
Word count: 2100+
Notes: yandere!L, kidnapped Reader, dub-con kissing, manipulation, captivity, L and Reader were together at Wammy's House
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"Would you indulge me?"
Your eyes dart up from the page to his face. L looks at you like he always does ─ an intent yet oddly distant stare that used to make goosebumps appear on your arms. Nowadays you're somewhat re-accustomed to his mannerisms. He doesn't blink much, tends to stand behind your back whenever possible, likes to play with his food and enjoys invading your personal space far too much to be deemed socially acceptable.
His habits are strange but harmless.
"No," you say, just to be contrary.
L is fond of making things sound simple, and then — snap! — the trap is shut, and you find yourself doing a completely different activity than initially expected.
"I want to kiss you."
"N-" You blink and lower your book down, not bothering to mark it. "What?"
"Kissing is an act of physical intimacy between individuals," he says like it's an obvious fact and you're merely slow on the uptake. L's expression doesn't change, neutral despite this being anything but a normal conversation starter even by your standards ─ admittedly low.
"Thank you for enlightening me about the definition," you lean back against the cushions, "still no."
"Why not?" He asks after a momentary pause.
"Because I don't want to."
A simple answer to a weird request. You try to resume reading, but there're other things currently occupying your brain ─ namely the attempts to understand what prompted such inquiry.
L never asked for physical contact before; platonic or otherwise. Sure he tried to entice you into spending time with him through bargain and manipulation, and you pretended to be oblivious enough to earn an Oscar for your acting skills. However, there never was any talk of kissing involved. Any kind of touching, actually.
He hums. "Would you like me to explain my reasons?"
Sometimes you think that the sole cause of L's existence is just so he could annoy people for kicks. His questions are always peculiar, and you've learned that every single one of them is designed to lead towards some specific conclusion, preferably the one he wants. You have a feeling that if you say 'yes', L will proceed to list a hundred points about why kissing is good. And then another hundred why kissing him specifically is beneficial.
"No."
He looks at you. You look at him and raise the book higher.
"Indulging me would benefit both of us," L says, undeterred. "You're very curious by nature and I find it quite fascinating that you're able to deny your curiosity in this particular case."
Has a more obvious bait ever existed anywhere in human history? Probably not, and you'll bet your entire life savings on it too.
"I'm not curious," you lie, "now leave me alone. I want to read."
He leans forward. "You haven't focused on the book since I asked my question."
Smartass. You purse your lips and pretend that the characters are suddenly so interesting, that it's hard to look away from the intricacies of the plot unfolding inside this fictional world. At least things there make sense; no need to figure out the hidden meanings behind other people's words, because they are mostly transparent when there's a whole paragraph dedicated to the protagonist's feelings.
He reminds you of those spider-like creatures from documentaries ─ their actions seem random at first glance, yet upon further scrutiny prove to be anything but. Instead, they're meticulously crafted and executed to obtain maximum results.
L studies you for a little while longer, and eventually pads towards the kitchenette. The kettle whistles soon after as he makes himself tea; mint flavored, judging by the aroma wafting through the air.
______________________________________________________
You should have known that he won't give up ─ L is just as persistent as you are stubborn. If anything, you've set a challenge before him, and he tends to fixate on those until they are solved: a fact well-known and accepted among those who ever had a (dis)pleasure of interacting with him.
He doesn't outright ask you again, not the next day or the one after that. No. Accidentally, the only type of movies you're able to watch now are rom-coms or dramas with lots of kissing scenes sprinkled here and there between the banter bordering on cringe; sweet confessions spoken over candlelit dinners; passionate declarations whispered during sunsets... Clichés, amore, and kisses galore.
"I'm not sure this is the best movie for the evening," you say, as the screen flickers with images of two leads gazing into each other's eyes like they found the answers to every single question asked.
"The reviews are quite positive," L replies, munching on caramel popcorn.
"Reviews can be faked. And the trailer was misleading. I thought it was going to be an action movie."
"It is an action movie. The genres are listed right there," he points at the screen, and the words 'romance and action' stare back at you.
You frown and settle deeper into the couch cushions. It's uncomfortable ─ watching romantic scenes with L in the same room. His presence doesn't feel oppressive or demanding, yet you can't shake off the squirmy, twisty feeling. The kind when you enter an elevator with someone else and get slightly agitated for no reason. And so you try to slow down your breathing, but it only makes things worse. Your heart beats faster, palms start sweating and the hypothetical elevator stranger inevitably thinks that you're weird.
L isn't an elevator stranger. He's the owner of the elevator, and the entire building, and the city.
"He's going to die in the next ten minutes," you mutter.
"No, he won't."
"Yes, he will."
L hums. "Want a bet?"
Your eyes narrow.
"If he survives past the fifteen minute mark," L says slowly, "you indulge me."
"And if he doesn't?"
"I leave you alone for two days."
There's no hesitation on his side. None whatsoever, which proves suspicious immediately ─ L never offers something unless certain about the outcome beforehand, whether by logical deduction or calculated gamble. Probability factors run inside his brain instead of blood cells and grey matter, calculating risk vs return ratio quicker than any computer ever could.
You glance at the screen. It's a simple plot. There were a twist or two earlier, sure, but overall nothing extraordinary that would require hours upon hours of critical thinking to unravel.
A man, a woman. A handsome villain who wants them dead, for various reasons. They run and fight, shoot guns, dodge punches, and kiss between those because apparently there's time for romance even when a life is on the line.
It's a very simple plot; and two days are a lot to pretend that L doesn't exist. That you got rich enough to buy this kind of apartment.
"The speakers?"
"Switched off."
"The cameras?"
"Those will stay."
Of course, they will. You wouldn't expect anything less ─ privacy issues are non-existent here in more ways than one.
L isn't always a presence. Sometimes he leaves and you're alone with nothing but books and TV to pass time, but two days sound wonderful regardless. There's something in empty spaces that's enticing, even if they're temporary. L, for all his peculiarities, isn't too bad of a company. He's quiet, and often busy with his own matters. But he also has this way of looking at you that is unnerving. Like you're interesting. Or important. Or simply fascinating.
Sometimes he wants to talk, he wants to listen, he wants to ask questions and give answers until everything blurs into an amalgamation of words. It's exhausting.
Two days sound good. His hand is dry and slender. You grasp it and shake it once.
"I'll start the timer now," L says after your hands separate.
______________________________________________________
Twelve minutes.
Three more and he's dead.
You wish that he'd just kick the bucket already, so you could spend the next forty eight hours in pure, undiluted bliss.
_______________________________________________________
The male lead dies after seventeen minutes.
When the credits roll over, the apartment is silent except for the soft buzzing of electronics. You look at the screen, stubbornly, because you don't want to look at him, the owner of the elevator, and the building, and the city.
"It was close," he comments, as if trying to comfort you, which makes it even more of a sore spot.
That’s what L thrives on ─ technicalities, loopholes, small and seemingly insignificant details which are easily overlooked, yet make a great difference. You're not sure if you're annoyed, or disappointed. And what’s more important ─ at whom.
You have known for years that L tends to get his way eventually whenever there's something specific caught up in that head of his; a fixation which refuses to leave until satisfied, and sometimes even after. Snap. You can get up and head out of the living room, you know you can. Will you though is another question entirely.
L isn't a typical captor ─ he doesn't demand or force you into things. He simply presents a possibility and waits. Not aggressive or domineering, not sadistic. But oh he is a PhD of holding a grudge. Leaving now probably means waking up tomorrow and finding that every single disk has vanished without a trace, along with the bookshelves being switched for some obscure scientific texts on chemistry, physics and other things that require an advanced degree to fully understand.
Because someone decided that you don’t deserve entertainment anymore. Because someone is petty enough to deprive you of basic mental stimuli, and is stubborn enough to hold onto that decision even when reasoned with. Unsuccessfully.
It's a talent really, this particular brand of making your life miserable in many small ways, so they accumulate into something greater over time until you feel like the walls are closing in slowly but surely.
You can't back out, even though no one openly stops you from doing so. And L knows that. And he knows that you know. His lips twitch and curl upward before flattening again into neutral territory.
There's a theory that if you pull a band-aid fast enough, it won't hurt as much. The credibility behind it is questionable.
You exhale and meet L's gaze ─ his posture hasn't changed from the beginning to the end of the film, knees tucked to his chest, eyes two dark pools that stare without blinking. His fingers drum a steady rhythm, and that's probably the only sign that gives it away.
Anticipation.
"Fine," you say finally.
His mouth opens before closing back again. L doesn't move a bit.
He wants you to do it, you realize. Wants you to initiate instead of just allowing it. What an ass.
You squish his cheeks between your palms until his lips pucker outwards. L makes a soft noise of surprise but doesn't try to fight back.
Black lashes cast a shadow across his skin. There's no perfume or cologne, no distinct smell ─ he uses plain soap and shampoo which don't have a discernible aroma.
"I believe I was promised an indulgence," L says, voice muffled a bit by your hands on his face.
He looks like a fish this way. A silly, ridiculous image that would make you snort if not for the situation at hand.
Band-aids and ripping them off.
You sigh, lean forward, and press your mouth to his.
He tastes like caramel popcorn.
Mint tea.
Indulgence.
The angle is awkward, and L doesn't move an inch to accommodate the position. He stays still like a block of solid rock, not a single muscle twitches, and doesn't even attempt to reciprocate. You have half a mind to think that maybe he's mocking you, but then his fingers lightly curl on the fabric of his jeans. L's eyelids flutter half-closed when your noses bump, then open again right after. Another oddity added to the pile.
It lasts no longer than ten seconds before you pull away. L blinks. Touches his lower lip with the tip of a finger and rubs it like searching for traces left by the contact.
"You were promised an indulgence," you remind him, trying to sound calm, collected, but your ears and neck feel hot, "not a make-out session."
Technicalities and loopholes.
L has that look you can't quite pinpoint yet know far too well. You've seen it many times before. When he thinks about something but keeps it to himself for now.
"You look more lively," he remarks eventually. "Healthy complexion suits you."
You don't need to hear what he says next, because the words already ring through your head.
"I told you it would benefit us both."
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mythvoiced · 1 month
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OPEN STARTER | Patrick Finch
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"I condone lying. I encourage it, even. I recommend it. I could hardly live without it."
#;open starter#the wolf;patrick#the wolf;open#he's always the most difficult one GOSH#also you must envision he's saying this with this weird open deadpan stare where he#well how do i put it: he's clearly fucking with you but he does it with such an open genuine expression#i mean he does condone lying he's not lying here (LKDSG!!!) but he is also fucking around#so this is Patrick he's 37 or anywhere around that age he's agender primarily he/him pronouns bc whatever yknow#the agender vibes of WHATEVER i know what i'm talking about trust me i have a phd in agenderism#anyways he's an informant but about as unorthodox as you can imagine he's just fucking around and finding out frankly#very depressed very jumpy very good at hiding it lmao he's my darling ♥#he is very motherly somehow i can't explain it#he has somewhat of a history in accidentally attempting to adopt powerful young women i don't know why he???#knee-jerks into wanting to be a mother figure i don't know him that well you guys#like he met suki (ferre's kamipyre) for a few minutes one time and#days after he was wondering if she'd wore a jacket because it was cold out like--#men don't get the same kindness if you're a charming kind-hearted competent warm and humorous DAD kind of guy he's unfortunately#emotionally attracted to you? unfortunately because he hates it~ but if you're any other kind of guy you're just... you're some guy to him#yes if you're young he'll adopt you too but begrudgingly-- KLDGFGKLFDHGJF#if you're a they/them you're his kid already are you kidding that's your mum#OH I JUST HAD A TERRIBLE THOUGHT so do you know om*g*verse?? regardless of how you feel about it#it do be a thing and i just had this horrible thought about how if pat were a real guy in an established canon#he'd probs get the feminisation treatment amiright?? NO LISTEN HE USED TO BE A HUGE WOLF#AND HE'S ACTUALLY FILLED WITH SO MUCH RAGE AND WRONGED PRIDE#patrick is gentle when he likes you and because he's Smart he doesn't just BITE out of nowhere he's always been like that#Fenris was known for being INCREDIBLY well-spoken BUT ALSO A HUGE PROUD WOLF#LIKE BIG WOLF-- it doesn't show but he's Very Proud and STRONG and ??????#;queue#i picked a gif came back and realized i lost it there for a sec NO MATTER makes for good entertainment
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sukunasweetheart · 3 months
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oh, to fit him like a glove...
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WARNINGS; ooc sukuna, virgin!reader (well... not for long), size kink, BREEDING, vaginal fingering, sukuna only has one dick here cuz i wanted to make it less complicated, COCKWARMING, stomach bulge, degradation, praise, sukuna is a four armed king, overstimulation, mouth-hands, EXCESSIVE CUM
based on this anon's ask! dividers credit; @/cafekitsune
word count; 3k
imagine being sukuna's precious princess of a wife-- whom he spoils and dotes on because its in his interests to do so. like any other woman, youre tiny compared to him, so having you take his cock eventually will be very tedious work, and sukuna will need a lot of patience.
and we all know, sukuna is the most patient man in the world... at least when it means that it'll be worth it for him at the end. and to him, you are worth everything.
he's proud and pleased to be your first... sukuna can't help but feel keen about the idea that he will be the only one ever to have had the pleasure of being so intimate with you.
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he watches you intently, as you struggle to take even two of his thick fingers in your tight hole, tearing up and whimpering as he tampers with those delicate spots inside you.
"nngh.. sukuna... that feels so good..." you whimper his name delightfully, it almost makes his enduring patience snap.
outwardly, his face looks calm as he looks down at you with soft lust that takes the form of an almost blank expression.
"does it?" he asks, with a certain playfulness in his voice.
his fingers move a little faster, scissoring you inside and pressing in an upwards manner, where it makes you gasp the most. you're producing so much slick, but your hole is still so tight and unrelenting, clenching around his thick digits even more. sukuna thinks about good it'd feel if his dick was inside instead, and he feels himself aching with desire, twitching and leaking precum from his hidden erection.
...not yet.
he dutifully touches you to your orgasm, and watches with a hitched breath as you tremble on his fingers, walls fluttering against them. your sighs and soft moans reach his ears like nothing else.
his extra hands grope at your breasts, finding solace in them.
"do you think i'm ready yet?" you ask tenderly, after your breath returns to normal.
"... hardly, my love. that was only two of my fingers," sukuna tells you languidly, as he feeds your slick on his digits to the mouth on his stomach.
"only two? oh dear..." you sigh with sorrow, "will i ever be able to take you whole one day?"
he smirks at the question, and leans down into your chest while holding ahold of your hand.
"well of course. i'll make it happen no matter what. i promise."
the way he says it sends a shiver down your spine.
when it does happen, you best be ready for him to breed you full every night.
however, on some days, the urge gets unbearable, even for himself. he's been saving himself up a little, so he could pour everything inside you when the time comes, but the lust gets overwhelming, clouding his sight and judgement.
one night, you gesture towards the bulge in his pants, with a shaking hand.
"what about you? isn't it painful to always withhold yourself like that?" you ask, wanting for him to feel good as well, instead of just yourself.
sukuna grows silent, sweating bullets as his dick throbs upon your mention of it.
the next minute, he's taking it out and slotting it between your thighs, rubbing up against your slit and seeing how the size compares to your stomach.
the temptation is too great.
not. yet.
this was the whole reason he was avoiding using his cock with your body in the first place - because he was afraid he'd cave in and attempt to deflower you when you weren't ready yet, still too tight for him to squeeze in, causing you pain only.
if it were anyone else, he wouldn't bother... but you're one that he cherishes too much... he wants to work to make the end result even tastier. the moment where he'll finally claim you entirely.
the bed creaks as he thrusts in and out between your thighs, rubbing his twitching dick against your hole oozing with slick, also brushing up onto your clit that's swollen from arousal.
" 'm sorry... i wish... there was more i could do..." you whimper sweetly, squeezing one of his large hands.
"there's no need for that. whatever i can't put inside you now... i'll pump in twice as much, once you're ready for me," sukuna whispers gently, holding your hand back, a groan resounding in the back of his throat.
rewards become so much sweeter after restraint. like how you wouldn't pick and eat an unripe fruit from a tree.
"you're doing plenty enough for me... for now," he tells you breathlessly. he adores the glossy look in your eyes.
his cock continues to glide back and forth, and he feels so hot between your thighs.
"i... i want your tip inside when you cum, please," you say, eyeing his dick with a certain neediness.
"are you sure, love?" he asks, hoping you'll say yes. you nod fervently.
sukuna feels lightheaded at the thought of it, all the while his dick gets more and more sensitive against your thighs... his balls feel so heavy and full, all those times he held himself back coming to catch up on him.
you squeeze your legs around him harder, making him groan, cock pulsing for all it's worth. he thinks about how tightly your walls would clamp around him. the heat from your insides, and your slick covering his shaft. he's close.
he suddenly spreads your legs.
at this stage, he's only barely able to get his tip past your entrance. it's possible when he does it slowly enough. you whine beneath him, doing your best to not go against his arms that are pinning your legs down.
a drop of sweat rolls down the side of his face. sukuna uses an extra hand to stroke the rest of his dick as his tip remains snug inside your puckering hole. when it comes, he gives a choked-off gasp from how good his first-in-a-while release feels.
he has to bite the inside of his cheek to stop himself from burying himself any further.
the ropes of cum seep and trickle into your womb in thick, heavy spurts, and the hotness of it gets you breathing unevenly, being so aroused by this sensation. there's a copious amount. he continues jerking himself off to get every last droplet out, and his own hand can feel the intense twitches of the veins on his erection.
it's not nearly enough to satisfy him, but it's enough to keep him patient.
once his tip pops out from your wet hole again, his spend come out of it in large globs, and sukuna can't help but admire the sight, his dick twitching weakly in his hand.
he abstains from cumming all over again for another few weeks- another few weeks of stretching you out with his fingers, and prepping you to perfection.
when the day finally creeps up, where he believes you're ready to take him whole, sukuna hears and feels his heartbeat in his own ears.
ever so slowly. he's sitting down on the edge of the bed, and he has you lower yourself on his throbbing cock as he's face to face with you, ever so slowly. your body trembles lightly and he feels it on his hands and fingers as they're placed against your hips. sukuna senses your anxiousness that flows from you in large waves.
your hole is so tight, trying to push the intrusion out, but the wetness from your slick helps his cock slip inside easier, and sukuna's breath is kept within the back of his throat as you swallow him up deeper and deeper.
he's sweating. you're sweating. but soon enough, you're sat on his lap completely, having gotten all of him inside you at last. you can barely breathe with how tightly you enclose around him. how his cock is nudged up snugly against your cervix, pushing the literal air out of your lungs. and the way you feel it twitching inside.
sukuna has never been more patient, more self disciplined, more repressed than in this moment. one wrong movement and he feels like he could snap and start thrusting in without concern for you in any moment. no. he shouldn't do that. it would ruin all everything he's done to build you up for this moment.. but your walls keep tauntingly squeezing around him...
