#hope y'all are enjoying the new season!

[chabbit]

it looks like shit’s really going down in the owl house fandom, huh?

[hithelleth]

.

[hoshigray]

𝐒𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐇𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐮𝐭𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐧 | satoru gojō

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 : The start of the spring semester is supposed to be fresh and new, not be cramped up in a closet with your frenemy at a party! And what's worse: you actually like the feeling of his lips on yours!?

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: Gojo x fem/afab! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - modern + college AU - frenemies to lovers - Gojo and reader are at least age 20 - implied that reader is a virgin - first kiss - awakening feelings - virginity loss - kissing/making out in a closet - thigh riding - grinding/humping - sex in shared rooms; college dorms (empty) - breast fondling + sucking + nipple play - fingering (f! receiving) - oral (f! receiving) - orgasm denial- clitoral play (sucking, pinching and swiping) - missionary position - protected sex (psa: wrap it up or get tf up) - pet names (baby, cutie, gorgeous, pretty, princess, sweetie) - cameos: Utahime, Geto, Shoko and Mei Mei - humor bc I'm [not] funny - mention of vaginal pain, spit and tears.

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 10.3k (i'm so sick...)

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞: yessirrrr let's get this party started, shall we? >:333 plz enjoy the first part of this series!! and tysm for 5.3k !!! y'all are too kind && happy bday to my gal, jazzy!! hope you enjoyed your special day, jazzy jam c:

❤︎ « next story

“GO FUCK YOURSELF, SATORU GOJO!”

“BETTER THAN FUCKING YOU, Y/N L/N!”

“They’re at it again already, huh?”

“Yeah, man, it’s going to two o’clock. Might as well enjoy the show.”

College is hard enough as is. The fact that you’re now back for the spring semester is tiring enough, wanting to get these classes over with and wrap this up. Spring, Easter, and Summer break are just right around the corner, the cherry on top for this exhausting second half of your junior year. Those are the end goals!

But alas, the semester just started. The students scramble around buying their textbooks and switching courses around, struggling to make final move-in decisions and already stressing over seasonal depression at this time of year. Spring semester, huh? Same old, same old.

Although there are negatives that make it nerve-racking, there are still good things that come with this junior year. Finally over with winter break, you’re excited to be back to living with your roommates, Utahime, Mei Mei, and Shoko! They’re your girlfriends for a reason; missing hanging and stressing with them as they made your college experience much better than you expected. 

And it doesn’t end there, either! You missed study sessions at the campus café with your second-year peers, Yu Haibara and Kento Nanami. The two best friends always help with your studies whenever you need it. And, of course, you can’t forget about their roommate and your friend, Geto. The tall, raven-haired Biology major is always looking out for you and paying visits to study with Shoko. There was even a time he helped with a mouse situation in your dorm! Poor Utahime that day – saw the rodent when she came out of the shower.

However, you’re not exactly thrilled to see everyone after coming back. You throwing a middle finger at someone on the opposite side of the pathway should be evidence of such. “Oh, go jump off a cliff, Gojo!”

“Hah! I wouldn’t give you the satisfaction!” Satoru Gojo was the direct roommate of Suguru Geto, best friend of his and Shoko, and was the star player of the campus basketball team. But most of all, he’s the kid you despise with every fiber of your being. “I’d be more entertained with you slipping on some ice.”

“Oh, you wish! I saw you slip on some ice yesterday on your way to Professor Yaga’s class.” You puff your chest with pride when you see the white-haired guy suck his teeth in annoyance. “Made my whole day, what a fucking moron. How about slowing down next time? You were late anyway!” 

Snowy brows furrow with a scoff. “God, you really are a perfect roommate for Utahime; the both of you are so tiny and angry at the world around you for no reason.” 

Utahime, standing beside you during this yelling competition, decides to chip in after that remark. She almost popped a vein, “WHAT THE HELL DID YOU SAY, SATORU!?” 

“You heard me!” He barks a laugh at the two of you, turning around to go on his way. “Heard it’s gonna snow later tonight. Be sure to find a nice, big, puffy jacket and some boots so the storm doesn’t sweep you away, Y/n~.”

“I’ll be sure to shove an icicle up your ass before that, you fucker!” You turn on your heel and stomp your way out of the scene, Utahime following your move. “Hmph! Hate his ass so much…”

“Tch, right there with you.” Your roommate sighs heavily to exude the aggression. “But damn, the way you two go at it is worse than mine.” 

She is not wrong; it’s true – everyone within the campus grounds knows how much you and Gojo can’t stand each other. It’s no secret; at least you two make that apparent everywhere you go. This little feud between you started freshman year with you two in the same first-year engagement program. Tiny disagreements turned into narrowed glares, which then pivoted into prominent arguments, and now here we are. 

You hoped that freshman year would be the last you’d ever see of that snow-haired prude. Unfortunately, you were wrong. The year after, you were unhappy to discover he’s best buds and roomies with Geto. And what’s worse is that you were ill-fated to share a class with him every semester — especially this one with Professor Naga for Contemporary Issues. Is this the universe’s way of punishing you for something? For what!?? 

You’ve been a good kid, doing what you can and getting the grades that brought you merit and accolades. So, you don’t get how this one guy with his stupid round sunglasses is getting under your skin. So fucking annoying…

You hate him. You hate everything about him. From the way he immediately gives you a smug look when you walk into the room and take your seat right in front of him. The way he surprises you from behind because he finds your reactions amusing. The way he relentlessly calls your name to get your attention when you’re obviously ignoring him, even when he doesn’t need you for something. 

It all makes you heated. You hate Satoru Gojo. I hate him so much!

“…hear me?…Y/n?”

You blink, realizing you were too deep in thought for your ears to pick up Utahime calling out for you. “Hmm? What’s up?”

She pulls out the keys to the dorm from her coat. “So? You coming along?”

Huh? “Where are you going?”

“To Haibara’s get-together?”

Oh, hell no! “No, Uta. I think I’ll stay here.”

The dark-haired girl watches you walk past her when she opens the door. “Why?? It’s the first Friday night of the semester; it’s not gonna be a big party or anything. Just close friends.”

“What are we talking about?” Shoko chimes in after leaving the bathroom, brushing her teeth with sleepy eyes. “Haibara’s thing tonight?”

Utahime nods hurriedly at the drowsy nursing student. “I’m trying to convince Y/n to come!”

The brunette shrugs at the comment, following you two to your room. “Well, it’s not like I’m going either.” She snickers when the eldest dark-haired roommate turns to her with a hurt expression. “Sorry. I already have notes I need to get behind on. You can tell the guys I said hi, though.” 

Another sigh leaves Utahime as she puts her bag on her desk. “…Mei Meiiiii,”

“Yesss~?” The fourth roommate calls out from the hallway. 

“Are you going?”

“Mmmm, not sure.” Mei Mei comes to the doorframe, her long silverish-blue hair done in pigtails with a green skin-care mask covering her face. “Got a meeting for my club to head to later. And even then, it might still be a while for me to join, depending on if people are hanging out afterward.” 

Now is when the Utahime whines to her hands before she turns back to you, sitting on your bed. “Y/n, please, come with me!”

You don’t give in to her cries. “No, think I’ll stay and keep Shoko company.”

But she doesn’t give up. “Please! It’s just a small group of friends and maybe a few classmates Haibara’s familiar with. No biggie!”

“Small group of friends, huh?”

“Yes!”

“You know who else are his friends?” You lift a brow when she does the same. “His roommates: Nanami, Geto, and—“

“Gojo…” Utahime completes your sentence in defeat, understanding why your reluctance is present. 

“Sorry, Uta. Maybe next time.” 

Now, you’re not saying you’ve never been to the guys’ place before; they reside on the other side of campus where senior housing is (Nanami’s pick because he’s an RA). However, it’s the first Friday night of the semester. Meaning it’s the first free weekend for most students. And you’re going to ruin everyone’s fun by being in the same place as Gojo? Yeah, no thanks.

That is until Mei Mei says, “Actually, I heard from a friend that the basketball team are planning on going out somewhere tonight.”

Shoko adds on while taking out her toothbrush to appropriately speak to her friends. “Yeah, now that you mention it, Gojo told me he probably won’t be at the place in the first place. Something about meeting up with a group for one of his classes.”

All separate reasons from different accounts, yet that only fuels Utahime to beam out of her mini-depression and face you once more. “See? Gojo won’t be there by the time we get there! He’ll be busy with a group project – or whatever – and will hang with his sports buddies. So, you up for it now?” 

Your brows trench down. “I…I don’t know—“

If there’s one thing the oldest roommate is good at, it’s not giving up. And it’s because she bats her pretty brown eyes and gives you the most grandiose pleading puppy face she can. It’s the oldest manipulation tactic in the book, yet it works by making your heart cringe.

Of all things to be dragged into now, it was a party? The semester just started, and you haven’t even touched a single piece of reading yet. Is this a good idea? You can’t really go based on the perspective of your roommates because what’ll happen on the off-chance you do see Gojo? The thought of it is already headache-inducing.

Then again, it’s the first time since last semester that you’ll be able to see the other guys. You didn’t say goodbye to Geto and Haibara before break because they were swarmed with finals, and Nanami was gone the moment he found out all his exams were take-home. You’re not much for parties, to be quite honest. Regardless, it would be nice to catch up on the gang and see how they’re doing before we all revert to non-stress-free college life.

You release a sigh through your nostrils before making your decision begrudgingly. “...Don’t make me regret this.”

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

I regret this so fucking much…

Well, this night was going to be quite a drag. Why? Let’s go over the reasons, shall we?

The party that was supposedly at Haibara’s dorm? So, it turns out, there was a change of plans, and to be relocated somewhere else — like outside campus grounds. Screw walking, you and Utahime had to go by car with Geto to go to the party, following down the main street into this big, beautiful neighborhood and parking by a big house. Perfect for housing an event for many people to drink, dance, and vibe.

Oh yeah, that was another thing, too; the many that were attending this fucking party. Word got out about the get-together, so, of course, lots of people wanted to come and celebrate the first weekend. So, not only are you outside campus grounds, but now you’re forced to interact with a crowd rather than a small group of people. You practically have been to every corner of the place to disassociate with people you didn’t know. 

So, where are you now? Upstairs in one of the bedrooms, where the bass of the speakers downstairs can be heard. You’re not alone — sitting in a circle with Utahime, Geto, and a couple of other kids who’re present at your university. What’s happening in the room? Just a chill game of truth, drink, or seven minutes in heaven; either you answer truthfully to a question, drink to avoid it, or go to the closet and do what you want with the person who spun the bottle on you.

But, there was nothing chill about the game, and the players would agree to that notion apprehensively. Because you most definitely silently dreaded every second of this entire night. Why? How about asking the person across you that you’ve been glaring at since you opened the bedroom door and saw his face?

Apparently, as word got out about the party, the college basketball team heard about it and decided to come and celebrate. Meaning the whole team is at this party. Let’s say that again: the entire basketball team – all the players – are here to enjoy the party.

The person who stood across from you sat criss-cross with long, jean-covered legs, leaning with his hands behind him, a navy blue sweatshirt, and dark round shades that cover his eyes that you know are looking dead at you. And a smug grin that patronizes you to the core.

You peer to your night, giving Utahime the nastiest look you can. And the eldest could only meekly mumble an “I’m sorry…” with twiddled thumbs.

Satoru Gojo looked at you, and you frowned right back at him. The tense atmosphere between you two was enough to suffocate the other players. Some would try to break the tension by playing the game. But even then, it was still strenuous. One girl rolled the bottle on Geto, to which he picked “truth” and answered her question: “How did you and Gojo meet?”

Even though he didn’t pick the option, he’d take a small swig of his beer. “Satoru and I have been friends since middle school — same with my other bud, Shoko. We’ve been inseparable since, and now we’re here. He can be an asshole, though, so watch out.”

A guy spun the bottle on Utahime and asked, “Were you ever interested in Gojo?” The raven-haired girl clicked her teeth and took a chug, drinking the whole thing in one sig. 

“Hmph! I’d rather drink sweat from Professor Gakunaji’s crusty beard and eyebrows!” She’d admit after a burp.

“Ahaha! That’s a sight I’d like to see,” Gojo would chuckle at her insult, prompting a few around him to laugh. “Bet you’d get more satisfaction from it than being with me anyway.” 

The senior rolls her eyes before opening another bottle. “Fucking bastard…”

Another spin to the bottle after a couple comes out of the closet all close and giggly. This time, it lands on you. Some bubbly girl who had her eyes all up on Gojo, her nipple piercings able to be seen from her crop tee, was the one who spun it. She asks you, “Y/n, could you please tell me why you hate Satoru so much?”

You couldn’t fight the twitch of your eye. Of fucking course. You’re in no mood to drink, and you barely know this girl to think of being in the closet with her. You exhale through your nostrils, “….We’re friends, to an extent.”

“To an extent?” She asked more questions with a naive tone. “But Satoru's so nice, no?”

Oh, drop it, will you? And why are you referring to him by his first name like you know him? “We’re—“

“They mean that we’re kinda friends, kinda not.” Of course, nothing can be to yourself because the white-haired nuisance went ahead and answered your question. “They’re friends with my roomies, and my friends are their roomies. So, I guess that makes us friends by association. At least that’s the only way to see it since we nearly argued our heads off freshman year.”

You scoff with narrowed eyes, “By association, huh.” 

He quirks a brow up. “Mhmm.”

Good God, the more you two throw invisible daggers at each other, the more uncomfortable people feel being in this room. Oh, but don’t worry; the night gets even worse. Three turns later, it was your turn to spin the bottle. And – sit with me here – just guess who it lands on? Bingo! Satoru Gojo.

The hushed gasps that filled the room were telling; it was bound to happen, but no one thought it would happen. The star-crossed haters spun the bottle and landed on each other. And since Gojo doesn’t drink (and he finds the questions rather lackluster), he chooses the closet. The gasps were louder that time, and your blood began to boil.

The first time it happened was uneventful; it’s what you preferred. After the door closed, you told him, “Don’t even think about touching me.” It was just pure silence for the entire seven minutes. You sat on one side of the emptied closet while Gojo was on the other. There were the occasional sniffles of your nose and his loud yawns. But other than that, you two stayed at your respective sides of the closet. Seven minutes of no words, just keeping to yourself and watching the lava lamp in your corner be your light. 

You two survived the first set of seven minutes, not a scratch on either of you, to everyone’s thankful stars. Keywords: first set. Because why wouldn’t there be more? 

When it got to Gojo’s turn, he spun the bottle and got you! So, here you are, walking into the closet again with your notorious opp. You swore to God this had to be the universe’s way of toying with you as if the start of this semester wouldn’t be a handful to deal with already. 

You’re back on your side of the closet, groaning at your hands. It’s okay, Y/n, calm down. You can sit through another seven minutes. You got this! Don’t even act like he’s there…

And so you compose yourself, watching the heated, yellow wax of the purple lava lamp prompt up to the top to cool and sink back down. Six minutes…Five…Four—

“So, let’s say, hypothetically,” your eyelids closed shut for your eyes to roll freely. “I asked for a little something-—“

“I guess I should’ve added no talking, too. Thought that was rather self-explanatory to you.” You shut him down quickly. “And I thought I said don’t even think of touching me.”

“Well, you’re not in control of my brain,” you don’t have to turn your head to know that the fucker is looking at you. “Besides, I did say hypothetically.”

This motherfucker… ”Well, then, I’d, hypothetically, break every single one of your fingers and give them to Mei Mei so she can sell them to all your fangirls.”

“Hah! Nice to know you see me of high value.” He shifts his feet around from their crisscrossed position. “Bet you’d keep one of them.”

You scoff. “Oh, don’t flatter yourself! I’m annoyed just from not looking at you; what the fuck would I need your stupid finger for.” 

“Hmmm, I can think of many, like—“

“Do not finish that sentence, Gojo.” Your tone dialed lower; a warning. He notices it, bringing his hands up defensively. 

“Jeez, lighten up, Y/n.” He says while leaning against the back wall. “With an attitude like that, no other guy or gal in that room will ever want to be in a closet with you.” 

Oh, you don’t say, fuckface! “I barely want to be in this closet with you. Hell, I didn’t even want to be here! I only came for Utahime, assuming it would be a small party…How the hell did you even get here? I thought the basketball team was going out somewhere.“ 

“Awww, you spying on me, Y/n?” Oh, you hate his fucking snicker, shoving a middle finger in his direction. “We were supposed to be at some restaurant joint, but a few of the crew flunked out on us and said they’d go to some ‘big party,’ then everyone wanted to go, and now we’re here. You know I don’t like alcohol, but I just tagged along because Suguru was here. I didn’t know about you, though.” 

You bring your hands to your face to sigh in private. “We gotta stop meeting like this…It’s like I can never escape you.”

“…Is that a bad thing?” 

You open your mouth to refute, but no words leave….Huh?

That was…..odd. Why did he ask that question like that: you couldn’t detect a remnant of childish malice he’d been throwing at you back and forth. Even when you faced him, his face was straight ahead. But when you don’t answer, his left eye goes to his peripheral to glimpse at you.

What the…Is he being genuine right now? 

You gaze at him briefly before turning away, “I….I don’t know.” He hums to your response. “….Do you think so?”

Gojo shrugs. “Can’t say so either.” You hum back, and the silence takes over once again.

Okay, now things are even more awkward. You came into this closet with irritation, yet somehow, it vanished into thin air. It was the one thing that’s been constant throughout this evening. Now that it’s gone, you can only replay the moment from a few seconds ago in your head. 

Is it a bad thing? Why would he ask that? Of course, it’s a bad thing! Has he forgotten how much hostility we have for each other? Jesus Christ….Wait, why did he say he didn’t know either? What does that even mean!!??

“You look nice.” 

You—……I’m sorry, what???

The way you snapped your head back to him, you could’ve sworn you heard your neck crack. Holy fuck, why the hell was he looking at you right now? His round glasses shine from the lava lamp, so you can’t see his eyes.

“Wh….What?” It was cold; the weather app said it would snow later tonight. Therefore, the temperatures and winds were unforgiving after sunset. So you took it upon yourself to dress warmly. It was all simple, just a white, long-sleeved halter blouse that matched your black skirt – it was the only nice thing you had outside of regular leggings. And you covered your legs with black pantyhoses but decorated with cute white knitted leg warmers. 

He repeated in a singing tune. “You look nice.”

When it came to the white-haired guy in this closet with you, there were rare moments where you felt as though you were shocked by him. This was beyond astounding, the comment continuing to ring throughout your ears.

You blinked at him before averting your eyes down to your hands, trying to distract the increase of heat on your cheeks by intertwining your fingers together. “….Thank you, Gojo.”

“Yeah, no problem,” he’d shrug again, chuckling to himself before adding on. “It’s way better than your other outfits. Baggy old sweatshirts, bags under your eyes even if you’re wearing glasses, sweatpants with stains. You look like a homeless librarian.”

Annnnnd just like that, with the drop of your quivering lip, all the warm feelings you felt for a minute evaporated in seconds. The anger returned with the twitch of a brow. “…Tch, gee, thanks. I can’t say the same for you.” 

“Oh, you know you look cute when you’re jealous~.”

You almost busted a nerve. Who the hell are you calling, cute? “As if. From the sound of it, you must be jealous of me; who told you to be looking and criticizing what I wear? Must be rough not being able to wear comfortable clothes all the time, huh?”

“Shut the hell up,” he finally snaps, and you stick your tongue out in victory.

“No, I’ll keep going! I’m sorry, Mr. Perfect, but not everyone wants to put on their best outfits to impress you, not like your fangirls who get their best bras to push up their breasts for you to notice.”

“Huh, you lookin’ at other girls' boobies? Wow, Y/n, never took you as a pervert.” He laughs at your stare of pure anger. “You are jealous, huh? That I’m talking at other girls and not you? Awww, don’t be so selfish; there’s plenty of me to go around!” 

You snarl at him. “Ugh, you’re so gross! I don’t want anything to deal with you. So all those girls can have you and rip you to shreds for all I care. Let them know how much of a big fucking baby the wonderful, amazing Satoru Gojo is when he drops his ice cream on the floor and cries on Geto’s shoulders. Or that you’re such a lightweight that you accidentally vomited in Nanami’s cup one time, which he threw at you...Or maybe I should tell them.”

His brows furrow, “You wouldn’t dare.”

“I would, and then some.” You sneer. “In fact, I’ll go downstairs, grab that red punch, and spill it right on you in front of that girl next to you. I’ll make your hair look like strawberry shaved ice.” 

He leans his cheek against his fist with a huff. “I take it back; you don’t look nice at all. So uncute.”

You gasped with trenched brows. “Excuse me!?”

“You heard me, you’re uncute!” Yup, today was the day: you’re going to choke the hell out of this motherfucker. “I feel bad for any guy who'd wound up in this closet with you, dealing with such a little devil.” 

“You’re one to talk, dickhead! I’d much rather be stuck in this closet with anyone else — even Geto!”

“Taah, as if! I bet you never even had your first kiss with such an attitude like that.”

Again, you open your mouth to say something, yet words evade you at that very moment. And Gojo catches it quickly. Because his brows raise, lifting his head back up, eyes scanning your face. 

Oh fuck.

“...”

Don’t.

“….Y/n,”

Don’t say it.

“You never had your first ki—“

BEEP!! BEEP!! BEEP!!

He couldn’t finish that sentence, thank God, because the phone alarm from the outside rang. Seven minutes are up — this session is up, so you quickly stood up and opened the closet door. 

With swift feet, you sit back next to Utahime, your eyes downcast to the bottle, avoiding Gojo’s feet coming around and taking his spot across from you. Your roommate perks at your silence, “You okay, Y/n?”

A nod is offered to her, “Yeah, I’m fine.” No, you weren’t. Your heart was pounding like crazy, your skin dropping in color. And you can feel the eyeballs from across boring into your being. “Let’s just keep playing.”

And so the game carried on from Gojo’s turn. Your eyes could only ever look at the bottle, hoping it would never land on you from there on out. But that would be the easy way out, and – as life is – nothing goes your way when you want it to be.

Because when it gets to your turn, you watch with patient eyes as the glass spins on the cold hardwood floor. One spin goes by, and another swings around. Finally, it stops, the neck of the bottle pointing vertically from you, and your whole figure washes in apprehension with the hushed sounds of exclamation of the other people in the room. 

Alas, the bottle pointed to Gojo. It was inevitable – you couldn’t avoid his presence since the last session anymore. You look at him, your brows scrunched with mercy. But he points to the closet with his chin, and you follow his lead to the small space with anxiousness at every step. 

Back to your respective stations in the closet. You can only use the mesmerizing wax of the lava lamp as a sort of comfort – a distraction for your nerves that are at an all-time high. Why were you so nervous? All he did was ask if you ever had your first kiss taken.

Yeah, that’s the problem! Why did he have to know that!? Ughhhh, I should’ve just lied or something…Now what? Will he make fun of me for not having my first kiss taken yet? What is this, middle school!?? The thoughts in your head were a battle to deal with, one personal worry after another.

But all that washes away when the silver-haired guy finally breaks the quiet after a minute. “…Wanna kiss me?”

It felt like your heart dropped at that abrupt question; the warm circulation coursing through your body transitioned to an ice-cold sensation. Your breathing stops, and your eyes shoot wide at the person you’re with. “….Wha….What did you say?”

He doesn’t hesitate at your request. “Wanna kiss?”

Have….Have you lost—“your mind!? Why would you ask me that??” You whisper yelled at him so the people outside don’t hear you.

He shrugs nonchalantly. “Why not?”

Why not?!? “Gojo, you can’t be serious. Just because I never had my first kiss doesn’t mean I need it to happen this instant! Are you that much of a horndog that you’d ask—“

“Let me explain, alright!?” He yells in whispers back with a hand raised to stop your rambling, and you hold your tongue. “Listen, I’m not asking to be a dick, okay? I just thought that…ya know, being in a place full of strangers, someone’s bound to be in this closet with you and ask you for a kiss.”

Your face screws to a magnificent expression of confusion you could ever contour. “Why are you concerned about who I kiss? It’s not like I’d agree or—“

“Yeah, but like, what if they did, huh?” His sky-blue eyes peek from above his sunglasses. The sharpness they carried told you he was serious about this — like he was serious about you. That…That was so off of him. “What if some weirdo forces themselves on you, and me and Suguru can’t help you in time, huh? I can think of two guys in this room who’d probably do that.” 

It takes a few seconds for you to soak in his words, “….So? What are you getting at?” He opens his mouth but stops from saying something, his pointer finger up but back to a fist. You could tell; whatever he was thinking had him in mental turbulence.

He releases a deep sigh before saying, “I’m just…I’m saying, wouldn’t it be better to have your first kiss with someone you know, at least?”

You couldn’t believe he was saying such things to you. “And…you think you’re the one I should….kiss?”

“….I don’t hear a no.” 

You wanted to refute that statement — challenge him or prove him wrong! You looked at his face, examining every feature to find an indication that whatever he was saying was just a way to get under your skin. He loves to poke fun at you, so why wouldn’t he use this as a perfect opportunity?

However, you couldn’t find anything. His eyes were sincere, stationed right back on yours. You saw his Adam’s apple move from a gulp, letting you know that he was a little nervous, too. And your gaze drifted to his mouth, the thought of his lips being on yours staining your brain for the first time. It was scary to think about, your heart racing to no end. 

“Y/n,” he said your name so quietly that you almost missed it. “Do you trust me?”

What an odd question to ask in this awkward atmosphere. Do you trust Satoru Gojo, the boy you would smack with a given chance? He’s undoubtedly the most annoying person you’ve ever bumped into — a thorn in your side since freshman year. He is such a tactless fool, doing and saying whatever he thinks comes to mind, picking on you like you were a child, and not taking you seriously when you wanted him to. You could list many things that you saw wrong with this guy.

Yet, he wasn’t the worst. There hasn’t been an instance where you felt uncomfortable around him, only annoyance. He was friends with Geto and Shoko; that alone should be enough to tell you he’s someone worth depending on. And even when you two would be tasked to do something together, you’d surely click your tongue and bicker until the cows came home. But at the end of the day, you still knew how to work with one another and get the job done.

In all things considered, Satoru Gojo was an irritant. Even so, he was an irritant you could depend on — to trust. 

Breathing was a hard thing to do, taking in air and exhaling excruciatingly slow. You chew on your bottom lip and give him a curt nod. “I…I trust you, Gojo.”