"i- i can finally fit all of you inside..." you say with glee, tears on your lashes, but looking very proud of yourself. it snaps him back to sanity, a little bit.
"of course... you were made for me, after all. so perfectly mine, fitting me like a glove," sukuna mumbles, as his bigger tongue licks against your clit, arousing you more so that you could loosen up for him. his praise gets to your head and makes you feel sheepish, wanting to do more to please him. but you don't think you can do that, just yet.
"can we stay like this for a bit, please?"
"that would be...for the best. can't have my wife splitting in half, can i?" sukuna jests rather sinisterly.
"oh, you..." you pout at him. the larger tongue rubs against you more persistently to distract you, and he smirks as it does the trick. you whimper, and your walls pulse gently around him making him groan. your eyes get half lidded, already feeling somewhat exhausted, and you lean your face against the large man's chest.
veins are bulging out of his arms, and one on his forehead. you seem so relaxed, unbeknownst to the fact that he's currently doing everything to keep himself together. you're like a tiny mouse trapped in the claws of a tiger.
sukuna starts to bite and kiss down your neck and shoulder to satiate himself.
few minutes after you've calmed yourself a little, your eyes start wandering down, taking notice of the bump on your stomach, from having him inside you.
"it goes without saying, but you're so big..." you press against it without thinking, and you feel him throb inside you intensely. sukuna grabs your wrist with a growl.
"are you trying to test my patience right now?"
you look at him with wide eyes, from how unusually on edge he is... something about him being all restless makes you feel aroused. you're doing that to him. a man who rarely ever feels. but you've gotten him all sensitive.
" 'm sorry. kiss me?" you ask sweetly, lips curling up in a foxy way.
his gaze softens.
"when you ask me so sweetly... i can't deny you, can i?"
and he leans down to press his lips onto yours, despite seeing the mischief in your eyes. your arms go around his neck, and as he's kissing you, his hands go for your breasts.
you tighten up on his leaking dick, making him moan into your mouth. his grip on your hips squeeze harder, but he doesn't stop kissing you.
you want to make him cum. you want him to lose control from being inside you.
sukuna breaks the kiss with a little choked off heave, when you begin to roll your hips around him slightly.
"you're getting awfully ahead of yourself-"
you cut him off by latching your mouth to the side of his neck, suckling and running your tongue against his skin while your hips keep moving.
he'd call you cute, but it's working. sukuna grits his teeth and his eyes get heavy lidded, dick getting impossibly harder. his heavy breathing adds to your excitement.
"i never knew my wife was such a whore. i'll be sure to return this favour later," sukuna tells you with a low voice, his hands now guiding your hips against him.
you're wordless, as you continue running your lips and tongue up his skin, moving onto his jawline, only giving a whine in response, feeling his tip press into the entrance of your womb.
such lousy movement usually wouldn't be near enough for him, but...
his head lulls back, exposing the way his adam's apple bobs up and down as he swallows thickly, getting close... your little kitten thrusts and the way you're tonguing the sensitive area under his jaw...
sukuna's hips jolt into you for the last time.
" 'm cumming-"
his mouth hangs open as he releases - dumping weeks' worth of seed into your cunt. his body jerks against you and you bite into his shoulder.
his cock throbs erotically in your clamping walls, and you milk him effortlessly, and you moan on his neck, while still suckling and tonguing the same area, feeling the hotness of his cum as it thickly pours into you, making your belly swell a bit from it.
sukuna groans as he seeds your womb properly for the first time, two hands on your hips, one against the back of your neck, and the remaining arm wrapped around your waist to keep you still as his dick pulses inside you.
your head is whirring from the tense situation, being creampied so lewdly for the first time, to think that he's released inside, and the feeling of his every breath as he orgasms, is enough to make you feel so exhilarated.
suddenly, he stills.
it makes you a little nervous, so you detach your upper body from him and aim to look at his expression. but before you can make any further movement, you're suddenly thrown onto your back against the soft mattress of the bed in the speed of light. he keeps himself buried in you, making sure to plug you up nicely.
when you meet his eyes after a shocked gasp, you see his darkened expression, his eyebrows furrowed, but his mouth curved up in a toothy, sinister grin.
"you really tested me back there, didn't you?" he rasps, grabbing your face and forcing you to keep your gaze on him.
"i hope you're aware that i'm not letting you get a wink of sleep tonight."
not a word gets out of your mouth, before sukuna pulls his dick back, and slams his hips into you, his thick cock dragging against your tight walls.
your voicebox makes a noise that you never thought was possible, a noise that's mixed with both a moan and a scream.
"oh, fuck..." sukuna mumbles gutturally, beginning to thrust in and out of you the way he's always wanted to. your hands fist the sheets behind your head, and his hands keep your legs spread apart for him, while the other two pinch at your breasts roughly, groping at your flesh so brazenly.
his heavy balls slap against your ass as his hips rut into you, making sure to drive himself in to the hilt, before pulling out to the tip and doing that all over again.
you squeal and mewl under him, eyes watering from pleasure and already getting overstimulated as he fucks you senseless. to think that only a few weeks ago, you were only able to fit two of his fingers. it all feels like a fever dream.
sukuna breathes heavily, his muscles glistening from his own sweat as he indulges in his reward, his reward of you, and your cunt that is finally nice and loose for him, sheathing him so nicely, coating his dick with your slick like the harlot you are. his laboured breaths stutter when your walls pulse around him as you reach your orgasm-- your head tilting back into the mattress.
cock leaking more precum into you, sukuna's eyes become half lidded again as he gets close to his second release.
"you're gonna drive me crazy," he grunts, as his tip reaches your cervix again and again and again.
his thrusts become erratic, and then halts as he busts another thick load into you, making you cry out pitifully.
"fuuck, fuck, fuck...." sukuna shudders, leaning down on his forearms, getting so close that you feel his breath ghosting against your skin, while his other two hands grip onto the sides of your hips. his pecs rub up into your tits and the tongue from his stomach messily laps away at your clit as he empties his balls into you, your pussy seemingly trying to squeeze him dry.
all of his eyes close up as he then kisses you like he's trying to swallow up your tongue. you whimper against his lips, doing your best to reciprocate, struggling to keep up with the pace of this kiss.
he breaks away from your lips.
"c'mon, not good enough. put your tongue into it more," he instructs breathlessly, with somewhat of a disappointed expression. your mind is too hazy from the intense lust but you give a short nod with teary eyes, which makes him smirk before pushing his lips onto you again.
you kiss him back the most you can, and he hums in pleasure, your tongue finally intertwining with his. it distracts you from how full you feel right now, even with only two of his loads in you.
his thrusts slowly start back up again.
"s-sukuna-!" you gasp, breaking the kiss.
"i warned you... it's gonna be a long night," sukuna tells you. he seems to have become more sound of mind after that second orgasm.
"give me more..." he mutters, leaning against the crook of your neck, and licking a stripe up against it, "my precious wife."
your arms wrap around his neck, holding him tight. he grins, and you feel it on your skin.
... eventually when his third load fills you up, he's running his tongue against the shell of your ear, two mouths sucking at each of your nipples, from the way he clasped his palms over your breasts at the last second.
you're trembling beneath him, tears now running down the side of your face, babbling nonsensical words at him.
sukuna leans back to run his third hand through his disheveled hair to slick it up again, and he grins at your state of overstimulation. he feels so good inside you. it was worth waiting and preparing you for so long.
once your orgasm subsides a bit, he finally detaches his mouth-hands away from your tits, making a line of saliva stretch between in the process. then, the mouths disappear. your body relaxes. but sukuna's cock is still inside you.
"you alright, my love?" he asks smugly, looking down at your state of fatigue caused by intense pleasure.
you mumble out something of a 'yes', and he chuckles. his eyes trail down to your now slightly pudgy stomach.
"you're so full with me, my dear wife. haha, it's quite the lovely sight," sukuna tells you softly, pressing his hand down softly against the swell of your tummy. you jolt a little, whining.
"sukuna... too full..."
he leans down closer to your face and wipes the sweat off your forehead, before bringing his lips to the same area gently.
"we can stay like this for a few minutes. rest up. but we're not done yet."
he hasn't even had the chance to sink his teeth into you yet. just a little more. you can do that for him, can't you?
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Masterlist
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barbarastreisandof · 6 months
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Blocking out her name and picture to protect her from harassment, but this is a Palestinian journalist reporting out of Gaza who I've personally had contact with through Twitter.
Money and aid is not getting through. Crowdfunding is not helpful. Ordering things is not helpful. Buying keffiyehs that say the money goes to Gaza is not helpful.
Gaza is a concentration camp - nothing is getting in or out that Israel does not approve of and right now Israel wants people dead or dying.
Most of social media, and tumblr is no exception, skews toward "taking action" being things that put you at zero risk and only ask for money or bits of time, or sometimes just doing nothing and calling it a boycott. "Call your rep!" "Buy this thing!" "Share this link!"
The reality is that you get out what you put in and if it was easy and low risk and comfortable for you to do it, then that is the level of impact it is having - low, comfortable to ignore, and flimsy.
Palestine, Gaza and increasingly the West Bank, NEEDS real help and the reality is we do not have the power as individuals to give it.
We DO have the power to band together and influence things collectively and the best way to do that is to loudly unequivocally express our anger and clarity of purpose.
So that does mean calling reps and being polite and firm and brief and giving your real address because otherwise they can't confirm you're a constituent and they'll ignore you. "Hello, my name is ______ and I am calling as a constituent to demand representative/senator _______ support aid to Gaza and to call for an end to support for all support to Israel."
It is important that your support for Gaza include opposition to Israel - there is no supporting Gaza while supporting Israel, it genuinely is one or the other.
Tear down pro-Israel posters. Tear down those fake kidnapped propaganda posters. Show up to rallies and marches where you can and if you can't, find out who's organizing them and get in touch to offer your support and help. Talk to family and friends. LEARN! Read up on these things and teach yourself history so you can better advocate and push back on propaganda.
Be willing to have people not like you. Losing friends over this is, and I don't mean to be cold here, nothing. It doesn't matter. Fuck em. If advocating against genocide costs you friendships and gets people calling you antisemitic, fuck em, good riddance. Privately process the loss of those relationships if they really matter to you, but publicly don't give it air because this is not a time to be focused on the feelings of people who cannot bring themselves to oppose ethnic cleansing.
The culture is shifting, support for Palestine is growing and it NEEDS to continue and we have the power to make sure it does.
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antikosm · 3 months
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Aro/Ace Terms Masterlist
Please let me know if I forgot anything
NOTE: There is a distinct difference between someone's personal orientation versus how they feel about sexuality/romanticism as a whole. Someone who's sex/romance repulsed may be in favour of open sexual/romantic expression or even vice versa (shoutout to @sowearecleariamhere for informing me of this!)
Types of attraction
Sexual - I wanna have sex with that
Romantic - I want to date that
Sensual - I want to hug that
Platonic - I want to be friends with that
Platonic crushes do exist. They are called “squishes”. You go through the same process of having a romantic or sexual crush but instead of landing them in bed, you’re on the floor at 2am with pizza rolls, Shrek in the background, talking about eldritch monstrosities (or whatever your shared interest is)
Aesthetic - that looks so heckin’ cool/pretty I love it
Intellectual - the desire to engage with another in an intellectual manner, i.e. having a conversation, picking their brain, and finding out how they think
Terms describing degree of attraction
Aromantic - lack of romantic attraction
Asexual - lack of sexual attraction
Aplatonic - lack of platonic attraction
Aroace - lack of both sexual and romantic attraction
Demi - attraction only forms once a strong emotional bond has been formed
Grey/gray - rarely/seldom experiences attraction
Allosexual - someone who experiences sexual attraction
I think I’ve also heard/seen it referred to as ‘arosexual’ but that’s honestly a bit confusing
Alloromantic - someone who experiences romantic attraction
I personally shorten both of those to “allo” (pronounced ‘aloe’)
Apothiosexual - sex-repulsed
Apothioromantic - romance-repulsed
Apothiaroace - often shortened to just ‘apothi’. In addition to being aroace, apothis are repulsed by romantic/sexual scenes, items, displays, etc. to varying degrees
Sex-neutral and sex-positive/favourable aces exist as well
Not all of us have the same level of comfort with sexual and romantic activities so please check. I mean that applies to everyone anyway, but please check and don’t assume that just because someone is aro/ace, that doesn’t mean they are sex/romance repulsed
Queerplatonic - Queerplatonic typically refers to a relationship that bends the lines between a romantic relationship and a non-romantic relationship. A queerplatonic relationship (QPR) often goes beyond what is socially acceptable for a platonic relationship but does not fit the typical notion of a romantic relationship.
Alterous attraction - a type of emotional attraction to someone that isn’t entirely romantic or platonic.
Chastity - actively refraining from sexual activities. This is NOT part of the ace/aro spectrum, though it is a common assumption when someone says they are ace/aro. Thankfully we’re getting a bit more representation in media now so it’s not as common of an assumption as it used to be, but it’s still there, especially in those communities.
An absolute FANTASTIC addition by @heyftinally in case anyone doesn't see the repost
Gonna expand on sex favorable/neutral/repulsed, since this is a masterlist after all: - Sex favorable - regardless of your sexual orientation, you personally want to engage in sexual activity with someone (significant other, one night stand, friends with benefits, etc) - Sex neutral - if you're with someone who wants to engage in sexual activities then you may or may not, depending on a variety of factors, but you have no strong inclinations for or against engaging in sex itself as an activity. Basically it's "alright" Sex repulsed/averse - the idea of personally engaging in sexual activities makes you want to hurl/cry/claw your skin off/spontaneously combust. If someone suggested doing sexual activities together, you would probably vehemently say "No!" before they even finished the question. You would rather do anything else - Sex positive - refers to your attitudes about sex in general. Regardless of where you fall in the above three terms, you recognize that other people want to, and should have the freedom and right to, engage in consensual sexual activities, even if you personally don't like or want those activities. Essentially shorthand for "I respect the right of other adults to have gay sex, have gender-weird sex, have sex with multiple people in and out of monogamous relationships/marriages, and have weird, wild, freaky kinky sex, so long as all participants and consenting adults". You can still personally want zero sex for yourself or think a particular kink is weird/ick, but you can, in tumblr speak, be normal about consenting adults doing consenting adult stuff - Sex negative - conservative purity culture, basically. You think nobody should have sex ever, or at least not until marriage, and when they do it should only be the "right" or "good" kind, as arbitrarily decided by you/society/some collective. You think badly of, look down on, and may even treat badly anyone who doesn't have the "right" kind of sex in your opinion. You are not normal about consenting adults doing consenting adult activities (even though they don't involve you in any way)
A wonderful addition from @overlord-of-chaos Sex aversion is not the same thing as sex repulsed.
If you are sex adverse, you personally have no desire to partake in any of those actions but seeing or knowing other people partake in that doesn't bother you.
Sex repulsion is when you can't stand doing it yourself, seeing/hearing about/knowing that others partake in it, or even just the idea of it.
Microlabels/Terms describing flavour of attraction
Note: -sexual is used for many of these so we don't have to deal with duplicates confusing things. All of these prefixes can be used with -romantic, -sexual, -platonic, and I imagine -alterous as well
Abrosexual - orientation fluctuates between a variety of orientations
Aceflux - similar to abrosexual, but orientation is contained to asexual spectrum
Acespike - someone who is asexual but may experience intense, brief, and random bouts of sexual attraction
Aegosexual - disconnect between oneself and the target of arousal
Amicusromantic/sexual - only experiences romantic attraction to those who they have formed a platonic relationship with (subset of demi)
Angled aroace - the same as oriented, but for those who are demi, grey, flux, etc.
Anthrosexual - someone who is attracted to humans and alterhumans regardless of gender identity/expression
Bellussexual - has interest in the aesthetic/aspects/certain sexual actions, but does not experience sexual attraction or want a sexual relationship
Caedsexual - previously allo, but now ace due to past trauma
Cupiosexual - wanting a sexual relationship but not experiencing sexual attraction
Finsexual/gynesexual - attraction to femininity
Fraysexual - opposite of demi. Attraction dissipates once an emotional connection has been formed
Linsexual - attraction to androgyny
Lithosexual - experiencing sexual attraction but not wanting it to be reciprocated
Loveless Romantic/Lovelessromantic - those who cannot feel love or feel disconnected from love but can feel romantic attraction/don't feel disconnected from the concept of romance
Minsexual/androsexual - attraction to masculinity
Orchid - the opposite of cupio; experiences ____ attraction but has no desire for a relationship of that type
Placiosexual - not wanting to be on the receiving end of sexual activities but wishing to perform them on others
Quiosexual - unable to distinguish between sexual attraction and other forms of attraction
Qui(r)oromantic - inability to distinguish between platonic and romantic attraction
Reciprosexual - not experiencing sexual attraction towards someone until you discover they experience sexual attraction towards you
Requiessexual - similar to caedsexual, but rather than trauma, ace identity originates from a state of emotional exhaustion, usually from a past sexual experience
Oriented aroace -  an aromantic asexual (aroace) individual who experiences a form of tertiary attraction, that they feel is significant enough to warrant a place alongside their aroace orientation. (i.e. gay aroace, bi aroace)
Angled aroace - someone who is on the aroace spectrum (grey, demi, fray, etc) who experiences a type of attraction significant enough to stand alongside their aroace orientation
Examples of mixed orientations
Heteroromantic asexual biplatonic
Poly greyromantic pansexual
Apothi abroplatonic
Placiosexual aromantic finplatonic
Aroace cupioplatonic
Pan lithioromantic
Fraysexual biromantic aplatonic
You can get WAY more specific than what these cover, but just to give a general idea
Amatonormativity
Amatonormativity is the assumption that all human beings pursue love or romance, especially by means of a monogamous long-term relationship. The term was coined by Elizabeth Brake, in her book Minimizing Marriage: Marriage, Morality, and the Law (2011).
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feyascorner · 2 months
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Okay perhaps this sounds odd but imagine Astarion starts to disassociate while intimate with Tav and so he uses their established safe word, only to be bewildered when Tav actually listens to him and stops and asks if he’s okay and tries to comfort him because nobody has cared that much before 😢
OH GODS WHY WOULD YOU DO THIS TO ME (i love it) warning for suggestive content :)
For as long as Astarion's been genuinely intimate with you, for no other reasons but simply because of the affection the two of you hold for one another, he has always been in control.
It soothes him, in a way, to be on top. And as much as he enjoys watching you come undone beneath him, there's a more frustrating reason behind why he always feels the need to be the one to push you down onto whatever surface he deems decent enough at the time. From above you, he can see every little twitch in your body, every shift in your expression, and most of all, he can control what's happening, unlike his centuries spent as a seductive tool for Cazador's own needs.
He knows you're not like those fools. He knows you're different, and you're special to him. But the gnawing voice in the back of his head always forces him to pull you in, to hold you closer, to make love to you.
It's fucked up in so many ways.
"I want to make you feel as good as you make me feel."
But when you look up at him with those imploring, loving eyes, the voice seems to go quiet. He swallows the dryness of his throat, unable to think of anything but how wonderful your touch feels on his skin, and he thinks he could drown in this forever. He's putty in your hands, whether he wants to admit it or not.
"Well? Don't be a tease just standing there, darling."
In what feels like minutes, he's a mess. He's making sounds he shouldn't be making, fingertips digging into your hips as if they're the anchors keeping him from finishing too early. He breathes heavily into the crook of your neck, groaning when you caress the sharp tip of his ear between your fingers.
The only thing keeping him from spilling is the impending embarrassment he'd feel for doing so this early on in the night.
Then, everything stops.
"You're so beautiful," you whisper.
They're only words. They're not ones he's heard little of---in fact, he's heard it too much in the past two hundred years. In an instant, memories of the nights he spent under strangers, forced to shove his mind into its darkest corners just to get through their own pleasures, flood his consciousness. The sickening taste in his mouth afterward, and the need to rub his skin till it goes raw were not uncommon. It was routine. A sick part of his life that he'd rather forget.
You don't mean it the same way they did. They only said things like that because that's all they could say. They didn't know him as anything but the husk of a body he resided in. He knows you are saying the words to him. Not to his body but to the very person he is.
But the word comes spilling out his mouth, and immediately, you freeze.
You actually stopped.
Of course, you would. You're you.
"Are you okay? Did I do something?" you reach to cup either of his cheeks, and he stares at you as if you're a star that's fallen from the sky. He blinks, slowly.
"I don't know, I just---" he searches for words. "--you haven't done anything wrong, darling."
You wait for him to finish patiently. Gods, he doesn't deserve this. He doesn't deserve you.
"I only remembered something I'd rather not," he plasters a crooked grin on his face. "It's quite alright. We can continue now if I haven't ruined the mood."
You pull away from him, and he fears you'll leave.
Moments later, you return with a glass of water. Wordlessly, you hand it to him, and he only stares at it, confused beyond belief. Only once he notices the way you gesture to the glass does he drink it, and you finally climb back into bed, lying down beside him.
"Come here," you open your arm, motioning him to come closer.
"Darling, as much as I'm all for experimenting, that's a strange position to have sex in."
You smile, shaking your head. You don't explain any further, only continuing to hold out your arm.
Hesitant though curious, he slowly lies down beside you, his head just above your chest and slotted between the space below your chin. With gentle hands, you pull him closer and toss the blanket over both of your bodies.
It's warm. Strange, but warm.
"You don't have to wear a mask with me," you whisper.
His eyes grow wide, and his chest stills. He doesn't have many tears left after 239 years, but there's an unfamiliar squeeze in his chest that tells him if he were still 39 and alive, he might have. Astarion wraps his arms around your waist, burying his face into where he can hear the steady beating of your heart.
Later, when your eyes begin to droop, he mumbles.
"Tell me I'm beautiful again."
"You're beautiful," you say softly. "With or without your pretty face."
You might be imagining it, but you feel him smile against your skin.
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appocalipse · 1 month
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that guy ⊹ steve harrington
summary: After he's been to yet another failed date with yet another random pretty girl, Steve Harrington, your best friend, stops by at the diner your family owns for a late-night chat, same as he'd done a thousand times before. Steve is totally unaware of how much he's hurting you with his endless parade of dates, because after all — the two of you are only friends and nothing more, right? It's not like you have any secret feelings for him… | 2.6k words
── ࣪˖ ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ──
The moment Steve steps through the glass doors of the diner, you wonder, for about the millionth time that month alone, what is it that you've done so wrong to deserve this kind of punishment.
It's Friday night, and on Friday nights, Steve Harrington goes on dates. It's just like clockwork, really: he meets a pretty girl, thinks she's the one, takes her out on a date, realizes quickly enough that she isn't quite what he was looking for, then comes here after having dropped her back home to sulk with you, in the diner that your family runs, still clad in the outfit he'd chosen especially for his failed date.
To be honest, he never looks sad, per se — more like disappointed. Frustrated, maybe.
You watch as he weaves around tables occupied by laughing friends, past booths filled with couples sharing desserts, then slides into a seat in front of you at the bar. Steve sits down with an exhausted sigh, ruffling up his hair before shooting you a tired smile.
"Hi."
You don't look up from where you're polishing the counter. "Bad date again?"
"Not even close. She talked about horses non-stop."
A quiet laugh slips past your lips despite yourself, and finally, you tear your gaze off the dark wooden surface of the counter to look up at him; he's got this pleased little smile on his face, the corners of his eyes crinkled ever so slightly in the way they always do whenever he succeeds at making you laugh, even if just a little.
How are you supposed to keep acting like nothing's wrong when he looks at you like that?
You clear your throat awkwardly and make yourself busy stacking clean glasses next to the coffee machine.
"So...not the one, I take it?"
Steve leans forward against the counter and props his head up with his hand, sighing deeply.
"I'm starting to think she won't ever show up," he says quietly, running his other hand through his hair. You chance another glance at him and note how genuinely worried he looks. It breaks your heart almost as much as it annoys you. "What is it that's wrong with me, huh? I just don't get it."
"Nothing is wrong with you."
"You don't need to be nice to me. We've been friends since forever, remember?"
The word 'friends' makes you wince a little bit inside, but you hide the reaction behind a neutral frown. "Do you think there's something wrong with me? Because I haven't found the one yet either, you know."
Steve's expression softens as he looks at you, and once again you feel that horrible twinge in your stomach that you wish would just stop already.
"It's different. I mean—you're not actively trying to find someone." He reaches out to pull one of the half-melted mints out from the glass bowl on the counter and pops it into his mouth with a shrug. "I go out looking for her and she just doesn't come. If she even exists, that is."
"She does."
"Well, thanks for the vote of confidence, but I wouldn't hold my breath. God, why am I such an idiot, y'know?" Steve slumps over the counter with a groan, burying his face into his crossed arms. "My love life is a trainwreck."
"At least you have one."
He glances up at you curiously and lifts an eyebrow. "What does that mean?"
"Nothing. Forget it. Do you want some pie?"
You're not about to tell him what you've only admitted to yourself mere months ago — that you're actually hopelessly, madly, stupidly in love with him, and that you have been ever since the two of you were just dumb kids racing around your parents' diner.
What makes it even worse is that you had no idea your feelings went that deep until Steve started going on these dates of his again. Before then, everything was normal — you met up every weekend and binged on candy, watched bad movies on your couch, drove around town together blasting The Clash on his BMW's speakers...it was good.
Until it wasn't.
"Wait, c'mon, you can't just leave me hanging like that," Steve presses. He shifts a little on his stool to better face you, then gestures at you with his hands. "You've clearly got something you wanna say, so, like—hit me. Lay it on me."
"Nothing. I'm just saying...at least you're trying, you know," you say carefully, measuring each word before speaking them. "And at least you're the one doing the rejecting. Could be worse."
Steve's eyebrows rise high up on his forehead and he looks at you incredulously. "Whoa, wait—are you trying to tell me you've been rejected?"
You busy yourself by filling two tall glasses with soda, then slide one to his side of the counter and keep the other for yourself. "Uh...kind of, yeah. But it's fine."
"But who the hell would even do that?" he blurts out. There's anger in his voice all of a sudden, a defensive fire in his eyes that makes you feel as if someone has punched you in the gut. "To you? You're like, the nicest person on the planet, and super pretty to boot. That's just—that's crazy!"
Your heart gives a violent little jump in your chest. He thinks you're pretty. Steve Harrington thinks you're pretty.
Pretty as a friend, you correct yourself immediately, and sigh as you sip your drink. Of course, it's nothing more than that — just meaningless words spoken in a moment of unthinking kindness.
"Seriously, who?" he presses on. "Give me a name. I'll fight him."
"You mean like you fought Jonathan Byers?" you smile behind your glass, looking at him from over its rim.
Steve looks embarrassed at the memory and drops his gaze for a second or two before meeting your eyes again with a playful little smile of his own. "Different situation, okay, but that's not the point. So? Who's the guy?"
"You...don't know him," you hedge.
"It's Hawkins. I know the stray cats here by name."
"Fine, well, even if you did know him, it doesn't matter. He didn't reject me, exactly...not really."
Steve frowns a little. "Okay, you're gonna have to start making sense now. This is hurting my head."
The funny thing is, he actually looks confused, as if he can't possibly fathom the idea of someone rejecting you. It's sweet, really — way too sweet for your liking, especially when you know fully well he doesn't see you in the way you'd want him to.
You lower your gaze to avoid his and instead focus on drawing random shapes on the counter with your index finger, where tiny droplets of condensation from your glass have pooled up on the dark wood. "I mean, I never really told him how I felt. Not directly. It just…never happened."
"Oh. Well, then how do you even know if he feels the same way?" he asks you, looking rather doubtful.
You steal another glance at him and almost regret it instantly. His eyes are trained on your face, patient and attentive like you're the only thing worth watching in the world. It makes you feel horribly small and selfish and guilty, because after all, what right do you have to want him when he so clearly wants someone else?
You feel like you could cry. You might, if you don't distract yourself with something fast enough.
"I just know. Do you want some pie? I'll go get you some pie."
Without waiting for a response, you rush off to the kitchen even though there's plenty of pies sitting on the display counter at the bar, and you make a beeline straight for the back exit.
The alley behind the diner is blissfully empty as usual, just a lonely dumpster and a handful of sad-looking shrubs and weeds peeking out from under the concrete.
No, you aren't going to cry.
This is stupid.
You press your back against the rough brick wall of the diner and breathe in deep the warm night air, then exhale slowly as you count to ten in your head.
When the door opens behind you and the diner's familiar chatter and clatter of cutlery spill into the alley, you wince, mentally cursing yourself for being so goddamn weak. You should have known better.
You don't have to look up to know that it's him.
"Are you hiding from me?" Steve's voice comes, quiet and curious and maybe just a little bit hurt, even.
"I got...suddenly nauseous," you explain weakly, still refusing to look up and meet his eyes.
There's a long stretch of silence, and you feel Steve move closer to you until he's leaning against the wall by your side. You finally look up and find him smiling, this gentle, amused little thing that makes your traitorous heart skip a beat.
"You look just fine to me."
You stare up at the sky, head against the wall. "I thought I was gonna throw up."
He's still watching you, you can tell; you're keenly aware of his eyes on you, so much so that your skin prickles at the attention. "No, you didn't."
"No, I didn't," you admit with a sigh, and turn your head to finally look at him. He's got this little half-smile on his lips, the very same one you fell for years ago, and you curse yourself silently for never learning how to let him go. Really let him go.
"Hey. Listen. You don't have to tell me, okay?" Steve says gently, pushing himself off the wall to step closer to you. He brings his hand up to your face and tucks a loose lock of hair behind your ear, letting his fingertips linger on the edge of your jaw for the briefest of moments, just long enough for you to wonder whether he knows what he's doing to you.
You don't dare to move. You're afraid of breaking whatever spell has seemingly come over him.
"I should've never asked. That was selfish."
"Forget it," you say.
He's standing close now, close enough that you have to tilt your chin up to be able to look up at him properly. There's a strange kind of tension in his eyes, something dark and unsure and tentative, and his gaze darts down to your lips just the slightest bit.
You're fairly sure you're just seeing what you want to see, your foolish heart playing tricks on you. But you panic nonetheless, feeling a sudden, irrational fear that if he moves any closer, he'll realize the truth — that you're a liar and a coward, that you've been harboring these feelings of yours for him for years.
"I should—I should go. Back inside," you mutter, pointing vaguely at the door with your thumb. "In there."
"Sure, yeah. Okay. In there," he echoes, not making a single move to leave. "Not out here."
"Yup. Exactly. In there."
"So you said."
"Yep."
The wall of the diner is digging into your spine uncomfortably, and your mouth is dry, and your knees feel weak, and your stomach is doing somersaults, and the longer he stares at you with those eyes of his the more you feel like you're burning from the inside out and—
He's not moving. All he does is look at you, really look at you, as if it's the first time he's really looked, as if he's seeing something that wasn't there before.
"Okay, so—"
You try to push past him towards the door, but Steve grabs your arm, making you stop dead in your tracks. He lets go as soon as you look up at him, lifting his hand in front of him in an apologetic gesture.
"Sorry. I'm sorry," he says. He swallows hard and rubs his palm on the front of his jeans, a nervous little habit you think he's always had. He runs his hand through his hair, mussing up the carefully gelled strands, and it's probably the first time you've ever seen him look so flustered.
He laughs nervously and gestures at the ground with his hands as he speaks. "Look, this is just—this is just crazy, okay, but I think I, uh, maybe sort of realized something."
You blink at him, not quite certain you're hearing him correctly.
"Realized what?" you ask, the words barely more than a whisper.
Steve clears his throat and nods at you, seemingly pleased that you've finally spoken. "Yeah, well, this is stupid, but you know how you're always telling me to listen to my gut?"
"You're not making a whole lot of sense right now, Steve."
"Just bear with me for a sec, okay? This is like, totally new to me." He holds his palms up, and you notice his hands are shaking a little. "I just need a minute, alright?"
He breathes in deep and exhales slowly, then shoots you an apologetic look.
"Sorry, this is just...really weird," he confesses. "Weirdly real."
"You're freaking me out," you tell him, but Steve only smiles at you.
"Maybe I should just show you. Because, I mean, what if I'm wrong? That'd be terrible, obviously."
"Steve."
"Yeah, I know, but hear me out, okay?" he says quickly, and takes another step closer. You stand your ground this time, if only because you don't trust yourself to actually move without your legs giving out. "So, look. Here's the thing. You're, like—you're one of the most important people in my life. You've been there for me when nobody else was, and I...you mean a lot to me."
"Steve—"
"Shut up, you're ruining the moment."
He takes another step forward until he's crowding you against the wall, hand coming to rest next to your head on the brick. He's close, so close that you can smell the scent of his cologne and shampoo and laundry detergent, and if you were to lean in even the slightest bit, your faces would bump.
Steve is a little out of breath, his lips parted ever so slightly. And he's still looking at you with that strange, searching expression of his.
"Is this okay?" he whispers.
"I don't—what?"
Your voice catches in your throat. There's no room for doubt in his eyes now, not even the tiniest, slightest sliver of uncertainty left.
"This," Steve murmurs.
He tilts his head to the side a little and leans in until you're sure your noses are touching, and you feel your eyes slip closed in anticipation.
"Is this okay?" he repeats in a whisper. "Please tell me I'm not crazy."
"I think I am."
His lips brush yours. It feels like an accident, doesn't last long enough to be anything but a dream. You can still taste the faint, sweet trace of sugar and mint on your tongue when he pulls away, though.
"Just to be clear," Steve whispers, his fingers brushing lightly over the skin of your neck, tracing invisible lines that make you shiver, "am I the guy from earlier? The one you like?"
You don't have it in you to deny it anymore.
"Yes. It's you."
A wide grin breaks out across his face, and suddenly he's everywhere; he cups your face in his hands, pressing eager, fervent kisses along the line of your jaw, trailing hot and open-mouthed down the side of your neck.
You giggle helplessly, grabbing Steve by his collar to pull him away from you and up to your eye level. He's breathing just as heavily as you are, his hair messy and his eyes bright.
"How do you do this to me, huh?" he pants, kissing your forehead, the tip of your nose, the corner of your mouth. "You just—you just completely knock me out."
A pleasant little thrill rushes up your spine at that.
"Oh yeah?"
"Completely."
You kiss him this time.
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gojoux · 8 months
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『 𝐖𝐎𝐍’𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐒𝐀𝐘 𝐈𝐓 𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐊? 』
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· Pairing: Gojo Satoru x Reader
· Summary: Five times he confesses his feelings and one time you say it back.
· CW: 10.7k (I can explain...) // Fluff. Angst. Classic 5+1 trope that I absolutely adore. Reader have trust issues. Just Gojo being whipped for you. Geto being his wingman. Slight jealousy. Heartbroken Gojo. Argument (he did/said something bad but it's not described so it's up to your imagination).
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“I like you.”
Gojo confessed proudly with a wide grin adorning his face as he looked down at you. His hands are inside his pocket as he stands in front of your desk.
You look up at him in confusion, “What?”
He looked down at you and tilted his head slightly. “I said, I like you.” His words were direct and his gaze was firm. His hair shifted in the breeze from the opened window.