He lets your answer sink in for a bit before he moves his position, his back to the wall while facing you, legs straight down to the ground. He pats on a thigh, “C’mere.”

Hesitance was there for a split second, but you followed his command and quietly maneuvered your way toward his direction, situating on top of his legs. Of course, you were anxious as hell; your ears and cheeks shared a warmth unbearable to host. Your figure being so close to his, you had to be dreaming. 

But you weren’t. The hands he placed on your waist prove so, earning a gasp to leave you. His voice is low for just the two of you to hear. “Put your hands on my shoulders…Ya scared?” A slow nod is what you give him, and he chuckles lightly. “It’s okay. Try closing your eyes for me. Relax, I’m not gonna do anything dumb.”

He only said that because of that look you gave him. He is going to do something to you — just nothing too rash. 

“Trust me, pretty.”

Pretty? Yes, he just called you pretty. You were used to him calling you dumb names to get you riled up, yet none nearly sweet and fitting the mood like this one. It made your heart skip a beat.

With that, you held back reluctance when closing your eyelids. It made you a little uneasy, unable to see him in front of you, what he was doing, what he looked like while having you on him like this.

Suddenly, you squeak when something softly presses down to your clavicle. It was his lips. 

He snickers, “Ya know, I gotta admit.” He brings his mouth up your neck with kisses, your breath shaking with every peck, and your hands clinging onto his sweatshirt. “It’s kinda nice seeing you be all shy on top of me like this.”

“Go..jo...” you flinch at his soft kiss on your forehead, his hands rubbing your sides.

“Don’t do that. Call me by my first name.” You can feel him bringing a hand to your cheek, caressing your bottom lip gently with his thumb. “I know you know it. I wanna hear it with your voice.”

Holy fuck, this got intense way too fast. He brings his nose close to yours, and you shiver at the contact. It only means he’s mere centimeters away. Thank God your eyes were closed now because you swear you’d turn to stone if you snuck a peek.

“S..Sa…Toru—Mmmph!?“

And there it was, the inexorable. Gojo’s lips fleshed with yours softly, nothing too explicit or unpleasant for you. It was a simple kiss, yet it felt so foreign to you. Your first kiss had been with Satoru Gojo. What a momentous day.

It lasted a few seconds, your body stiff and hands balled to fists nonetheless. He removes from you with a soft noise between your lips, the heat from his face taken with him now that you have space to breathe. You open your eyes for him.

“There ya go,” he says with a small smile, stroking your cheek with his thumb while his forefinger plays with your earlobe. “Was it so bad?”You huffed, shaking your head no. Gojo hums, the hand on your waist gripping your flesh faintly. “….Can I kiss you again?”

Your breath hitched. It was a tiny request. One more wouldn’t hurt, right? You nod, closing your eyes again and awaiting his move.

Gojo leans in and claims your lips again, a soft hum from him when his face is back on yours. The next one was a little more risqué than the last, your bottom lip being taken by his playfully. The third kiss was where the mood dialed to a more wanton plane, him nibbling on your lip to allow him access. It’s here that Gojo can’t contain the reins, removing his glasses, “Come here, cutie.”

And you can’t help yourself either, succumbing to these smooches while wrapping your arms around his neck. Gojo’s no better, snaking his hand to the back of your neck and his other sneaking down to your butt.

You break the kiss to inquire, “Hahhh—…you pervert,” your eyes half-lidded. 

He puffs a laugh, “Whaaat? I thought you’d like me to be touchy.”

You don’t admit anything to him, just slamming your face to his again. You decided to be a little adventurous and lick his lips. Gojo senses the initiative and takes your tongue to suck on. The whimper you let out was too cute, egging him on to suck and tease the muscle more. 

It makes you dwell in the moment more, your limbs no longer stiff, yet your hips subtly move voluntarily. The friction from your groin rubbing on his jean-covered thigh was strangely enticing, your restraint becoming lesser the more you moved. And it gets worse after both Gojo’s hands creep into your skirt and tease your ass with squeezes.

“Ahhh, mmmm, Satoru..” you wailed. 

“Relax, baby,” there it goes again, another cute pet name to call you. He really knew how to get you going. “Let me take care of you….Mmmm”

He shoves his tongue into your mouth – not too forceful to scare you, but enough to get that he is impatient. You moan to his mouth, a hand grabbing tuffs of his snowy hair. 

His nose is pressed to your cheek like yours, and it’s getting harder to breathe now that things are getting intimate. But it all felt good, and the mood was just right. You rub your chasm onto his leg, which he lifts just a bit to make grazing your groin a little better. And God, the way his hands groped your butt, it turned you on even more. 

Ohh fuck, tongues swirl around each other, your head begins to pound, and your ears ring from the heat on your face.. Oh, God, you could feel a hand come up to the top of your stocking, teasing its way down your skin and to the hem of your underwear. Please, please—

BEEP!! BEEP!! BEEP!!

Even so, everything freezes in time, and both you and Gojo stop whatever you’re doing. Lips still on lips, your ass on his lap, and his middle and forefinger barely grazing the crack of your ass. It’s here that everything hits you all at once: you are not the only one here — you’re not even in your room! You’re still at the party you were dragged into, in some stranger’s bedroom closet, smooching with your supposed most hated person. 

You immediately withdraw from him, Gojo removing his hands from you to put up defensively. Your hands rush to cover your lips, which are wet from spit. A thousand thoughts run around your head. Holy shit, what the hell was I doing!? Did I really just kiss Gojo? Satoru Gojo!? What was I thinking!!?

And Gojo didn’t say anything, only gauging your reaction to see what goes from here. The light from the lava lamp behind you is sheltered, your silhouette drawn to cover the guy in front of you. 

I need to leave. That’s your final thought, taking an immediate stand and storming out of the closet. Utahime noticed you make a beeline to the door, and the roommate pursues right behind you down the stairs. She moves past drunk dudes to grab your wrist, “Y/n! What’s wrong – are you okay?”

It’s time to lie. “Yeah, I’m okay. Just tired, you know.” You lead her to the broom closet where all the initial guests’ jackets were stored. You grab for yours and put it on, “I think I’m just gonna call an Uber and head back to campus before the snowfall.” 

Her face contorts to an expression of worry. “Are you sure? I’ll come with you; this place bugs any—“

“No, no. You don’t have to worry, Uta.” You place a hand on her shoulder before she can move another step. 

“When you say it like that, I can’t help but worry.”

Your lips twinge to a smile to display faux comfort. “It’s okay, really. You don’t have to ruin your fun for me. Besides, I saw some underclassmen waiting to speak with you all night somewhere down here.”

Utahime doesn’t buy it, and you knew she doesn’t. But thankfully, she doesn’t try to fight with you and gives you the okay. She watches you open the door before leaving, “Make sure you call or text me when you get to our dorm!”

It made you laugh; the girl can be such an older sister. “Don’t worry, Shoko’s still there, remember? Cya later, have fun!”

“Bye, be careful!” A final warning to you before the roommate closes the door for you.

You spoke too soon. Now outside, snow was already falling to the ground, probably a few minutes earlier since it wasn’t sticking to the ground yet. The little cold flakes touching the skin of your face were almost remedial, evening out the warmth of your cheeks.

You use this moment to recuperate from what transpired in that house. It was so out of the ordinary and was completely weirding you out, but not in a terrible way. It was more like odd-ish, strange, downright out of the norm. The more you think about it, visiting back to the senses of your hands in his hair, his slender fingers teasing the flesh of your butt, and the pillowy sensation of his lips glued to yours while whispering sweet things…..

….Nope, the cold was not helping at all. There goes the warmness creeping back on your cheeks and ears. Let me hurry and get the fuck out of here, grabbing for your phone and unlocking it to find the Uber app.

“Y/n!”

But before your thumb could press on the application, you instinctively turned around to see the door was open again. And the person who called out to you had your breath come to a complete stop.

Gojo closed the door behind him, coming down the driveway while hurriedly putting on his grey Chesterfield coat. “Fuuuuuck, it got cold quick!”

“G–Gojo!” You stuttered when out by the time he could make it to you. “What’s up? What are you—“

“I saw you weren’t in the bedroom, and Suguru told me you headed downstairs. You could’ve told me you were leaving; that fox with bangs was giving me an earful,” he stuffs his hands in his pockets and then curses. “Fuck, I should’ve checked for my gloves before I left….Anyway, where are you heading off to?” 

You were a little taken aback. “Uhhh, back to the dorms?”

“Great!” He wraps an arm around your shoulders and walks with you down the road. “My car’s over there; let’s hurry before we freeze to death.”

Huh? “Hurry where??”

“Huh? We’re going back to campus, no?”

We!? “Together!?”

“Yeah?”

“Gojo, please!” You promptly removed yourself away from Gojo, standing in front of him. “Why are you doing this? Why are you being all nice now?”

He shrugged “Ehhhh? Are friends not supposed to give friends rides back home?”

“No, not us! We aren’t friends; we’re friends to an extent, remember!?”

“Ahhh, stop being a baby. You act as if you’ve never been in my car before.” You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. Yeah, but not when I’m alone with you, dummy! “C’mon, it’s gonna get colder with this snow.”

“Okay, just—Stop!” Your hands go up to prevent him from getting any closer to you. He stops, the fallen flakes camouflaging with his hair. “Gojo….you understand what just happened back there, right?”

He doesn’t say anything, only a single nod. 

“So, you know that my mind is going at like a hundred miles per hour right now.”

“….Yeah.”

“Okay….So, just please…I need a minute.” Your face goes to your feet to divert your thoughts elsewhere because you don’t know if you could handle looking at the white-haired man for a mere second.

Gojo looks at you mumble to yourself, avoiding him. He releases a deep sigh, walking towards you and lifting a side of his coat to shield you two from the windows of the house party. “…You’re doing it again.”

His shoes come to your direct line of sight, your heart pounding even more. “…Doing what?”

“The thing where you push people out whenever you feel overwhelmed.” You flinch when his finger grazes the back of your palm. “Don’t do that, not right now. I want you to talk to me.”

What is there to talk about? You could’ve said that to throw him off — be avoidant to this whole conversation. But it’s futile after he brings your chin up to face him. 

“Did I make you uncomfortable back there?”

“….No.” 

“Then what’s wrong?”

“I….I don’t know.” Honestly, you did not know. Your mind had too much to go through; so many memories and phrases from moments ago hit you all at once. You’re fighting the urge to tremble — not from the cold, but from overstimulation of brain power and senses.

His eyes are still fixed on you, noting you chewing on your lip. “Come with me.” The sudden revelation quirked your eyebrows up. “Whatever’s going on with you is obviously because of me. So, I’d feel like a dick if I just let you leave because of me. Plus, there’s no way you’re getting an Uber from here. Shit is like $20, I checked.”

“Gojo, I—“ he silences you with a kiss on your forehead. The feel of his lips on your skin again almost made you shut down.

“Sorry,” he whispered while placing his forehead on yours. You never really noticed how tall he was until he did that, your heart skipping again. “I’ll make it up to you. Promise.”

Picture it: you are out in the cold with Gojo, snow falling down silently onto your figures, him bringing his coat up to shield you from the world. If you were naive enough, you’d mistake this as a scene from a fairy tale. And how he was looking at you, too; his sunglasses were back on, but you could make out the blue orbs that lingered on yours. It’s as if he didn’t want to look at anything else. Just you and only you. 

You don’t know where the hell this side of confidence came from, but you lifted your hands to cup his cheeks and bring him in for another kiss. Cold lips instantaneously warm up at each other’s contact, Gojo leaning into your touch more. 

Snow continues to fall and stick, and the music from the house can still be heard from the outside. Yet it doesn’t bother you because it all drowns out in this moment you feel with him. Whatever these feelings you are experiencing are something new — scary, but new. And for some reason, it felt right to have them for him.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

A sheet of white cascades over the university grasses, students’ cars topped with sprinkles of snowflakes, and the lampposts emit a glow that fits the dark, cloudy weather. 

You were back on campus but not in your dorm where you told Utahime you’d be. You did text her when you arrived, so she doesn’t have to worry too much for you. In turn, she texted back that something had come up and is going to another event with Haibara and some other friends. She said she wouldn’t be back until tomorrow morning; it sounds like she’s having a good time. 

The same thing goes for Geto, only that the raven-haired boy called Gojo to say he’d be home in the morning because he was getting “private” with someone he met at the party. “Will be back in the morning. Don’t cause a fire alarm like last time, you dork." 

Haibara is supposedly with your roommate, meaning he won’t be back until the morning, either. The only person left to account for would be Nanami, who is currently away for the weekend because he had to visit home to grab last-minute things from break. 

That leaves only you inside their apartment – in Gojo’s room on top of his bed with your top and bra down on the carpeted floor, along with Gojo’s sweatshirt and jeans. His bed is like any other twin bed for college dorms, a little impossible to move around for two people and limited positions. Nonetheless, to start things off slow, you lie comfortably on his bed with your head to his pillow as he crawls above you and works from above.

Gojo is straddled on top of you, kissing your lips and sucking on your tongue, evoking the prettiest wails he’s ever heard. Your hands find purchase on his shoulders while his are busy roaming your body.

The kiss is broken when you gasp at the contact of his pinkie grazing a nipple on your breast. “Ahhnn, Satoru, don’t touch…Mmmph!”

“Hmmm, what, gorgeous?” He places his lips from your chin down to your neck, sucking on your skin and leaving ticklish nibbles. “Don’t touch what?”

“M–My ni—Ohhoo!” He gives the hardened bud a tweeze, and your cry results from the sudden action. 

He chuckles, “So cute.” Kisses travel down from your collarbone, your breasts, and finally, your other unattended nipple. A whimper leaves your lips at the wet sensation of his tongue swirling around the sensitive nob, and you shriek when he takes it into his mouth. The frequent grazes of his teeth and the tongue pushing your nipple to the roof of his mouth — it all felt surreal.

Yet, it wasn’t as surreal as the next thing he was about to do. Sucking on your tit was the perfect distraction for him to sneak a hand down into your pantyhose, sinking it to the lower regions of your underwear. You gasp at the feeling of a digit pressing on the wet spot of your underwear.

“W–Mmmph…’toru, wait…” you pat him on his shoulder to get his attention, yet he doesn’t lift from your breast yet. “Don’t—Stop, it’s embarrassing—Khhmm!“ Shivers shoot up your spine after Gojo uses his middle and forefinger to go in between your panty-covered folds. Your wetness sticks onto him the more he rubs. 

Gojo lets go of your nipple with one last suck, the cool air chilling the wet bud. “Awww, is my lil’ princess shy?” You could only answer in pants and puffs, his blue eyes surveying your entire body laid out for him. “Heh, shit, you look so good...Hmm? Hey, you got a tear down here.”

“Huh?” You follow his eyes down to your tights, bringing your attention to a worn-down incision where Gojo’s hand is between the material and your underwear. It must’ve been from when I was grinding on him earlier today…

The snow-haired boy removes his hand from inside your tights and uses both to make the rip bigger. Your eyes shot wide, “Wha—What are you doing?”

“Making it easier to see your pussy.” He continues to tear a hole big enough for the damp spot of your pussy to be prevalent. 

Your face dials up in warmth at the vulgar word. “You could’ve just taken them off, you idiot…”

“Pssh, that’s no fun. Besides,” Gojo uses a thumb to remove the panty barrier to reveal what he’s wanted to see the moment you crawled up on his bed. Your bare cunt, wet substance glistening the pretty folds of your labia. He bites his lip. “I’ve been dying to see this pretty thing you’ve been hiding from me.”

Your hands rush to cover up your vagina, “D-Don’t say such embarrassing things, Gojo!”

“Hey, hey, let me see it,” his hands are used to pull yours aside, your slit throbbing from his gaze without your control. “And what did I say about calling me by my last name?”

It was a force of habit, dummy. “...Just be gentle, okay, Satoru?”

He beams a smile at you, the dimples on his cheek prevalent with his childish manner. “I will, princess! Now, what’s goin’ on here…” 

He ditches his head down to your chasm, giving the inviting genitalia a slow lick up to your clitoris. You bucked your hips in shock, jerking at the sudden intrusion of his tongue situating between your slit. He uses his hands to keep your legs still while he sucks and teases your vagina.

You grab for his hair, “—Khhaa!! Ohhh, ohhfuckkk, Satoru, no—Ohhh!!” Your eyes screw shut, mouth open to let your cries fly out. 

It only pushes Gojo to keep going, his tongue ravaging your folds as if he’s going to lick you clean. And when he sucks on clit? Holy fuck, you could’ve sworn your soul left your body right there and then.

“Satoruuu!! Ohhhshit, ohhhh…Mmmph,” the noises that come from the commotion below of Gojo’s tongue lapping and slurping your essence were so pornographic to the ears as if they’d melt on the spot. “Oh, God, I’m gonna cum, I think I’m gonna…Nnmmph!”

Gojo hears you; that’s why he removes his mouth from your clit before you can experience your orgasm. You throw an unsatisfied whine at him, a shit-eating grin apparent on his face. “Sorry, cutie. But I wanna have a feel for you first.” He straightens his posture and spreads your legs for him. You follow his hands that land at the hem of his boxer briefs, where a tent protrudes until his erection is sprung out with one fell swoop.

The erect limb you gawked at was definitely something you weren’t mentally prepared enough to see. Your eyes take in every single detail you can: from his pink tip, where precum exudes from the urethra down to the underside of his cock, to the long body curved slightly to the left. A whole living a breathing dick — and it’s Gojo’s dick, of all things. It was oddly pretty, you had to admit. 

“Ya ready?” You snap back to reality when Gojo calls out to you as he scoots forward to you after putting the condom on, the cockhead aligning with your labia. You hold your breath at the proximity, “Listen to me, Y/n. Since this is your first time, I need you to take deep breaths and try to relax for me. Think you can do that for me?” You sigh through your nostrils, but you nod. “Heh, good. Now stay still, and let me know if it hurts, okay, princess?”

He lightly pushes his glans to your labia, swirling it around to warm you up before kissing the entrance of your vagina. He begins to propel into you, and you begin to brace yourself for the pain that accompanies his insertion. You grab the pillowcase, your teeth clinging to your bottom lip as tears well up. But you remind yourself to breathe, drawing out as much of an exhale for Gojo to shove the tip in.

And when it does get in, you release the loudest gasp you’ve ever expressed that night! Your body froze stiffly as Gojo plunged more of his length into you; the curve scraping your side caused such an exhilarating spike in your nerves that your walls immediately began clenching around him. 

Oh fuck, It’s coming, I’m gon— “Ahhhh!”

And just like that, your orgasm that was avoided before came back in seconds., the walls of your slit fluttering on Gojo’s cock like crazy, electric shocks climbing up to your head and pulling you in for a haze.

The sudden contraction of you makes Gojo hiss, “—Fuuuck, you’re gripping me like crazy…! Damn, you feel so fucking good…” He continues to push himself onto you until the base rises your southern lips and grinds his pelvis, which only fuels your screams even more with the overstimulation. “—Khhh! D-Damn…did you cum, baby?”

You can’t even form a proper sentence, your lower half feeling too full to speak, and your figure trembling from the crescendo. 

Your expression has Gojo bend down to laugh. “Never had that happened before. Heh, glad I could make you cum for the first time. Congrats, pretty…” Pillowy lips claim yours again, taking your whines and whimpers as he roughly grinds his hips to you.

Gojo begins moving his hips at a slow pace, letting you adjust to his size and shape. However, the peak has made your entire lower body dial-up in sensitivity, your back arching to him every time your clit is barely touched. Tears have long fallen since he successfully entered inside you.

Jesus, the fucking curve of his shaft was so fucking dangerous! Not only was the feeling of his veins coming to and fro with your inner walls had you twitching, but the way the tip of his cock was scratching and poking every spot that had you humming was so unfair. Especially now, when he changes the rhythm to a faster cadence, you’re bound to come again! 

“Ohooo, ahahhh, Sa-‘toru…! Ughhh, Jesus, it feels so….Hooohhh!!” Your words slurred in between kisses, almost choking on your tongue with the slap of his balls hitting your taint. 

“Yeah, baby…—Ohhh, shit, shit, shiiiit…!” You feel so good to Gojo; he can’t help but slam onto you with all his might. Your nails were causing eclipses on the skin of his shoulders. He didn’t mind; he knew it was because you were feeling good, too. “Hnngh…How’re you feelin’, Y/n? Hmm?”

“—Eeshh!! I–I…don’t know…” Your brain was too mushy to think adequately, too distracted by what was between your legs.

But Gojo wasn’t buying that mess. “Ohoho, I think you do know, sweetie.” The tall silver-haired boy creeps a hand down to your clit to give it a pinch. You scream, your legs wrapping around his hips involuntarily. “How’re you feeling?”

“—Fuuuhucck!! It feels good,” There, you finally said it. “It feels soo good…Hic–pleaseeee, make me feel good, ‘toruuuu!!”

He puts his forehead to yours before kissing it. “God, you’re so fucking, cute…” 

Gojo increases his tempo to an erratic fashion, your howls bouncing off the walls with every plunge of his dick inside you. Your gummy walls clamp onto him while his fingers swipe around your clitoris, and more tears strike down your wet cheeks. 

The familiar tingling sensation from before begins to climb up. Oh, God, it’s happening again. “Ahhooo—OhmyfuckingGooood!! I’m gonna cum again, I’m gonna cummm…! Aiiishh, ahhhhh!!”

And there it goes, your second crescendo hitting you like a wall. Your walls twitch around Gojo’s length again, prompting the man above you to impetuously thrust in a harsh motion, evoking more choked sobs from your puffy lips. And when he dwells into a finish of his own, you can feel his limb pulsate along with your contractions withering away.

The two of you heave and pant close to each other before Gojo slumps his body on your nude figure, allowing him to rest while he pumps his load into your stimulated cunt. The sheets beneath you stick to your sweaty skin, the air of Gojo’s huffs tickling your neck. 

When you feel your body subsided from the excitement, you two turn to each other. Noses touching each other, eyes locked into each other’s stares. 

“….So,” he’s the first to speak in a whisper. “…What does this make us?”

His eyes were so alluring to look at, like looking at the most beautiful azure gems in your adjacency. “…I’ll punch you if you say I’m your girlfriend.”

That has him chuckling in shaky breathes. “Fair enough, but it’d be dumb if we didn't talk after this.”

A curt nod in agreement, “…Is there a thing called frenemies-with-benefits?”

“Pfft, I don’t know, but why not? I wouldn’t mind.” Gojo then decides to get up and finally remove himself from you, slowly taking out his cock with the condom. The bed creaks when he leaves to remove the plastic and wrap it to discard it. “You okay?”

You ponder for a few seconds before coming to an honest answer. “I think so…My pantyhose isn’t fine, though, you fiend.” 

He flashes another smile at you, his dimples taking your heart away. “Yeah, yeah, sorry about that. I’ll get you another pair.”

“You better.” 

BZZZT!! BZZZT!! BZZZT!!

Before you could get off the bed, a vibration came from Gojo’s dresser top. It was his phone, the caller ID reading as “punk-boy bangy wannabe” 

You blink and give the phone to Gojo after he puts his sweatshirt back on. With raised brows, he says, “It’s Suguru?” His thumb presses the green button before bringing the device to his ear while he puts his limp dick back in his boxers. “Yo. Wassup?”

“Okay, good, you picked up. I’m getting in the elevator right now to grab something from the room real quick. Open the door for me, will ya?”

The white-haired roommate couldn’t express his shock in time because Geto ended the call before he could have the chance. He turns to you slowly, and you can tell whatever he’s going to say isn’t good based on that dumb look on his face. “Suguru's coming up…now.”

Panic spiked up as it rightfully should. You were still braless and topless, for Christ’s sake! And wearing torn tights!? Something you did not want Geto to see in the likes of his and Gojo’s room. “W–What should I do?!”

Gojp quickly scans the room for a plan, immediately pointing to a door to his right. “Hide in my closet!” He hurries to grab the door open. “Quick, grab your clothes and get in here!”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake…!” You grab for everything in your direct line of sight, making a straight beeline to the closet when you’ve got everything. “Don’t forget my shoes at the front; just quickly hide them somewhere!”

“Okay, okay—“

“I’m serious, Gojo! Do not do anything stupid!”

“I heard you, jeez.” He watches you move around the closet, moving his shoes to one side while trying to hide behind one of his suits. Jesus, you looked real cute even when you were scared. “…Hey.”

You peer up at him, moving his blazer so he could see your complete face. “What?”

“Be careful not to leave your panties here ‘cause I might not give them back.”

The last thing Gojo saw within that second was one of his dress shoes thrown dead at his face. His hands come to his stinging nose and cheek, exclaiming at the pain with a loud groan. “Fucking pervert, quit playing dumb games and get my shoes!”

I take it fucking back. He slams the closet door closed. “So uncute…”

© 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲2024 ❤︎ reblogs + comments are appreciated wholeheartedly ☆ dividers by @/cafekitsune & @/animatedglittergraphics-n-more.

[sophie-looks-at-stuff]

As You Wish

Pairing: Aemond x wife reader

Summary: Aemond's new wife has a moment of reflection wondering if her new husband truly cares for her. Aemond is determined to prove to her that he is utterly devoted to her.

Warnings: smut, some slight angst? maybe idk honestly haha, Aemond loves his wife he just has issues expressing it lol, p in v, oral (f receiving) man is a champ when it comes to that, praise, 18+, vulgar language lol, slight breeding kink

AN: hey y'all! long time no see haha, I finally watched the season 2 hotd premiere last night and had to finally write something! this is my first go at a legit fic and not just headcanons so don't be too judgy haha. but I hope y'all enjoy it! :)

PS: it is unedited rn, but I was just too excited to post it, so I'll edit it later!

The rose-scented bubbles of the bath water lapped soothingly against your flesh. This had become your routine, after the evening's supper or feast you would call to your handmaid to draw a bath. Scalding hot water, warm enough to turn your skin pink upon contact. The boiling water and the familiar scent of the roses were one of the few things that brought you comfort after your marriage to Prince Aemond. Your family had come seasonally to court for many moons now, your mother being a friend of Queen Alicent. As your brothers sparred with the young princes in the training grounds, you took more kindly towards the gardens. Wandering around the maze of flowers and bushes searching for faeries and nymphs. Of course, you had been only a child then and had not yet known that such silly things don’t exist. 