“Oh...” You can't even find a word to describe your feelings to him, and you're pretty sure it's the first time he confessed his feelings to someone, let alone romantically, and to you. “I, uh, thank you.” You smile awkwardly at him.
His gaze was intense despite his wide smile, like he had a laser focusing on you. “Thank me for accepting my feelings. Let me take you out sometime.” His words were casual as if it wasn't a big deal to confess to you.
He takes a hand out of his pocket to push back his hair. “Do you have someone you like, though?” 
You think for a bit before answering, “I don't think so...” You answer, quite unsurely. “At least, not at the moment.” You give him a small smile at the end.
He hummed in response. “Hmm...” His eyes shifted as he pondered your words. “Does that mean I have the opportunity to win your affection?” He asked as his smile widened. His tone and expression seemed both confident and playful at this moment.
“Well...” Before you could reply to his words, you heard a small snicker on the side. It's Geto watching his best friend confess to you.
Then, you realized, “Are you playing truth or dare?” You ask with a raised brow, your eyes shifting from Gojo to Geto and then back to Gojo again.
His cheeks turn slightly red from your question. He glances at Geto and shrugs. “Maybe it's truth and dare,” he answers sheepishly.
“Would your answer change if it was just truth?” He follows up with a smile. Geto's smirk grows wider as he watches you two. He seemed oddly entertained by Gojo's flirtatiousness.
You rest your back against the chair. “Since you're expressing your feeling because of a game, especially because of a dare, I'd say no.” You look up to him with a somewhat apologetic smile.
Gojo's smile faded from his face as it became clear his attempt to confess had failed. He glanced between you and Geto, who was still smiling at him on the side.
“Suguru...” Gojo hissed quietly. “What?” Geto whispered back with a slight chuckle. Gojo sighed with frustration. “Forget it,” he muttered.
He glanced back at you as he scratched the back of his head. “Sorry if it felt like I was playing with your feelings.”
“No problem.” You shrug casually to dismiss the matter. He walks back to sit in front of Geto, probably continuing to play truth or dare.
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The second time he told you he liked you was a week later. You feel him sitting down next to you on the stairs and handing you a drink from the vending machine.
“Thank you.” You answer as you accept the canned drink from his hand. “You're welcome,” he replied. He looked a little tired after his training.
He was silent for a few moments after handing you the drink. His eyes shifted as he looked at you, and then out at the view.  
“Did you know that the sunset has both yellow and orange lights?” He asked you suddenly. His tone was casual but it seemed like he had wanted to tell you something.
The vending machine was on a small landing of stairs, and they faced the view of the sunset. 
“Very beautiful, isn't it?” Your eyes are glued to the view. Gojo followed your gaze. His eyes scanned the scene in front of you, at the horizon of the view and the way the light filtered into the sky.
“Yeah.” His words were slightly distracted. His eyes were not focused on the beautiful sunset, but on the person next to him. “It is. I think sunsets are always beautiful.” 
For some reason, he felt almost compelled to hold your hand. He thought it could be considered a bit too intimate when you're not even together in the first place, but he still wondered if he should do it.
“I enjoy a nice view." He adds, trying to distract himself from these feelings. “Me, too.” You nod in agreement.
His hands clenched into fists. “Mmm.” For whatever reason, he couldn't bring himself to hold your hand and make the first move. 
Gojo's eyes followed the movement of the birds and clouds. He seemed content to let you enjoy the moment in peace, but at the same time, he was eager to start talking again.
“I like you,“ he said after a few moments. “Do you understand what I mean by that?” His tone was slightly more serious now.
“Is this another dare?” You ask back with a chuckle as you finally turn your head to look at him beside you.
His eyes met yours, and he didn't crack a smile as your response. “No, this time it's the truth,” he said, sounding slightly embarrassed, and his cheeks turned slightly red. “I'm just trying to tell you how I feel...”
Gojo was not used to confession. He glanced back at the sunset, trying to escape from the situation.
“I like you, too.” You replied with a smile. “You're a great friend.” You take a sip of your canned drink before looking back at the sunset again.
The words ‘friend’ crushed his soul for a few seconds. He thought he was doing better than the previous time. Gojo swallowed the lump in his throat.
His gaze shifted between you and the ground. “...Right,” he finally said.
A tense silence hung between you as you both let the sunset wash over your faces. Gojo thought hard about his words. His eyes gave nothing away but his face betrayed some uncertainty.
“I was hoping we would become more than just friends, though.” He speaks up after a minute of silence.
“Best friends?” You offer. “It will be nice to be your best friend, and I could be your other one besides Geto.” You chuckle, trying to brush off this tingly feeling inside you.
“Best friends...” He repeated the words as if he didn't want to admit that this wasn't what he hoped for. He shifted in his seat, uncomfortable with these feelings of his not being reciprocated.
“Hey, can I tell you something?” He asked after a few moments of silence. He wanted to share how he felt, even if it wasn't going to go anywhere.
“Sure.” You look at him, waiting for him to speak.
He took a breath and let the words flow freely. “You really are someone I care about, and not just as a friend.” He paused, trying to think of the right words. “I just wanted you to know that... that you mean a lot to me.” A small sincere smile came to his face.
Gojo wasn't used to sharing his feelings quite so openly. He looked down at his hands, which were still clenched into fists.
You stay quiet and then smile at his words. “Aww, thank you.” You can't help but appreciate his efforts to express his feelings since he's not one to do so.
A small grin crossed Gojo's face. He sighed, the tension he felt dissipating a bit. “No problem. And I'm not just saying that either,” he added. “It's the truth. You're a really great person.“
His gaze shifted forward again, watching the clouds move. “Thanks for listening, (Y/N).” He seemed a bit more relieved with that exchange. “It was nice to get that off my chest.”
You smile at his words, glad that he's comfortable enough around you to tell his feelings. Not long after, you get up from your seat and he looks up at you standing up. “I'll be heading back to the dorm.”
“Oh? You're leaving already?” He asks. “Don't you want to enjoy the rest of the sunset?” He pointed out.
The sun was starting to go down, the sky filling with a beautiful orange hue. “If you leave now, you'll miss the best part.”
“I'm getting sleepy, my eyes are heavy.” His eyebrows raised slightly as you were ready to leave. He pushed himself back up, ready to follow you, but he hesitated.
Should he hold your hand like he wanted to? He had confessed to you, but this wasn't a romantic moment anymore. What if he made you uncomfortable? Gojo thought for a few moments, before making his decision.
He reached forward and took your hand, gripping it softly. “I'll head back with you,” he said to you with a small smile on his face.
You were stunned by the feeling of his hand holding yours. He's so warm, and the tingly feeling inside you spreads even more. 
“I can go on my own, you know.” You make no effort to pull your hand away from him. His expression shifted to bashful at your words. “I know. But...” 
He took a deep breath. “I wanted to go with you,” he told you. He gripped your hand a bit tighter as he looked down at it. “Is that okay with you? Or should I let go?”
“No.” You shake your head, not realizing you're squeezing his hand. “It's okay.”
Gojo's chest felt lighter when you said it was okay for him to keep holding your hand. He squeezed your hand back in response.
You both started to walk towards the dorm, his fingers intertwined with yours. It was such a simple action, but it felt so meaningful. He takes a moment to appreciate this gesture, his head turned to see the sunset once more before looking at you again.
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In more than three weeks of knowing each other better, Gojo has grown more attached to you. And you can't say that you don't feel the same.
You were now indeed best friends. His feelings for you keep growing, and your feelings also bloom for him. But you tried your hardest to not let that show.
He seemed to have become more confident when it came to expressing his affection for you. But he still didn't seem to have much confidence when it came to flirting or romance, though.
His feelings for you grew with every smile and laugh shared between you both, and he was getting impatient. Every day, he wanted to ask you out, but he wanted to wait for the right moment. He wanted your first date to be perfect.
“Hey, can I ask you something?” He asked you, his eyes lingering on his phone.
“Yeah?” You respond. “Will you go to the cinema with me?” He asks to the point. He put his phone inside his pocket and stood up from his seat.
“Come on.” Without waiting for your answer, he took your hand and led you out of the school building. “There's a movie coming out that I really want to see.” His eyes were sparkling with excitement.
“Whoa, whoa, now?” You ask as you let him drag you away.
“Yeah, why not?” He looks at you confused. He seemed to just expect you to go with him, not even questioning his abrupt proposition. He didn't seem to consider the possible answer could be ‘no’.
Geto who was minding his own business watched the two of you leave with a small smirk. “Oh, you two are finally going out?” He teased. “Yeah! See you later, Suguru!” Gojo's voice fades away after he exits the classroom.
“Why not ask Geto?” You ask him a bit breathless from the long walk and wait for an assistant manager to drive you to your destination. 
“You think I want him to watch us go on a date?” He looked at you with a chuckle. “I just... wanted it to be the two of us,” he explained quietly.
“This is a date?” You ask confused. “We're not dating, though?”
He looks slightly flustered by your words. “Well, that's what I'm hoping to change.” He mumbles to himself. “To be honest, I just wanted to spend time with you.” His tone is still quiet but a little sheepish. 
“Mmm...” You only nod at him.
The assistant manager arrives to drive you to the cinema. He's surprisingly quiet the entire ride, choosing to look outside of the window instead, and he seemed content that way. But he's seated close to you, and his hand itched to hold yours the entire time.
Once you both arrive, he opens the car door for you and gives a nod to thank the assistant manager for taking the two of you there.
The car drives off, and Gojo grabs your hand once more, not wanting to let go as you both enter the mall. You walk side by side, holding hands, and still in your uniform.
“You haven't told me what you want to watch yet?” You ask as you let him lead you toward the cinema.
He grins at you. “I want to watch the newest romantic comedy. You know, the one with the super attractive actors?” He leans in a little closer as he speaks. His hold on your hand becomes slightly tighter. 
“Oh? I didn't expect you to be excited over romantic movies.” You grin playfully at him. Your heart is beating fast from the way he holds your hand.
He chuckles in response. “Oh, I enjoy them. I find them very amusing.” He looks at you with a teasing smile. “Maybe I just like looking at pretty girls in love.”
He glances around the mall but doesn't let go of your hand as the two of you continue walking. His eyes flicker back to you every now and then.
“Pretty girls in love?” You ask again with another chuckle as you shake your head. He nods at your question. “I certainly do,” he answers. “But I feel like you already know that.”
He then looks at you with a slight grin. You feel a subtle tug on the back of your arm as he pulls you closer. “I'd say you're the most beautiful one I know,” he confesses in a soft tone. “So I like looking at you.”
You can feel your heart skip a beat and your face heats up at his words. “What a flirt.” You mumble under your breath.
Gojo chuckles again at your response. "Yeah, yeah. I think I did better than last time." He gives you a wink as you both reach the cinema.
He lets go of your hand for a moment to buy tickets for the two of you, before taking your hand once more as he guides you into the studio where you’re going to be watching the movie.
“When is the movie starting?” You look at him. “The movie?” He seems to be zoning out as he walks with you. “What else?” You ask back. “Oh, I think there's still about 30 minutes before it starts.” He then snaps back to attention. “I mean,” he adds with a chuckle. “Does that mean we have time to grab a snack?”
He pauses as he sees a concession stand in front of you. “There's even cute girls working here.” The last part of the sentence was muttered under his breath.
“Cute girls?” You repeat to yourself quietly, your gaze following him, before shaking your head, letting go of his hand, and walking towards the counter to order some snacks.
Gojo doesn't seem to take too kindly to the fact that you've let go of his hand. He frowns slightly. “Wait, what are you doing?” He glances back down at you with slightly parted lips and wide, questioning eyes. His eyebrows raise ever so slightly. “I was hoping we could hold hands...” he utters quietly, glancing down at your hand.
“You want to hold my hand while you flirt with the cute worker? No thanks.” You say as you wait in line. You try to ignore the jealous feeling in your heart and play it cool.
His expression is blank when he thinks about what you've just said. “Why would you assume I'm going to flirt with the girl at the stand?” he asks you. He glances at the girls working at the concession stand, and back at you. “They just look cute, that's all.” He shrugs his shoulders.
“We were holding hands a while ago,” He reminds you, a slightly hurt look in his eyes, but he quickly shakes it off.
Then his eyebrows raise slightly and he looks at you with a teasing expression. “Oh, are you jealous?” The two girls working behind the counter exchange a look and share a slight chuckle, clearly having overheard your conversation.
“Why should I be jealous? You're not my boyfriend.” You stuck your tongue out playfully at him.
Gojo's smile fades for a while at your words. He lets out a sigh of irritation, “I wish I was,” he utters quietly. He quickly covers it up again with his usual attitude. “But I could be,” he replies in a teasing tone. In response to your gesture, he makes a face and sticks his tongue out at you.
“Ha, you wished.” You brush him off.
Gojo keeps a smirk on his face, but he's secretly hurt by your words. “Well, if my wish was true, I would make you my girlfriend today,” he utters quietly.
“What are you going to get?” He averts the topic, his voice is slightly quieter than usual and not as playful.
“Package C.” You point out the big screen on the top. He looks at where you’re pointing and nods. The concession stand is busy, and more customers have joined the line behind you.
“I'll just order for the both of us.” He seems annoyed but still keeps a faint smile on his face. You look at him in confusion, stunned by his change of attitude.
Without you realizing it, Gojo has taken a soft spot for you, and he wears his emotions on his sleeves from how comfortable he is around you.
You see that his eyes narrow and you can tell he feels hurt from your words earlier. But that’s your assumption, you don’t want to think too much about it. He steps to the counter himself, and asks the girl working behind it, “Two Package C's, please.”
You both moved to the side after he was done ordering, waiting for your name to be called to pick up your orders.
He leans against the wall with his arms crossed. The two of you quietly wait for your orders as the movie's start time draws closer. He takes a few more glares at you, before sighing. “I think I might have been too harsh,” he mumbles to himself.
His eyes are focused on the counter and you can tell he's still thinking hard about your words. He’s just jealous and hurt, that’s all.
He glances at you in silence until his name is called to pick up the order. “Let's go sit somewhere before the movie starts.” He takes them from the girl behind the counter, he's still upset by how distant he sounds.
“What's wrong?” You finally break the silence once you both find a nearby seat to wait. You can see Gojo's jaw tighten slightly as soon as you speak. He's still struggling with his thoughts.
After a few more seconds, he sighs and gives you a tight grin. “Nothing's wrong,” he answers with a shake of his head. He doesn't seem like his usual, carefree self, but he tries to hide it by maintaining the smile. He’s still bothered by what you said.
“Well, I think something is wrong.” You shift your body slightly to the side to face him. He stares at you in silence for a while. He looks conflicted for a moment as if trying to decide whether he should tell you the truth or keep it to himself.
“I... am a bit upset,” he finally admits after a long pause. He still doesn't give you an explanation, but you can tell that he wants to tell you something important.
“Because...?” You urge him to continue.
“Because of what you said... about not being your boyfriend.” He admits quietly with a hint of sadness in his voice. He takes a deep breath and crosses his arms across his chest after putting the food package to the side. He looks at you with a conflicted gaze, like he wants to say something else.
“But it’s true, right? You’re not.” His eyes narrow at your words. You can see the sadness and disappointment on his face.
“Because I want to be your boyfriend.” Gojo's words seem to surprise you as they surprise him himself. He seems a little embarrassed as he looks back at you, his head tilted in your direction.
“Listen,” he paused for a bit. “I like you, alright?” His eyes flick to you for a split second before looking down at the floor again. “I really do.” His tone is softer, but his words seem firm and honest. He takes a breath, his expression softening slightly.
“I want to be more than just friends with you,” he answers softly. The look on his face seems to beg for confirmation. He wants to know if you feel the same way.
Your breath hitched at his confession. You know that he likes you, but you’re still unsure if he’s actually genuine and able to commit to you or not.
You do trust him as your friend and ally, but you’re still unsure if you could trust your heart to him. And you feel awful for always leaving him hanging from your ambiguous response.
Deep inside, you want to be with him. You just want to be selfish for a while longer, and you promise yourself to make it up to him after you made up your mind.
Fortunately for you in this situation, the studio door is now open, a sign for everyone to start entering. 
“Let's just enjoy the movie for now, okay?” You stand up from your seat.
He frowns, trying not to show his disappointment at you dodging the question. “Of course,” he answers quietly, following your lead and standing up to enter the cinema.
The two of you sit down and start watching the movie, and the mood seems to soften a bit. He's back to his relaxed and playful self as he enjoys the movie.
You notice that his hand is slowly creeping closer to yours. He's still staring intently at the movie but makes no attempt to move his hand away. The tension from the conversation seems to have lifted, making the atmosphere more lighthearted again.
You hear a soft sigh and see him glance at you for a quick moment. He gives you a small smile, before focusing his attention back on the movie.
A few minutes later, his hand rests on top of yours. He focuses on the movie and smiles at some of the scenes. The two of you don't say anything for a while, but Gojo continues to smile as you both enjoy the movie.
“What are you doing?” You try to sound unbothered as you can while sipping your drink.
“What does it look like I'm doing?” He glances at you then turns away quickly, acting as if he's not doing anything, but he keeps his hand on top of yours.
His gaze is focused on the screen, but he's being playfully cheeky with his response. “If you want, I can give you a head pat, too. I hear it's all the rage.” His tone is slightly teasing in response.
“Does my touch bother you?” He adds quietly.
You shake your head before saying, “No,” secretly enjoying the closeness.
He smiles and gives you a light squeeze with his hand. His eyes are still focused on the movie, but from time to time he glances down at your hands. From the way he smiles, you can tell he's enjoying this moment just as much as you.
The joy is clear on Gojo's face as he watches the movie. He's giggling and laughing at all the right places and even nudges you at some points to share his laughter while keeping his hand on top of yours for most of the movie.
He leans in a little closer as the credits start to roll. “Hey.” He leans in a little closer as if he's about to whisper something into your ear.
“Yes?” You tried to guess what he could have possibly said with your heart beating faster.
His eyes are focused on your face, and he doesn't seem to be distracted by the credits or people leaving the cinema around you.
“I really enjoyed today,” he says rather quietly. His smile seems genuine and he gives you a small nod. “I like being with you,” he continues. “Can we do it again sometime?”
You let a smile escape your lips, “Of course.” You nod. “Thank you for taking me here today.”
“No problem,” he answers with a grin. He pulls his hand away slightly and pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “This was fun.”
As the credits continue to roll, the lights dim again. You can hear people start to talk and slowly leave the cinema. “Do you wanna stay here a little longer?”
You lean back in your seat, looking at the credit scene with the music in the background. “Maybe a bit more.”
He smiles and leans against the back of his seat as well. He rests his head on your shoulder ever so slightly as you both look at the credits. 
You try to keep your body relaxed when you feel his cheek on your shoulder. But the atmosphere is surprisingly comfortable, you like it.
“Do you have plans afterward?” He asks. “I was thinking that maybe we could go out for some ramen.” A faint blush spreads across his face. He looks at you expectantly, the credits still rolling in the background.
“Do you know a place for any ramen shops you recommend?” 
“Actually, I know a ramen shop pretty close to Jujutsu High," he answers. “It's a small, local family business. It's a personal favorite of mine.”
He smiles brightly and grabs your hand again. “Come on, I'll take you there.” His tone is cheerful as he sits straight again.
“You don't mind if I hold your hand, do you?”
“Why would you want to hold my hand, though?” 
His grin falters slightly and he gives you a sidelong glance. “Because I like holding your hand,” he answers simply. He squeezes your hand slightly, his thumb gently brushing against your palm.
You already know that he's the type to go into people's personal spaces— those he considers as friends though— and he's very touchy as well. 
Circling an arm behind Shoko's chair and sometimes he ends up putting his hand on her shoulder, resting his weight on Geto while they talk, and he seems to enjoy touching your hand.
And you can't lie to yourself and say you don't like it.
Your day continues with him taking you to his recommended ramen shop and treating your meals until you're satisfied, because that's what he's intended to do.
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The fourth time Gojo confessed his feelings was not long after your cinema hangout, or what he would call it a date instead.
His confession is rather different this time.
There are constant texts from Gojo on your phone, but his messages are never dull. They're filled with poems, flirty memes, and even his own original drawings and photos.
He sends you love poems, quotes with romantic context, and even pictures of landscapes that he found interesting.
He even sends you a few poems by Shikibu Izumi and Ono no Komachi, a few of the most famous poets of the Heian period.
You're not even surprised to receive these messages anymore. In fact, it's expected and makes you smile each time. Gojo is just being Gojo. And Gojo likes you, a lot.
He would send you texts out of nowhere regarding time and places like,
“I just want to hold your hand,” followed by a long message of poetry.
“Your beauty makes me weak.”
“You're everything I've ever wanted.”
“I've been thinking about you all day.”
“Every day, just seeing your face is enough to make me feel so happy.”
“I just want to be yours, forever and always.”
Or sometimes like, 
“Did you know the moon and sun both revolve around each other? Just like how we do, because we were meant to be together.”
And even more random text like,
“The day is beautiful, just like you.”
“Do you know what my favorite part of the day is? It’s seeing your beautiful face in the morning, of course.”
“Do you know what my favorite thing to do together is? It’s playing Momotaro Dentetsu together, just you and me.”
“Do you know the best thing about you? You always have such a contagious smile, my lovely one.”
Every text he sends you always makes your heart soar with happiness. It makes you smile wide in public and squeal to yourself in your room.
He keeps blowing on the wind that makes your heart fly so high. You just hope that he won't stop blowing the wind when your heart reaches up high so you won't crash and fall to get it shattered to pieces. 
There is no way you could ignore his sweet text like that, can you?
You would always reply back with some emojis or compliments, sometimes you would share a few videos and pictures. That's enough to keep him going, and he keeps getting bolder with his words.
When you're busy with your school assignment and could only reply with one text such as,
“You're so sweet. Thank you.”
He would reply with more text,
“What? I'm just being honest, my love. I'm not even close to being sweet enough for you.”
“What are you doing right now? I hope you're having a good day, you deserve it.”
He always grins when he waits for your reply, or at least until you read his text. His fingers always tingle when he texts you. He still can't believe that you haven't turned him down.
It's always making your heart race when he calls you pet names, and you're not even dating. He's just so comfortable using them on you.
On one fine day, you were eating lunch with Shoko while you told her about Gojo. She sits across from you, listening to you talk. She takes bites of her food as she listens to your stories.
You tell him about Gojo's constant flirting and how he's been sending you poems and love quotes. You mention that he also asked you out to get some food together.
“He really likes you, you know that right?” Shoko asks you matter-of-factly. From her expression, it doesn't seem as if she's surprised by the news. “It's starting to sound like you have a crush on Gojo,” she teases lightly.
You let out a loud sigh. “Because I do...” You mumble.
“So you still haven't officially started dating?” She looks over at you with a skeptical expression. “Why's that?”
“He's so blatantly flirting with you and you're so obviously into him. What's keeping you two from becoming a couple?” She tilts her head in curiosity.
“He's very popular among the girls, why would he pursue me out of all people?” You let out another sigh. “I'm just... afraid of getting my feelings hurt.” You admit before taking another bite of your food.
Shoko leans back in her chair. “He's so fond of you, it's obvious. The way he keeps texting you, the things he says. It's almost like he's head over heels.”
“What I'm trying to say is...” She pauses, looking for the right words to say. “I see how he looks at you. If he didn't have a genuine thing for you, he would have given up a long time ago.”
You consider her words carefully in silence.
Then, out of nowhere, Geto appears and pats you on the back. “Hey, (Y/N), Shoko,” he looks at you and Shoko and then back at you.
“Sorry to interrupt, but do you mind coming with me for a while?” He asks you. You shrug and set your lunch aside. “Yeah, sure. What is it?”
“Just come with me.” He walks away and you follow not far behind with Shoko also deciding to tag along. He leads you toward the training field.
There is Gojo in the middle of the field, with huge neatly arranged words of I LOVE YOU with red rose petals on the grass.
“Oh, my...” You look at the sight, speechless.
Even Shoko is stunned beside you.
“Hmm, I wonder who that could be for?” Geto chuckles and glances at you.
Gojo smiles brightly from the training field when he sees you, “(Y/N)~!!” he waves in your direction.
He holds one stamp of red rose and walks past the stairs to you. He looks confident and proud as if expecting a positive response. He holds out the rose in his hand to you which you gladly accept.
“I thought today would be a perfect day for a little surprise.” He looks genuinely happy to see you. He continues to smile as you take in the flower display. “So, what do you think?” His eyes focused intently on you, watching your every reaction.
“That is...” You try to find a word to describe it, “Beautiful.” Your eyes are locked on the field. The red rose petals look beautiful on the green field.
“I’m glad you like it.” His face breaks out into a broad smile. “Come, let me show you from up close.” He grabs your hand and leads you down the stairs toward the field where the roses are.
He doesn’t mind Geto and Shoko far behind, he’s just focused on you right now.
He walks over to the flower display and leans forward, picking up one of the roses. He turns to you and offers you the flower.
“Here, this one's for you.” His voice is gentle as he hands you the red rose. You can see the happiness in his eyes. “I didn’t get you roses for nothing.” He tilts his head to the side slightly as he smiles at you.
“How long does this take you to arrange?” You look at the small roses scattering on the grass.
He’s lucky that today isn’t windy, an impulsive reason why he just drags Geto to the field and tells his plan to set this up right away without any preparation except for his imagination on what he wants it to look like.
“That?” He gestures to the flower arrangement in front of you. “I just did it this morning, took about a few hours,” he answers casually. “It was worth it though,” he adds softly, his gaze drifting towards your hands.
Your fingers are still interlocked with his and he leans closer to you, still gripping your hand. “You know I like you, don't you?” His grip on your hand tightens slightly but still holds gently to you and caresses the back of your hand.
“Thank you for all this.” Your smile widens. He hums softly. He reaches up and strokes your head lightly. “You’re welcome.” He leans his head close to yours to kiss your cheek.
“Come.” He smiles at you brightly. He caresses the back of your neck gently as he steps back as if giving you space. “You should pick a rose. I think it would look good on you.”
“Okay.” You nod, feeling shy all of a sudden. His gaze is fixed on you, watching as you reach out to take a flower.
The rose you’ve chosen is a vibrant shade of red, one of the brighter roses among all the other blooms. It’s the perfect flower for you, with the color perfectly matching your hair and overall vibe.
“Here,” he carefully pins the rose behind your ear. The red petals fluttered in the sunlight, the rose contrasting beautifully with your hair. His gaze is still locked in on you as he adjusts the flower.
“Well, isn’t this a cute sight.” A faint smile appears on Shoko’s face as she watches from far away with Geto.
“I guess this settles it all.” The man beside her chuckles. “Satoru has been preparing this since the morning. He looks all happy about it.”
“Maybe next time, those two can go on a date.” He adds, with a hint of playfulness in his voice. “Once they officially start dating, that is.”
Gojo gently pushes the rose further up behind your ear with a smile. “I’ve said it many times now,” he chuckles, his voice sounding like music in your ears. He seems to be taking in every detail of your appearance.
“I wanted you to know that you’re all I think about during the day. And you’re all that I’m dreaming about at night.”
Gojo takes a step closer to you and lightly grabs your hand again. “So, what do you say?” His gaze is still locked on you.
“Let’s make this day a special one.” He looks at you expectantly, his face shows how excited and cheerful he is. He leans in close to you, his hand still tight in his grip on yours. The display of red roses in front of you seems to be a clear message.
You blink a few times and try to calm down your fast-racing heart before speaking, “I—” until it's interrupted by Yaga calling out to him, “Satoru!” making both of you look in the direction.
Yaga seems to appear in between Geto and Shoko who looks both surprised and apologetic since they knew you two are in the middle of something.
His smile drops instantly when Yaga calls out to him. He slowly pulls away from you and turns his attention toward the direction of the voice. “Damn it.” He curses under his breath with a look of annoyance crosses his face.
“I need you to come to my office.” He calls out again before turning to Geto beside him, “You, too, Suguru.” He adds before walking away.
“I gotta go.” He suddenly pulls you closer for a quick hug. “We’ll continue this later alright?” He pulls away from you and starts to follow after Yaga and Geto ahead of him.
Shoko walks down the stairs to approach you. “So, did you accept his confession?” She asks while looking at Gojo and Geto’s back.
You look down at the rose he gave you before looking up and turning to see the rose petals that he had arranged.
“No, I didn’t.”
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The fifth time he confessed was when you gave him the silent treatment after he did something that didn't please you.
“I know that I really upset you, but I'm really sorry.”
“Please, (Y/N),” he begs your forgiveness. “I just really don't want to lose you.”
Gojo’s texts come through every 10 minutes or so. He’s desperate for you to respond.
“I messed up, and I'm sorry. I promise it won't happen again.”
“Just... Can you, please?”
“Don't ignore me all day.”
“Please, just listen to me.”
His texts slowly get more frequent as time goes by. They start coming in every couple of minutes. You can see the urgency and anxiety his texts convey as he tries to get a hold of you.
You don’t want to block his contact, just because. But you keep ignoring him, too mad to even think of something to say to him, and right now, you don’t have any energy to deal with this.
It doesn’t stop there. He keeps following you just to explain himself to you, hoping that your view of him won't change because of what he has done.
“Look, I’m sorry, okay?” He sounds sincere when he approaches you. “I made a mistake.” He tries to take your hand but you pull it away.
“(Y/N), what do I have to do to make up for it? Do you want me to buy you something? I will.” His eyes look sad now, not the confident, cocky look you usually associate with him.
“It won't happen again, I swear.” He looks at you longingly. “Please, I'm begging you.”
“Can you stop following me?” You frown at him, not happy with his presence, something you'd never expect to feel around him.
“No.” He answers bluntly, sounding stubborn. He holds out his hand again. “I'm not leaving yet.” He steps in front of you. “I'm sorry...” He sounds hurt.
“I just want to be with you, (Y/N). Can we please just talk and forget about this whole thing?” His tone is insistent now. “I know I can make it up to you if you just give me the chance.” He continues to look at you with a pleading expression on his face.
“Just leave me alone, can you?” You step back away from him. “You’ve done enough. I don’t want to be around you right now.”
Your words seem to hit Gojo like a ton of bricks. He stays silent for a moment, his face looking like he’s in a slight panic. “But... (Y/N)..." He takes a step towards you, trying to take your hand. He sounds desperate when he speaks to you now.
“Do you really mean that?” He looks at you with a sad, but pleading look in his eyes. Gojo's hands go to his sides as he tries to look as small as he can. “If you give me one last chance, I'll be the best boyfriend ever. I promise.” His voice breaks a bit.
“Gojo.” Your voice is warning now, you don’t want to deal with this even further, knowing that you might say something you’ll regret later.
He goes quiet for a moment, looking down at the floor and adjusting his glasses. He seems to be holding himself back from saying anything. “Okay.” His voice is soft, almost like a whisper. “I'll just go then, and leave you alone, like you want.”
“I’m sorry...” You can see him taking off his glasses and wipe his eyes slightly as he leaves. “But you better not forget that I love you. I always will.” He turns his head slightly to look back at you.
He starts to walk away before he suddenly stops and turns back.
“Oh, right…” He suddenly reaches into his pocket and takes out a single rose. He offers it to you with a sad smile. “Here, this is for you.” His hand stays outstretched, holding the rose close to you. “I hope you’ll forgive me.”
“If you’ll take this, that is. Please?” Gojo’s voice sounds desperate and he gives you a soft, almost puppy-like look. His eyes are filled with longing as he gazes at you, the rose held out in his hand.
“I'm not accepting your apology and your confession.” You cross your arms and look away, unconsciously letting the words impulsively spill out from your upset mind.
The small smile quickly disappears from Gojo’s face as your reply reaches his ears. He stares at you as you speak in disbelief. “Huh?”
“Why not?” His hand slowly starts to lower by his side, the rose he holds slowly falling onto the ground. “After everything I’ve done for you?” His voice sounds confused as he starts to speak slowly. “You’re still not going to accept?”
“Loving you will just hurt me in the end.” You don’t even know what you’re saying.
You’re hurt from what he did, from what he said. And your mind is telling you to hurt him back.
You don’t want to, but you did it anyway.
“How could you say that?” He quickly steps forward. The rose still lies abandoned at your feet. “How could loving me ever hurt you?” He looks at you with a confused expression.
“(Y/N), I just— I don’t understand how that makes any sense.” His voice quickly turns from confusion to anger. “I’ve spent months trying to make you mine and now you’re telling me ‘it doesn’t matter’?”
You roll your eyes in annoyance, “It’s you who are the one so persistent. Don’t blame me if you don’t get what you want.”
Your comment catches Gojo off guard, making his jaw clenches. “You don’t mean that…” Another hurt expression creeps onto Gojo’s face.
“I just love you too much, okay? Is that so wrong?” He starts to step towards you while talking. “I don’t care how hard it is, I don’t care how much it hurts, I just— want to love you, (Y/N).”
Your lips tremble, trying to surpass your mixed emotion. “Don't expect me to return your love, then.” You walk past him, stepping on the small rose petal that he dropped on the floor earlier. Like you’re stepping on his feelings.
“Wait—” Gojo quickly tries to grab your hand, stopping you from moving away as quickly as you were trying to.
“I’m telling you, I’ll make this up to you. Just give me some time, please.” He looks at you desperately, still clutching onto your wrist. “I can change, (Y/N). You just have to give me the chance.”
“Give me a chance, will ya? Just let my love wash over you and let me sweep you off your feet.” His voice sounds almost like a plea now. “You’ll be so happy, I know you will.”
“You say you won’t let love hurt you, but that’s exactly what love is all about.” He says softly. “Love makes you want it even when it hurts.”
You wriggle your wrist in his hold, your eyes keep glaring at him. “Just stop trying. I don’t want it.”
“No, I can't.” The frustration clearly reaches his voice. “I need you to know how much I love you, (Y/N). Please just hear me out, alright?” His expression is starting to become pleading again
 “I can't stop now. I just— I know you're the right one. I will not give up on convincing you. Just— just don't walk away. I'll do whatever it takes, alright?”
You’re listening, to every single word he says. But with your emotions right now, you act like you didn’t.
“Gojo.” You say his name sternly again. “Let me go.”
He shakes his head stubbornly and pulls you into a tight hug. “You don't mean any of the cold things you're saying, do you?” His voice sounds desperate as he rests his chin on your shoulder.
“I can't give up now. I'm in too deep and you know I can't back down.”
You grasp the side of his uniform. “Please, stop.”
“You're just lying to yourself. I know you don't mean any of this.” He pulls back slightly and looks at you intensely, his tone now annoyed. “I just want to love you. I want to make you happy. Is that so hard to understand?”
He cups your face gently despite the tense situation and a frown on his face. You could see his emotions clearly without his glasses.
“Look into my eyes and tell me you don't care.” Gojo looks at you as if trying to prove a point.
You stay silent, not knowing what to say because he’s right, before saying the only thing that crosses your mind, “I don't want to deal with you right now.”
He doesn't speak for a moment, he looks conflicted, and he takes a small step back. “Alright.” He sighs quietly and looks at you for a few moments.
“I'll let go of you now.”
“But I'm not giving up yet.” He gives you a brief smile before turning away. “I promise I'll make it up to you.”
The weight of the air changes as Gojo’s presence fades into the background. He leaves, his hands in his pockets.
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A couple of days have passed and you and Gojo are still not on the best of terms. You continue to avoid talking to him and any interactions you have to have seem cold and awkward.
Gojo, on the other hand, is still determined to make you return his feelings.
He seems to have accepted that you’re avoiding him now. Despite this, you’ll occasionally catch him glancing at you from across the room as if longing for the moment when you’ll finally forgive him and give him a chance.
You two still have many of the same classes together, so you’re practically bound to be in the same room even if you avoid each other as much as possible.
It makes Geto and Shoko confused because— what just happened between you two?
You were lovey-dovey the other day, and distant now.
Ah, young, stupid love.