It had been the Prince himself that informed you of such. You had been crouched on your knees before a bed of yellow roses, looking between the stems and leaves for the little creatures. The skirts of your dress soiled and stained brown from the earth beneath you. You had been so preoccupied with searching for them, that you hadn’t heard the crunching of grass and footsteps behind you.

“What in the Seven Hells are you doing?” Aemond had asked you, voice bitter but curious. You stood up hastily, nearly tripping on your own two feet as you spun around and curtsied clumsily. 

“I am searching for faeries my Prince. Mother said that they can be found amongst the stems of the most beautiful flowers!” Your small hands began to nervously dust themselves off on your already dirty skirts. Aemond’s eye followed the motion, his upper lip curling in disgust. It had only been a couple of moons since the young prince had lost his eye. The scar was still fresh and red around the edges, the eyepatch clearly bothering him. For it appeared to be fastened too tight around his head. 

“Don’t be absurd, such pathetic things don’t exist. All you’ve succeeded in doing is soiling your clothes.” He motions down towards your skirts, your cheeks heating in embarrassment. Feeling ashamed to be talked down upon by someone you hoped to be a potential friend. Even though his eye, or lack thereof, scared most, you had found it intriguing. Your father had told you stories of men in faraway places who wore their scars like badges of honor, like trophies of war. The marred skin being a testament to their victories in battle. Your father however did not return to tell the tails of his own scars, for he had passed in the Stepstones, aiding Lord Corlys and Prince Daemon in their war. 

“My apologies my Prince, for I-” you dared a look up into face, his brows knit together, arms crossed over his chest. You lowered your eyes in shame once more “I shall go change my skirts at once.” And with that you darted off, not waiting for a response from the young Targaryen. 

That had been many years ago though, and you were no longer a child, and nor was he. Prince Aemond had grown into a handsome man, not just physically, but intellectually as well. The water of your bath had grown tepid as you recalled the memory, a slight frown adorning your features. Why had he wanted to marry you? He hardly had shown any interest, more likely it was because his mother and grandfather craved the military prowess your family possessed. They needed it for the impending war. So a proposal for your hand had been made, and your eldest brother eagerly accepted. After your father’s passing, and your mother grew older in age he had taken it upon himself to attend to the coming and goings of your house. 

It wasn’t that Aemond was exactly an unkind husband, he just wasn’t present, ever. There was always a reason or excuse for him to leave a room once you arrived. The only full night you had spent with him had been your wedding night, in your marital bed. He wasn’t rough, nor was he gentle, but he possessed an air of duty and responsibility when it came to the consummation. For once he spilled his spend inside of you he had fetched a cloth for you to clean yourself. Then turned his back to you and slept, not uttering another word. 

The sound of your chamber doors creaking open drew you from your thoughts. The clanking of a sword and heavy footsteps made their way towards you in the bathing room. You were met with the sight of your rather disheveled lord husband. Before you could offer him a greeting, however, his eye lifted to your face, and he asked: 

“May I join you?” Taken aback slightly by the question there was a pause, the room silent. Then, you nodded, “Yes, yes of course you may husband.” 

Aemond had waited for your approval before stripping himself bare of his clothes, riding clothes by the looks of it. He must have been out on Vhagar. You observe him as he untethered his belts and the laces of his boots. The years of training had done him well, his arms and back muscles lean and corded. Sometimes you wondered what it would be like to drag your nails down them, as he fucked into you–

“Wife? Did you hear me?” Shit, he must have asked you something, looking up from the muscles of his arms to meet his eyes you shook your head. He chuckled a bit, smirking, you had been caught in your staring.

“I asked you, how was your day my lady wife.” A hint of amusement laced his voice, he had rid himself of his clothes, having placed them neatly over the back of one of the armchairs in the rooms. 

“Oh, well, it was alright. Nothing too exciting I'm afraid. I did have tea with your mother and sister though. That was quite pleasant, Helaena was telling me of the butterflies that come for the roses this time of year. She said we must go see them once they arrive.” As you spoke Aemond made his way around the tub, to behind you. It took an embarrassingly great deal of effort not to stare as he had presented himself bare before you. To look only above his waist and not let your eyes drift down towards his cock. 

“Mmh, yes we must see them then,” his cold hands met your shoulder blades, rubbing small, soothing, circles on them. This was his way of telling you to move forward, so that he may join you in the tub, taking his place behind you, and pulling you onto his lap. 

“You take such tepid baths wife. You’ll catch a cold one of these days.” He mumbled into your ear as he made himself comfortable behind you, his legs outstretched beside your own. It wasn’t that such small talk was uncommon between the two of you when he was around. Besides, you two did share chambers, so despite his avoidance during the day, he was bound to return to you at night. 

Turning fully to face him now, with a surge of annoyance, the water sloshing around the two of you with your sudden movements. “Why do you care? You are hardly even here to see me as is, I doubt you would even notice.” Aemond’s singular lilac eye widens, not from anger, but rather from surprise. His lady wife was always so sweet, so silent, this was new, and dare he say exciting. 

“A woman can only take so much you know–” You go to stand, to leave the tub, and go to bed, done with whatever this conversation is. Aemond’s hand shoots out to grasp your wrist, stopping you from doing so. 

“Wait!” It came out more harsh than he had intended. “I do care for you my lady, truly I do. I did not know that you–”

“Prove it.” You say interrupting whatever he is about to tell you. You keep your eyes level and voice steady. “Prove it to me then husband,”

Aemond says only one thing before attacking your lips, “As you wish,” He is not gentle in his kisses, he does not know how to be gentle. Perhaps you could teach him. His grasp on your wrist moves to your waist as he continues his assault on your lips. His hands roam the flesh of your waist, your hips, your thighs, his lips move down towards your neck. Biting and nipping at the flesh there, sure to leave a mark for all to see.

“Aemond–” 

“Shhh, let me take care of you tonight. Let me prove to you how much I desire you, my love.” He murmurs between bites and kisses. He pulls back, only for a moment, “You are beautiful, I am sorry I have not told you this enough,” his lips attach themselves to one of your breasts, suckling at the nipple. You let out a surprised breath as he bites down, a wave of pleasure shooting straight to your core.

His roaming hands have found purchase on your ass, his deft fingers kneading the plump flesh. Suddenly his grip becomes tighter as he rises from the tub with you in his arms, water spilling over the sides and onto the floor. You hurriedly wrap your arms around his neck, in an attempt to steady yourself. 

“Aemond! You’ve made a mess–” He laughs, fully this time, not just a chuckle. It’s a lovely sound you think.

 “Fuck the mess, the maids shall deal with it in the morning. I’ve neglected my dear lady wife and that must be rectified immediately. One of the hands on your ass pulls back and gives it a small slap. You gasp in surprise, tucking your face into his neck, peppering small kisses there, just as he had done to you moments before. You could get used to this side of your husband. Aemond lets out a hum of satisfaction at your ministrations, soon after playfully throwing you down onto your shared bed. 

“Aemond the sheets, they’re soaked now–” you began to protest cut off rather abruptly by his grip on your ankles. Pulling you down towards the end of the mattress, your cunt now level with his lips. 

“That should hardly matter, we have others–” he places a kiss on your inner thigh. “Besides the only thing I care to see soaked is your cunt after I am done–” Without another word or hesitation, Aemond licks a hot stripe up the center of your core. Then a second, and a third, until he loses all control. He devours you like a man starved. His strong arms wrap themselves around your things, pulling you impossibly closer to him. His tongue continues its assault on your cunt.

“You taste of the finest ambrosia–” the vibrations of his voice sending shock waves of electricity to your clit. Aemond is only spurred on further by the sound of your sweet moans. His name falling from your lips like a chant, like a prayer to the Seven. His lips find purchase on your clit, sucking and licking till you're writhing beneath him. Your hands shoot down, finding purchase in his long silver locks.

“Aemond, oh Aemond–” the words spill from your lips like nonsense. The only thing you are able to focus on is his lips and tongue lapping at your cunt. The man between your thighs devouring you like this is his last meal alive.

“Cum for me, cum on my tongue. And then I shall reward you with my cock. Cum for me my love–” As if on command, you feel the muscles of your lower abdomen contract, and then all that lovely pleasure overflows, and bursts from you. With a strangled cry of his name, you cum on his tongue. You look down at your husband between your thighs, his lips glistening in your release. 

“Good girl, my good, sweet, perfect girl. You did exactly what I asked,” he crawls up your body, stopping only to place the occasional kiss to your hot skin. His lips return to your neck, sucking love marks into the skin over the faint ones he had left before. A newfound favorite of his perhaps. He gives his cock a few strokes, his thumb collecting the beading drop of arousal from his tip. Wordlessly, he brings the digit up to your lips, pressing down gently on your bottom one. You open your mouth, sucking the essence from his finger, swirling your tongue around it, eager to please him. He groans in response, resting his forehead on yours, 

“Perhaps another night my love, I need to be inside of you now.” You release his thumb with a slight pop. 

“Fuck me then, husband–” Not needing any further encouragement, Aemond sheathes his cock inside of your cunt. The warm, velvety walls squeezing him perfectly. “Fuck–” he moans breathlessly as he slowly begins to thrust into your weeping cunt. The squelching noises from his movements turn your cheeks red, you move to hide your face in the crook of his neck once more, but a hand on your chin stops you. From above, Aemond’s lilac eye bores into your own, like a spell, you are unable to look away.

Aemond’s thrusting becomes faster, harder, like a man starved. The grasp on your chin returns to your hips. As Aemond rolls back slightly, sitting on his knees, he brings your hips to meet his, your back still on the bed. From this angle he has full control over your body, not that he hadn’t before. But now he could control his thrusts, making them sharper, harder. Beneath him, your eyes screw shut in pleasure, consumed by his ministrations. 

You look beautiful like this, he thinks. Cheeks red, hair a mess, sweat glistening on your skin. He had been a fool before, not indulging you more often. Not being by your side, it was a mistake he would make no more. He had been too afraid of your rejection, too afraid you would find him repulsive because of his scar. The scar that he himself found so disturbing. But clearly, the way his name fell from your lips, as your face contorted in pleasure, this was not the case. 

“Shall I cum inside of your perfect cunt? Shall I plant my seed, and watch you grow and swell with my child?” He barely recognized the words coming from his lips, too lost in carnal desire to notice. 

“Yes, yes Aemond, yes–” the words leaving your lips like a hymn, a prayer to your lord husband. Aemond’s fingers began to circle your bud as he continued to rut into you. 

“Together then, I can feel you little wife–” As if he possessed some kind of magic, you did as commanded. Aemond’s release coating your walls, both of you warm and well sated. Once more he leans down, leaving a small peck on your lips before resting his forehead on yours. 

“I have been a fool, a complete and utter fool. I am not a great man in many ways my sweet lady wife. But for you perhaps I could be,” He places another kiss on your lips. 

“I would like that very much Aemond,” you smile a bit as you say this because it is true and it would be unfair to not allow him to prove as much. After all, that is what you asked of him is it not? Without pulling out or away from you, Aemond rolls to his side, tucking you into him, desperate to keep you in his arms. 

“Stay like this with me tonight, please?” He asks, afraid you’ll send him away. 

“Tonight and every night if you behave,” you give him a slight pinch to add emphasis to your comment. You feel his chest vibrate against your cheek with laughter. 

“As you wish,” he says one final time, as the two of you drift off to sleep, held safely in the arms of one another.

[astonmartingf]

YOU'RE SO REAL FOR THAT! ; F1 GRID

f1 grid x driver!reader . . . gen z f1 driver ranks previous crushes in f1 in a new tiktok video that sends fans in a coma /real

amgf well well well, guess who's back (hopefully) uhm i'm enrolled and officially an intern 😀👍 we love to see that, i made this before hungary i think? but yeah, i have too many drafts and no will to write, i'm blaming the new season in wild rift 😋 and because i've been busy with the internship thingy... a lot of seminars and preparations to do sooooo i hope you enjoy this like always

yourusername uploaded a new video

. . . view 736,937 comments

user73 hello? came running from twt, everyone talking about this

user62 i thought people were making a big deal on twt like usual but this is actual next levels of insane

user32 yn was bored with summer break and decided to break the internet and possibly the team's pr manager

user50 i relate because i too am not immune to blond hair and blued eyed men...

landonorris i think you forgot to message one more driver on the grid...

→ yourusername you're right @/yukitsunoda0511 i had a crush on you before 😌☝️

→ landonorris i meant a british driver on the grid...

→ yourusername alex is already there???

→ landonorris a mclaren driver perhaps.....

→ yourusername oh my gosh you reminded me!!!! i definitely had a really tiny crush on mclaren @/carlossainz 😋🫶

→ yourusername look lando i specifically said in the second slide that if you're not there then i probably hated you, people said you have poor reading comprehension, didn't think it'd be true 🫤

user38 cleared lando fr!!!!!!

user93 no charles leclerc, max verstappen, daniel ricciardo? fraud 🤥

→ user05 wtf not everyone likes them????

→ user17 y'all it's not that deep, this is yn's crush ranking why are y'all projecting////

georgerussell catching strays on a post about you having a crush on alex before????

→ yourusername oh well... i say it the way i see it and i see the way you look at alex 🙄🙏

logansargeant well well well

→ yourusername shut up logan 🙄

→ oscarpiastri no... but this is interesting ✍️ ain't it @/logansargeant?

→ yourusername shut your traps, i didn't give y'all exclusive content for you to run your mouth online

→ user48 honey i fear you're already running your mouth enough 🥹

user72 is no one taking about the mick one???? like??? i'm thinking about their f3 and f2 moments now and i see it

→ user49 OMG!NNN exactly! i get it now, the tension when they're together

jensonbutton reading your message at 2am asking for permission is not something i expected, my question though is... am i p1?

→ yourusername technically you're p-last atm but considering you're my first f1 crush i guess you're p1

→ jensonbutton i see... one rank higher than @/nicorosberg 👍

→ nicorosberg is this what catching strays mean @/yourusername?

→ yourusername yes 😭

dennis_hauger this is not what i said to you, i'm about to sue for defamation

→ yourusername you can't do that, i need a wag to bring for races

→ dennis_hauger i'm racing too?

→ yourusername and?

user85 mr dennis hauger??? did we miss three chapters here?

→ user69 no!!! they've been going at it since the beginning look up the 2022 f2 season

→ user03 there are various compilations in youtube and in yn's youtube channel !!!!

mickshumacher what is this? this is not what you sent me?

→ yourusername is it slander yn day? i'm out here airing my business and y'all say i'm a fraud istg

→ mickshumacher hahahahahaha but i agree with everything you said, i felt the same way

→ yourusername hello? when was this?

→ mickshumacher probably three, four years ago? same year with you, things didn't just work out

→ yourusername dang so you could've been my wag? ngl glad it's not you 😂🫵

→ mickshumacher i agree, who would want to be with you atp

→ yourusername slander and defamation?????

→ mickshumacher well who doesn't have a wag now? exactly, not me

yourusername wow i made this so we could have fun, but now everyone is just making fun of me, might as well delete this before the PR team sees this 😮‍💨

→ user52 noooooo please keep this up

→ user17 this is actually very slayful if you!!! don't ❌❌ let 🫵 the haters 🤡😈💩 stop 🛑✋ you

→ user28 this is actually what we want this summer, i'm begging 🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️

[celestie0]

gojo satoru x reader | college au [18+]

kickoff ch.12 how you get the girl

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

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

ᰔ warnings/tags. 18+, fem reader, fluff, angst, smut, college au, fraternities, sororities, partying, drinking/alcohol, romance, jealousy, pining, slow burn, opposites to lovers, friends to lovers, she falls first he falls harder, gojo being an idiot, marijuana use, sexism, sexual harassment (verbal only)

ᰔ chapter. 12/x (probably 18)

ᰔ words. 11.3k

a/n. man the color scheme for this chapter is kinda giving BRAT lolol...i mean gojo IS brat. anywho, i don't have much to say at the beginning of this chapter but i do have a LOT to say at the end of it sooo see y'all at the bottom!! hope u enjoy. also BIG THANK YOU to @whereflowerswenttodie who beta read parts of this chapter for me n convinced me not to scrap it lol

nav. masterlist

☾·̩͙꙳ moodboard no.1 :: ♬.*ﾟplaylist

11:03am you: hi! 11:03am you: good luck today 11:03am you: incase i don’t see you

11:05am Gojo Satoru: Why wouldn’t you? Aren’t you gonna be on the field for your newsletter shots?

11:07am you: i mean yes but idk where i’m gonna be stationed so 11:07am you: it might not be on UTokyo’s side of the field

11:08am Gojo Satoru: Okay then I’ll look for you before the game starts

11:10am you: no pls don’t. coach yaga thinks i distract you. i don’t want to get yelled at again. he scares me :(

11:12am Gojo Satoru: Haha you’re silly 11:13am Gojo Satoru: East side entrance at 2 11:13am Gojo Satoru: Be there

11:14am you: or be square?

11:15am Gojo Satoru: Yea whatever shape you wanna be in is fine cutie

It’s a bright sunny day outside, perfectly blue sky with a scattering of fluffy clouds seen outside the window of your shared room in your apartment, and you realize spring is fully here from the way birds chirp past the glass. You’re stuffing your camera case full of chilled Kodak film rolls, your last stash left, and it’s the last piece of equipment you pack before slinging the strap over your shoulder and heading out the door.

Mina had offered to give you a ride to the stadium since your car’s still at the shop, but you’re happy you opted for the bumpy bus ride and although you come close to low-grade concussions from the bang of your head to the window at every other speed bump, the music in your ears while someone else is operating a public transport vehicle helps you think creatively before shooting shots.

It was surprise enough that Mina of all people was going to this game, and when you questioned her about it in the morning, she looked at you like you were absurd to assume anyone from UTokyo wouldn’t be at this game, and sure enough, it’s all anyone on Instagram has been repping on their stories or talking about in the bustling minutes before lectures. Even Utahime was going to this game, and she hates all intercollegiate sports. You knew the game was a big deal, given the way Coach Yaga was yelled at via email by the Dean of UTokyo to make sure the team wins today because a multimillion dollar Nike sponsorship would be greenlit by the prospect (for some reason you were cc’d in an email chain among divisional higher-ups, but you weren’t opposed to snooping in on conversations that were entirely outside of your tax bracket).

It’s because it’s the second to last home game before the season ends, and apparently this has been statistically the best season the UTokyo D1 Men’s Soccer team has played since the new millenia. No pressure to the players on that fact, but failure wasn’t much of an option for them anymore. 

And you can feel the stakes the second you step inside the stadium. Packed would be an understatement, there were people flooding the aisles, overbooked for the sake of the university pocketing an extra buck no doubt, but spectators could care less since they were able to at least get in on the basis of that irresponsibility in the first place, despite the stadium’s capacity having long been reached before the pregame festivities even start. Banners and signs drape over railings with the school’s striking blue and golden colors, every single replay screen is lit up and brightly pixelated at every north, south, east, and west entrance for inclusive viewing. As you pass VIP security and make it into the lower field-level entry, the scattered chants from the crowd amplify in volume and you almost wince a little to yourself from the noise. The stadium felt like a living, breathing entity, pulsing with the collective heartbeat of everyone inside. 

You’ve never been more overstimulated in your life, except instead of finding it frightening, it was electrifying. And for once, you think you can understand what an athlete must feel when playing on their own home turf surrounded by those that are wholeheartedly rooting for them.

Hana is quick to spot you, panic clear across her face as she regards you with a couple pages with your assigned vantage points, a rushed briefing session, and then she’s darting down the sidelines to make sure equipment is set up appropriately where needed. She’s understaffed, given you told Utahime about Kai’s little intervention last week and she made a nasty point to the university (and possibly a handful of legal threats) and they relented in firing him. So now the three of you were down a photographer, and the extra work shows in the instructions she gave you as you skim the sheets. 

A glance at your phone tells you it’s close to 2pm, and your eyes take in the expanse of green on the field. UTokyo’s players practice kicking shots off to the right goal post, while YCU’s players practice shots off to the left. You can’t spot where Gojo is, but you faithfully head down to the East Side entrance like he asked you to. 

When you round the corner, you almost crash right into an Ichiko mascot, but swiftly dodge, and then you stop in your tracks when you see Gojo standing right at the concrete entrance. He’s leaning back against the adjacent wall, arms crossed at his chest, and he’s stretching his neck side to side with a creased brow, an intense look in his eyes, lost in serious thought, scanning the wall across from him like he’s mapping out plays in his head. 

When you approach him and catch the corner of his eyesight, he leans off the wall and flashes you one of his so extremely charmed to see you grins on reflex, and suddenly there’s nothing your senses seem to pick up on except him. Like everything else around you just disappears.

“Hey, you,” he says when he comes up to you, and you walk him like a dog back to a corner that’s tucked further away from noises and sights. You lean your back against the wall now, the coolness of concrete seeping through the fabric of your shirt, and he stands a step in front of you. Your hands toy with the strap of your camera.

“Are you ready to win today?” you ask him, and look off to the right into the flourishing seats that are still being filled to the brim, “clearly there’s no pressure.”

He breathes in deep, and releases it slowly, like there really was tension to relieve. “We’ve got no choice but to win.”

“Is that something Coach Yaga says to you guys often?” you ask him, because the man recited the same thing about five times in that email chain. “Also, apparently you take years off of his life.” Another thing he recited about five times in that email chain.

Gojo only addresses what he wants to address, as per usual. “Yeah, it’s something he says to us often.” 

“So,” you say, “what did you want to talk about?”

He looks at you puzzled, tilting his head to the side. “Nothing. I just wanted to see you.”

It’s hard to assume that he didn’t have something to talk about with the intention of telling you to meet him here, because this is the same place you confessed to him a few weeks ago, and so is also the place he so painfully rejected you. But maybe he doesn’t think about these kinds of things as much as you do. “I see.”

His tongue pokes to his cheek as he studies your anticipating expression, and then he sighs, his shoulders slumping slightly. “What are we doing? I mean, I like you, and you like me too, at least I hope you still do. Why don’t we—…why don’t we just give it a go already? I don’t see how we can move forward if you won’t at least let me take you out on a date.”

Your hands stop fidgeting with your camera strap from his words, and you lick your lips, suddenly unable to keep eye contact with him so your gaze drifts down to his chest in front of you. His uniform is clean, no smudges of dirt or grass, just pure white fabric underneath heat-pressed blue and golden accents, and of course, that signature number 10. You’re sure he’s all you’ll ever think of when you see that number now for the rest of your life. 

You know when you want something so bad you don’t know what to do once you have it? Because it almost seems too good to be true? 

“I just wanted to let stuff between us breathe for a little bit,” you confess, “it’s just, it was a lot to deal with. Being around you when I thought you didn’t want me the way I wanted you. I don’t know if this is odd to say, and maybe I’m overthinking it, but I just feel like somewhere along the way, I kind of…forgot who you were for a little bit.” This kind of vulnerability would have you running away with your tail between your legs with anyone else, but not with him. Not after everything. 

His expression softens, melting away that confrontational energy he had earlier, and he nods slowly. He opens his mouth to speak, but he can’t seem to find words. The presence of them is there, though, you can feel them. But what good are his thoughts if not voiced? 

“I just wanted to spend a little bit of time getting to know you again, I guess.” You squeeze your arm in reassurance of yourself because he wasn’t giving it to you. You let out an awkward laugh. “I don’t really know what I’m saying right now, to be honest.”

You can tell he’s at a crossroads, and you think back to this week and his efforts to get you to open up to him again. You know how he feels right now, because it’s exactly how you felt when he rejected you. Like when someone is so close, yet so far, you can feel that they’re within arms reach but never truly. And they’re slipping away for some reason that you may never know, but all you can do is assume that it’s a fault of your own. You’re not really sure what he can do to make you feel secure about this whole thing anymore, and you can see the slight panic in his eyes when he realizes that too.

“I don’t mind waiting,” he tells you, rushed with a desperation entirely contrary to his words, “what’s a week or two when I want to spend a lot more of those with you anyways.” But he takes a deep breath, like he’s already mentally preparing himself for an agonizing wait in his head.

There’s a sound over the stadium speakers, something technical and sporty and goes entirely over your head in dismissal, but to Gojo it seems to have a different effect, as he’s suddenly attentive and stands up straighter, that focused expression on his face from earlier resurfacing. You realize he needs to get back to the field. 

“Can we continue this conversation after the game?” he asks you hastily, already turning towards the center of the stadium. And he adds an obligatory, “sorry.”

“Yeah, sure,” you quickly agree, suddenly feeling like you’re taking up his time. 

He gives you a small smile, unsure in its presentation but pure in its intention. But he can only take one step towards the field before you reach out and pinch the fabric of his jersey to keep him still. He feels the tug of it and fully faces you once again. 

“Um. Just a sec,” you say, “I have something to give you before your game.”

“Oh?” he looks at you with interest, “I fucking love things.” 

“You have to close your eyes though.”

“…what is the thing…” He squints at you with a what are you up to expression.

“Just close your eyes!” you snap at him.

“Okay, okay, jeez,” he holds his hands up in front of him in surrender, shaking his head to get his hair out of his face and then he closes his eyes. “You’re scary as hell sometimes. Excuse me for being cautious.”

You roll your eyes, useless because he doesn’t see it, and then take a step towards him. You cup his jaw with the palm of your hand, his cheek twitching slightly from the unexpected contact, and then you raise on your tiptoes to press your lips to his cheek. It’s short and sweet with the sound of a peck.

“For good luck,” you whisper, then you quickly lower yourself back onto your heels, take a step back and tuck some strands of hair behind your ear. The ground suddenly interests you.

He opens his eyes, blinking a few times with shock and his hand comes up to brush the tips of his fingers against the spot you kissed him, and then his gaze goes comically dazed when he reaches out to hold you. “Alright, c’mere you,” he says, closing his eyes and puckering his lips as he leans down to kiss you but you laugh and push his face away.

“No no no, only on the cheek for now,” you say with a small laugh.

He does nothing to restrain his frustrated groan. “You can’t do something that cute and then expect me to be chill about it.”

“If you win, then, maybe I’ll let you kiss me for real.”

“Maybe?”

“Yes. Maybe.”

He’s close, towering over you near this bustling east side entrance that he seems to like so much, and his eyes drop to your lips. “Alright. I like those odds.” 

You give him a smile and slip away from him to get back towards the field, and you feel his eyes on you as you walk away.