You find it hard to talk to him without getting annoyed or frustrated at him. And yet, you find yourself wondering where he is or what he’s doing. You find yourself paying more attention to him than you should.
Until one day, you can’t find him anywhere after lessons.
You walk around the school casually as if you’re not looking for him.
The weather is windy, and it looks like it's about to rain. The wind blows softly on your hair, and the breeze has an oddly refreshing feeling that is not too far from the start of a rainstorm.
You finally found him on the stairs that lead to the training field. The place where he confessed with many red rose petals on the grass, hours of effort to surprise you and make you happy, all put to waste.
You remember smiling the whole time you picked up the petals once he left, replaying the words over and over again in your head.
You kept them inside a small bag where you cherished thousands of rose petals of his love declaration for you.
His head is ducked down against his arms on his knees as if taking a break. His glasses have fallen on the ground. One of his hands holds a single rose, the bright shade of red almost looking artificial in its vibrancy.
“Gojo?” You call out to him, soft and quiet, for the first time after days of not talking to him.
Gojo’s head jerks towards you and his eyes quickly open as he sees you walking towards him. He doesn’t immediately speak, instead focusing on observing your every move with a thoughtful expression on his face.
His hand shifts, the rose he holds changing position in his grip.
“(Y/N)?” He looks at you, his eyes wider than usual. He looks down at the rose in his hand and smiles briefly. The wind gently blows his hair as he glances at you.
“It's been a while.” He says awkwardly. “How have you been?”
You sit down next to him, looking at the field as you enjoy the breeze. “Good… maybe.” You answer shortly, not sure if you can say you’re actually okay. “You?”
“I've been better.” His voice is slightly quieter than normal as he places the rose next to him. “I feel bad for the stuff that happened between us a few days ago.” He looks at you before speaking up again. “I'm still sorry.”
A couple of seconds pass as neither of you speak. Both of you seem hesitant to start a conversation after what happened last time.
“I know we haven’t spoken in a few days, but I just want to say...“ He stops talking briefly before continuing to speak again. “... I understand if you don't want to speak to me and I'm sure you're still mad, but—“
He hands you the flower. “The rose is for you. I picked it up for you earlier.”
You accept the rose. “Thank you.” You say quietly. “Why were you picking up roses?”
“No reason, really.” He answers casually while looking out towards the field. “I just saw it and I thought of you. I was thinking of you.” 
“That’s sweet.” You admire the rose in your hand. He must have chosen the best one from the garden, it might be the most beautiful one he gave you.
The rose on your hand is like a silent confession and apology. It reminds you of the single rose petal that he dropped on the floor and you step on back then.
You noticed how he was more reserved around you ever since that talk in the empty hallway, and you just need to know, “Are you okay?”
He sighs and looks away, avoiding your gaze. He doesn't say anything for a couple of seconds, giving you an answer that sounds less than truthful. “Yeah, I'm fine.” He then looks at you again. “Don't worry so much about me.”
A brief moment of silence passes. Gojo glances down at the rose next to him for a few seconds before looking back at you. “What are you doing out here?”
This time, you’re glad that you let the word slip out, “I was looking for you.”
He looks at you with eyes filled with curiosity. “Why were you looking for me?” His voice sounds softer now. “Did you need something?” A faint smile appears on his face as he continues to look at you.
“Is this a chance at reconciliation?” He gives a half-hearted chuckle as he asks, deep down hoping you’ll accept him, again.
“Or were you missing me that much already?” The teasing tone is back but it holds some genuine curiosity and a hint of hope. “Are you finally trying to admit that you missed having me around?” He glances at you from the corner of his eye.
His hand picks up a single fallen rose petal next to his feet. He quickly grabs it and places it on your hand that is still holding the rose with a small smile on his face.
Your lips tremble at his gesture as you try to hold back the tears and you look away to calm yourself down with a few small deep breaths before looking down at the rose.
“You were right.”
“About what?” He asks in response as he looks at you. “What's right?”
“About that day, when we argue.” You admit. “You were right... I didn't mean what I said. I was just too upset with you that time.”
“Well, I did take things too far.” His expression softens as you speak. “I made you angry that day.”
You look down at the rose once more before looking at him again to ask the same question, “Are you really okay?”
The question is clearly getting to him and his small smile soon fades away. He looks away from you, giving his answer carefully. “Not really.” He finally admits. His voice is softer, almost sad.
“I know I screwed things up between us.” A couple of more seconds pass. “I know I messed it up bad this time.”
“But, can I tell you something?” He looks at you expectantly.
“Yes. Of course.” You keep your eyes on him, listening for what he has to say.
“I know I've made a lot of mistakes, but I still want to keep trying. You know how I feel about you… I haven't changed my mind either.” He looks at you for a few moments.
“I also know I’ve kind of, well… been bothering you this whole time.” He chuckles awkwardly. “I just can’t seem to get you off my mind.”
“Can’t escape those eyes either…” His eyes are slowly lured towards your own. His expression is almost pensive. “I just want to be with you, (Y/N).”
He looks in front of the fields, recalling that morning when he lays every single rose petal on the grass, only hoping that it could impress you.
He also recalls his first confession to you because of a dare from Geto. He already liked you before then, the dare was just the first small step that his best friends have set up for him.
He sighs again, “Maybe you're right. My love is doomed to fail... but I can't stop loving you, even though you don't feel the same.” He pauses for a few seconds before adding, “I keep trying so hard because it’s you.”
Small droplets fall from the gloomy sky and the wind blows softly, making the tiny droplets of rain feel like a slight sprinkle of coolness across your skin. The wind picks up, the few raindrops turning into a drizzle.
Gojo doesn’t mind the rain. He’s pouring out his heart like the cloud is pouring out rain right now, it increases in volume.
You stand up and kneel down in front of him, still holding the rose with one hand and another cupping his cheek, noticing how sad his eyes look.
You finally say the words he’s been desperate to hear, and they roll out your tongue just right,
“I love you, too.”
Gojo stares at you in disbelief, his eyes slowly widening as he processes your words. He remains motionless for a few seconds, unsure of how to respond. His eyes look shocked for a moment as if he truly did not expect these words from you.
“Huh?” He seems unable to register your words or understand fully what you mean. The rain drops down on his face, but he's too distracted to care.
“What did you just say?” He takes in a breath and turns your head to him. “Did you just— I'm sorry, can you repeat that again? Please…” He seems almost too stunned to respond properly.
You smile as you look at him deep in his wide eyes before saying it again with much more assuringly, “I love you.”
The rain continues to fall and Gojo lets the words sink in. “You love me too?” He repeats, as if trying to make sense of the words.
“You mean it?” He stares at you with hopeful eyes, looking between you and the rose in your hand as if trying to convince himself you really did just say the words he thought he heard.
“Please tell me I didn't misunderstand you earlier.” He sounds almost too shocked, to the point where he almost doubts your words.
You shake your head with a smile remaining on your face. “No, you didn’t.” Your thumb slowly caresses the wet skin of his cheek.
“You really aren't kidding?” He smiles for a moment before his face turns into one of pure surprise again. “You're— you're not just saying that to mess with me, right?” He looks at you as if expecting a joke to follow your response.
“Say it again. Say the words once more.”
You can’t help but chuckle at his reaction, but you don’t mind saying it over and over again just for him.
“Satoru.” You finally called him by his given name. “I love you. I always do.”
His eyes still wide with surprise he blinks rapidly before a wave of realization passes over his face as he stares at you earnestly.
“You mean it, right?” He holds onto your hand. His expression goes from surprised to happy in just a split second. He looks at you with genuine joy as his eyes light up.
“Say it again, (Y/N). Say it again.” This time, his voice sounds less desperate and more like a request. “It would make me so happy to hear it one more time.”
“How many times do you want me to say this?” You chuckle in amusement, but you say it again anyway, “I’m absolutely in love with you.” You say it once more with a bit of exaggeration but you mean it regardless.
His hand starts to reach out to your face. “Now come here. I'm dying to finally kiss you.” His voice is soft, filled with all the anticipation from those past few months.
He pulls you closer, settling you between his thighs, almost on his lap as he pulls you into a strong embrace. He grips your body tightly to him as the rain begins to pour harder.
“I've waited long enough to kiss you,” Gojo says as he brings his face close to yours. You feel your heart beating faster now as his warm breath tickles your skin. Gojo's eyes seem as intense now as the first time he confessed to you.
“Can you say you want it too?” His eyes search yours in anticipation. “Say you want my kiss.”
“Can I have your kiss?” You do what he said with an extra, “Please?”
“That's what I needed to hear.” He smiles and leans down slowly, “Let's make this a good one.” He pressed his soft lips on yours as soon as he finished his sentence. The touch is gentle but passionate, the feeling of his body keeping you warm against the rain falling down on both of you.
He kisses you deeply, with all the pent-up emotion from those past few months, and he leans back after a little while and stares at you, grinning from ear to ear as rain droplets run down your face.
He didn’t say a word before he leaned to kiss you again. He holds you close, bringing you in tight as he runs his fingers through your hair.
His lips are cold in the rain, but they feel good on yours. His warm breath mingles with yours and his arms hold you close. Your lips tingle with the sensation of the cold rain while your body feels the warmth of his body against yours.
His eyes are shut tight and his lips almost seem hungry for yours. He doesn't seem to want to break away from the kiss as his hand holds your cheek to him.
As the rain falls heavily around you, Gojo’s passion seems to burn hotter as he holds you close.
He pulls away and his voice is barely audible as he speaks to you. “I'm glad you finally admitted it.”
“Yeah, it took me long enough.” You say that more to yourself.
Both of you are completely soaked from the rain, his hair is sticking to his forehead and both of your clothes are wet.
“Well, it looks like you already said the magic words.” He leans in and kisses your forehead before standing up and pulling you up as well. “How about another kiss then, since you're already so talkative?”
“Give it to me, then.” You put both hands on his shoulder, one still holding the rose.
“Gladly.” He doesn't hesitate in leaning on you again, wrapping his arm around your waist more intimately and pulling you closer to him.
He pressed his lips against yours in a deeper kiss. If possible, Gojo seems even more affectionate than usual as he pulls you into a tight embrace, his tongue finding a home inside your mouth and his hand gently gripping the material of your uniform.
A faint sound escapes from his throat after a couple of minutes, almost like he's trying to catch his breath. “I love you, (Y/N).”
You’re breathless from the kiss, “I love you, too.” You nuzzle your nose on his.
“I'm so happy...” His voice is filled with emotion, like he's completely intoxicated with love towards you. His grip on you loosens slightly, though he still holds you close.
“Are we dating then?” He smiles at you and brings his hand up to pat your head. “I just want things to be official between us.”
“Hmm, I think so.” You rest your cheek on his body, enjoying the closeness of your body.
His smile widens as he presses his lips against your forehead. “I want you to know, I don't want to have secrets between us.” He runs his fingers through your wet hair. “I want to have more moments like this.” He pulls you closer again, this time placing a kiss on your lips again.
Gojo takes one of your hands between his own, feeling the rose that you kept on holding in your hand as he gently rubs your fingers.
“You're mine, right?”
“Always yours.”
The rose was his heart. You accepted it once and you stepped on it once. He gave you his once more, and you hold it close to your heart.
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Writing confession 5 and 6 got me emotional ಥ‿ಥ
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Text
Sting - LN
Summary: Rejection isn't something Lando is unfamiliar with in his love life and while it's never nice. This time it really stings and she's harder to let go than any other girl who has turned him away, maybe because she doesn't sound so sure about rejecting him.
Aston Martin employee!reader
Themes: smut
No part 2 requests please
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"I'm really flattered, but I think it's a bad idea." Y/n smiles trying to make it so it's not awkward but it's really hard to reject someone who just asked you out and it not be awkward. "I'm sorry, Lando."
Truth be told the two have got really close. Y/n is Aston Martin's social media manager, though Fernando handles a lot of it himself. She sort of aids him through any confusion and Lance prefers not to be involved in it a lot so she handles all his accounts, though he can log in and do stuff himself. She has access to all the team and driver social media accounts.
But her and Lando befriended each other purely through continuously being around each other and Lando having grown an obvious crush.
"Why is it a bad idea?" Lando asks trying not to lose his confidence.
"I think we're just really good as friends." Y/n states looking as if she's trying to keep up a positive front. Though she quickly softens a little and speaks up again. "You're a great guy. But I'm just not at a point in my life that I want to be dating anyone. I'm so...focused on my job and I think right now, I would say no to anyone."
"So you're saying it's not me it's you?" Lando surmises making earn nod a little, the guilt on her expression beginning to get hard to hide. "Don't feel bad."
"Never feels great rejecting someone." Y/n mumbles before Fernando appears shouting her name. "I have to go. That's his I have the most marvellous idea and need your help call."
"Good luck." Lando nods then turning and sighing as he heads into the McLaren unit straight towards his drivers room where Jon is standing setting up some warm up stuff.
"You don't look happy." Jon comments making her look at him for a moment. "Y/n say no?"
"Exactly that." Lando grumbles then growing as he throws himself onto the physio bed. "She said she's not in the right place for a relationship and is focusing on her job...which I can't actually argue with. But I'm still not really happy about it."
"You know-"
"I know." Lando mutters, not actually knowing but not really wanting to be told something about the situation. He's not happy, but he can't be angry about it either. "It just stings."
And it does, there was something about being friend zoned that really hurt this time. It's not as if he's never been rejected before, hell despite his popularity he's found himself the victim of so many friend zones that he has lost count. Embarrassingly.
It never feels particularly good, but this time really stings.
Maybe it's because they are friends and they have to see each other and he really doesn't want to lose her as a friend. The problem is that he wants her as much more than a friend.
-
Y/n and Lando continued to be friends, to spend time together and to have the amazing back and forth of flirting.
"You know, it is a shame that y/n can't date you." Fernando comments as they walk around the paddock. Y/n not there with the older driver for once. "The two of you get along so well, when she told me why she said no I couldn't believe it."
"What do you mean?" Lando frowns not thinking her reason was all that unbelievable. She's prioritising her job. What about that is so shocking?
"Well Lawrence saying she can date within the team but no one from another team. It seems a little bit far fetch to demand. Her love life is not his business or even team business, no?" Fernando questions making Lando's face drop.
"Lawrence? Like Lawrence Stroll?"
"The owner of the team, yes. He has it written in everyone's contract. He even got reports about her getting close to you, took her in for a meeting and she left practically in tears. I had to get her flowers to help her feel better." Fernando states sounding almost fatherly towards the young woman as he speaks in disapproval of it all.
Lando actually feels like he's just been punched in the gut with this information.
Why didn't she tell him?
Maybe because he almost certainly would've said they can hide it. He would've tried to talk her into a plan of just keeping it secret. After all they're friends, so long as they keep the PDA to what it is now then there's no real risk.
"I know she did not tell you about the contract clause. But I think you should know. Maybe you can do something about it." Fernando explains, essentially admitting he informed Lando with an ulterior motive that was not as innocent as Lando had initially assumed.
-
It took some poking at Fernando, but Lando got her hotel room from the Spaniard.
So later he shows up knocking on her door with no relenting even when there's no answer. Mainly because he messaged her about an hour ago and knows she's there.
The door swings open and she is glaring at him, holding a towel tightly around her wet body which honestly stirs something in Lando that he wasn't expecting to be forced to deal with upon coming to see her.
"I-Lando, what are you doing here?" Y/n stutters out, pulling her towel tighter around herself.
"We need to talk."
"Now?" Y/n frowns almost feeling helpless about it.
"Yes. Now."
Y/n looks around before stepping aside and gesturing for Lando to come in, which he does before she closes the door.
"So what is so important that you couldn't wait and had to smash on my door loud enough for a noise complaint?" Y/n questions trying to figure if she wants to put clothes on while Lando tries to keep his hands from pulling that towel off.
"You didn't tell me it was in your contract that you can't date me."
"Well it's not you specifically." Y/n frowns earning a slightly look of annoyance. "It doesn't matter if you know or not. It's not going to change anything."
Y/n looks at Lando who seems to be visibly with the cogs turning in his head. The man couldn't hide an emotion on his face if he tried and right now, he's thinking.
"Ok, while you process. Can I put some clothes on?"
"I'd really rather you didn't." Lando shrugs making her sigh at him and adjust her towel again. "We could just not tell people."
"You realise I would lose my job." Y/n frowns while Lando frowns.
"I'll get you a new job. The same job but on a better team." Lando tries making her look at him in slightly amusement. "Don't give me that look."
"What look?"
"Like I'm coming up with some childish fantasy."
"That is exactly what you're doing. I don't know what you expect me to do when that is genuinely what's happening here." Y/n states with a shrug as Lando steps towards her. "Lando...don't do something we'll regret."
"Will you regret it?"
"If it costs me my job then yes."
"But we're not dating...or is it that you can't have sex with anyone from another team too?'
"You're trying to get into the fine print?"
"Depends what the fine print says."
"I can't have relations with anyone from another team. So actually yes, I'm not allowed to have sex with you either."
Lando hums biting his lip lightly as he looks at her for a moment and she tries not to ruin her freshly showered state by sweating as his hand comes up and tugs the damp towel away.
Once glimpse at her body had his head dropping back with a groan echoing through his throat.
"Fucking hell, y/n. You can't force me to leave, please don't make me leave."
Y/n isn't usually so eager to just give herself to a man who she has yet to even kiss, especially after having rejected him so recently but she doesn't say anything.
Lando's hand moves down her waist, stroking her exposed skin while she swallows thickly. She's already decided his touch feels far too good for her to move away from it or say she doesn't want this.
"Want me to stop?"
"No." Y/n mumbles and that's all Lando needs.
Hands on her waist as he pushed her back till her knees hit the edge of the bed and she falls back onto the soft surface.
"Are you sure you want this?" Lando asks stopping and giving her the opportunity to back out. He might be feeling like he'll die if he doesn't get to at least touch every inch of her body. But he's not about to do something that she'll hate both himself and herself for.
"Yes. Don't make me overthink this." Y/n mumbles and Lando really doesn't have to be told twice.
There's something about the situation that stops him from going completely feral on the young woman. Instead he's going to really take his time.
Lando has no problem just looking at her, keeping his gaze fixed on her before he leans over and gets to do the one thing that he's been waiting to do for far too long.
Just fucking kiss the girl.
She tastes like mint, presumably having brushed her teeth before or after the shower.
But he moves his lips down her body, leaving a trail over marks on her skin, his teeth nip as he shamelessly leaves love bites as evidence he was there. He doesn't care how childish might be. He's giving her a memory of this moment that goes beyond right now.
All he can hear is her almost panting and when he is low enough that he throws her legs over his shoulders and uses the position to push her further up the bed for a better angle and access to her.
"Lando." Y/n whimpers just feeling him spread her lips and his breath hitting her pussy which is admittedly still wet from her shower really, but he can see her quivering and the sound of his name from her voice is enough for him to know it's pleasure that he's causing.
"Tell me what you want." Lando instructs feeling her thigh tense to fight the urge of closing and bringing herself some sort of relief.
"You. I want your mouth on me giving me the best head I've ever got." Y/n states not even hesitating and Lando almost wants to applaud her for how impressed he is she actually answered and did not stutter meaning no area of confusion.
He knows exactly what she wants from him and he's more than happy to deliver on it.
"Lando please."
He didn't actually mean to hesitate to the point of hearing her beg, but it certainly isn't an unwelcome sound. But he doesn't waste anymore time and dives in between her legs properly lapping his tongue and groaning at the fact that she might've just showered but there's a slick there telling him that if he had any doubt of her being turned on. He doesn't need to doubt it from the taste of her on his tongue.
Y/n feels so completely desperate for Lando, she didn't realise how immediately addictive his touch would be.
"F-Fuck, L-Lando." Y/n moans, pressing herself heavily into the bed beneath her.
Her hand reaches down to his hair, tugs on his scalp pulling him closer much to his delight. He's face is smothered in her and he's feeling the side of him that wanted to drag this experience out suddenly disappear as soon as he feels her twitching in a build up and then completely spasming on his tongue. Her thighs locking on his head trying to contain herself as she almost tries to move away from him as if the sensation is all too much, but he keeps his hands on her thighs stopping her from getting anywhere till he's made sure she's rode out this orgasm for as long as possible.
Actually to his surprise, despite him making no effort to let up as she moans and moves her hands to the sheets trying to ground herself from the overstimulation.
When he finally moves off there's a matter of seconds which is him, his body drags up against her with the perfect amount of pressure on her that she's grappling for him.
"What do you want?" Lando asks, breath hot and his face wet. His lips look almost swollen and his face is flushed. She can't even stop herself from reach a hand to his face for a moment both of them slightly breathless.
"I want you, inside me. Right now. Please." Y/n pants which is all Lando needs to reach down, gently pushing the tip in before moving his hand to hook a hand under her knee, pushing her leg back for a better angle which is very much perfectly effective.
Lando almost chokes on his spit from the feeling of her wrapped around him. The idea of holding back on her crosses his mind, but that's all it does and then it disappears along with any sense of self-control.
He's only relieved to hear y/n whimpering and moaning through every thrust which is almost a no mercy approach from Lando, just pounding into her not able to even entertain the idea of slowing down. He already knows he abusing her g-spot from the 2nd or 3rd thirst thanks to her reaction and when he reaches down to pinch at her clit.
Y/n practically cries from the additional stimulation. Her nerves short-circuiting from such attention. He's touching her like he owns her body and knows it's every secret that even she had yet to make use of.
He feels her start to quiver around him, fighting off a second orgasm but it doesn't last long as she completely tightens around him, still trying to deny herself the high that her body is on the verge of being pushed over the edge of.
"Let it go, baby." Lando states with a voice so heavy in lust that it completely pours over her like he's setting out to melted her. She's arched up against him and clenched down around him. Her spasming around him in such a way that Lando is locked in her as he cums, both in a shared world of bliss.
Y/n's body takes it's time to actually relax while Lando keeps himself pressed as deep in her as possible, his face in her neck.
"Ok...Ok, maybe...maybe we could try keeping this hidden...just until I find another job that doesn't contractual obligate me to not date someone from another team." Y/n pants running a hand up through his hair as she tries to catch her breath and actually stop seeing start. "So long as you promise to do that again."
"I'll do that and more." Lando grunts pulling out and sighing as he looks at her from the shifted back position. "That's a promise."
"Good." Y/n smiles before he kisses her a couple times.
"I think you might need another shower."
"I'll do it in a bit...I still need just...a bit of recovery time." Y/n yawns almost feeling like falling asleep from the amount of energy that just completely burn through any energy she had. "Actually I might need food, water and a nap before I even consider getting up."
Lando smiles kissing her again, now loving to abuse this new privilege.
"I'll take care of you." Lando smiles then getting up while she frowns.
"What are you doing?" Y/n questions making him grin leaning back over her for another kiss. "Ok, that's lovely but not an answer."
"Don't move." Lando grins then pushing her back onto the bed. "I'm good at both orgasms and aftercare."
Y/n sighs taking a moment to realise this man really just turned her world upside down. But to her surprise it's in the best way. Even if Fernando is about to throttle Lawrence for the contract clause that is going to lead to her inevitable departure from Aston Martin just so she can pursue a relationship with Lando.
But there's pretty good reason (good sex) with a man who has very apparently made his point that he isn't wavering on his feelings for her.
Taglist: @namgification @hiireadstuff @jsjcue @geniusalpaca @itsjustkhaos @llando4norris @partyinpitlane @lpab @xoscar03 @harrysdimple05 @mellowarcadefun @cixrosie @scopeiguess @racingheartsposts @c-losur3
1K notes · View notes
touyasdoll · 8 months
Text
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Revered
pairing: Katsuki Bakugou x f!reader
word count: 1k
warnings: sex with feelings, alcohol, you've both been drinking, friends to lovers, he comes across a little possessive, dacryphilia if you squint, body worship, unprotected sex, let me know if I missed any ❤️
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“Do your ears work, princess? Can you hear that?” He sneers, breath tickling the crook of your neck before he pushes himself up, biceps flexing beautifully as he looms over you.
He’s undoubtedly referring to the lewd, loud sounds manifesting between the two of you. It's absolutely intoxicating, just like his touch. You're already tipsy, but now you are drunk on what this man is doing to you.
“This is what pussy is supposed to sound like when you’re getting fucked.”
You aren't quite sure how you ended up here. With Katsuki fucking Bakugou of all people plunging his cock in and out of you while you cling to his strong arms for dear life.
You blame it on the alcohol. That's the only excuse you can think of to explain why he drew closer to you on the couch, hands and lips exploring places that your dear friend had never ventured to touch before.
Why the glasses you were sipping out of landed on the coffee tabe and he somehow wound up on top of you, his searing kiss stealing the very air from your lungs. Why your clothes lay discarded and you're now laid bare for him, limbs tangled up as sweat collects on both of your brows as your bodies move in tandem, seeking sweet, sweet pleasure.
"That pathetic excuse of a man you called a boyfriend never made you feel like this, did he?" He asks as he grabs your jaw, his touch still so gentle, even as his tone grows more desperate. "Did he?"
"Never," you reply, breathless and barely able to form the words as you lose yourself in the delirium.
Katsuki was definitely more imposing than the man who'd dumped you. He'd stood you up for the last time and it was Katsuki who'd come to comfort you, joining you in your libations as you drowned your sorrows over a man who was never worth your time to begin with.
"That's what I fucking thought," he says as a handsome smirk spreads across his face.
His expression is almost devious. It's dark and full of salascious promise as his strokes grow longer. Slower. Deeper.
It feels as if he's nearly penetrating your lungs the way that head of his cock drags against your pulsating walls and knocks against your cervix, kissing it with each pass of his hips, never giving you the chance to truly breathe as his body drives into yours with immense purpose. Like he has something to prove.
Because he does.
He's watched and he's waited. Too many men have come along and broken your heart. Used your body and never taken proper care of your heart, but that's over now.
As he peers down at your perfect form, he makes a promise to himself and to you. His hands glide along your body, worshipping every curve and dip. His mouth travels along your neck, your breasts, your jaw before they claim your mouth again.
It's heated, though that could just be the booze. It must be, you tell yourself, but no one has ever kissed you like this before. Like they mean it. Like they need it to survive. Like they need you.
"You are never going to be left wanting again, beautiful. I won't let it happen," he breathes out, his lips moving against yours before they swallow you whole again.
Your tongues tangle and you kiss him back despite how your lungs burn and your body tenses, pulled taut like the strings of an instrument that he has spent years mastering and he's performing a fucking symphony right now. To a crowd that only consists of you.
"You deserve to be pleasured. Treasured. Fucking revered," he growls through grit teeth, picking up the pace with his strokes as his hands works into your hair, cradling you with care like the prize he obviously thinks that you are.
"Katsuki," you gasp, a frantic energy swelling inside of you as the song he's crafting swells to a triumphant crescendo. "I-I'm gonna cum."
"Yes you are. You're going to cum all over my fucking cock. Like you should've been doing all this time. You are mine now. No one elses," he pants, sweat dripping from his face onto your breasts to glide down your torso. "I finally have you and I'm not letting you go. I've got you, gorgeous. Cum for me."
You hear his words, but they're drowned out by the sound of someone screaming. Of you, screaming. Howling with unrestrained need as the dam bursts and you break for him, gushing around his thick cock as it keeps on plunging in and out, nearly driving you mad.
"Katsuki!" You cry, literally, as tears prick your eyes, a warm wetness sliding over your cheeks when your eyes squeeze shut and you cling tighter to him, digging your nails into the fibers of his muscles.
"Fuck," he groans, a guttural noise echoing around your living room as his hot seed spills from him and into you, making the slick mess between your thighs a practical crime sense of passion and pure need.
His hips keep moving, drawing out the sinful noises the both of you trade as your respective highs peak and gradually begin to fade away, leaving you a weak, shaking mess beneath him.
"I love you," he confesses with the last of the oxygen in his lungs, his nose nuzzling against the crook of you neck as he lays his body on top of yours.
It's all encompassing. His presence. His words. His devotion. It feels like a safety blanket, bundling you up in all the things that you were searching for all along when it was right here in front of you the whole time.
"I love you too, Katsuki," you whisper the words you'd left unspoken for far too long against his temple.
He smiles against your skin. He's wrung dry after offering everything up to you, but your words renew him, giving him the strength to push up and ghost his fingertips along your cheek as his crimson eyes bore into your own.
"You will never want again. I'll take care of you from now on," he promises, catching your chin between his thumb and forefinger as he draws you in to another kiss.
This one is slow, sweet, and tender. It's a vow that he will never break.
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5K notes · View notes
roosterr · 8 months
Note
hi! i was wondering if i could request your thoughts/drabble on how the 141 would react if a mission went awful and you were left in the hospital with amnesia! like the reader wakes up and has no memory of her team🥲
if you aren’t taking requests atm or this doesn’t fit with your writing, i completely understand and you can ignore this! just wanted to say i binged your masterlist and absolutely love all your writings! keep up the amazing content <3
the 141 when you have amnesia
note: AAA TYSM FOR REQUESTING THIS!!!! and ty for reading my stuff, it means a lot!! i had so much fun writing this it's unbelievable, this concept is just so JUICY,,, i really hope you like it!! <3
wc: 2.8k
warnings: established relationship, angst sadness and depression wow i did not mean for this to get so sad
ao3
[part two]
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price
✹ he would undoubtedly blame himself for what happened to you. as your captain, it was his job to keep you safe and make sure you came home in one piece, and he'd failed you there.
✹ weeks and weeks go by as he waits endlessly for you to wake up, and with every day that ends with you still unconscious, he feels his resolve slipping just a little bit more.
✹ he holds himself together as well as he can, keeping his head high and projecting confidence that you'd be okay, if only to keep the team's spirit up. they still needed their captain, and he'd be damned if he failed them too.
✹ behind closed doors, however, he's a mess.
✹ john drinks, a lot, so much that it’s irresponsible, but the image of you, beaten and bloody and barely breathing haunts him every time he closes his eyes. he locks himself in his office, away from the others and ignores their concerned calls through the door.
✹ he visits you, only when it's late and there's no one else around to hear him whisper apologies to you with a lump in his throat. he confesses to you like a sinner, all the things he wishes he'd done differently, how he'd put himself in your place in a heartbeat if it meant you'd be okay.
✹ other than those nights, he does his best to stay away from the infirmary. it’s selfish, but he can’t bear to see you in such a fragile state.
✹ he’s in his office when you wake up.
✹ the nurse finds him on his second drink of the night, and no sooner than the news leaves her mouth he's pushing past her and rushing to the infirmary. he bursts through the door, startling you and the other nurse with you.
✹ "hey, sweetheart." he’s by your side in an instant, taking one of your hands in both of his as he gazes lovingly into your eyes. it feels like it's been an age since you've looked at him, the sight of your eyes alone almost has the dam behind his own breaking.
✹ you’re staring back at him with a somewhat lost expression, but john’s so relieved that you’re here, that you're back, it slips his notice.
✹ he leans over to press a kiss to your forehead, like he's done hundreds of times before, but you stop him by placing your other hand on his chest. he pulls back with a concerned frown, finally noticing the unsure look you're wearing.
✹ the nurse briefly explains that some memory loss is common for the amount of head trauma you sustained. he should've expected something like this, in fact it's a miracle you made it out with just memory loss.
✹ "i'm sorry, can you tell me who you are?" you ask meekly, looking back at him with an apologetic look in your eye. you look guilty, like it's your fault this happened and not because of his own shortcomings.
✹ john's heart sinks at your words, but he's careful not to show it. amnesia can be temporary, he knows that, he just has to jog your memory.
✹ "i'm john," he smiles as warmly as he can through the panic in his chest, lifting his left hand to show you the wedding band on his finger, "your husband."
✹ your jaw falls open, your eyes wide as you look between the ring, his face, and the nurse behind him, who simply nods in confirmation of the captain's words.
✹ "you're…" you mutter, disbelief taking over your voice, "my husband?"
✹ you take his left hand in yours, bringing it closer to your face and examining the wedding band, a tiny smile pulling at one corner of your lips.
✹ "yes, love," his chest rumbles with a chuckle, grasping your left hand and showing you the matching band on your own finger, "we're married."
✹ "seriously?" you ask, comparing the rings on your fingers and looking back up to him with an almost comically surprised face. john nods again, his moustache tilted with an amused smile.
✹ "been together for nearly seven years."
✹ "how the hell did i convince you to marry me?" you mutter. at that, he lets out a real laugh, bringing your hand up to his lips and pressing a kiss to your knuckles.
✹ "think i should be the one askin' that question."
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gaz
✹ kyle takes it harder than anyone.
✹ he visited you once, at the first opportunity when you were stable enough to not require constant observation, but the sight ruins him. you looked so weak, nothing like how you should; your cheeks were sunken and your skin has a sickly sheen to it, and there was nothing he could do to help you.
✹ he couldn't stand it.
✹ he becomes so easily irritated, a hair trigger just waiting to snap. the others want to help him, but he won't let them get close enough to try. any mention of your name has him shutting down, leaving faster than they can finish their sentence.
✹ he barely sleeps, spending most nights curled up in your bed with his tears soaking your pillow. he surrounds himself with your clothes, things that smell like you, but your scent eventually fades and he just feels so alone without you.
✹ price finds him like that one night, sitting on the floor with his back leaning against your bed after throwing up from crying so hard. he hauls kyle up by the collar of his shirt, and forces him to meet his stern eyes through the tears.
✹ "pull yourself together, garrick! they need you to be strong for them, how d'you think they're gonna feel when they wake up and see you like this?"
✹ after that it's like the spell is broken, and he realises just how pathetic he's been acting. in the weeks you've been out, he's only visited you – his partner – once. you'd never forgive him if you knew.
✹ from that night onwards, he visits you at least once a day, filling multiple vases around your bed with beautiful flowers and making sure they never wilt.
✹ he got 'get well soon' cards for you too, having each of your teammates, and even kate, sign one to decorate your room.
✹ you wake up surrounded by life and colour, physical evidence of how much he loves you that puts a smile on your exhausted face, even if you don't know who left them.
✹ he's off base when you wake up, picking up a fresh bouquet for your room. his phone rings as he's leaving the florists, and as soon as he hears the nurse's voice he's sprinting back to his car, throwing the flowers onto the passenger seat and racing back to base.
✹ he bursts through the infirmary doors to see you standing with the help of the nurse, your legs wobbly but your face determined. he almost breaks down in the doorway.
✹ when you look up and meet his eyes, he feels his heart stutter in his chest. he rushes towards you, the new bouquet slipping from his fingers, and almost knocks you off your feet with the how hard he embraces you.
✹ you let out a small 'oomph' as he squeezes you, hesitantly wrapping your own arms around his torso. he sniffles into your shoulder, a few tears wetting your shirt despite his attempts to hold them back.
✹ "hey, uhm…" your voice reaches his ears, hoarse with disuse, "are you okay? what's your name?"
✹ "what?" kyle lifts his head, pulling back to mirror your confused gaze. "babe, what're you on about?"
✹ the nurse pulls him aside, leaving you sitting on the edge of your bed as she explains your amnesia to him.
✹ you really didn't remember him. his heart withers in his chest, the pain of losing you all over again spreading to the ends of every limb.
✹ "no, no no no–" he mumbles, stumbling back over to where you sit and cupping your worried face so gently, like you'd break if he was too rough. "please, love, you have to remember"
✹ you cover his hands with your own, a few tears falling from your eyes and rolling hot against kyle's palms. "i'm sorry, i want to remember, but…"
✹ "please, i love you…"
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soap
✹ johnny spends every free moment at your bedside.
✹ he talks to you, tells you stories about everything that's happened since you've been asleep; the time ghost burnt dinner and set the fire alarms off, a robin that landed on the windowsill of your shared room, anything that comes to mind.
✹ sometimes he plays your favourite songs, sitting on the end of your bed softly humming along, praying that you'll hear it and come back to him.