The pregame events are a blur, with blaring music accompanied by the sounds of the sports announcers clipping across the speakers, finally quieted down in time for the players to line up on the field for the national anthem which was then followed by UTokyo’s alma mater. 

You’re stationed on the same side of the field as Minato, UTokyo’s side, while Hana is covering the sidelines of the opposite end with the opponents goal post. Minato’s filling up a cup of Gatorade for himself at the athlete’s station and then he comes back around to find you.

“Are you ready to take your shots? I see Hana wanted you to shoot on film today,” he says to you as he sloshes around Glacier Freeze in a flimsy plastic cup.

You twist your aperture dial with your thumb. “Yesss, all set. I’ll try to keep up.” 

He nods at you in approval.

The atmosphere feels nerve wracking. Something felt different about this game, the stakes feeling high. Well, of course they’re high, because if they lose today then they’re out of the tournament. But the stakes feel high for other reasons too, an energy you can pick up on but can’t quite discern. 

Your eyes drift across the field where you can see a referee placing a ball at the center of the field. Off to the right, you can see Gojo standing with a few of his other teammates, including Geto, Nanami, and Choso, and they’re all gesticulating to various corners of the field as they discuss what you can only imagine have to do with their plays for today. And you realize— it’s their last college soccer season. Their second-to-last official home match before the championship, and for those of them that haven’t qualified for the national league, it may be their second-to-last match of this caliber for the rest of their lives. One of the final chances that they have to prove something of themselves. The determination was palpable. 

The chief referee’s whistle cuts through the air with three short chirps, and that gathers the attention of all the players on the field. UTokyo wins the coin toss, choosing to kickoff, and YCU’s players choose to attack the left side goal.

Your stomach churns with anticipation, the crowd hushing too as all the players take their places on the field. If you feel nervous, you can only imagine how the athletes feel. There’s a rhythm that you’ve learned over the past couple of months getting to know the sport, where players stretch out their necks and kick out their feet and take subtle deep breaths as they survey the stands. Idle moments before the start of the match where they have no choice but to look forward and only forward, so they take a moment to stay in the present for as long as they can gather. You’ve never been much of a sports spectator, and perhaps you’ve only recently had some personal interest in the team, but you realize you feel pride in your school as you stand behind chalk sideline and see UTokyo’s colors scattered across the field in uniform. And fuck, you wanted them to win. You wanted them to win with fierceness and wrath, and it’s a desire you share with the crowd. 

Gojo spends a minute talking to the referee before the black and white striped man pats him high on the back in the good sport and urges him towards the center of the field. He lifts his foot up onto the ball, rolling it back and forth underneath the spikes of his cleat, and you can see it in his eyes, even from all the way over here, that he seems to have different ideas in mind for this game too. High stakes. Pre-determined, set with will, evident in the clench of his jaw and the concentrated furrow of his brow as he surveys the field with his eyes, and you’re lost in the sight for what feels like forever because you can hardly register the chirp of the ref’s whistle. 

And then the kickoff starts. 

The ball is tapped to Geto to start the play, and the first few minutes were intense as the ball was passed back and forth between UTokyo’s players, placing pressure on YCU’s defense as they inched closer and closer towards the goal. A pass between UTokyo’s #4 was intercepted by YCU and the ball was rushed down towards the left side, the crowd’s horror evident in the uproar as they raise to their feet in fearful anticipation, and with ruthless offense, YCU’s forward takes a clear sink shot towards the goal, and the crowd holds their breath before they watch Choso lunge for it in air, gloved hands firmly grabbing the ball and then pulling it to his chest with a possessiveness you can only expect to see from a skilled goalie, before he crashes down into the ground and the crowd releases relief in the form of rowdy roars.

Ten minutes in, with everyone on their toes, each team tested each other’s defenses. UTokyo were known for stellar offense, especially within the past few years with players like Gojo Satoru and Takuma Ino joining the league as powerful forwards, but UTokyo’s overall offense was still statistically second to none other than YCU. And the pressure YCU was putting on UTokyo’s defense was wearisome to say the least. You glance to see Nanami, who is UTokyo’s best defensive player, huffing and puffing as he stands between two light-footed YCU players in an attempt to guard, and fails an attempt to steal the ball before it gets to the feet of YCU’s striker #6, passed in a split second off to his teammate, with a fake so seamless that it has Choso just a couple inches away from touching the ball before it’s sent flying into the net. 

The noises from the crowd are still loud, but dampened in spirit. 

With the referees hand signal up in the air, the current score is confirmed. 0-1, YCU. 

Coach Yaga calls for a sub, in which he switches Nanami out for who you believe is a 2nd-year defensive player name Yuta you’ve seen around practice with a promising statistical record for interceptions, and you watch as Nanami takes the bench before he swipes the sweat off his face in exhaustion. God. Just fifteen minutes into the match, and YCU already has UTokyo’s defense winded from play. 

You bring your camera up to your face, forgetting for a moment that there was still a job to do here, and you position the direction of the lens towards the center of the field, where Gojo takes his place at the ball once more. Yuta briefly passes by him, signaling some play to him by holding up a number three, likely something Coach Yaga asked him to pass on to Gojo, and you see him briefly nod, his mouth slightly agape as he breathes slowly and pulls his jersey up to wipe at the sweat at his forehead. 

The referee chirps the whistle, Gojo taps the ball to Yuta, and the play starts. 

YCU immediately puts pressure on UTokyo’s offensive play once more, with eager movements to steal the ball, but it’s passed between UTokyo’s players with ease, more practiced and more sure. The kind of play that you and the rest of the school was used to seeing from them. However, Geto loses the ball on a left-back pass, but right when YCU makes attempts to cover field in a long-shot kick towards the left, Yuta intercepts the ball and swiftly passes it to Gojo.

The crowd immediately rises to their feet in anticipation, watching as Gojo shuffles the ball down the field, dangerously close to off-field boundaries, a signature tactic he uses because he knows there’s not a single player in the league that can match him in precision and control to keep the ball in-field on a steal, and he swiftly passes it towards Geto with a side-swept kick, beelining down towards the goal post, in perfect time for Geto pass-back to meet his feet and when Gojo was this close to a net, there was no stopping him. 

He draws his right foot back, and explosively kicks the ball forward, chipping the grass under it in the motion, and it’s sent flying towards the goal, and then threaded past the goalie right to the back of the net. The cheers that erupt across the stadium rumble the ground beneath you. 

1-1, even match.

UTokyo spends no time celebrating, other than a few pats to Gojo’s back as he nods in acknowledgement, no emotion on his face other than pure concentration and greed. The greed to win, like a righteous sin. He stretches his neck out, panting slightly as he takes his place towards the right side of the field and the referee chirps his whistle to signal YCU to start the kickoff.

They quickly make attempts in moving the ball towards their scoring-end of the field, but face push-back from UTokyo’s defense, unable to make it much further past the midfield line, and you bring your camera up to take a snap of Gojo, who you see is still standing off to the right side of the field. But when you position it and peer through the viewfinder, that space he once stood at was empty. You pull your camera down, and blink at the sight, and then the crowd is picking up in volume once more.

Gojo sprints down the flank, cutting past every defender, and moves towards YCU’s attacking goal, which was a shocking place to be for a center forward, but you could feel his desire and determination to steal this back-and-forth ball, and succeeds when YCU makes an open pass, thinking they were in the clear, only to have Gojo sneak in at the last moment and get the ball at his feet. 

The play moves by in a flash, a blur that you or anyone else in the stadium could hardly keep up with it, movements so fast you were shocked a human being was capable of even running that far in such a short amount of time, and in an almost embarrassingly easy play, Gojo makes a fool out of YCU’s defenders as he slips the ball through the legs of his last obstacle before he struck it with sharp precision, sending it soaring to the corner of the goal, past the outstretched arms of the goalie, and into the net. 

2-1, UTokyo.

It was electrifying, the feeling that strikes through the stadium, one that reaches you in your own blood. You’re shocked, standing here, after witnessing Gojo score two goals within the matter of minutes, against one of the top three teams in the league. It’s a shock that reaches everyone, including Coach Yaga who’s standing about ten feet down the line from you, his arms crossed, and you see his eyes for the first time as he takes his sunglasses off to get a better look at what he’s seeing.

You trail his sight, dragging your gaze across the field until it lands at Gojo, who is barely acknowledging the encouraging pats and shakes and goodhearted shoves that his teammates were giving him, because he was focused. It might sound crazy to say, but you swear his eyes looked like a fiercer shade of blue, like they were lit up, and you’re insanely glad you’re not one of YCU’s defensive players at the moment because you feel fearful of him even just standing on the sidelines. 

Your gaze trails back to Coach Yaga, who slowly puts his sunglasses back on but his brows are narrowed tightly as he crosses his arms over his chest tightly.

The “athletic zone”... You’ve heard of it before. A state of pure focus, of peak performance, where an athlete experiences optimal concentration and a sense of effortless control over their actions. In which they perform at their highest level, where time slows down, any and all distractions fade away, and they’re completely immersed in their sport at hand. At the task at hand.

Coach Yaga seems to pick up on the fact that Gojo was on the edge of tapping into that state. 

YCU makes a substitution, and you watch in anticipation as they begin the kickoff. 

There’s fire in their veins with desperation to even out the score once more, rushing the ball down the off-field line, one of their center forwards mimicking Gojo’s signature attack pattern, and Yuta struggles to keep up with the expert dribbling of a fourth-year player with more experience on him, so much so to where he completely leaves the ball unguarded and there’s an open shot, but Geto places pressure at the last moment, in a fierce battle for the ball, before YCU’s center forward loses the ball over the goal line. 

Choso picks the ball up, tapping on it harshly a few times as he surveys his eyes down the field, and all offensive players begin to shuffle towards their attacking goal in anticipation for the goal kick. He signals his hand down and then holds up two fingers in the air before placing the ball down on the six-yard box. He tightens the strap of one of his gloves, eyes squinting, and you follow his gaze down to a part of the field where you note UTokyo’s best aerial players are located and being guarded by YCU’s defense. And with complete trust in his team, that’s exactly where he kicks the ball. 

Geto makes first contact with the ball, his chest colliding with two other YCU players as his head comes out on top and he headbutts the ball closer towards the inner field, and Gojo immediately gains access to it with a bounce of his knee. The crowd holds their breath, fear that they’ll lose the ball to a steal in the split second it spends floating in the air, but Gojo urges it forward with a bounce off of his chest and then rushes it straight down towards the goal post. 

You wonder what sight he sees right now. Where you’re dead center, at no angle, lunging towards the sight of an open goal with a sole goalie standing in the center, anticipating to block your shot, and three defenders on your tail. There’s no room for error, no time to think, only instincts that you cultivate in the last leading milliseconds. They say that, in sports, athletes channel one hundred hours of practice in just a brief second on the field. A split second success that was years in the making. You can’t even imagine possessing that level of perfection in your body, or possessing that level of confidence that you can follow through with it in a moment as dire as this.

It was unreal, the way Gojo fades away from all the defenders, and faces no fear when confronted with the sight of the goalie in front of him while drawing his foot back to kick the ball. You lift your camera up at the last second, no time to think about aperture or ISO, just like he had no time to second-doubt a single twitch in his muscles, and his foot makes contact with the ball so harshly that you can hear the explosive sound even among the delirious cheers from the crowd, before he hook, line, and sinks it straight past the goalie’s head, rushing by like a scarcely deflected bullet, and into the net behind him. 

3-1, UTokyo.

The whole stadium is momentarily speechless, all players and referees and recruiters and reporters and coaches and employees alike, before the most deafening cheers you’ve ever heard in your life scatter across the stands.

There’s a moment of brief reprieve, where the players can catch their breath while YCU makes yet another substitution, as if they’re just trial-and-erroring it at this point, and the cheers in the stadiums remain idle as you can’t tear your gaze away from Gojo.

It’s one of those moments where you realize that someone who you thought was so familiar to you was actually someone you hardly knew at all. You knew he was a talented soccer player, everyone on campus knows it, potentially one of the best to ever grace the league, and the amount of times you passively watched his plays on a lecture hall projector screen as your professor enthusiastically broke them down during class, even before you met him, was good enough for you to realize that he was insane, a one-in-a-million, a talent you cannot replicate, one you have by divinity. One you were born with. 

And yet, somehow, getting to know him these past couple of months, he just felt so human. For someone so seemingly beyond you, he felt so…close? In those moments where it was just the two of you, it was hard to imagine that he was capable of such greatness, and that so many people were rooting for him with wholehearted tears in their eyes and cheers from their hearts, because most of the time, when he was with you, he was just a dorky idiot. You find that your heart is beating fast in your chest, that feeling of being unsure of what to do with what you’ve been wanting resurfacing powerfully. 

“This is insane,” you hear Minato say from beside you and you jump a little from your thoughts being interrupted.

You twiddle with your camera straps. “I know…almost done with the first half and we’re up 3-1…I thought YCU are number one in offense for the league?”

“Oh, yeah, I mean, yes, that is insane too. But what’s even more insane is that three of the goals so far have been scored by one player.” He tips his chin towards the right sight of the field and you trail his line of sight. “By Gojo Satoru.”

Your brow furrows as you watch Gojo, his hands on his hips and his mouth slightly open as he indulges in a few shallow breaths to gain energy while YCU prepares for kickoff. Three goals, by just one player. Your eyes widen when you realize that is insane, especially for a D1 semi-final qualifying match.

“You know what the divisional record is for most goals scored by a single player during a championship match, y/n?” Minato asks you as he lifts his camera up to take a picture of the area Gojo was standing in. 

You shake your head and wait for his response.

He drops his camera down and glances at the photo on his screen. “Four. During Keio Uni vs. Osaka Uni, near the beginning of the tournament back in 1997 by Osaka’s center forward number 24, Yuji Nakazawa. Meaning no one’s managed to beat that record since the new millenia, for a couple decades. Although a few players came close.”

You blink at him, and Minato is jerking his chin over in the direction of Gojo again.

“I think he’s trying to beat the record.”

You can only widen your eyes at Minato in realization, and then the chirp of the referee’s whistle draws everyone’s attention back to the field. 

The sports announcers go wild on the speakers, the crowd raving all the same, standing to their feet like the team just won the championship match.

“LADIES AND GENTLEMEN!! We are watching HISTORY in the making!! Gojo Satoru, UTokyo’s very own 3-year consecutive MVP, has scored his 34th goal of the season, highest of any player in this year’s season so far, and is now on the road to beat the league’s long-standing record for most goals scored by a single player in a championship match since 1997!!” And the crowd roars even louder as you stare out at the field in awe.

YCU starts the kickoff following the prompt short chirp of the referee’s whistle, and with two minutes remaining on the clock for the first half, make desperate attempts to book it down the field towards their attacking goal, one of their midfielders making a clumsy attempt to strike the ball to the net in the final minutes of the half, and Choso easily catches it in his arms, right before the buzzer of the timer sounds, and the match moves into halftime. 

All of UTokyo’s players immediately flock towards Gojo in sportful glee, finally having a chance to surround him and harass him with harsh pats on his back and ruffles of his hair for his play in the first half. Choso even puts him in a headlock because they all don’t know what else to do with their excitement and adrenaline rushing through their bodies. Their win for today was basically confirmed with the way he was playing. 

You catch a glimpse of him through the crowd of people, and he has a boyish grin on his face, reveling in the embarrassing amount of attention from his teammates, that focused look from before dissolving into his normal self again. But you can see through him, as well enough as you’ve learned to at least, and you can tell he’s not satisfied. He’s thinking it’s not enough. There’s still more to be done, and it’s not time to celebrate yet. 

His eyes scan down the sideline until they find you. 

Your heart jumps a second in your chest. He stands up straighter, despite his teammates still clinging to him, and there’s a twinkle in his eyes when your eyes meet. 

Cheerleaders take their place out onto the field, performing their numbers with loud music blaring, and the recruiters seated at their white tables get up to roam across the sidelines in discussion with referees and with Coach Yaga and with whatever players they can sink their greedy teeth into, as well as sneak at refreshments while they’re at it. You can see off to the right that Hana has reunited with Minato and she’s showing him some of the shots she took over at the opponent's side. 

UTokyo’s players start to make their way to the benches to grab for towels and drinks of water and to sprawl across in rest, and you hear loud familiar laughter approaching as you watch the players sprawl across the benches, so you avert your eyes towards the source of the sound. 

You see Gojo approaching the benches, two of his teammates slung with their arms around him in some type of adrenaline-drunken glee as they talk dramatically and theatrically which Gojo entertains with his own drunk-off-of-adrenaline glee. And you raise an eyebrow at his demeanor when he makes eye contact with you.

“There’s my freaky little photographer,” he says, and he’s standing up straight and—wait, is he puffing his chest out as he makes his way towards you? Oh for fucks sake.

Gojo has always been confident around you, for as long as you can remember, but in the fair few moments he’s been cocky, he’s been a menace. And you can only assume the testosterone-induced high of being on the verge of breaking a league record in front of the entire school then subsequently getting homiesexually praised by his teammates for the better part of the past five minutes, not to mention with the crowd and the reporters feeding his ego with a spoon across the speakers, he’s been transformed into the final boss of cocky.

His teammates surround you too, their hands on their hips as they assess you and Gojo when he meanders right up to you, arms held out to hug you, a sleazy sight you’ve seen probably six times this week, and you feel a rush of warmth in your cheeks as you place a hand on his chest to keep him away.

“You’re sweaty and gross, please stay away from me,” you reprimand him, “this is an expensive lens that is not humidity-proof.” 

“Hey, you’re the girl that Kentaro socked in the face with a ball the other day at practice, right?” one of his teammates asks, leaning in towards you to take a closer look at your face.

“Oh yeahhh, ‘cause Satoru wasn’t paying attention,” another one of his teammates chimes in teasingly, hardly heard over the loud remix playing in the background as the cheerleaders continue to perform on the field. 

You shrink a little from where you stand. Gojo’s got an irritated look on his face and he’s shrugging his teammate’s elbow off of his shoulder.

“I really hope you’re getting my good angles,” his teammate to the left comments before winking at you, and you purse your lips together. 

The one on the right leans in too, looking at your cheek with an assessing look in his eye. “At least it didn’t leave a scar on your cute face—”

Gojo shoves the both of them back and away from you by elbowing them in the chest, and they make deep eugh noises before stepping away and rubbing at their sternums with pouts on their faces.

“Get the fuck away from her,” he grumbles, “she’s mine.”

Your cheeks flush slightly with warmth at the attention, and you watch as his teammates scurry away to adhere to some social hierarchy Gojo seems to possess over them.

You raise an eyebrow at him. “Yours?”

“Yes. Eventually. Whatever, did you see me out there?” he turns his torso towards the field and points behind himself with his thumb, “when I—”

“Oh god, you know what’s soooooooooo super sexy to me?” you interrupt him. “When guys are humble.”

“Oh c’monnn,” he curls his arm around your waist and pulls you to him, to where you stumble a little on grass and he holds you when you fall into him with more clumsiness than grace. “Tell me you aren’t at least impressed by me.”

You pout, because you are, and you’d really like to give him some reassurance and validation, but for some reason his cocky attitude is setting you off. “Satoru,” you sigh, wiggling a little in his hug, but he holds you tighter, “I’m working right now. Cut it out.”

He lets go of you at that, sober enough from the adrenaline to realize you’re being serious, but he steps into your space so only you can hear him. “What? Are you embarrassed?”

“Of what?” Your face twists with confusion.

“Of me. Are you embarrassed of me?” he asks.

“No. Why would I be embarrassed of you?” you ask with sharpness.

“I don’t know, just, sometimes I feel like you’re always annoyed by me,” he says with a sigh. “It’s like, you’re really sweet sometimes, and then kinda rude out of nowhere, and it’s sort of messing with my head.”

You pout. “You were messing with my head for weeks.”

“And I’m sorry about that,” he quickly interjects, like he already knew you were brewing up that counterargument, “but you don’t have to act like you’re all disinterested and indifferent just to get back at me for it.” He places his hands on his hips and wipes his temple on the round part of his shoulder when he feels a drop of sweat trickle down from his hairline. “You don’t have to act embarrassed around me either.”

“I’m not embarrassed,” you deny, and your cheeks feel hot, and for some reason you feel angry. “In fact, I’m the one that should be asking you that question. Because I still very clearly remember that time you said I was just someone you know in front of your friends.”

He groans and tilts his head back with frustration. “Can you just let that go? Things have changed between us since then. Move on.” 

“You kissed me and then pretended I was just a stranger to you in front of your friends,” you grit as you cross your arms. “That’s the level of sincerity that I know from you, Satoru.”

“Oh, okay, so there’s nothing else I’ve done that shows you that I’m serious about you?” he asks rhetorically with incredulity, throwing his hands up in the air in disbelief.

No. That’s not true, not true at all. But he’s pissed you off now and so all logic was to the wind. “Doesn’t matter. If you’re not embarassed of me, and if you’re really serious about me this time, then fucking prove it.” You’re speaking out of spite, and you fear you’ve just set him off too.

“Fine,” he says, and he grabs the microphone straight out from a passing reporter’s hand, replacing it with a gatorade bottle. The reporter stares at the bottle he’s now holding with confusion. “I will.”

“W-Wait—” you squeak out, feeling the hair at the back of your neck bristle in anticipation and a shiver gets sent down your spine. The cheerleaders are making their way off the field at the end of their routine, and you can hear the thumps across the loud boisterous speakers when Gojo whacks his palm to the microphone to make sure the thing was on before he jogs to the center of the field.

The crowd is already cheering, ecstatic to see the afternoon's star player and pride & joy of their school, and Gojo takes a moment to soak in all the glory in comical appreciation with bowing towards all 360 degree angles of the stadium.

“Uhhh,” you hear Choso from beside you, who’s strapping his thick goalie gloves tightly to his wrists, “Why the fuck does Satoru have a microphone while standing in the middle of the field.”

“It can’t be for any publicly decent reason,” Geto muses.

All you can do is watch.

“Hi, uh,” Gojo starts, static blaring slightly across the speakers and the crowd winces with him, “sorry. I’m Satoru, Gojo Satoru, you might know me from—uh, the game you’ve been watching?”

Cheers all around, because as if a single person wouldn’t know who he is. The stands were rowdy and most definitely drunk off of sidestep beers the stadium has been serving all afternoon long. 

Gojo is about to continue speaking, when he catches sight of the table of recruiters in the corner of his eye and he turns to face them out of respect. “Oh, yeah, uh, number 10,” he tugs his jersey up at the shoulder to stretch out the fabric, the 1 and the 0 flattened in view, “division player ID 233-997. Coach Yaga keeps my business cards in his purse if you want one.”

“SAAAAATTOOORRUUUU!!!!!” you hear Coach Yaga yell from somewhere in the distance.

“Anywho,” Gojo continues, and the music dims slightly, so he glances at the stop clock on the screen, which shows him he’s got roughly five minutes left to pull off whatever idiocracy he had in mind before the second half of the game starts. “Just here to say that there’s this girl I really like.”

The crowd gets louder, almost deafening, and sonically mostly feminine in (delusional) hope he’s gonna name call one of them.

Gojo’s voice is crisp and clear through the speakers as he clarifies. “She’s standing over there,” he says as he nonchalantly points to your exact latitude and longitudinal direction, “with the big camera slung around her neck that looks like it could pull her down to the center of the earth. Yeah. She’s super cute and I really like talking to her.”

“Uh-oh,” Geto murmurs from beside you, and you glance at him to try to get a read on the situation but you can’t.

Gojo starts to pace across the center of the field now, like he’s working the crowd. “But get this—she thinks I’m not fuckin’ serious about her!!!”

The crowd groans with him in unison. Yep, most certainly drunk. Or high off of glee. Either way, he’s playing them like a violin.

“Huh?” Gojo’s voice sounds distant now, away from the mic, and you can see on the large pixelated screen that he’s being interrupted by someone that looks like one of the videographers, “oh, what’s that? This is being broadcasted? Uh-huh. Oh. I’m not allowed to cuss? Oh fuck, okay. Er— shit, okay. Wait—shoot, okay.”

Choso’s smirk is heard from beside you, and you catch Geto and Nanami shaking their heads in your periphery.

“LIKE I SAID,” Gojo continues into the mic, “the girl I like thinks I’m just messing around, so. Uh. To show her that I’m serious about her, I’m gonna…” He looks up at the sky to ponder, and you can hear people shouting all sorts of suggestions of nonsense from the crowd. And instead of saying proclaim my undying affection for her through a romantic soliloquy straight from my heart in the presence of the entire school, he says—“I’m gonna strip. Yes. Down to my tighty whities, Imma strip.”

H–

Huh?!?!?

You don’t even have time to be horrified or scared, you’re just bewildered beyond belief that that’s what he came up with.

What the fuck kind of reassurance did you ask for. And what the fuck kind of reassurance were you about to get?

The crowd goes wild, it’s no surprise to say everyone and their mothers wants to see him naked, even the straight dudes would dig it for the gym inspo. And he points straight to you, sleazy look on his face and you’re going to ignore the fact that he just winked at you too as he crosses his arms to hold the hem of his jersey and pulls it up over his head in the most raunchy and slutty way a man can take his shirt off.

The music manager is quick with the bit, and is most definitely a fellow Gen Z college student, because Justin Timberlake’s SexyBack (ft. Timbaland) starts playing across the speakers and the crowd goes ballistic.

“Ayo why’s Satoru Magic Mike’ing the field right now?” one of his other teammates calls out through a mouthful of protein bar, “What the fuck did I miss?”

The cameraman does God’s work in a hella zoom-in of Gojo’s sweat glistened abs, then pans up the naked expanse of the perfect taut skin across his chest, and you can’t help but stare even among all your horror. It’s like when a male bird embarrasses the fuck outta himself to attract a female bird sitting on a perch, except instead of within the context of a NatGeo documentary, this was your real life. Everyone wants him, but he’s making a fool out of himself for you. 

He pretends to stretch his arms up into the air, a cover-up to flex his biceps, and then he kicks his cleats off, and the socks come off too. Entirely unnecessary, as showing one's ankles is simply too slutty, but alas he’s a whore. And when his thumbs dip into the waistband of his shorts, and there’s anticipating screeching from the crowd, he finally gets chased by security. 

Except he’s an intercollegiate D1 athlete, why the fuck wouldn’t he be able to outrun a bunch of dudes in black?