✹ most often though, he draws you. he fills page after page of his sketchbook with sketches of you; the peaceful look on your face as you lay next to him, memories from before the accident, the two of you together – though he always puts infinitely more detail into you than himself.
✹ similarly to the captain, johnny stays positive about your condition, refusing to even entertain the idea of you not waking up. he's optimistic, and so good at hiding the anguish of being without you that even ghost is fooled by his facade.
✹ he won't let the others worry about him. you're the one in the hospital, you're the one that deserves their sympathies, he has to stay positive for everyone so they don't worry, so you have something familiar to come back to when you wake up–
✹ in reality, he's living in denial. he's on the verge of a steep mental nosedive, and if he looks past his delusions for even a second, he's afraid he'll spiral into a pit he won't be able to claw his way back out of.
✹ so he continues to live like that. he has one-sided conversations with you, going on for hours as if you're talking back to him. he brings you your favourite meal when the mess hall makes it, putting it on your bedside table so you can reach it and clearing it up the next day when he comes back.
✹ when you eventually, finally wake up, he's already there with you.
✹ it was late, and against the nurse's wishes he'd climbed into your hospital bed with you, an arm around your shoulder holding you close his chest while his other hand doodles away in his sketchbook.
✹ you let out a small sound and shift against him, and his heart skips a beat under your ear at the realiseation that you're back.
✹ any lingering tiredness immediately disappears from his mind, as he throws his sketchbook carelessly onto the side table and wastes no time in gathering you up into his arms and bringing you into a crushing hug.
✹ a groggy, surprised noise leaves you, the sound of your voice lighting up johnny's face with a smile so wide it aches. he loosens his hold just enough to hold the side of your head with one hand, gazing into your eyes like you were the only person in the world.
✹ "there y'are, bonnie, i missed you so much,"
✹ he presses his lips to the top of your head, his eyes glassing and his heart full with how relieved he is that you're awake.
✹ "...what's going on?" you mutter, your eyes darting all over his face and to the room around you with a confused furrow in your brow.
✹ "lemme call the nurse," he replies with an easy, comforting smile, reaching somewhere behind him for the call button.
✹ while you wait for the nurse, he helps you sit up, adjusting the pillows behind your back so you can sit comfortably, all the while rambling about everything and nothing all at once.
✹ "you should've seen gaz's face, darl, it was priceless–"
✹ "i'm sorry, i… i dont remember you…"
✹ nothing has ever shut him up quite as effectively as those words.
✹ "wh… what? stop messin' about, bonnie," he chuckles, desperately searching your eyes for the humour that was missing. when you only shake your head in response, the smile fades from his face and quickly morphs into concern.
✹ "sergeant mactavish, how many times do i have to tell you to get off the bed!" the nurse exclaims as she enters the room. he doesn't get down though, just fixes her with the most intense look he's ever worn.
✹ "why don't they remember me?"
✹ the nurse explains that an injury like yours was bound to cause some lasting damage, but amnesia was more often than not temporary.
✹ "i'm sorry, i wish i could remember you…" you mutter, dropping your gaze to your lap as he turns back to you.
✹ johnny exhales deeply, finding a great sense of comfort that you'll most likely get your memory back. he gently tilts your chin up again so he can stare deep into your eyes.
✹ "don't apologise, that just means i get to woo you all over again, bonnie."
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ghost
✹ simon would be destroyed.
✹ while you're knocked out its like he forgets how to be human. he eats, sleeps, and breathes on autopilot – like a robot with a function, no feeling, just keeping himself alive until you wake up.
✹ it worries the others, price especially, but the walls around his heart are expertly crafted, and without you by his side he sees no purpose in lowering them.
✹ when you do wake up, the first thing you see is him, sitting at your bedside with his hand enclosed around yours. his eyes are closed, but he's still very much awake, in fact he finds himself unable to rest anywhere but in the chair by your side.
✹ the way you try to pull your hand from his brings him back to the present and alerts him to your consciousness. his eyes snap open in less than a second, already glassy with the pure relief he feels now you're back.
✹ but you're looking at him differently. where there would once be soft affection, now he can only see confusion, and worst of all, panic.
✹ and there's fear in how your shoulders bunch up, but simon tries his best to ignore that thought.
✹ "hey, you're alright, darlin'," he coos, as gentle as he can manage, pushing the rising dread to the back of his mind.
✹ he presses the button to call the nurse, letting go of your trembling hand bringing it up to your shoulder. your worried gaze flicks to his arm and back to his face, which makes him pause in his tracks.
✹ "who… who are you?"
✹ simon's waited so long to hear your voice again, but hearing those four words from you shatters his heart into pieces.
✹ no.
✹ you didn't forget him. there was no way.
✹ "it's…" he swallows hard, blinking rapidly to hold back the tears threatening to fall. "it's me, love, it's simon."
✹ you're still looking at him with that same anxious expression, and he curses himself when he realises he's still wearing his balaclava. he practically rips it from his head, dropping it to the floor without a care for where it fell.
✹ your eyes study his bare face, tracing over every crease and scar, the mess of hair on top of his head, and finally landing on his desperate eyes.
✹ "i'm sorry, i…" you look guilty, the subtle shake of your head hurting simon like a knife to the chest. "...do i know you?"
✹ the silence that follows your words is unbearable.
✹ you really did forget him.
✹ all the time you'd spent together, the memories you shared, the love you had; it was all gone, just like that.
✹ suddenly he felt like the walls were closing in on him, he couldn't get enough air and his skin was crawling with the need to escape.
✹ at that moment, the nurse comes through the doors, startling simon into standing from the chair and stumbling backwards. he never takes his eyes off of your guilt-ridden face. you didn't know him, not anymore, and that meant he was all alone again, with no one to care for him and call home.
✹ the emptiness in his chest was enough to make him want to rip the hair from his scalp.
✹ the nurse says something, stealing your attention from him with words he's too overwhelmed to listen to. he takes the opportunity to back away, disappearing through the doors with a hand covering his mouth, fighting the urge to throw up.
✹ it was a miracle to two of you got together in the first place – simon didn't know if he could get you to love him again.
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3K notes · View notes
osachiyo · 2 months
Text
EAT IT LIKE YOU MEAN IT ! ✘ 𝐝𝐚𝐳𝐚𝐢, 𝐜𝐡𝐮𝐮𝐲𝐚, 𝐣𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐨 & 𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐩𝐨
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𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 — n/sfw content, headcanons + rating, female reader, cunnilingus, cum eating, squirting, pussy slapping, face-sitting, praise, overstimulation, etc
𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 — i wrote this while being sick, so don't attack me if this has a lot of spelling mistakes and errors.. and i just wanted to write some silly little headcanons so my apologies if this isn't good lol happy reading as always and i hope you enjoy :3 (yes i did remove fedya from this sorry) NOT PROOFREAD
𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 — bsd men and how they eat the 😼
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𝓓𝓪𝔃𝓪𝓲
this man is a MUNCHERRRR. will gladly eat you out any day of the week, any time of the day. he does not care if you're at work — will not hesitate drag you in a storage room of the agency and eat you out there. one time ranpo walked in on dazai giving you the most toe-curling head, and used that as blackmail on you two, demanding he'll keep quiet if you bought him candy for the rest of the week. safe to say that you put a ban on sex at work for a month (spoiler alert: you didn't last).
sit. on. his. face. make a mess on it — drench his face in your juices and he'll thank you. hell, even better if you ride it — he'll cum untouched so fast.
he's skilled in the art of eating pussy — knows all of your weak spots like the back of his hand. don't ask him how many times he's done this — he'll just flash you an innocent looking smile, never actually answering your question.
knows how to make you scream and takes advantage of that — urging you to cum over and over on his silver tongue, saying "just gimme one more, darling," only for it to turn into another, and another until you lose count.
he takes his time when giving you head — tongue tracing your hole all the way up to your clit, savouring the taste of your arousal before he devours you.
KEEPS EYE CONTACT !! works his mouth on your cunt while his big, warm, brown eyes filled with mirth stares at you the entire time, smirking at the beautiful expressions you make — loving how flustered you get from his gaze alone.
likes to use his fingers while eating you out — long digits probing at the rough patch of your g-spot while he sucks on your clit — a deadly combo that has you creaming in his mouth in seconds.
overall a 10/10, knows how to use his tongue and isn't afraid of using it.
𝓒𝓱𝓾𝓾𝔂𝓪
messy eater !! is not afraid of getting filthy, if he's gonna go down on you, might as well do it properly.
he's really into 69 ! not because he gets pleasured as well (though he's definitely not gonna complain about it), it's more of a physiological thing for him. it gets him so impossibly hard when you slobber and struggle to take his cock down your throat just because of the sheer pleasure he's giving you. it's adorable to see, really. also gives him an excuse to shove his cock down your throat himself, groaning something about "him doing all the work," but he wouldn't have it any other way.
as much as he loves pinning you to the bed, holding your hips down while shoving his face between your legs — he'd much rather eat it from the back. what can he say? he loves your ass — spreading it apart to bury his tongue into your hole, occasionally slapping or pinching your cheeks to tease you — it's pure filth.
he knows your limits, of course, but sometimes he can't help but go a little overboard — too lost in the feeling of lapping up your sweetness, circling your clit before dipping his tongue into your hole. it's best not to interrupt him during this — unless you actually want to stop, he's gonna pin you down harder with a low growl before getting back to his meal.
he doesn't use his fingers that often while eating you out — would much rather make you release on his tongue, but wouldn't mind indulging you if you really wanted it. gloved fingers probing at your sweet spot — groaning out praises for being so good for him.
he's a talker !! growling, muttering and even moaning words of encouragement while he eats your pussy — the vibrations of his lust-filled voice making your toes curl and head lull back.
9/10, he's less about technique and more about instinct — and it works.
𝓙𝓸𝓾𝓷𝓸
he's a sadist through and through — very into edging you. likes to hear your heartbeat speed up then suddenly drop when he pulls his face away from your cunt, laughing at your misery like it's the funniest thing in the world. don't get him wrong though — he eventually does let you cum, eventually.
when he's not edging you, he's overstimulating you. sometimes he does it right after edging you, too — didn't you want to cum? he's giving you what you wanted this whole time, you should thank him for it, really.
not afraid of using toys on you during he goes down on you — he loves hearing your desperate whines and and attempts of forcing him away because "it's too much," what nonsense — he thinks, jouno knows your limits, he knows you can take it. now be a good girl for him and let him enjoy his meal.
100% a pussy slapper — he likes hearing you squeal his name, while your neighbors definitely hate you both for that. he's so mean about it too, spreading your pussy lips apart to land a harsh but swift smack on your clit — it has you tearing up and crying out his name so cutely, he can't help but do it again, again and again.
jouno knows exactly which spots make you writhe in pleasure, and he takes advantage of that — relentlessly pounding his fingers into your g-spot while suckling on your clit, it has you seeing stars in mere moments.
did i mention he can make you squirt? he's incredible with his hands and mouth — combine that with the fact that he knows all of your weak spots, it's a killer combination. even if you're not a squirter, he still gives you the best orgasms you've had in your life.
8/10, he knows your limits and knows when to stop — but sometimes he can be a little too… sadistic.
𝓡𝓪𝓷𝓹𝓸
another munch right here — he'll eat you out anytime he wants, and when you want him to, of course !
ranpo gets super whiney while going down on you, his face would be flushed down to his neck — muffled moans of your name escaping his glossy lips, it's an adorable sight.
his glasses would be all fogged up, please take them off for him so they don't get dirty (he'll be whiney after if you don't)
ranpo has 0 experience, might need you to teach him some of the basics at first but he's a quick learner, quickly figures out and memorises which spots make you moan louder and your cunt wetter.
he doesn't care that much about technique, relies on feeling instead.
he doesn't like using his fingers, would rather pleasure you simply with his tongue — but he might cave in if you whined for long enough.
LOVES having you sit on his face — he needs to be drowned in your essence, and what better way to do that than have you ride his face? use him to get off, he might whine and kick his feet at first but he'll give in eventually !
sucks on your clit like it's his favorite candy — at least that's what he tells you. could spend hours and hours between your legs if you'd let him, sucking at licking at your clit before dipping his tongue in your hole, he might like it even better than candy, actually.
7/10, inexperienced but his enthusiasm makes up for it — really messy too.
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note — if you don't agree with the ratings then that's fine, they can eat you out however you want them to lol.
tags ・ @hopefulpain @inkmooon @constant-existential-terror @nda-approval @mellieellie @seiiushi @lynxxyyy @kentopedia
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"What's wrong?" Robin asks, bumping her arm against his as she joins him leaning against the counter, staring out the front door of Family Video.
Steve doesn't bother to lie. Robin would know, she always does. "I'm not sure wrong is the right word, but it's, it's something."
"Wanna talk about it?"
"Yeah," he says, taking a quick glance around. It's just after 11pm on Saturday. They've got another hour of work before they can officially close, but Hawkins closes down at 9. The store is empty currently, and since they're facing the door, they'll know if someone comes in. "I just don't know- I don't-"
"Gather your words. Speak when you're ready. I'm not going anywhere," Robin says, and it speaks volumes that she didn't call him dingus. Steve's never upset by the nickname, not really, but sometimes, when the conversation is heavy, he can't deal with nicknames. Especially not ones that are meant teasingly now but started as an insult.
"I feel- I feel ungrateful and, like, selfish, because I'm... I'm not happy with Eddie," Steve says, then immediately frowns because that's not right. It's not wrong, either, but it's. "I'm not unhappy with Eddie. I love him. I love him so much, Robin."
"I know you do. It's disgusting."
"And I got into this relationship knowing what Eddie's like. I love him 'cause of those things, not in spite of-"
"You don't have to convince me you love him."
"Right. Right. It's just. It's like, I thought, I don't know, that I wouldn't have to always be the guy?" Steve says, and it's followed by such a long pause that he looks over. It startles a laugh out of him at how much Robin looks like him right now. Confused, brow furrowed and mouth slightly open. That's his perplexed expression, and it's mirrored on Robin's face now.
Well. Not now because he laughed so she's glaring at him.
"Sorry. It was like looking into a mirror for a moment there."
She wrinkles her nose at him and says, "What do you mean 'always be the guy'?"
He lets out a sigh. "I just mean- Eddie's the first guy I've ever dated. And there was, like, unwritten rules when dating girls. Don't give me that face, I already know the rant about straights and their het-ro-norman-whatever-"
"Heteronormativity."
"Yes, that. I know it's bad, working on unlearning it, etcetera, etcetera. Can I just get through this using the words I do have?"
"Yes. Sorry."
He waves off her apology and continues, "So, the unwritten but absolute rules of straight dating. The guy asks. The guy plans the date. He pays, if it's something that requires money. He gets the door, offers his jacket if it's cold, gives the flowers and chocolates on Valentines Day and- sorry. The guy does all that. I do all that. And I just. I want to not, not have to?"
Robin's eyes soften and she gives a sad smile. "Eddie doesn't do those things?"
Steve frowns. "Not- he's done some of those things but it's not... It's never been romantic. Never felt... intentionally romantic. Which is why I feel so ungrateful and selfish. 'Cause Eddie's not a romantic. Not like I am. And I shouldn't expect him to be!"
She frowns. "But you don't expect him to be."
"I mean, yeah. I don't. Which just makes this worse, right? Because Eddie tries. In his own way. And I'm still..."
"What does Eddie do to try?"
"He loans me jackets when I'm cold. And it's- it's like a throwback to the upside down. He'll fold it all nice and then throw it at me full force. Like with the battle vest," Steve smiles at the memory, despite his sour mood.
"That doesn't sound very romantic. That sounds like an inside joke. He could do that same thing while not dating you and it wouldn't be weird."
"Can't an inside joke be romantic?"
Robin nods as she turns, back to the counter so she can hop up on it. "Can be. And I guess if you find get pelted in the face by jackets romantic, that's your kink."
"Why do I talk to you?" Steve groans, and Robin shrugs. "Anyway, I guess I just... I want to be the one taken care of, sometimes, but not just when- God, I'm so selfish, aren't I?" He paces away from the counter, running a hand through his hair.
Eddie's a good boyfriend. He listens when Steve rambles about sports and stats, asking questions and actually engages in conversation. He takes care of Steve when a migraine leaves him all but useless; gets him his meds and water and combs his fingers through Steve's hair softly until it lulls Steve to sleep. Eddie pays attention enough to know the little things about Steve that he doesn't say out loud.
"Not just when?" Robin prompts, and Steve realizes he quit talking.
"Not just when I'm hurt. I want doors held for me, and for him to plan a romantic night, either out or in! And I- I want him to give me his jacket by wrapping it around my shoulders like I do for him."
"I'm going to say something, and you aren't allowed to be upset by it."
Steve nods.
"You have to tell him. Eddie's not gonna know you want these things unless you say so."
He nods again, because he knows that. He does. It's just... "I got with him knowing he wasn't a romantic person. I don't want- I don't know how to say it without making it sound like I want him to change. Or make him feel like he's not enough, or that he's a bad boyfriend for not having done this and-"
"Steve! Jesus, now who's the mirror? It's Eddie. He loves you. He'll listen. Even as you fumble your way through an explanation. A conversation is not the make or break of this relationship."
Steve swallows even though it feels like there's stones piling up in his stomach. A single conversation broke his last relationship, but Eddie's not Nancy.
"Yeah. You're right. I think I'm just... I'm afraid of making Eddie feel that same way Nancy made me feel, when she called us bullshit. I was blinded-sided by it all and I don't, I can't do that to Eddie."
"You won't. 'Cause this situation is different. You love Eddie, and Eddie loves you, and that's real and true. I think it would hurt Eddie more to think there's this whole other category of shit he could be doing for you, but isn't, 'cause he doesn't even know you'd like it, much less want it."
Steve nods as she speaks. It's all true, and he feels less like there are stones in his stomach. "Thanks, Bobbin. I don't- I might give it a few days before I talk to Eddie about it, but I will."
"You better, dingus," she hopes off the counter and looks at the clock, groaning when she sees it's still not midnight. "Think Keith will kill us if we close early?"
"No way. He'd have to cover all our shifts until he can hire replacements. We're too valuable to him to die."
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