The camerawork on him is phenomenal as he runs across the sidelines of the field, eliciting a wave down the bleachers. So good in fact that you’re pretty sure the camera man could shoot for the Olympic track and field, with the way the stadium’s got a clear sight of Gojo mouthing the lyrics Them other fuckers don’t know how to act from the song still blaring with satirical rage on his face as he makes a fool of the men chasing him around the perimeter of the field.

And then he does it, drops his shorts, discards them with a kick, and he’s down to his tighty whities as promised. Cameraman has got to be displaying some previously undiscovered level of talent as he zeroes in on a shot of said tighty whities, with Gojo’s—forgive me, I need to be crass—huge bulge prominent in Big Dick Energy fashion except his tighty whities have little red hearts in rows across the fabric so do with that duality what you will.

He’s outrun security with a steady grin on his face as he eats up the drunken crowd’s cheers and riots and roars and you feel like you’re the only sane person in this stadium, or maybe you’re just not used to the fanatics of a college sports crowd. You peep the men in black trailed all the way on the left side of the field where they abandoned their pursuit of Gojo.

He taps imaginary pockets at his thighs, very muscular thighs you take indulgence in noticing, as if he expected to find something there, and he looks around when he doesn’t. He shrugs and grabs the microphone of the next passing sports commentator he spots, and then he makes his way back to you.

His breathing is a little shallow, and he inhales deep to catch his breath. “Baby.” The crowd SCREAMS at the way he purrs the word into the mic. “Will you do me the honor,” he’s huffing and puffing, heard across blaring speakers, “of being my lawfully wedded girlfriend?” And then he holds the mic to your lips.

“W-Wha—” you stutter, and there’s chanting across the crowd with words that barely make sense until you finally realize they’ve started to yell say yes! say yes! say yes! “Oh my gosh, okay, yes, fine, now please, for the love of god, put some freaking clothes on!”

The crowd goes wild with cheerful glees, and Gojo shoots fists up in the air in celebration as he runs all the way towards the center of the field with high knees, and you’re gawking at the sight, before he falls backward onto the grass and makes delirious snow angels on the ground. You see Coach Yaga’s vein popping in his neck from pure agitation as he storms off towards the center of the field to knock some sense into Gojo, but you know that Coach Yaga can’t kick him out, because they still have a game to win. The perks of being the most valued player in the league is getting to act like an absolutely insane idiot because you know they still need you in the end to bring it home.

You glance to the right, seeing his teammates nodding slowly then getting back to wrapping athletic tape around ankles and stretching out shoulders, with immediate acceptance of his actions like it wasn’t even out of character for him to do. And you realize again that you don’t know Gojo as well as you think you do.

And then the halftime timer is up.

You see Gojo approach the benches in a quick jog, squeezing some water into his mouth with his green gatorade squirt bottle, and when your eyes flit up to the screens on all four entrances, you see that the cameramen are still all focused on him accompanied by the continued buzz of conversation among the crowd following his public spectacle. But he seems to already be past any semblance of embarrassment as he takes the attention with ease, before he glances up to make eye contact with you and then lightly jogs right up to you.

“Did that prove to you that I’m not embarrassed of you?” he asks you, cocking a brow with a smug look on his face as he gets all up in your personal space. 

“I don’t know, but I’m certainly thoroughly and expeditiously embarrassed of you now,” you say, cheeks feeling flush when he leans forward so he can make eye contact with you at eye level. “I’ll have to move to a different country.”

His grin is relaxed. “Yeah well you asked for it.”

“Maybe. But I underestimated what a lunatic you are.”

“You’re my girlfriend now, you’ve gotta get used to it.”

Your heart skips a beat in your chest. “Satoru–”

“Tomorrow,” he cuts you off, “Hinode pier. I’ll pick you up at six. It’s a date, so wear something cute. And preferably easy to take off.” And then he’s attentive to the chirp of the referee’s whistle in the air before jogging backwards towards the feel and eventually turns on his heel towards the field while you’re left with warm cheeks and a heart that felt like it was moving at a mile a minute.

The timer for the second half refreshes on the screen while you loosely hold your camera in your shaking hands. It occurs to you that you haven’t taken a single photo of him before the start of the kickoff, and so you bring the piece of consolidated metal up to your eyes, peering through the viewfinder and focusing it on the center of the field. And there he was. Your muse.

Gojo lets out a breath, which you can see even from here that it’s shaky and staggered with resistance, and he lifts his jersey up to swipe at the sweat trickling down his face as he eyes the ball underneath YCU’s player’s foot just prior to the start of the second half. There it was—that look again of pure focus. 

3-1, forty-five minutes on the clock. And the referee chirps the whistle to start the second half.

It’s immediately evident that YCU has returned to the field following halftime with renewed energy, pressing high down the flank relentlessly past UTokyo’s defense, so fast it was hard for anybody to even keep a steady eye on the ball with the fluidity of their passes. The persistence pays off in the fake double-pass that slips past Geto’s feet, a moment of hesitation in the broken flow of UTokyo’s defense, and one of YCU’s strikers has the perfect line of shot towards the goal before digging his foot under the ball and sending it flying towards the corner of the goal post, scoring themselves a goal within just the first five minutes of play.

3-2.

The pressure mounts at the next kickoff, and with about seven minutes of solid play, with back-and-forth passes, multiple attempts at both goal posts to no avail on either side, it was clear that exhaustion was bustling in the veins of all the players.

One of YCU’s offensive players seems to capitalize on this, jumping on a defensive lapse of a pass Nanami attempted to make towards Yuta, and the ball is swiftly stolen then raced back towards the goal post. Choso prepared himself at the line, light on his feet paired with a solid stance, but in a millisecond of a moment, YCU’s offense unexpectedly passes the ball to a player racing up the midfield, and the player chips the ball neatly into the exposed corner of the goal despite Choso’s attempt to lunge for it in mid air.

Equalized, 3-3 game, momentary shock across the players’ faces, and the crowd bustles with something that sounds less like glee and more life fear. YCU was prepared to live up to and hold onto their title as the league’s number one offense, and as Minato explained to you during your time working in this job, an offensive team isn’t good at scoring goals, but rather exceptional at breaking down the other team’s defense.

Your eyes zero in on Geto, who stands in the center of the field for kickoff, and he’s huffing and puffing. He's the lead of defense for the team, and you can only imagine the level of pressure he feels right now. He glances around to his players, over to Nanami who seemed to share the same level of exhaustion, and then he glances towards Gojo who stood in front of him off to the right. Except you notice that Gojo looks relaxed, albeit still exhausted, but there’s a composed expression on his face even in the moment of heightened stakes. With locked eyes, Geto nods at Gojo and raises two fingers up into the air to signal a play, of which Gojo seems to respond to by closing more distance between him and the goal post prior to the kickoff, positioning himself almost directly in front of it, to which YCU’s defense immediately begin to guard him in a tight radius. 

The kickoff begins, with Geto making a few passbacks with Nanami as they close distance towards the field before passing it off to UTokyo’s string of offense and then receding back to their defending goal. UTokyo continues to close distance, raising stakes for YCU as their defense begins to falter under pressure, and the ball gets passed to Gojo, who only keeps it in possession for less than three seconds before he passes it back to Yuuji, a risky decision to make in the second half of a semifinal match, but the first-year swiftly unleashes a powerful shot that rockets past YCU’s goalkeeper, up towards the corner, except–

It bounces off the metal of the goal post, shot off with projectile speed back towards the center of the field, but with razor-sharp reflexes, Gojo headbutts the ball in air, twists his torso and strikes the ball with his foot past a dumbfounded goalie who can’t even move an inch to guard the ball that he already knew was going to sink right into the goal, and that’s exactly what it does. 

The stadium erupts with the momentum.

4-3, UTokyo. 

It was a sweet moment, one you manage to capture on camera of Gojo running up to Yuuji and ruffling his hair in reassurance, despite the missed goal. Your heart feels warm in your chest, feeling your own sense of melancholy that this was one of the last times they’ll ever get to play together on a team. 

Your eyes widen when you glance at the scoreboard, realizing that he’s tied. Gojo is tied for the most goals scored during a championship match. There were less than three minutes left on the clock. UTokyo either preserves their lead, or they risk moving into overtime, which, judging by the exhaustion on the UTokyo players’ faces in the wake of YCU’s relentless offense this entire game, moving into overtime would be a hefty, hefty risk. 

YCU’s center forward takes his place in the center of the field, fire evident in his eyes as he glances across the field. YCU are light on their feet, channeling everything in their bodies into these last moments of the game as they prepare to start the kickoff. You glance across UTokyo’s players, and although they look spent, there was a resolute look to all of them. It wasn’t the time to give up or feel at ease even near the end of this grueling battle. Now was the time to play. 

The referee chirped his whistle, and the kickoff began.

YCU immediately presses hard, as all their other plays have been all game, in their desperation to score. You can already see UTokyo’s midfielders move sluggishly in comparison to YCU’s offense, a drag to their feet as YCU pushes past the first layer of defense towards their attacking goal. Geto takes an aggressive approach, making moves to steal the ball while Nanami and Yuta guarded both flanks, and there was a relentless pass-off happening that ate up more than a minute of the remaining time.

Nanami succeeds in stealing the ball, but immediately loses it under his feet by a YCU midfielder, who makes a broad pass down the sidelines to YCU’s star forward who then powerfully kicks the ball towards the unguarded area of their goal, a dangerous shot that was clear towards the crossbar and Choso makes a leap for it, high into the air, his glove brushing against the ball, the entire crowd holding their breath in anticipation–

And the ball lands in the net. 

4-4, tied game. With one minute and seventeen seconds left on the clock. 

There was no time wasted in getting back to center field. No time spent dwelling in the horrific roars of the crowd as they watch with anxiety and fear. No time spent to process or consider or signal any plays. Not even a single second used to catch breath. When there is this much at stake, an athlete thrives on momentum. 

To your surprise, Gojo isn’t the one that takes place at the center of the field to start the kickoff. Yuta stands there instead, and you notice his eyes are erratic as he surveys all corners of the field. 

The referee chirps his whistle. 

Yuta immediately passes it off to the side to UTokyo’s midfielder, who curls it towards their attacking goal with a swift pass to Ino, who closes distance towards the goal, but one of YCU’s defender slips in, undoing any progress they had made in their offense by stealing the ball and sending it back towards mid-field. Forty-three seconds. The crowd’s roars heightened as YCU continued to push forward, thirty yards now from scoring, and UTokyo’s defense was desperate to stop them but their momentum was cracking in the wake of their exhaustion. 

It was a moment you don’t think you could ever fully or truly recall, one that you wish you had focused all your energy and attention to so that you could commit it to memory for the rest of your life. The image of Gojo pushing all the way to ten yards before their defending goal, a place where no center forward should really be at in a game like this, but it was exactly what their defense needed. It was exactly what the team needed. It was exactly what the school needed. For the ball to be in his possession.

With twenty-two seconds left on the clock, he steals the ball from right under YCU’s offensive feet, and then charges towards the opposite side of the field. The crowd rises to their feet, thunderous roaring that overtook any and all senses, as Gojo weaves through forwards, center forwards, midfielders, and defenders, covering the entire span of the field in lightning time. Fifty yards, forty yards, thirty yards, twenty hards, ten yards–

In a moment you couldn’t believe, he digs his foot underneath the ball, and sends it flying out towards the goal. There was not even a margin of an inch in which it slipped past the goalie’s hands, past his head, and swiftly flew right into the net.

With three-two-one seconds, the match was over. 

5-4, UTokyo’s win.

The final whistle blew, and for a moment, there was silence. As if the world paused to catch its breath. Then, all at once, the crowd erupted with glee that shook the entire stadium at its core. Flags waving, scarves held high, toasts of beer held up to the sky, it was deafening, and it almost makes you want to cry. Thousands of voices shouting in unison, celebrating the hard-fought victory of their school’s team. A type of pride that was fostered, and well-deserved, and long-lived.

You quickly glance towards the field again, and see Gojo standing right at the same spot where he had kicked the last and final goal, staring towards the net. You can’t see the expression on his face, but it surprises you how still he is. Like a statue, staring at the goal with the ball tucked into its corner. The very epitome of what it means to succeed in this sport was right in front of him, and it seemed like he wanted to soak the visual in for as long as he could.

His trance is abruptly interrupted when his teammates swarm in, rushing over like a wave of pure adrenaline. They slap him on the back, ruffle his hair, shout his name, the sounds of gleeful disbelief mixed with exhausted sighs of relief swarming into the air. And Gojo finally melts away from the tension of the match and into the celebration as he weakly returns the embraces of his teammates while he catches his breath. 

“IT’S OFFICIAL!! IT’S OFFICIAL!! UTOKYO’S VERY OWN GOJO SATORU HAS OBLITERATED OSAKA UNIVERSITY’S RECORD FOR MOST GOALS SCORED BY A SINGLE PLAYER IN A CHAMPIONSHIP MATCH!!” 

The speakers are blaring the voices of the sports announcers, along with ambient music to match the intensity of the match that everyone had just witnessed. 

You should probably be doing your job. You know, take a picture of the huddle of players on the field as they bask in the glory of a close victory, but instead your feet start moving on their own. Like a magnet drawn to him, you make your way towards Gojo, only a slight hesitation in your step as you stop about ten feet away, suddenly unsure. But when he makes eye contact with you, all that fear melts away.

He hastily pats the backs of some of his teammates, acknowledging their praise at the center of the huddle before tightly squeezing past them to make his way over to you. Your heart is beating fast in your chest, feeling an almost overwhelming sense of pride in your school’s team, but more importantly, in him. What was the acceptable thing to do? Run to him, into his arms, and hug him while he twirls you around? Tackle him to the grassy ground? Kiss him like your life depended on it? You have no clue what the acceptable or sane or normal thing to do is. But he’s made his decision for you when he walks right up to you, his hands holding your waist as he pulls you towards him. He smells earthy, of grass and salt and sweat and of all the hard work he poured into today, the wear and tear of the game evident in the wear and tear of his jersey. He only manages to huff out an exhale at the sight of you, like some relief washing over him just by looking into your eyes. Forget the fact that the crowd was all watching and that all of the screens you could see past his head were focused on the two of you, because all you could hear or see or think was him.

“I believe you owe me a kiss,” he says, huffing as he catches his breath but that doesn’t stop the smile that makes its way onto his face.

You nod your head, giving him your own version of a sweet smile as your arms slide up past his shoulders, crossing behind his neck, and he leans down to kiss you.

You hear a swell from the crowd, some teasing comments off in the distance from some of his teammates, you’re pretty sure you hear Coach Yaga yelling at him to get back to the benches, but it all melts away with the feeling of him smiling against your lips as he kisses you at the center of this stadium.

It was a moment so pure, so sweet, so picture perfect, and for once, you’re not the one behind the camera taking the photo. You’re the one that’s in it.

.

.

.

.

.

[end of kickoff ch12]

a/n. aaa thanks a lot for reading!! pls the fucking public stripping scene was so stupid i apologize on behalf of kickoff gojo for his behavior 😂😂 i’ll put him in his cage dw this chapter had some of what i consider to be the most challenging aspects of writing for me (internal conflict, grand public gesture, sports jargon) and so writing it felt like an uphill battle the ENTIRE time i wrote it and edited it. i considered scrapping it sooo many times cuz i just wasn't happy w it...but whatever i can't expect to be 100% happy w every chapter i put out there haha. i think kickoff has become a lil sacred for me since i've been working on it for a while now but likeee...sometimes u just gotta say fuck it we ball (tbh kickoff gojo probably says that to himself before a match) anywho, i am veryy thoroughly excited for what i've got planned for the chapters to follow, especially moving into the last angsty arc before the end of the series!! so i look forward to picking up momentum w this series again :0 honestly chapters 10 through 12 were the most difficult things i've written so far for a lot of reasons, but i have a feeling things will go more smoothly for me creatively going forward since what i've got planned falls well within my writing comfort range oh also there seems to be a little confusion about the number of chapters left, as i know i had originally said 12, but i anticipate that there will be about 18 chapters of kickoff total!! so still around six chapters left before the end :)) much lovee thanks for reading!!

OH WAIT ONE LAST NOTE I'M SORRY i didn’t really have a way of organically incorporating this into the story n i’m not sure if i’ll get a chance to in the upcoming chapters, so i just wanted to share this part of ch7 (gojo’s pov chapter) that is relevant to this chapter:

During the thrilling semifinal match between Keio Uni, Gojo’s father’s team, and Yokohama Uni during the end of his senior year, spectators witnessed a game that most college soccer enthusiasts would deem was a once-in-a-lifetime watch. Both teams engaged in relentless offense, and Gojo’s father was on his way to shatter the record of the most goals scored in a single championship match within the history of the league, but when he received a call from his wife during a timeout with the most life-altering news he could have ever heard, he abandoned everything on the field that day to go home and be with her. Grainy footage from the televised broadcast still exists online today—the moment he sprinted across the field, confused players glancing in his direction, amidst the uproar of the crowd. She called to let him know she was pregnant. 

the record that gojo broke in this chapter is the same record that his father almost broke before he got the call that he was going to be a dad :0 

➸ you're all caught up!

additional notes. please do not pressure me for updates or ask when i will next update (read rules); taglist is currently closed (consider subscribing to the story on my ao3 for email updates if you'd like! :0)

taglist:

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[fandom]

Normally we'd make a joke about Good Omens here but we're still too emotionally fragile about it to do so.

The long-awaited second season of Good Omens is finally out on @primevideo, and, well, it's gonna be a long wait for season three. Thanks to all the fan artists and fic writers who will hold us over until then. The Miraculous: Tales of Ladybug & Cat Noir movie premiered on @netflix, and fans are delighting in drawing comparisons with the show. Five Nights at Freddy's Ruin DLC dropped, so we hope all y'all are enjoying all the new frightening gameplay. One of the most anticipated manga chapters of Jujutsu Kaisen was animated in the latest episode, while the manga itself has been a continual spiral of mind-blowing fights. The trailer for the film adaptation of Red, White, & Royal Blue is whipping fans into a tizzy. Finally, Twitter is X now. Sure. This is Tumblr's Week in Review.

Good Omens

Barbie

Twitter

Five Nights at Freddy's

Ineffable Husbands | Aziraphale & Crowley, Good Omens

Elon Musk

Miraculous: Tales of Ladybug & Cat Noir

Barbenheimer

Crowley | Good Omens

The Witcher

Aziraphale | Good Omens

Oppenheimer

Artists on Tumblr

Margot Robbie

The Welcome Home ARG

Jujutsu Kaisen

Ryan Gosling

The Dragon Prince

Red, White & Royal Blue

Greta Gerwig

[formulawolff]

"just one dance" - t.w.

pairing: horner's daughter!reader x toto wolff

word count: 1.9k

warnings: toto lusting after a woman thirty years younger than him (what's new on this blog lmfao), sexual references, maybe some cursing (idrk), mentions of drug use, alcohol use, flirting, banter, yadayadayada

a/n: i played "here" by alessia cara like 20x on repeat while writing this fic. so we could say that this fic is veryyyyy loosely inspired by that song. also! this was a request by an anon! i hope y'all enjoy! <3

"come on," the words as slurred as he rolls his eyes, "come dance with us!"

bringing your hand to your mouth, you stifle a giggle, "max, for the last time, i am not joining the horny middle school grind circle you guys have going on over there."

"it's not a grind circle," he puts his hands on his hips, "i would say it's more like a mosh pit."

which, given the occasion, was not quite appropriate either.

at the moment, you were perched at one of the many elegant banquet tables, the rigid surfaced draped with a thick, cream-colored tablecloth. adorning the table were numerous vases, filled to the brim with floral arrangements, their fragrance oh so sickeningly sweet.

the plates, utensils, and other various dining ware were now cleared, only leaving numerous wine glasses, their crystalline stems glimmering in the dim light, swathed by the golden hue of the chandeliers as they sparkle above.

this was the annual fia prize gala, one of the most coveted events of the season. it was the showcasing and peacocking of sheer and utter wealth, as the drivers got to pull up to in their luxury vehicles, their keys handed off to the valets. every individual was dressed head to toe in designer clothing from nearly every brand possible, from christian dior to saint laurent.

you lost track of the amount of rolex watches, cartier jewelry, and hermès bags you noticed throughout the course of the evening.

the main event wrapped up hours ago, leaving the rest of the night for the drivers, crew members, mechanics, engineers, executives, and team principals to mingle and dance. and well, consume copious amounts of alcohol.

and well, perhaps do a few lines in the restroom. or light a joint outside. maybe even pop a few pills.

with the exuberant amounts of cash involved with events like this, there were surely some illicit affairs. ones that the fia ignored, simply turning their heads.

if they didn't see it, it didn't happen.

after all, you were in monaco. it was like las vegas in a way.

what happened in monaco, stayed in monaco.

and here max verstappen was, three-time world champion, standing before you, so drunk he could barely walk, begging for you to come join him on the dance floor.

too bad your phone was almost dead.

this would have been a prime opportunity to record what was unfolding before you. it would have fed the max girlies all over instagram and tik tok for months.

glancing over max's shoulder, you pick out lando, oscar, charles, and carlos. they were apart of the large formation, jumping up and down, barreling into one another. alexandra, rebecca, and lily linger around the group, their gowns swishing as they laugh, their cheeks dusted with a bubblegum pink glow.

a drunken mosh pit with a bunch of sweaty men? no thank you.

but gossiping with the girls? that was more your speed.

"my dad would have a stroke if he caught me with you guys," you simply shrug, sipping on your wine, "and what if something happened to my dress? we have to return this, you know."

"ugh," the dutch driver groans, "you're no fun."

"hallo, max," a new voice cuts in, thick with an accent you can't quite place your finger on, "congratulations on your accomplishment this year!"

shifting in your chair is none other than torger christian wolff, better known as toto wolff, team prinicipal of mercedes.

your heart skips a beat as your eyes drink in the sight of him, the way his crisp tuxedo fit him effortlessly. his dark brunette hair was messy, more than likely from the events of the evening. his bowtie was untied, hanging loosely around his neck. the first few buttons of the snowy white dress shirt were undone, exposing his skin.

fuck, was he a gorgeous man.

with sharp cheekbones, a chiseled jawline, and wide, beautiful coffee brown eyes, he knew that he was attractive, his aura brimmed with nothing but sexiness and dominance.

his hands land on the chair beside you, pulling it out as max rambles, the words drowning out in your ears.

you were more focused on his stature as he sits to your right, his thighs spread in the chair, a hand running through his hair.

"is there a reason why i haven't seen you on the dance floor?"

due to the excessive volume of the music, his mouth hovers by your ear. a shiver runs down your spine as his eyes lock with yours, lips forming a radiant smile, flashing his perfect pearlescent teeth.

"cat got your tongue? or are you just as intoxicated as maxie boy over there?"

"neither," you counter, straightening in your chair, "just not really interested, that's all."

"did daddy not give his precious diamond any dance lessons growing up?"

your father was none other than christian horner, team principal of red bull racing, sworn enemy of toto wolff.

quickly, your eyes scan your surroundings, in an attempt to pick out your father among the throng of people. to your dismay, you cannot find him.

which, in this case, could be a good thing.

if he saw toto speaking to you? oh fuck. it would be game over. you'd probably be grounded at your big age of twenty-four years old. could parents even do that when you were an adult?

you didn't really want to find out.

yet, you couldn't turn down a few moments with the team principal.

after all, this was a once in a lifetime opportunity.

why not seize it?

for most of your life, you obeyed every single one of your father's wishes. you maintained your distance from the red bull drivers, careful not to get too close. you stayed out of the spotlight, ensuring that no negative publicity ever came his way. as much as you yearned to get to know members of the mercedes team or crew, you shied away, maintaining the promise that you would never befriend a rival.

so, for this one night, you could be a little selfish.

just this once.

even if it involved your father's biggest foe. the bane of his existence. the man he spoked about so bitterly for years on end.

"i was offered dance lessons, actually," your voice is melodic, like an angel's from the heavens above, "i turned them down. opted for horseback riding instead."

"so you know how to ride?" the team principal runs a tongue along his lower lip, his brow slightly raised, "well, i have an offer for you. one dance with me, and then later you can show me how well you can ride."

"and what am i going to be riding?" you inquire, folding your arms across your chest.

the corners of his lips curl into a devious smirk, an emotion glinting within the mocha depths as he leans in, "my cock."

heat flourishes into your cheeks, seeping all throughout your body. as your mind scrambles, struggling to formulate some sort of witty response, the team principal nods, "not expecting that, were you? i like seeing you like this, all flustered. it's cute."

"y-you're ridiculous," you manage to sputter out, hands instinctively shielding your face.

"not as ridiculous as any of those fools," his head motions towards the group of rambunctious drivers, "tell me, why aren't you with any of them? i'm sure maxie boy would love to take you on a date. lando too."

"just not interested," you shrug, regaining your confidence a tad, "don't get me wrong, they've asked. but i've always just turned them down."

toto cocks his head, his voice laced with a tease, "why? scared daddy is going to ground you for dating a driver?"

"i just rather wouldn't be involved with anyone of them romantically," you wave a hand, "it'd be too awkward if things didn't end up working out. could you imagine having to spend so much time at the paddock with someone who your dad could fire at any given moment? it'd be like walking on eggshells. i'd feel bad for any poor soul who wants to court me. they'd constantly be seeking my father's approval, on and off the track."

"well it's a good thing that i already know where i stand," toto shoots you a wink, your heart thudding against your rib-cage as he offers you his hand, "come on, just one dance. that's all i ask of you, gorgeous girl. one dance and then you can come right back over here, spending the rest of your night sulking in the corner."

"i haven't been sulking," you snort, accepting the gesture, "i've just been bored."

"how about you accept the other half of my offer then?" his accent is prominent, lingering in every word, "i've just been flirting, you don't really have to ride me. unless you know, you want to-"

"are you forgetting that we're in a very public space?" you hiss, elbow interlocked with his as you make your way to the dance floor, "people can probably hear you."

"good thing we're all drunk," he responds, the casual delivery sending you spiraling, "here, place your hand on my shoulder. i'll take this hand. the other will go on your waist."

as you follow his lead, you can't help but feel the pairs of eyes fixate on the two of you, murmurs rising above the music. yet, toto's focus is honed in on you, and only you.

"don't worry about them," he takes a step forward, your feet following in suit, "they're probably just envious that i'm with the most coveted woman in all of formula one."

"you don't mean that."

"oh schatzi," a chuckle rumbles in his chest, flowing from his lips, "do you not hear the things they say about you among the paddocks?"

"enlighten me then," your heart swells as his thumb tenderly kneads into your waist, fingers interlocking with yours.

his mouth is merely centimeters away from yours now, dimples apparent as his eyes glitter like the chandeliers above, "there's whispers that you are the most breathtaking woman in the world. the drivers talk about you all of the time, debating who would look the best by your side. you're a hot commodity. a prize to be won."

"people say those things about me?"

"would i ever lie to you?" toto arched a brow, "i have no reason to."

"that is true."

there's a twinge of resentment that bubbles up in your stomach as the song ends. oh how this moment ended too soon.

way too soon.

"still no sign of your father," toto's voice is hushed, barely audible over the music, "you think i could have you for just one more song? after that, i promise i'll leave you be."

"i think so," you feel a smile form the moment he pulls you in closer, the space between you crumbling away, "careful, mr. wolff. you need to maintain some sort of distance between us, remember?"

he shakes his head, fingers squeezing your waist, "right now, i could give any fucks what your father would think. he's lucky that i have some sort of self-control."

"and why is that?" you press, blood roaring in your ears as his head lowers, situated by your ear.

"because it is taking everything within me to keep myself from getting on my knees right this instant and lifting up that gown of yours."

[arkhammaid]

— ˚₊‧⁺˖ THE LIGHTNING ON TRACK | THE WAIT FOR THE FIRST RACE

fandom. formula one & mcu

about. the waiting time between pre-season testing and first race is being filled

content warnings. the girls (men) are fighting and y/n gets a reality check

notes. another chat chapter because you guys liked it lol

george russell Welcome, @/oliverbearman and @/ynstark to the main Grid Chat. I will add you to the other ones as well.

daniel ricciardo WELCOME!!! We're so happy to finally have you here

Also, @/kevinmagnussen, welcome back you ass

Don't leave any groupchats again, it's a pain to add you back

george russell Considering I have to do the work, you're not allowed to complain Daniel

lando norris booo, let him have the fun

nico hülkenberg Oh no, it starts again. I'll mute you asshats if you don't stop this

lando norris you're just boring

oliver bearman thank you guys! very happy and honored to be finally part of the big guys 🫣

y/n stark thank you, george! and i'm excited to officially meet you all, until then, hello :)

charles leclerc Hello y/n, welcome to the grid! I hope you'll enjoy your stay here 😉

y/n stark thank you charles, i'm sure i will lol

kevin magnussen I swear I will block you all

daniel ricciardo Don't be like that, you love us

y/n stark lol, he actually hates you guys, won't stop whining kevin magnussen One day, young lady, one day... y/n stark y'all hear sum? charles leclerc Gagged. lando norris charles???

carlos sainz Can you guys just shut up for once, dios mio.

charles leclerc Aww, Carlos, you love us! carlos sainz Debatable. Sometimes I wish you would all crash and not survive to be honest oscar piastri We get it, you're an asshole carlos sainz Fuck off Piastri oscar piastri Right back at you Sainz

lewishamilton welcome to our new rookies! ollie, awesome to see you again, y/n, don't be a stranger, we haven't talked in ages!

y/n stark lew!! we defo have to, gonna hit you up for fashion show for sure, pepper has been planning something pierre gasly Lew 👀 y/n stark look who's here... the tripod.... pierre gasly Yeah yeah, shutting up. Welcome to the grid y/n y/n stark thank you pierre

sergio perez Welcome, rookies.

max verstappen From me a welcome as well!

esteban ocon Welcome, welcome!! This is so exciting, I've been waiting for a long time now 😋😋

lance stroll Estie??? esteban ocon Shht, Lancey, let me cook lance stroll 💀💀💀

lance stroll Anyways, all of them are idiots, as we already know, welcome to hell, y/n

y/n stark aww, thank you lance. so sorry you have to go throught this 🫂 charles leclerc We're not so bad?? lewis hamilton Well. charles leclerc Oh come on Lewis lewis hamilton I didn't say anything

fernando alonso Stark and Bearman! Welcome to the coolest people on the paddock 😎

oliver bearman thanks fernando! y/n stark thanks nando 😎

alexander albon Hi guys, so nice to see you finally in here! @/georgerussell you took your sweet time man

george russell You be Head of the GPDA then. alexander albon No thank you, I'm fine 🙃

logan sargeant Welcome, welcome, happy to see some new faces!

oscar piastri They're finally here. Welcome back Ollie and welcome Y/n to this shit hole

lando norris you know what osc? oscar piastri No, and I don't care. Save the talking for the track lando norris you do know i'm still zak's favorite driver? i could get you fired oscar piastri Please don't. charles leclerc This is what you get for lying in an interview. No groupchat with all of us is ever formal oscar piastri This literally isn't about you Charles charles leclerc Boo, you hater

y/n stark @/kevinmagnussen i see what you've said now...

kevin magnussen Never ever doubt me again, I've been with those fuckers for years now daniel ricciardo Hey!! That's not nice yuki tsunoda you know what else is not nice ricciardo? daniel ricciardo Yuki, drop it. Team orders are team orders yuki tsunoda i don't give a fuck old man, you behave like a bitch you get bitch behavior max verstappen Drop it or else I'll involve Helmut. yuki tsunoda fuck you dan-cocksucker max verstappen Yuki. We don't carry out team issues to the grid. yuki tsunoda he started first and i have proof daniel ricciardo I don't know why you're being so dramatic, it was only testing yuki tsunoda i give you dramatic you fucking asshole. you know what you did and i stand by my statement that this was a total asshole move. just because you got a big smile doesn't mean you're fooling everyone fucking ass george russell I will both kick you out if you don't drop this immediately.

carlos sainz And it starts again...

valterri bottas You're all children. Stop it

y/n stark so pierre was right huh 😀

kevin magnussen I told you so. pierre gasly Why am I getting involved in shit again?

zhou ganyu I apologize for their behavior. Y/n, Oliver, welcome to the grid, I'll be excited to race you both!

kev

are they actually children because wtf did i just witness.

Yeah... I told you drivers are dramatic. Well, most of them and other's are just their victims. Of course we have our moments and friendships but it's a ruthless sport

man tf. literal man children. i'm so glad i have you as a teammate kev. like seriously. i don't know if i could survive with someone like daniel or carlos

the passive agressive vibes <<<<

that's just not it tbh

I have no idea what you just said but I agree. Daniel and Yuki are not good teammates, it was already bad last year and now this.

To be honest, Nico and I often missed stuff like that since we were stuck at Haas and the upper dogs never really showed interest in what we thought or did but everyone knew what happened between them

pls don't tell me they have a clique here... oh my god and i thought the rumors were false

I mean.. not really but also kinda yes? Better drivers stick together since they're always spending time together, you know. No one cares about the ones who're limping behind, well besides Pierre and Esteban, but they're only kinda involved because they're close to Charles and Lance. And Lewis and Fernando aren't really on their level, they keep to themselves

why are men problematic

not you obvs, but like... jeez really felt the love here when we got welcomed

Welcome to F1 kid, it's a shithole

thanks, it's so lovely here

dad?

i think it's worse than we thought

Honey, what are you talking about?

everything. you should see the group chat with the drivers right now. i thought people were joking about f1 drivers being bitter and bitchy towards each other, but there are literally groups and alliances or whatever the fuck is going on there

and if that's only the drivers... i don't want to know how the teams are

Oh.

but also like, what is that going to stop us? we made plans, we know what to do but dear lord are men stupid. well not all but most of them. i literally had to watch how yuki and daniel were fighting because of a team issue in the GROUPCHAT with all drivers

and when max told them to drop it, he got called a dan-cocksucker, can you imagine??

everyone seems to know why they're fighting besides me and ollie, i knew there was tension in alpha tauri but this?? it's a new level of what the fuck is going on here

Are you alright?

i am

just

yk had to tell someone who's not kev since he has been involved in this forever and is used to it. but i still thought

well idk what i thought, maybe i'm just stupid for my wishful thinking

should've known all of this was pr and that most rumors are true. it will make our lives a bit harder

Don't worry, no matter what they throw against us, it's no alien invasion. They're just whiny little men after all and I'm literally Iron Man

i know dad

love you. and thank you

Of course, anything for you

taglist. @lilypadlover , @adorablezhui , @peqch-pie , @keyz-writes , @obsidianjewel, @themercyverse , @lem-hhn , @akiraquote , @kiiyoooo , @nichmeddar , @nothingfuninthislife , @minkyungseokie , @fionaschicken , @lyrasconstellation , @spideybv28 , @keii134 , @starssfall , @tpwkstiles , @fangirl-dot-com , @lady-laura-speaks , @nikfigueiredo , @hinamesgigantica , @brakingboundaries , @almostjollypizza , @yoremins , @raizelchrysanderoctavius , @celesteblack08 , @watermelon-sugars-things , @lighttsoutlewis , @radiantdanvers , @vellicora , @sterredem , @hiireadstuff , @jolixtreesunn , @mypage-myfandoms , @nelly187 @greeneyesandsunshine , @fulla02 , @welovediaaxx , @whyamireadingthis , @67-angelofthelordme-67 , @blueberry64857959 , @winchesterwife27 , @six-call , @skywalker1dream , @mellowarcadefun , @cherry-piee , @peterholland04 , @motorsportloverf1 , @renarots , @msbyjackal , @woozart , @leclucklerc , @yl90 , @thebook-bitch

crossed off tags mean i can't tag you!

DO YOU WANT TO JOIN THE SERIES TAGLIST? please leave a comment on this post or send a non anonymous ask!

ARKHAM MAID 2024

[mechaknight-98]

Home Run (NSFW) Ft. Sohee

The winner of poll for Wednesday’s fic. Hope y'all enjoy.

Sohee had always loved baseball for the entirety of your relationship. It was so all-consuming that you often wondered if she loved the "sport" more than you. You couldn't stand the sport however mostly because of its glacial pace, and lack of stacks in moment-to-moment play. Rugby was more your speed, but you learned the tells and watched 4 full seasons of Eagles games. at this point, you knew the sport almost inside and out begrudgingly, but you loved Sohee and she did make it worth your while. when watching the last game of the season you partially zoned out as a new game on the switch came out. so you were enjoying that Muted so Sohee could get the full experience of watching her team. As the game winded down you looked towards the stat sheet to catch up on what was going on.

"Ugh well, there goes our chance at playoffs." Sohee groaned indicating that both the game and her team's season were over.

Absent you say, "Their playoff hopes were dashed ages ago and until they do something about their offensive play then they will continue to fall behind the pack."

Sohee turns to you surprised, "How do you know this she challenged

"Well, defensively they are great 12 strikeouts to 8 is insane, they also had a similar number of at-bats, hits, and batting averages. the disparity comes in runs batted in and bases on ball which contributed to an early lead for the Giants that was just too much to overcome. You explained without looking up from your switch.

"but other games have been closer!" Sohee asserted confidently.

at this point, you look up from your switch to smile at your lovely girlfriend and say, "Baby I love you but your team finished 9 out of 10 in the rankings this year. I know you say it's not a "numbers" game and there is more to it than stats but in this specific case the numbers don't lie." To soften the sting you kiss her cheek.

Sohee smiles and says, "Since when did you become an expert on my team."

"Babe," you groan, "We have watched this entire season. Now I know they are not the same team as last year but at least for this season, they had offensive issues. That much is apparent with how many games ended in one-sided games of 7-2 or 8-0, or..." Sohee seeing your point kisses you before you start running more numbers off. Quiet as it's kept she would always get so turned on when you talked baseball. She was dripping wet when she straddled you as the kiss languished into a full make-out.

"Someone's feeling frisky." you tease.

"I just can't help it. When my boyfriend knows his stuff it makes me all excited." Sohee replies demurely, she would never admit it to you but whenever you started getting super into the stats and numbers her head would begin to spin with arousal and she always had to resist the urge to just drain you then and there. Today though you were both off for the next couple of days so she could fuck you as long as she wanted. She began the horizontal tango by pushing down on the couch as she began to kiss you more fervently.

"Um, babe I hate to kill the mood but can I ask that you give me one second to let go of the switch." You asked as she broke the kiss to breathe.

"hm," Sohee huffed.

"Hey I can't massage your ass the way you like if I don't have both my hands." you tease. Sohee smiled gleefully and let you go. you run to the dock to place your switch before going back to her, and she wastes no time returning to her attack on your body, but you are not merely prey. you counterattack her kisses of your neck and collarbone by massaging her bountiful rump. She mewls in pleasure eager to egg you on. As the two of you kiss her tongue is the first to explore your mouth. She draws you in and refuses to relinquish control as she has her tongue dance along the whole of your mouth. when she breaks the kiss to breathe a trail of saliva links the two of you together still Sohee licks her lips and purrs before unfastening your belt. You groan in pleasure as she fishes out your cock and begins to suck on it. you try not to push her down as her cheeks hollow and she takes you further than ever, but the comfort and warmth of her throat cause you to buck your hips which leads to a further loss of control as you begin to relentlessly fuck her throat. You watch as your girlfriend's eyes roll back as you continue to use her throat to pleasure you. the sounds of gags break the silence of your shared apartment, as she submits to you wholly and completely. You continue to use her throat with reckless abandon

You don't stop until you feel your release and cum down her throat. As you sense, you see Sohee stare at you with a look she has never displayed before. She gets up and smiles at you lustfully. "You like using me like a little fuckdoll?" she says with angered lust.

"You like just using my throat like it's your toy?" she pressures. She begins to corner you and of course, this leads to the bedroom. she pushes you down and begins to suck your cock again. you groan as she takes you down her throat, but this time it's different as she begins to manipulate her throat muscles in a way that's foreign but insane to you.

"Oh God," you scream as Sohee works over your cock. Sohee smiles and eggs you on

"You gonna cum for mommy. Come on cum down Mommy's throat like the good boy you are and I just might let you fuck my pussy." You can't hold out much longer as Sohee continues to relentlessly suck and gorge herself on your rod before you cum again, but she's not done with you yet. she begins to rub your cock to get it hard again

Your overwhelmed body barely can stop the moan of pleasure and discomfort as Sohee takes you inside. She smiles at Sickly while watching you squirm under her.

“Babe please stop,” you beg but Sohee begins to ride you oblivious to your discomfort she chases her high.

“Oh I just love how you fill me up,” she says as she begins her deadly body roll her tight tummy hypnotizes you as she continues grinding on your cock. She continues to chase her release despite your protests. You groan and wince as she pushes you further and further past your

limits, while she loses herself more and more to pleasure. Eventually, you pass out.

When you wake up your head is pounding as you feel something wet and tight on your crotch it's Sohee. She's passed out while you're still inside her. You chuckle and adjust so the two of you can cuddle together. When you get into a comfortable position Sohee nestles closer.

“I may not know baseball but you are my favorite home run,” you say as you fall asleep again

[maxlarens]

driver!reader and engineer!george spiel:

I can just imagine if driver had a tyre blowout or smth George just becomes so apologetic and feels terrible-

“I’m so sorry I didn’t notice it in the data-“

*driver sighs* “for the a thousandth time, it wasn’t your fault.”

also when driver first moved to the team George had no idea how to comfort them after a bad race, unsure if they wanted space, or just someone to be with them. George decides to keep his distance until one race where driver just sighs and mutters “stay…please.” George’s heart melts and combusts simultaneously at this.

i love this it’s so sweet!!!! hope y'all enjoy!!! i feel so bad for not posting anything recently so i wrote this sooo quickly before i had to get ready for work lol😵‍💫😵‍💫

You know the disqualification wasn’t your fault.

You know that. How could it possibly be your fault anyway? Sure, if you twist it into something utterly unrecognisable you could make it into a personal failing. But you’re trying not to blame yourself for every little thing, and you’re trying hard not to micromanage.

You’re new at Mercedes anyway, you don’t want to come off too strong. Scare them off before they start to really trust you. It's a miracle in and of itself that you're here. A rookie driver, a woman, at Mercedes of all teams. Alongside Lewis Hamilton. You've got Susie and Toto Wolff to thank for that you suppose.

Anyway, you're trying hard not to think about the car just on the other side of the wall. Trying not to grab a tape measure and measure the chassis yourself. Like you'll find anything different than the FIA, like it'll change anything at all.

It's only P8 after all— four points— which is four points you'd have really liked to have to your name. Especially so early on in your rookie season. Toto knows that, had been apologetic on behalf of the team during the debriefing. You'd understood.

You'd tried to understand at least.

He'd said it wouldn't happen again.

Still, it hurts. There this ache in your chest that makes it feel like your hopes and dreams are slipping away through your fingers. This was the first race you felt you'd really begun to prove yourself and your position on this team and now everyone will be able to point to the disqualification and say this is why. She doesn't have the raw skill, it's because of the car—

"There's next week."

You snap your head up, startled at the noise. It's George, in the doorway. You'd not heard him come in, too busy navel-gazing, feeling sorry for yourself. God, you're pathetic.

"Hm", you question, trying not to let on that you're utterly miserable.

"There's next week," he repeats, inching into the room and closing the door gently behind him, "You'll do it again next week."

Your mouth twists involuntarily, skeptical. Even though you know it wasn't you. It was the car, it was some silly mistake from the warehouse. You couldn't have done anything. It just inexplicably feels like the world is crumbling in on you and you can't figure out why.

"You think?"

George nods, expression serious, a little harrowed. But sympathetic, like he understands, like he knows how it feels. You're inclined to believe that he does, he'd not given you a reason to think otherwise in the six odd months you've known him.

"Pretty sure," he says in such a way that you're sure he means 'unequivocally yes', like he believes in you wholeheartedly, like he'd never doubt you.

You're not sure what you've done to deserve that from him. This unwavering loyalty to you that he seems to have already. You just know you feel it too. Inexplicably.

You watch him, long-limbed and slightly out of place, shifting from foot to foot under your stare. He makes a move to leave after a long minute, giving you a cursory nod— you feel something open up in your chest at the thought of him leaving right. Some pit of yearning, some ache that you cant quite place.

"Wait," you say, feeling brave.

His hand falls from the door knob, he turns, tilting his head at you in question. His eyebrows furrowed.

"Would you stay? For a bit?"

He's nodding before you've got the words out, crossing the room to sit next to you on the couch. Not too close, but enough that you can feel the body heat radiating off him, smell him, a little sweaty from being out on the pit-lane, but mostly the smell of his cologne.

"Yeah," he says gently, "Of course, I can."

You nod in thanks, feeling a little exposed, a little vulnerable from your shame, from begging for a friend in him.

"Thank you, George. I just—" don't have anyone else, you don't say, feeling like that might be too far. Instead you let you sentence taper off and sigh, letting some tension leech out of you, "Yeah."

George moves closer, fractionally. Feeling brave again, you lean your head onto his shoulder, hoping he doesn't mind too much. You decide he doesn't when his arm comes around so he can rub little comforting circles into the top of your shoulder.

Slowly but surely, you feel all the anger and the sadness make way for some warm fuzzy feeling in your stomach. From then on, George becomes a regular fixture in your driver's room, especially post-race, especially when you feel like your heart has been stomped on. It's hard to feel like shit when George acts like you're capable of anything.

headcanon: george is a former driver turned engineer!

[inthelittlewood]

I don't know how much behind-the-scenes metrics you're able to share, but have you or any of the other Life Series members seen a notable uptick in overall views this season?

It seems like Secret Life, more than any other life series so far, has encouraged watching many POVs due to the nature of the tasks - I've seen a lot of anecdotal commentary from fellow fans saying they're finding themselves watching people they don't usually regularly tune in for. I hope that's translated into higher overall viewership! Every single one of y'all deserves the recognition, you've been absolutely killing it this season and it's been so much fun to watch.

- A new viewer

Yeah it absolutely has for quite a few of us

Episodes this season are surpassing my Limited Life ones that published earlier this year, even with a few months extra time on LL to catch up

I'm not sure if it was an intentional effect of the series design but I can totally see how/why its happened

Every single episode has unique moving parts and in true life series fashion they seem to domino accidentally but wonderfully

Thank you so much for giving me a shot, I hope you've enjoyed it and future content! (Even though I've ZERO clue what I'm doing after this and Pirates - that's for 2024 Martyn to worry about haha)

[genericpuff]

LORE | REKINDLED EPISODE 38 - PAY THE TOLL

< Previous episode | Next episode >

banshriek and i learned this week that my toxic trait is making episodes too long for my own good, i literally finished this episode by the skin of my teeth-

anyways thank you all so much for reading! REMINDER that next week will be the last once-a-week update for a little bit, as mentioned a bit back, I'm going to be switching to a once-every-two-weeks schedule during the winter so that I can have time to prep for convention/market season next year! I know this is gonna be a bummer for those of y'all who have enjoyed the weekly updates, but this will ensure I'll have time to put into both Rekindled and my other projects without sacrificing quality or mental headspace for either of them <3 (especially while I'm still stuck working on my iPad, I need Santa to bring me a new tablet lmao) We'll hopefully return to weekly updates in the spring!

Thank you all so much for your love and support, I hope you enjoy this episode! <3

[kithtaehyung]

drabble: first one pairing: 3tan!yoongi x reader(f) rating/genre: pg ; fluff ; three tangerines au note: uhh. surprise and happy holidays LOL. based on this ig reel sent in the discord multiple times, this little slice is gonna kickstart the "3tan does sm" mini series! basically this little ongoing collection will have all the drabbles/requests based on social media things y'all send in. if it inspires me, i'll make a drabble or something out of it hehehe. enjoy! warnings: nothing big. just 3tan yoongi lol links: three tangerines mlist ; masterlist drop date: december 28, 2023, 7:07pm est word count: 1.1k

-

-

In the middle of winter, you decide that tonight is the perfect time to try something new. 

Which leaves Yoongi confused as hell because this attempt requires him to be outside in the freeze, when the two of you were just bundled up in blankets and watching a movie minutes ago. 

But he can scold your lack of attention span and tendency to watch videos during long movies later. 

“What am I doing?” 

Placing him on one spot of the sidewalk just outside his apartment, you urge, “Just, hold on. Stay right there.” 

“Huh?” 

Giggling, you give no other instructions, instead rushing forward to bring your phone to a nearby bench. When you set it down to see what the camera catches, you determine that you look fine enough, so you tell Yoongi—who is simply standing there and still looking devastatingly handsome—what you wanna do. “Okay, pull up the video I sent you.” 

“Shouldn’t we go back inside?” 

“Yes, yes, after this.” 

When you walk up, he pulls up the link, and you both watch as people run to their partners and rush them out of frame, spinning them around or chasing them away. 

Ever consistent, Yoongi is both unfazed and wondering what goes on. “What’s the goal of this again?” 

Shrugging, you’re just happy he’s not tugging you back indoors yet. “I don’t really know, but. I just wanna see how you do it.” 

“Mm…” He looks one more time, cementing his answer with the way he smushes his lips. “Fine.” 

“You’ll do it?” 

“Uh huh. But this is just for you.” 

Right. Because of course this can't be seen anywhere else. Your smile is rueful with a tinge of holiday hope, “I know.” 

And Yoongi’s expression carries the same weight. 

Maybe one day this conversation will be a lot different. Just like the way your quick stay at his place while your brother is at a work dinner will prove a lot longer of a night. One day. 

Maybe.

Cheering yourself up, you practically bounce back to where the bench is, slipping a bit with a tiny “whoops” before reaching out to press record. Backing up onto the sidewalk, you throw up peace signs, poses, do a few different filler moves until Yoongi does his part. 

But nothing happens. 

And no one appears by your side. 

So you turn to see if he actually left but goddamn it is he recording you? “What the!” 

Yoongi just laughs as you kick your head back in laughter, and stops holding his phone up. “So cute.” 

Damn it, he can’t give you this fluttering feeling while being annoying! “Focus!” 

Groaning, you turn your recording off and then back on again, repeating some of the same things for the camera and shuffling a little in place to warm up. Because it is freezing and this idea could have waited another season or two. 

And when you look to the side after a pause, Yoongi is recording again. 

You bend forward to shield from the chill, your yell echoing throughout the small little courtyard, “Yoongi!” Does he have to keep grinning like that? There’s no time for prolonging this even more! “I cannot with you right now.” 

After another attractive huff of amusement, he keeps going, “I can’t help it! You’re being adorable.” 

Well. At least Yoongi’s having his fun. If anything, he’s stalling because he doesn’t wanna do whatever challenge this is. So you can drop it. “Ugh… Never mind, we can go inside.” 

After grabbing your phone, you walk up to him again before he stops you. And you think it’s because you were about to slip once more, but his low tone gets you to see his face under those locks. 

“Nah, we can do it.” When you give him a pouting frown, his teeth shine. “Serious!” 

Easily placated, you’re back to grinning. “Okay, for real this time! It’s cold!” 

“I know! You didn’t even let me get my beanie!” 

Laughing out your guilt, you warn him over your shoulder, “If you run into me, you better not knock me over.” 

“I won’t, doll.” 

“Okay!” Placing your phone down for hopefully the last time, you hit record, seeing yourself sigh before gingerly walking back to the sidewalk. 

In hindsight, maybe it wasn’t the best idea to try and get Yoongi to do this. It’s colder than hell’s deepest frost at this point, and some snow is still falling from darkened skies. 

But all the little reactions in the videos looked too cute, and you are genuinely curious to see what he’s gonna do. So even through your poses, you brace yourself. Is he gonna run in for a hug? Is he gonna rush you off with a big warm embrace? 

…Is he really not gonna do anything?

Feeling a little bad, you drop the cute poses and turn. 

Only to feel him right at your side, gathering you with a soft, strong arm and leading you down the sidewalk. 

Well, damn.

The gesture is so him that, for a second, you genuinely think that he saw something and led you out of harm’s way on instinct. But as you look around, you don’t see anyone else in the wintry courtyard besides the two of you. 

“What’s wrong?” 

Your vision flicks away from the lighted trees dotting the area. “Oh, nothing, I was just…” 

“Wanna run it back? If we do let’s go somewhere else. It’s icy right there.” 

Blinking, you see his eyes full of pure curiosity and attentiveness. 

And suddenly you wanna go back inside for a completely different reason other than warmth. 

“That felt perfect,” you whisper, eyes lowering to his ever inviting lips. “Lemme check it.” 

Leaving his cozy side, you go back and retrieve your chilly phone, stopping the recording that you are relieved you successfully started. Both you and Yoongi watch as you play the full thing, and after he leads you out of frame, your jaw drops. 

“Oh, my god. This beats all the ones I’ve seen.” 

“Really?” 

“Damn… Now I’m actually sad I can’t post this.” When you laugh, it’s not all joyful. Turning to him, you pretend to be mad. “Why are you so cool?” 

Huffing small, Yoongi looks up and around you before giving your cheek a kiss, and your knees weaken at how tender it is. “Send it to me,” he murmurs. 

“You want it, too?” 

“Mm.” 

“Okay.” 

“Just a little longer, babe.” He gives you another peck on your very cold nose. Then both cheeks. And your forehead. 

All while you’re out in the open where anyone could witness. 

Just his willingness to amuse you was already perfect. Yoongi didn’t need to do any of that, and he certainly didn’t need to be so charming with his stylistic choice. But he did it all anyway while freezing his pretty ass off.

And his next words make your chest yearn to stay with him—for every holiday season and silly trend that comes around. 

“Then this’ll be the first one of us we post.”

-

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fin. :)

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🌨️ what do we feel! i needed this little drabble :')) 🌨️

a/n: did i mean for this to be a full blown drabble? no! was this the video that bo originally sent me that i flailed over? no! but it's the reel i saw and apparently had been sent in the server multiple times. so here we are with a surprise hahaha.

enjoy your holidays, everyone! and if you have anything social media related that 3tan reminds you of - or you can see the 3tan crew doing - send them in and maybe i'll get inspired again. :D this didn't take me long at all and i wanted to do it, so no worries about extra work!

a/n 2: 3tan12 is going strong alongside the holiday fics! should be posting teasers and taglists for those, too. very very excited for all of them mwahaha

🌨️ links: three tangerines mlist ; masterlist

[retroellie]

NSFW Alphabet w/ Spencer Reid

Summary: NSFW alphabet w/ spenice poo

A/N: Ovbiosuly i have to introduce a new character with an NSFW alphabet... it's become my thing yall I know. Also, i wanted this one to be like spencer in the earlier seasons because I'm a whore for him then.

Warnings: NSFW, BDSM, pegging, loss of virginity, Sub!Spencer Reid

Word count: 3.8K

A= Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

Dr Spencer Reid is a sweetheart and we all know this, so obviously he's going to be the sweetest boy after. The first couple of times y'all have sex, he's kind of awkward afterward... like he feels weird about the fact he was just inside of you and now he has to talk to you like nothing happened. Eventually, he warms up to it and gets better at taking care of you. Now he always makes sure he has a soft rag and some water in his nightstand so when you stay over he doesn't have to get up. To be completely honest though, he's the one who needs the aftercare...

B=body part (Their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner's)

He likes your boobs, like really likes your boobs. He likes them because they're just so versatile, you know? Like he can lay his head on them while you read to him, he can stick his dick in between them, he can suck on them... I mean, what more can this boy need?!?!? Mostly he likes how he can still see them when you guys are in public, maybe not in their entirety but he loves when you wear low-cut shirts. You do it on purpose sometimes, just to see him squirm in his seat while trying to go over statistics on a case. But overall, Spencer just really likes your body. It's just one of those things that Spencer doesn't have to think about or understand, it was just so easy to fall in love with it.

Spencer doesn't really like his body, I feel like he's a very insecure person. He thinks he's too scrawny, too thin, and extremely out of shape. You try to tell him that he's perfect but he can't get over his insecurities. If he did have to choose, it would be his mouth, if he's good for anything... it's for talking and giving mind-blowing head.

C=Cum (anything to do with cum)

Spencer has the worst pull-out game ever, I mean seriously. It's mostly because he just loves cumming with you. The way he'll be deep inside you, literally inside your guts... then he just releases it all into you and watches as your face controls into pure pleasure. He loses all control when you cums, his vision goes white and the only thing he can think of is how pretty you look on his cock.

You had to go on birth control because you couldn't deny Spencer Reid of his favorite thing to do, plus he went on this rant about how birth control is better than condoms because condoms can break blah blah blah. You knew it was simply because he wanted to cum inside you... and it felt way better without a condom.

D=dirty secret

Spencer Reid loves to research things alright... so obviously he has watched massive amounts of porn for research purposes. At first, he tried to tell himself it was for profiling purposes, he needed to know what every kink was so he was able to apply it when needed... well, then it turned into more of his own interest. He wanted to know what he liked, especially when he met you. I mean he's watched almost everything, BDSM, humiliation, sadism, choking, slapping, even pissing. A lot of those things he found he didn't enjoy, but he's honestly found some stuff that makes his face heat up at the thought of it. What's even weirder about this is that Spencer has never jacked off to any of it, to him... it is completely for research.

E=experience (How experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

You were his first and he hopes you are his last :). He hasn't even really kissed anyone before you. However, as said above, Spencer has done a lot of research so he definitely knows what he's doing. But porn is completely different than the real thing so he was confused that it didn't go how he expected it to go. What's really nice about Spencer is that he has an eidetic memory, so if something makes your toes curl once... he can do it over and over and over again the exact same way which honestly makes him seem so much more experienced than he actually is.

F=Favorite position

He loves it when you ride him. Not only does he get the perfect view of your boobs and your face, but he loves letting you take control. I feel like Spencer is a bottom so he enjoys the feeling of you towering over him, taking everything you need, and controlling if he gets to cum or not.

He also loves taking you from the back but not in the way you would think. He likes being able to lean against something and you do all the work, like you thrust yourself back on him. He likes that so when you get too tried or frustrated, he can help you fuck yourself on him. Also, I feel like Spencer would like to be experimental with positions, especially since he knows almost all of them from his extensive research. So he tries to switch it up and try new positions every once in a while.

G= Goofy (Are they serious at the moment or are they humorous?)

Everything spencer does is goofy as fuck, so sex is not a serious thing for yall. You can't do anything without spencer shooting out some statistics which makes you laugh, cause his dick could be down your throat and he'd talk about how "43% percent of women say they like giving oral more than receiving it." Sometimes you have to show his face between your own legs to get him to shut up. In short, spencer has to be serious all day at the BAU, so coming home and having to seriously fuck you is just not something he wants to do. He's gonna have some fun with it.

H= Hair (How groomed are they down there?)

Spencer is a bit of a germaphobe, he doesn't like to shake people's hands for god sake. He is definitely either clean-shaven or very well-groomed. He makes sure to clean his junk thoroughly, again with the whole bacteria and germ blah blah... You get it, he just feels more clean if he's groomed well down there.

As for you, I feel like he's gonna care if you're shaved down there or not. I mean he's obviously still going to eat your pussy even if you haven't shaved, but he does prefer you to be groomed down there. Again it's a germaphobe thing for him, but like I said... it's not the thing that determines if he'll fuck you or not.

I=Intimacy

This boy is touch starved as fuck. He usually doesn't like touch, he's scared of it if I'm being honest. So when you came along and touched him in every way possible... he craves it now. He wants to be close to you at all times when he's reading, on a case, or showering. He wants to be touching you in some way. Sex is intimate as well, especially since you were his first time. Losing his virginity was a huge thing for him, so the intimate part was important to him.

He loves the cringey romance things, I mean like buying you flowers or going on expensive dinners every anniversary or birthday. He only ever got his romance beliefs from old romance books and cheesy romance movies. He sure did know how to make you feel like a princess.

J= Jack off (Masturbation headcanons)

Spencer never really masturbated much before he met you, he never really felt that way either. Like being horny was something that he never felt, never got hard, or had a wet dream. Even while doing his research, he never popped a boner... not even once! That was until he met you, now a bus could go by and he is stiff. He can only jack off to the thought of you though, he only needs his mind and his hand to get him off when you aren't there.

I also think he likes to watch you masturbate, he's a little creep like that. Obviously, you'd know he was there, but he likes for you to pretend he's not there. He loves watching you tease yourself, moaning his name while he sits in a chair in the corner of the room. It gives him a small power rush, knowing he's getting you off without even touching you.

K= Kinks

Alright, he has quite a bit... he's a little dirty dog once you get him going. He definitely has a mommy kink definitely, I mean he has mommy issues so it is inevitable for the word mommy to slip out during sex. He says shit like "You make me feel so good mommy..." or "Can I cum mommy?" In his most pathetic voice as he whimpers so loud.

He's a kinky little fucker, to name a few...Prasing, bondage, role-playing, orgasm control, Voyeurism, humiliation. The list goes on and on. He was so embarrassed to bring them up to you starting off, he felt wrong for liking these things. You basically had to fuck it out of him but when he did, he felt so comfortable with you. Sex gets rough and a bit chaotic, but it was for you guys and you guys only so it didn't really matter. As long as you two were both comfortable and enjoying it, it didn't really matter.

L= Location (favorite place to do it)

This is where Spencer Reid lacks alright. He likes to be in his own bed when doing it, I mean he can't really afford to be too adventurous in this area. He's an FBI agent... he can't get caught doing it anywhere else. That's not to say y'all haven't done it in other places, the hotels he stays at on cases have been a regular thing for you guys, but he just doesn't feel safe doing it anywhere else but his own home.

M= Motivation (What turns them on?)

Like I said earlier, he never really got turned on before you. He always thought there was something wrong with him when it came to sex, but girl... you opened a floodgate to him. What turns him on the most is when he thinks of you. Especially if he sees something, let's say he sees a desk... he can't help but imagine bending you over it. It's just you, when you creep up on his mind randomly... he turns into putty.

He also gets so flustered and turned up to the max when you humiliate him in public, like teasing him in front of the team. He gets so sexually frustrated, hearing you joke about him in front of Morgan or teasing him with Garcia about how smart he is... especially calling him "pretty boy"... just gets him going.

N= NO (Something they wouldn’t do/ turn offs)

As an agent of the BAU, constantly around murder and gore and pure violence... Spencer is really picky about violence in the bedroom. He wants sex to be light and fun, not dark. He doesn't mind degrading or hitting... but he wants to keep it at a minimum. I mean he sees it all day, every day. So he'd just rather keep it upbeat in the bedroom, he'd much rather praise you than anything else.

That is a gray area for him, however there is something that he will never do. He hates bodily fluids, so spit and blood... etc. is just off the table for him. Not only is he around it all day, but he doesn't like the germs and bacteria it comes with.

O= Oral (Giving or receiving, skill etc.)

This man could go down on you for hours, I mean... hours. Like I feel like this man jumps up and down when you let him eat you out. This man will attempt to tease you but he gets so eager when he eats your pussy, so he always ends up letting you cum the second your orgasm comes. His favorite after-work activity is to come to the hotel or your shared apartment, pull your panties down, and eat you out like a hungry man. Not to get all psychological (I'm telling y'all I have been watching too much criminal minds lately) but I feel like it's definitely a control thing. I mean his entire life has been out of his control, his entire career is about fighting for control... so the only time he feels somewhat in control is when he goes down on you.

Spencer Reid obviously enjoys receiving as well, I mean what man doesn't like getting some head? He finds you so pretty on your knees, trying desperately to get him off which doesn't take too long for him when you're like this. Spencer just prefers giving simply because he wants to make you feel good, I mean he so desperately wants to make you feel good. Plus he's really good at it, I mean really good...

P= pace (are they fast or rough? slow or sensual?)

As said before, Spencer is eager. He is extremely fast with it, I mean to the point you have to tell him to slow down sometimes because he's going crazy. "Slow down Spence.." You moan into the pillows as your face down, ass up. "Sorry... it... you... fuck... you just feel so good" He stutters out, probably the only time spencer reid gets twisted up with his words is when he fucks you. You would have to be the one to go slow with it, you want him to feel the love in the act. You want him to understand sex doesn't have to be a scientific act, it isn't just for procreation or for the orgasm... it can be an act of love.

Q= Quickie (Their opinions on quickies)

He probably loves them more than eating you out, actually.. I wouldn't go that far. It's a close second to it. He's a busy man, always on a case or trying to finish a book. They are especially good when y'all are traveling for cases like y'all only have 8 minutes before you have to get back to work... he can make you both cum 3 times in 4. He loves long drawn-out ones too, he likes making you feel good for hours but they are rare occurrences simply because he's always getting called into the office. So honestly quickies are how y'all survive.

R= Risk (Are they okay with experimenting? do they take risks?)

He loves experimenting! Like I said before, he has done his research and he probably made a list of things he would like to try with you. He had to get comfortable first to be able to experiment, it was a long process of breaking Dr. Spencer Reid out of his shell. But now it feels like you guys are always trying new things, I mean like every time you guys have sex... Spencer asks if he can do something new to you.

As for risks, he is not for risks. If it genuinely is risky, causing harm to either one of you or something that will cause Morgan to tease him every day for?? It's off the table like I said before... His entire job is about risks, he just wants your guy's sex life to be healthy and normal.

S= Stamina (How many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Spencer can go all night. Let's be honest, it's how he stays fit. Like I said, Spencer gets horny quickly so after every orgasm he has... he's already hard again. I feel like the most rounds y'all have gone is like 8 or 9, it was all in the course of 3 hours too. Again it's a rare occurrence for you guys to have long drawn-out sessions, it mostly happens when spencer has the day off or after a case and y'all spend the day in the city the case was in. When days like this do come, spencer goes crazy and full-on out. He'll light the candles, he'll have a tub of lube, he'll have bottles of water for you guys because he knows y'all will need lots of water after.

I feel like Spencer doesn't last very long, maybe 5 minutes but like I said... he gets hard really fast and he'll edge himself over and over again just so he can make you feel good. I feel like you also help him build up his tolerance, so he slowly starts to last longer and longer. When y'all first started having sex, he couldn't last over 2 minutes... let's be honest now y'all.

T= Toys (do they have toys and who do they use them on?)

ooooh, this is a fun one because spencer reid loves experimenting, so toys are definitely something he likes. He's really into vibrators, especially when you let him watch you masturbate... he just loves watching you tease yourself with it. However, when you use vibrators on him... makes him weak in the knees, for obvious reasons but also because of the sensation of the vibrating and then your hands or pussy?!? He can't help but cum every single time without fail.

Alright y'all I know, spencer reid likes to be pegged. He went completely feral when you bought it for the first time, he begged you to destroy him with the strap. He is a bottom, he likes to be dominated... It goes without saying that he likes to be pegged. You do this thing though, where you're taking him from the back and you use a vibrator to hold his cock. You have him screaming with that move you do.

As for other toys, I feel like he has a pair of handcuffs or bondage toys laying around.

U= Unfair (how much do they tease?)

He doesn't do much teasing but you do, you tease him so much that he is begging to be fucked by the time you guys are alone. He's used to being teased by literally everyone in his life, but something about your teasing... no matter if sexual or not, never fails to make him all flustered.

His teasing isn't really teasing, to him it is but every time he tries teasing you, you end up getting so confused. He'd be like, "You look good in that shirt, it would look way better off though... You know statistically, women in shirts...". Just a very Reid thing to do. You always feed on his teasing though, you want to make him feel good about himself so you just smile and nod.

V= Volume (How loud are they?)

This mf is loud as fuck. Sometimes you have to push his face into the pillows or make him bite down on your panties because he's just so loud. He doesn't moan either, he whimpers and whines. There's a time when you love making him whimper, you encourage it actually. You love seeing his red, flustered face as he whines for you to let him cum. Then there are times, like in hotels, that you have to keep him quiet. Unfortunately, Spencer Reid doesn't do quiet. You shoving your wet panties in his mouth is a regular thing in those times, he can't complain because he loves the taste.

He is also very vocal, he loves praising and being praised. He will whimper out "Fuck... make me feel good.." or "wanna cum in you.." You always cave into his wants, I mean his little whimpers are so cute how can you not?

W- Wild card (Random headcanons)

We all know that spencer reid loves books and statistics, so he will definitely multitask when fucking you. He loves when he's at his desk at home and you come in, wearing nothing but one of his sweaters. You'll crawl down on your knees and suck him off under the desk. You force him to do work as you make him cum, over and over and over. He also likes it when you cockwarm him, asking him questions about the case and if he messes up or stutters... you snap your hips down and make him whine. One time, when you were riding him in his office chair... he was reading a book, like an old literature book. "Are you reading right now?" You asked him, confused because like what? and he replied. "yeah... it's okay, you can keep going. I'll be done in a minute." He smiled so innocently, you wanted to fuck him harder after that.

Also, he uses his statistics to make you feel good, he read in a college textbook about female anatomy that girls like their nipples played with during sex so he tried it on you. You had no idea you liked that until Spencer Reid started pinching them. He'll also tell you the statistics while doing it, which I think is kinda funny. "Statistically, 76% of women have never stimulated they're g-spot," He says as he thrusts up, hitting yours perfectly.

X= X-ray (What’s going on in their pants)

Spencer Reid is a very scrawny and skinny man, so I know he is packing. He's probably a little over average, not too much but enough to make you nervous if you'll be able to take it all. He has a very pretty dick too, very well-groomed and very clean. He doesn't have much girth too, but honestly, size doesn't matter.

Y= Yearning (How high is their sex drive)

Very high sex drive, that's why quickies are so important to him. He didn't really understand Morgan's obsession with women at first until he actually had sex... now he always wants to be inside of you. He begs a lot too, if he's horny... all he will do is beg and plead for you to touch him. "Spencer we just got here, settle down." You scold him as he tries to get you to the private bathroom. "Please y/n... you look so pretty in your dress and... it's making my stomach hurt." Eventually, spencers whining gets you all hot and heavy, and you end up fucking him in the bathroom.

Z= ZZZ (How quick do they fall asleep after?)

Spencer passes out after his balls are empty and he is worn out from everything. Like I guess anyone would be exhausted after 7 to 9 rounds of desperately trying to get off. Not only but he has a very mentally and physically exhausting job, so he's out like a light as soon as his head hits the pillow. 

[hoshigray]

Sweet Blind Summer Fling ༄ S. Gojo

"Due to a bet made by Nobara, I made an online dating account to set myself up with a blind date. Although a bit witty and annoyingly childish, Gojo's remarkably handsome and sweet...So, how the hell did I end up sleeping with him on the first date!?"

A/n: Alright, y'all, it's time for the second entry for my summer series!! Not gonna lie, it was fun to write as it's my first time writing for Gojo. I think I did a decent job capturing his character in my style, but you will be the judge of that. This was supposed to be posted on Monday, but I was overwhelmed (had 1 hour of sleep) and dropped something else. But we're good to go now! :) And fyi: there's a bonus scene at the end that sets up the next story as they are connected. Any spelling/grammar errors will be dealt with tomorrow.

Also, guest appearances from my lovely mooties (@cu7ie // @kazushawty // @etherealxmaya // @hqkalon // @yourrfavzxri // @neptunes1nterweb) because I felt like it, lol. Hope this puts a smile on their faces if they see this :3

Series m. list!! This entry has been updated along w/ its contents.

Cw: switch! Gojo x fem! reader - explicit content, so minors DNI - blind date/online match-up - age difference (the reader is at least in their 20s; Gojo is around early 30s) - texting back and forth - sex at a hotel - one night stands - consensual sex under the influence - protected sex (PSA: wrap it up, or get the fuck up) - cowgirl + lotus positions - pet names (angel, baby, dollface, pretty, princess, sweet thing) - clitoral play (swiping and pinching) - praise - mentions of drug/alcohol use (reader and Gojo don't get blackout drunk, but y'all get tipsy) - a bunch of silliness bc it's a Gojo fic (duh).

Wc: 6.9k (7.4k with the bonus scene...never say I don't do anything for y'all)

Dear Diary...I once again have come to you with more thoughts that cloud my personal judgment. I did not think you'd be of use to me again. But after what happened last night, it's worth having you in front of me and a pen in my hand again once more...

After finishing your finals, summer break has finally welcomed you with open arms. Two semesters of painful studying and sleepless nights have been long forgotten since you turned in your last in-person exam! You've started working at an internship that you've been dying to get, enjoying the new things you're learning from experienced colleagues, and finding love in the field you've grown and studied for this entire time.

In addition, you also have all the time in the world to hang out with your best friends — Yuuji, Megumi, and Nobara! Just last weekend, you four hung out at this new sports bar that recently opened and had the most fun experience! Yuuji made new friends with people at the bar who kept buying him drinks; Megumi had to begrudgingly watch over the salmon-haired other to ensure he didn't croak from alcohol poisoning, and you and Nobara took sweet pictures together for your summer album.

It's been a great summer so far. There has been nothing that could bring you down from enjoying this season in the best way you can. Absolutely nothing that could throw you off your summer grove!

However, that's what you initially thought. Because why else would you be in some random hotel room writing in your diary.

To get the full context, I'll take you back to the night I and the gang left the sports bar. We spent the night at Yuuji's as he and Nobara tried to sober up...

It was a chill evening in your friend's place, you and the other three in the living room chatting with the television on low to not disrupt his sleeping grandfather. Yuuji was sobering up by eating bread and drinking water, Megumi was on the couch reading something on his phone, and you were arguing with Nobara.

The auburn-haired other points to you with her index, holding a glass of water. "I told ya, you lost the bet!"

"How!? You literally cheated!" You push her finger out of the way as you two giggle at your complaints. "You kicked Yuuji in the shin to distract him, and I didn't even know I was a part of the damn thing!"

Now your pink-haired friend jumped to say words of his own. "That was foul with what you did; I should've fallen to the floor and acted like I was really hurt. Have you paying my medical bills."

"Blah, blah, blah, sounds like a losers' pleas to me." Nobora rolls her eyes while you and Yuuji glare at her. "And you! You didn't say you were out of the game, unlike Megumi. I said, and I quote: 'When the wings touch the table, the bet is on,' and guess what? By the time the wings got here, I didn't hear a single peep out of you saying you forfeited from the challenge! Once you picked up a single wing, your ass was set in stone!"

"Oh, for fuck's sake, you annoying bitch..." you groan in your hands as the woman maniacally barks her laughs. "Alright, fine, I ate the shortest portion of wings. Therefore, I, Y/n L/n, declare myself the loser to this fuckery of a challenge. So, Queen Cheater," Nobara snickers to herself at the title you've given her. "What is my punishment?"

You should've known by the evil twinge of your friend's lip that the punishment would be absurd. "I, Queen Cheater," she takes a confident swig of her water before sealing your fate. The words she says next shake to your core, and the decline of your dignity hits you like a bullet train. "...Hereby dare you, the loser, to make an online dating account and find thyself a blind date!"

Your disapproval fell on deaf ears, forcing you to resentfully grab your phone and download a dating app. To make matters worse, you had to make the account with your friends watching (minus Megumi, who still wanted no part in what you all were doing). Once you were done setting up your profile, the three of you looked to the screen to look at the other users, who were also on a quest to find a sense of courtship.

The past thirty minutes have been spent looking at all the users around the area, swiping left and right for those who did and didn't pique your interest.

Todo Aoi (22) "I like 'em tall, with a FAT ASS. If you don't fit the criteria, it's gonna be hard to convince me."

Oh, brother.

Sol (18) "Don't know about a long-term relationship, but we can be chill if ya wanna be friends! :D"

Seems nice. Maybe a chat wouldn't hurt.

Mei Mei (36) Don't ever expect me to pay for the first date or any date. Will you see me again depends on what you have in your savings. ♡

Alright, I appreciate the honesty. But nope.

Karma (20) "Tbh I'm secretly married to my four wives: Hoshi, Maya, Sae, and Zari. But if you look like or are Toji Fushiguro, hit my DMs pronto!! Shhhh, don't tell Hoshi tho, she might divorce me :P"

Okay then—Wait, isn't that Megumi's dad??

Hoshi (20s) Don't listen to Karma. We are very much divorced, and my heart belongs to my one and only: Toji Fushiguro :/

Alrighty then...

Sapphire (19) "Call me MLK, cuz I had a dream about us 🫦"

Fucking no!

Frustration keens in through a heavy sigh. Usually, you'd be happy knowing you can't seem to find a match; however, for this situation, Nobara Kugisaki will not let you off the hook until there's someone worthy of the swipe of invitation. You groan in exhaustion, throwing your head back onto the couch behind you.

With no luck, you decided to call it a night and try again later. So you called an Uber, took yourself home after saying goodbyes to your friends, and reluctantly promised Nobara you'd let her know if you'd get a blind date. With a nice shower and some comfortable PJs, you're now lying comfortably on your bed and looking through all the pictures you took tonight. Then, for some reason, you had the urge to go back on the dating app to look through more users to match up with. Probably because you'd prefer to get this bet out of the way now than later. Regardless of the justification, you spend about twenty minutes swiping and reading through many other people's profiles, and — just like before — not many people catch your eye.

That holds true until you stumble upon a name and description that sparks your curiosity.

Satoru Gojo (old enough to be irresistible; 31) "I was made perfect, I can do everything perfectly, but I want us to be perfect together (･ω&lt;;)☆"

It might've been the use of the emoticon or the confidence that seeped out based on the tiny description. Whatever the case, you stayed on the user's profile for quite a while longer than the others. Even going far as to read his profile thoroughly: knowing what his likes and dislikes are, his height, a fan of Digimon, and so on.

And you contemplated whether or not to swipe him to the side of approval, but you made up your mind after a few minutes of inner discourse. It's not like I'll match up with him immediately. So, you gave him the go and continued on with your search.

Although, that was short-lived because what happened next surprised you to the point that sleep no longer claimed over you.

"Contratz! You've successfully matched with Satoru Gojo!"

Wait, what!!??

You were utterly perplexed by the pop-up showing up on your phone screen. There's no way this was happening, all under the same night, too! And what surprised you the most was the fact that he was awake as well, sending you the first message:

gogojojo: Hey!

Oh, fucking shit. Your body tenses at the greeting, reading his username and message repeatedly. Quickly, you take a few deep breaths to ease yourself before doing something stupid. You answer him with a salutation of your own:

y/ndontwannabehere: Hi there!

gogojojo: A night owl too, huh? Couldn't sleep?

y/ndontwannabehere: Yeah, was just on my phone for a bit, until I saw your message.

gogojojo: Lucky me! I was surprised to have you as a match, I saw your profile about an hour ago.

y/ndontwannabehere: I'm also surprised as well, you're one of the few people who I seemed interested in.

gogojojo: Well, I'm flattered :D Now that you got my attention, what would you like to know about me?

y/ndontwannabehere: Okay...it says you're six-foot-three, how's that like?

gogojojo: I may be six-foot-three, but I'd like to be six feet under you ;3

y/ndontwannabehere: ......

......I regret giving this dude a chance.

Because of the terrible pick-up line, you closed off the app and turned off your phone to switch the lights off and go to sleep. However, another text sends your phone vibrating on the dresser's surface.

gogojojo: Woooow, not even a pity laugh? :/

You shake your head at the notification, but a smile creeps up when you open your phone and tap on the keys to message back.

y/ndontwannabehere: nope, that sucked ass.

gogojojo: Hey now!! >:T you can't say it's ass if it did what it was supposed to do

y/ndontwannabehere: and what's that?

gogojojo: got you here talking with me ヾ(●ε●)ノ

His message makes your smile broader, and you spend the rest of the night talking to Gojo.

It continues for two more weeks, sharing pieces of info about yourselves while rolling your eyes at his annoying jokes and pick-up lines. But for the most part, you enjoy your talks with the stranger on the other side of your screen.

And it all goes swell until he drops this:

gogojojo: Hey! Wanna go on a date with me this weekend?

You were lying on your bed watching Netflix, and you almost choked on your dinner when the message popped up. So in tune with the back-and-forth between you and Gojo that you had forgotten why you made an online dating account in the first place! You grab for your phone to reply:

y/ndontwannabehere: you're serious?!

gogojojo: yeah! I mean, you and I've been talking for a while, I'm kinda into you, plus we could meet up somewhere close. Besides, I would like to see you, and I know you're dying to see me too :)

y/ndontwannabehere: And what makes you think I'd DIE just to see you?

gogojojo: Because why would you not~? You'd be surprised by how many people I've had fallen head-over-heels for me~

y/ndontwannabehere: well, guess I'll be the first one to not be >:3

gogojojo: HUH!!?? Don't say that, I'll cry

y/ndontwannabehere: LMAO grown ass man crying over rejection

gogojojo: Rejection hurts, and I have a weak heart!! :'000

y/ndontwannabehere: Liar.

gogojojo: ANYWAYS! You up for a date?

And that's how you started dressing yourself up on a Friday afternoon, fixing yourself up in front of your bedroom mirror. Checking your phone periodically for Gojo to tell you when he's in front of your home.

You already texted Nobara that you got a blind date, to which she praised you with monumental amounts of supportive text messages and emojis and a text stating she'll throttle you if you don't tell her all about it. It was humorous: you created the online dating account because of a stupid bet for a random date — and now that it was here, you didn't know how to feel. You can't say when was the last time you ever went out with someone, let alone on a blind date! Anxiousness shadows you about the whole thing, but after chatting and getting to know a little bit of Gojo, perhaps it wouldn't be so bad of a date.

After all, the guy seems likable and fun to hang out with based on your interactions. Plus, it's only a date. That's all it is. Absolutely nothing attached in any shape or form.

Thoughts grind to a halt when you hear your phone vibrating on your dresser, a text from Gojo.

gogojojo: I'm here~~~ Ready to fall madly in love with me? :3

Your heart skips a beat at the message, biting the bottom of your lip in nervousness. You send him a reply:

y/ndontwannabehere: Nah, ready to barf right in front of your face :P

gogojojo: Such a rude person :/ Get your butt out here

You giggle before shutting off your phone and grabbing your bag with all your necessary items. Before you leave, you look in the mirror one last time, using this moment to mentally prepare yourself for what's to come. The day has come; you're about to go on a date. No going back now, and I can finally put this dumb bet to rest!

You open your front door and enter outside, the summer heat crawling on your legs from your cute jean shorts and your shoulders excluded from the cream-white cami top. You see a black car — a black 2018 BMW XI — parked right on the street, windows tinted to hide the face you're looking for. But when you draw closer to the vehicle, the passenger side window slides down, and you finally meet him.

The man of the hour himself, the man you've been talking with for two weeks straight, and the man you were about to experience a complete mess of a date with: Satoru Gojo.

"Hey there," his voice was chipper and friendly; his texting style matched his speech. From the window, you can interpret his outfit: a blue flannel shirt covering his white Tee and black jeans with a silver chain emanating from his belt. His eyes were blocked by dark circle sunglasses, making it hard to decipher the color. But his snow-white hair was the first thing that caught your eye, contrasting with the black interior of his car. "Y/n, right?"

You smile at your name. "Correct, Mr. Gogojojo."

He snickers at the use of his username. "You look cute, and I know you like what you see since you were eyeballing me up and down."

"Yeah, whatever." You roll your eyes before opening the passenger door, putting your bag between your legs as you sit down. While putting on your seatbelt, you can feel the bass subtlety vibrate within the car, and the music was...What the fuck? You look at the front integrated head unit on the dashboard and see what artist the man is listening to. "...You listen to Zack Fox?"

"Yeah, I was listening to his songs on my way here! You know his song Marinate?" And before you could answer, the white-haired man sang along to the lyrics. To your perplexity, you just watch him rap along with the artist and the outlandish lyrics. And he just keeps going until the transition to the second verse. "Funny, right?"

"You know," you shake your head at Gojo, whose grin goes wider. "I was about to fall for you until you started rapping the lyrics."

"Whaaaat, he's a comedian, it's meant to be funny!"

"Whatever. Let's just hurry and get this date over with."

"Oh, sounds like someone's ready to be wined and dined by me." He starts the car and shifts between gears. "Don't rush things, princess. Good things come to those who wait."

"Just drive!"

Gojo laughs at your complaints as he drives off on the street. You playfully groan to yourself at your date's antics, looking out to the window to watch your surroundings move past your line of sight.

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"Ever since high school, I would eat a pack of gummies anytime I was doing homework because it stimulates my brain and helps me focus. So by the time college came around, I got so used to eating sweets that I naturally started liking them." Gojo took a sip of his milkshake. "But then, when my best friend and I went to our first house party, I had my first drink. And, Y/n."

"Oh God, what?"

"The taste was so bad that I tried downing it all in one chug. Well, that came back to bite my ass — and my best friend got the worst of it."

"Gojo, what did you do?"

"He was sitting down on a couch talking to someone, and I was behind the couch feeling all squeamish. So, before I could stop myself, I barfed on his hair!"

"Oh, my God, No!!" And the two of you roar in laughter and bang on the booth table you were sitting at.

The date was at an old, vibrant diner in the city where Gojo is a regular customer; the cozy and welcoming atmosphere had you erase any anxious feelings about this date and feel a little more confident. You and Gojo took things slow, you talking about your summer internship and him of his job as a high school teacher.

The conversation started the topic of summer break came to play, prompting you to talk more about yourself and your friends. That flipped the switch entirely as you became more open about your friends and their goofiness. And as a goofy man, Gojo was intrigued with your stories and had him reminiscent of memories from his youth. Although, you've come to find out that Gojo takes his playful nature to a whole other level, and it's been having you two laugh about said foolishness for the past hour.

"The funny thing is, right, he was talking to this sophomore girl that was eyeing him up the whole time we were there," Gojo says through wheezes. "And he was finally talking to this chick, and she was really getting into him. I didn't mean to intrude on his parade or anything, but as my best friend, you're supposed to help me through thick and thin. I was going to ask if it was okay if I headed to the dorm alone while he stayed at this party. And then, vomit happened."

"Ewww, you terrible friend!" You try to eat a fry from your meal, but your giggles make dining difficult. "No wonder he pranked you with a weed brownie."

"Jokes on him; I still nailed my presentation for my exam. I don't remember saying anything I said, but I take pride in whatever I did to get that A." He takes a big bite of his burger and swallows before saying more. "And I started seeing the sophomore girl he talked to afterward, so checkmate."

You gasp at the information and throw a piece of your food at him, which he effortlessly catches with his hand and eats. "You petty bastard! I'm on your friend's side all the way."

"No regrets!" He hits you with his annoying chuckle that has you smiling hard, and the light above your table makes his dark sunglasses shine chicly.

"Oh, yeah?" You inquire. "I bet I could make you regret it."

The man on the other side of the booth scoffs. "Is that so? And how are you gonna do that, my pretty princess?"

You didn't think he'd buy your bluff. So, the truth is, you had no idea of how'd you punish the snow-haired man. Looking around the diner, you scope for anything that sparks a concept. You then turn to his side and notice a booth at the far end. A woman was laughing with her friends and sipping on a cocktail, making a slightly sour face after taking a drink.

And then it hits, along with a sneer, and you peer back to your date.

"You don't like alcohol, right?" He quirks up a brow at your question. "How many times have you had a drink in your life?"

"Three or four."

"Well then, I dare you to drink three or four cocktails. No milkshake or water to help you get through. Just the ice cubes in the drink."

White brows furrow, and even if the shades block them from your interpretation, you can tell Gojo is studying your face in deep thought with your so-called punishment. Ten seconds go by before he scoffs again. "I'll take up on that. On one condition," he leans back on the booth seat. "You have to take the drinks with me as well."

Now it's your turn to raise a brow and think about his words. "You're paying for the drinks."

"Done deal." He pulls his hand outward to you, initiating a handshake to set the seal in stone before continuing on with this game of yours. You happily shake his hand, commencing the punishment to officially start.

One cocktail was a breeze for you but a bit of a doozy for Gojo to stomach; you had to warn him that if he barfed on you, you'd ditch him and block him for life. Two cocktails in is when you begin feeling tingly. Your date was going through it halfway into the glass, so you had to compromise that a glass of water was needed for him.

Three cocktails in, and you undoubtedly feel the alcohol hit you behind its sweet and tangy facade. You can hardly look at the drink, same with Gojo. You two look at each other and shake your heads in disagreement, pushing the glasses to the side and groaning with your now-drunk selves.

Gojo is the first to say something. "As far as disciplines go, that was, without a doubt, one of the worst things I've had to endure."

You giggle. "Honestly. But I—hic! Excuse me. I bet you're regretting throwing up on your friend's hair now. I did it for his sake, after all."

He only looks at you through his glasses. He then gets up from his side of the booth and walks to yours, and you scoot over to let him have a seat. "Nah, don't regret it one bit. Because if I hadn't done it, I wouldn't have you over here laughing and suffering in alcohol with me about it." He maneuvers his hand to rest on your shoulder, and you allow him to move closer to you. "Wouldn't be spending this fun evening with you."

Your eyes hesitantly venture up to his face, welcoming you to the tension that builds up with the lighting and soft music of the diner. His hand rubs on your shoulder in a comforting manner, a gesture you take note of even under the influence. "You know, since you're enjoying having me and all, don't you think I should have a reward for doing your punishment with you."

"And what reward do you have in mind?"

"Can I see them?" You use a finger to motion your own pair of eyes, resulting in the snow-haired man in a short chuckle. But he doesn't argue with you and uses his free hand to remove his shades.

Icy blue is the first thing that comes to mind when you look at his eyes. His orbs are a rarity to the usual crowd, yet they go perfectly with his peachy complexion and pale hair. His orbs hooded and honed in on your figure, appearing soft because of the slight rosy shade of pink on his cheeks. You take in every single feature of his face before speaking.

"Well, I'm starting to see why so many people fall for you, Mr. Gojo." Your face goes hot with the sudden confidence that sneaks within you, yet you continue. "You're very attractive."

He chortles at your comment. "Thanks, dollface. But I don't think it's fair that you only get a reward from me. After all, I almost drowned in alcohol."

You hum. "Fair enough. What would you like?"

His face doesn't change with the following sentence he utters, but you take note of the slight squeeze on your shoulder. "A kiss from the princess would sure warm my heart."

Brows draw upward and breath hitches. A kiss? On the first date? On a blind date?

You don't know what possessed you to do this — it might have been the cocktails. But you incline your face to his and move forwards, your plump lips land on his soft ones for a simple kiss. And with the low hum of his voice, you place another. And another.

When you remove yourself from him, his eyes open to meet yours. A smile gets broader, and so does yours. "You taste sweet," you say.

"So do you." His fingers toy with the strap of your cami top. "Kinda want to kiss you more. And, you know, do a little more, only if you're up for it."

You give him a look. "I believe I just gave you a reward after receiving yours."

"I know, I know," he raises his other hand defensively, but he doesn't remove his smirk. "That's why it's up to you."

You only look at him as he waits for your answer. You already kissed the man; what more is supposed to happen on a blind date? Thoughts on what to do are carefully calculated in your mind, remembering the reason why you're even on this date in the first place. Without Nobara's stupid bet, none of this would be conspiring. Yet simultaneously, it's not like you were having a terrible time. If anything, it was quite the opposite. Not once did you feel uncomfortable around Gojo's presence or feel the need to call off the date. Just enjoying his company and character that attracts you to him more. Even if it means spending the entire night with him.

I'm already deep into this night. What's the use of stopping now.

"So?" Your eyes peer up and down on his figure. "What does 'a little more' entail?"

One moment you and Gojo were enjoying each other's company at a diner, then the date was moved to a different location the next. Now you and the white-haired man are in a cozy hotel nearby. You expressed your worries about Gojo driving you two to the new spot as he still had alcohol in his system. But your complaints fell on deaf ears as he persuaded you into trusting him ("Don't worry, it's like three streets away! Plus, it's almost midnight. No one's on the street." "If you crash us into a pole or something, don't ever ask to talk to me again." "Duly noted~" )

The two of you got yourself into a small hotel room. Soft lighting from the lamps bathes nude bodies lying on the comfortable queen-sized. You mount on top of Gojo, a makeout session warming the two of you up with the exchange of body heat. Sucking and biting each other's lips, his big hand at the back of your neck to deepen the kiss, and the grind of your hips on his firm erection makes the throbbing sensation between your legs flourish with your slick painting him.

His kisses trail down to your neck, and you allow him to venture below your clavicle. Pillowy lips pepper your chest and eventually find your breasts, taking a hardened nipple into his warm mouth.

A sharp cry exits your mouth when Gojo lightly teases your nipple with his teeth. "Mmmm! G-Gojo, pleaseee, I want it," your words come out in whimpers, your body quivering as your cunt brushes against his erect cock shielded by a rubber.

"Is that so, dollface?" He coos at your pleas, his hand running up and down the cusp of your ass and slender fingers teasing your aching entrance every time they draw nearer. "Then go on, ride on my dick like you want to."

His permission has your face go hot, but you station your hands on his chest to propel you upwards, admiring the view of him below you for a moment before lifting your ass. He moves his hands behind his head to relax, signaling you to do the work yourself and at your own pace. And with that, you do.

Your bottom raises until you position the tip of his shaft on the squish lips of your folds. Your breath hitches at the contact of his glans. His smooth voice coaxes you. "Relax, sweet thing. Take your time." You take a few moments to even your breathing and mentally prep you for your following actions. Hips gradually go down and push the cockhead further between your folds. Entry is prompted through the pain with every breath, and a sharp gasp lets you know that his girth finally enters you. And Gojo moans as well.

"Hmmm, that's it." He comments sweetly, his blue orbs tracing the union of your sexes. His hands now snake to your hips, and he throws his head back on the pillow under him. "Ready when you are, princess."

When you're ready, you move your hips downward to take in more of his member, the size of him widening your folds to accommodate the foreign limb intruding inside your vulva. His curve nudging your inner walls has your legs quake, and you concentrate on not being hasty and taking his cock all in one go. So once you finally meet the base, you exhale shaky and use a few seconds for your body to adjust.

Knowing you have the reins, you start to move. You start off with a slow speed, letting the feeling of his dick rub your walls in a steady position. Your whining is muffled with the bite of your lip, but not the man below you. He proudly expresses his pleasure in his moans, the hold on your hips getting tighter.

"Haaahhh, so good and tight," Gojo purrs, egging you to dial up your tempo. He notices you biting the bottom of your lip, and he chuckles. "Come on, baby. I wanna hear that cute voice of yours. Lemme hear it all." He then surprises you with a sudden thrust, evoking a choked cry from puffy lips.

You get the memo then and just let the pornographic noises fly, every moan getting higher and louder with the pace of your hips. His length drilling within you with each intake, and you lean forward for your clitoris to stimulate with the friction, causing you to jerk. You can't tell if it's because of the sex or the cocktails from hours ago making your nerves so sensitive and tender. But in any case, it makes you feel so good right now.

And when you lean back, the feeling gets even more ecstatic, resulting in more mewls from you. His dick goes even further than before, grazing your sweet spots and walls with precision with your increased speed. You swerve your hips in circles, having the man groan. To counter, his hand snakes down to your clitoris to play and pinch on, and you scream.

"Ahhhnn! Haaaah, Gojo! It feels so," the sounds of your ass smacking on his things are now apparent to the ears. The raunchy squelching noises of your cunt embarrass you; however, you can't deny the grip your cunt has on his cock with every rock. Your mind slowly descends into a dreamy haze. "Nnnmph!! Feels too goood, wanna commme..."

He opens his eyes to look at you; the erotic display of your nude body bouncing on his shaft turns him on even more. "Yeah, wanna come with me?" You nod lazily, earning another chortle from the man beneath you. "Alright, stay still for me."

It takes you aback when he suddenly moves up from the bed, sitting with his legs crossed under your ass and his handsome face too close to yours. You instinctively avert your gaze away from the frosty-headed other, bashfully turning your face to the side. It amuses him, guiding your face back to him with his hand. "Hehe, don't be scared of me, angel. I wanna see that beautiful face of yours."

Again, you can't tell whether or not it's the effect of the alcohol, but your face and ears go uncomfortably hot at his compliments. And now that his face is so close to yours, you can clearly take in his features. His sky-blue eyes were extremely fixated with yours, softly hooded with the flutter of his snow eyelids and in contrast with his rosy cheeks. Your heart skips a beat. What is with this beautiful motherfucker?! "Stop flirting with me in the middle of this..."

He laughs at your sheepishness, kissing your cheek. "Flirting with you is what got you here in the first place, baby. Now," his hands slither down your ass, squeezing the flesh with his fingers. "I'm gonna start moving — get ready."

He waits for you to wrap your arms around his neck and lift yourself from his legs before he begins moving his pelvis. The rash jabs of his cock leave you gasping for air and clasping around him. He hisses to your ear with his arms now wrapped around your back as he brings up the rhythm of his hips. You're now forced to bounce onto his crossed legs, his dick scraping your insides deliciously so that you can't think properly.

It's now that everything feels better than before; his member now achieving deeper penetration to the point of hitting your G-spot accurately with the underside of him. You no longer try to suppress the sounds leaving your lips, your wails bringing life to the hotel room. And Gojo's moans get louder and louder when your legs slither around him, and your ass matches the climbing cadence.

"Oooooh, fuck, Gojo! Shit, shit—Mmaah!!" With every rut to your cunt, you can feel the pounding of your head get louder and louder. "Oh, Christ, it feels tew good, so gooood...!!"

"Hnngh, mmmnph!!" Gojo groans at the pleasure, placing his sweaty forehead on yours. His eyes survey your certified expression caused by his touch. He chuckles, "You look so cute jumping on my cock like this. Such a pretty angel."

Timid by his words, you shift your face onto his shoulder to shield away from his line of sight. "Haaaah, stop saying stuff like that—Ahhhhhnnn!!"

You shriek when two fingers come down to your clitoris, the digits swiping and pinching the tender bud. "Hiding away from me again, huh, dollface?" He continues to mess with your clit ensuing in choked mewls and tears streaming down your face, and his hips increase in speed.

Your brain is a mushy mess, fighting the right to form coherent sentences. His fingers go at a hurried pace, abusing your clit. You're so close. Almost there. "Ahhh! Ahhhhh! Go-Gojo, pleaseee, I'm gonna cum—Hmmm!! Ahhaaaaaa!!!"

The peak hits you hard like a train, your body shaking uncontrollably on Gojo and his cock, the walls of your cunt fluttering beautifully on his length. And the contraction pushes him to release, his essence captured in the condom to prevent a spill.

Pants and groans fill the hot space between you two, and Gojo kisses your shoulder as the shockwaves die down with every passing second. A wave of calm covers your body while exhaustion crawls up your spine. You lift your head from his shoulder, and he's met with the most beautiful dazed expression he's ever seen.

"Heh, I should drink with you more often if it means I see you like this." He kisses your nose, and you smile.

"Oh, shut up," you remark breathlessly, and your lips meet his. He kisses you without hesitation, bringing you with him as he lies back on the bed. The sounds of his lips smacking with yours fill the room with a romantic glow, and it stays that way even when slumber claims you both.

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You're woken up by some sort of light on your eyelids and the sound of birds chirping. With a few blinks, your eyes open and are met with the sun's glaring rays peeking through the blind of the hotel window. Begrudgingly, you rise from the mattress and stretch your fatigued limbs. A massive headache greets your head without your consent, pounding it like a drum. The sheet above you slips from your figure, and you find out you slept bare nude.

Too flustered for exhaustion to take control, you grab the sheet to cover your chest, afraid that someone would've seen. The headache vanishes into thin air as you whip and search the room. But there's no one here? And you then notice the blue flannel on the side next to you. The side of the man you were on a date with.

Wait? I was with Gojo last night, right? Questions of the night prior finally come to you. Okay, wait, we went to that diner. Then we had those cocktails, which was a bad idea on my part. So what else? Oh. We kissed. Yeah...we kissed...then I got in his car and drove to this hotel room, and then...And then we.....we—

Unable to complete that thought, a sudden click catches your attention, whipping your head to the hotel door to see it open. And there he is.

Gojo enters the room with his clothes back on, his white tee and black jeans. His shades now block the beautiful eyes you had seen last night — perhaps it was a fever dream, imagining that you did see them. He's holding a paper cup, which you could only assume was tea or coffee. When he notices you, he greets you with a smile.

"Well, good morning, sunshine~" his tone gets chipper the closer he walks to the bed. Placing the cup on the bedside before grabbing for his flannel. "I brought you some tea since I'm sure your throat is sore from last night," your face heats up at the comment. "Plus, I didn't want to leave you empty-handed before I head out."

You blink at him. "You're leaving?"

"Yeah, sorry about that. Remember my friend I told you about last night?" You nod at him while he ties his blue clothing around his waist. "He texted me earlier, saying something came up with one of our other closer friends, and they need my help. He tried calling me, so I had to leave the room to let you sleep."

You hum at his confession. "I see..." How considerate.

"Hey," He climbs on the bed to be close to you. "Sorry that I can't take you back home or treat you to breakfast or something. Maybe next time."

Now that he's close to you like this, you can make out the implications of his eyes behind his dark sunglasses, blue orbs honed in on you and you alone. Your cheeks gradually go warm. "Next time?" You didn't mean for it to be a whisper, too entranced to notice.

He chuckles at your comment, and you swear your heart's beating irregularly. "Yeah, princess. I'd love to see you next time." He draws closer to kiss your forehead, and it takes every nerve in your body to not melt then and there. He then removes himself from the bed, the dent returning to normal now that his weight is off.

Gojo straightens himself and turns away from you. "Alright, I'm off. I'll leave my hotel card by the door. Text me if you need money for an Uber, 'kay?" You hear the door open. "Be good, ya hear!?" He shouts to you from the other side of the room, practically already in the hallway.

"Same to you!" You reply back in the same manner.

"No promises~." And with that comes the sound of the door closing, confirming your isolation in the now quiet hotel room. You're left to properly rekindle everything that led you up to this point, yet even then, you feel so at a loss.

As far as blind dates go — or dates in general — it's safe to say that this was the most bizarre one you've had. Not because anything dire happened. And that's probably the reason why it felt so surreal. You came into this date to release yourself from the shackles of a bet, knowing that you wouldn't see the end of it from your friend if you didn't take care of it with haste.

Nevertheless, thanks to Gojo, it didn't feel like a bet. Not at all. It felt like an actual, fun date with a new person. With a great person at that. Not once did you express any uncomfortable feelings or ill will towards Gojo. And if you did, you're sure he tended to your worries without your knowing.

"I'd love to see you next time."

His words ring in your ear once more, and they resume to do so when you exit from the bed to grab your bag on the chair next to you. You grasp the most necessary item inside — your diary — and sit at the hotel room desk to document your concluding statements appropriately.

...What happened last night was something that I had no vision of seeing. So, now that it did happen, I just feel a little...empty? Probably because I took care of Nobara's bet and don't have to worry about going on another date again.

But, deep down, a part of me wants to do it all again — Not with just anyone, but with him. What we shared yesterday was one of the most refreshing days I've had all summer. Although he was a bit childish for his mature age, maybe that made me like him even more. He was kind to me, funny, and, dare I say, an attractive guy, both in personality and physical appearance.

Thanks for the date, Satoru Gojo. And if you wish to see me again, any time at any place, know that my heart will accept with glee.

˚₊‧꒰ა Bonus ☆ Scene!! ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

Gojo exits the hotel room and walks down the hall to the elevator, whistling a tune that only he could understand. He presses the button to summon the machine to his floor, and it comes in a few seconds with the soft ding to mark its risen state. And before Gojo could fully get inside, he sensed his phone vibrating in his right jean pocket.

He grabs for it and stops whistling, tapping on the green call button and placing the device to his ear as the elevator doors close. "Morning, you man-bunned prick."

"It's midday, you blue-eyed sheep." A voice comes from the other side of his phone. "Judging by how you didn't know that, you went out last night, didn't you?"

"That's none of your business~," the white-haired man says in a sing-song manner.

"Shut the hell up~," The one on the phone returns the sentiment. "It's not like I don't know practically every person you screwed in the streets with."

The elevator door opens to the main floor, and Gojo exits to head for the entrance. "Yeah, yeah. I will say this: I had a great time with them."

"You say this about everyone who opens their legs for you."

Gojo sucks his teeth. "Well, this one really had me enjoying myself from start to finish. They were fun to be around. Shit, they even made me drink alcohol."

"Really? And you didn't barf on the spot?"

"Fuck off, Suguru." The one from the phone line — now named Suguru — chuckled at the curse thrown his way. Gojo walks out to the parking lot and enters his car. The phone call is transferred to the car's Bluetooth when the engine starts. "I don't know...They were just great to be around, ya know? Haven't had that in a while."

Suguru hums, vibrating the car with the bass systems. "Think you wanna hang with them again?"

"Mmmmm, I'd like to."

The one on the phone chuckles. "Well, don't get to whipped. Especially since you promised to be at Shoko's beach house this month, we don't want you canceling on us again because someone scheduled you for a dick appointment."

Gojo smirks at the comment. "Yeah, I won't. You'll see me." A few seconds of silence follow through until Suguru asks another question to his friend.

"So? How was the sex this time around?"

With a twinge to his lips, Gojo snickers to himself from reminiscing about the events of last night.

"Man, let me tell you..."