#i kinda want to do the coloring from the beginning

[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:

@megumisdivinedogs @witchbybirth @avatarl0v3r @mwtsxri @asherheed

@wynney @delulux3 @higurumapet @zombriesworld @xenop0p

@phoenix-eclipses @who-can-touch-my-boob @mo0nforme @reagan707 @lost-resonance

@foulprincesscycle @luniunia @alekssashka7 @beabadobeee @thexmistress

@tsukikourito @pickuptruck01 @gabriiiiiiii @4y3sh4 @tiredflame132

@cliosunshine @btszn @izayas-rings @semra4 @ethereally-lyann

@drthymby @bbyxxm @fvsm4x @sadmonke @zoinks1010

@joemama-2 @horisdope @banenemilk @nanasukii28 @spindyl

@ri-sa20 @thexmistress @mwtsxri @ritsatoru @sashisuslover

@chwesuh-imnida @megumisthirdog @imjustaweirdnerd @angelicscribe

[taglist is closed]

[genericpuff]

Wait, if Hera hated nymphs, does that mean she had beef with Poseidon's wife???

Who knows, but it does shed a whole new light on this scene from Episode 1:

Like, in the context of the scene, it's clear the point of this interaction is to highlight how "lonely" Hades is that he's the only one at the party without a date. Though I do think it's funny that Hades is frustrated / shocked at the revelation that Poseidon brought his wife to a party that she would presumably be invited to attend, like... of course Poseidon is here with his wife, that makes Amphitrite royalty by extension and so at the very least she'd likely be obligated to attend even if she, for some reason, didn't want to go.

So Hades being like "GOD you mean I'm the ONLY UNMARRIED GUY without a DATE???" like yeah man that's what it means to not be married LOL

But in hindsight, knowing what we know now about Hera being cruel to satyrs and nymphs who are canonically lower class (making it a double whammy of racism AND classism) that interaction of Hades asking Hera if Poseidon brought Amphitrite right after Hera called Minthe "nymph trash" almost feels like Hades calling her out, to which she responds sheepishly, "... Yes."

Again, I know that's not the intention of this scene, but it does come with deeper implications now that the series is over and we know that Hera has a history of racism and classism which largely goes unaddressed.

And those implications kind of read like this:

Hera: "I, for one, am grateful! I don't have to spend the evening with that nymph trash :)"

Hades: "Did Poseidon bring his (oceanid) wife?"

Hera: "(・_・;)... yes, okay, Poseidon brought his wife, Amphritite, but she's not nymph trash or anything, she's one of the good ones!"

Again though, just food for thought that's kinda messed up and kinda funny to think about on re-reads. There's so much classism and racism baked into LO even from the very beginning and it's wild that it wound up going unnoticed for years. Even I didn't really notice it as much as I ought to have when I first started reading. To anyone who's new to the series, LO does a good job at bombarding you with colors, characters, Greek myth references, and feel good fluff moments between H x P to distract you from the often biased and outdated viewpoints in its narrative.

TBH, none of that is to say that Rachel herself is some massive racist for writing a story like this, but I do think she didn't really spend enough time analyzing the works that clearly inspired her and/or challenging her own inspirations to ensure she wasn't continuing the cycle of casual racism. It's really easy to be blissfully aware of your own biases if you never learn to address them, especially when it comes to writing fantasy stories which we tend to "disconnect" from real life, never once realizing that the messages and undertones we might accidentally be sending are often still realities for many people in real life today. Fiction isn't real life, sure, but it can still perpetuate some really dog shit thought patterns and subconscious beliefs if left unchecked, which LO is frankly full of especially upon re-reads with a more critical eye when you're not as likely to get distracted or swept away by the pretty colors and whirlwind romance.

[nitrowyverine]

I think I write dating sim/VNs/etc reviews now? Anyway,

LOST IN LIMBO REVIEW/THOUGHTS

This VN piqued my interest, so I gave the demo a shot! This review will follow the same general format as my Obscura/Touchstarved review, except there's 7 (!!!) romance options.

Since I totally loved this game, I'm going to put the conclusion promo up here too: if Lost in Limbo interests you, consider playing it Here, Here on steam, and/or backing it Here!

ALSO! THIS REVIEW CONTAINS SPOILERS FOR THE DEMO!

My (long winded) thoughts are below:

(Banner image courtesy of the Ravenstar Games tumblr account pinned post. Individual character pics courtesy of tumblr posts from the studio. Individual posts are linked in character titles.)

Gameplay design thoughts:

the plot immediately sucked me in, I'm pretty invested in whatever the hell is going on with the protag, the realms, the lords, etc. I think the setup/land are deep enough to draw me in, but not so intimidating in it's depth that I'm afraid to explore more.

I always enjoy a little bit of nightmare fuel in my games, so the voidbound are perfect. They're so gross and horrible, but not just a stock zombie/nightmare creature design. Whenever the voidbound pop up, it makes the back of my neck itch, which is perfect.

I have no idea whose route I'll pick first. Usually I have one candidate that I can pick out as number 1. This game however? I go back and forth all the time, since I love all of them. I do think I have bias for Ara/Gael/Amon/Envy, maybe?

I really want to design an MC to doodle for this, but I feel like I don't know enough about other people in the realm. (Mostly, I'm assuming that standard humans don't have pointy ears? how close to our reality is the regular world?) I might say "screw it" and design an MC anyway (with some speculative clothing for once they get cleaned up)

The backgrounds have been great set pieces so far. Sometimes I catch myself just kinda staring into space at them. They've got a fantastic flavor.

Misc. Thoughts written during a replay

Fun touch to have Evie's rock image from the beginning fortune shop scene line up with the 7 LI's color schemes.

Each of the VA's does a lovely job with their voices. I've been turned off of certain dating sims because of bad voice acting, but the acting in this game is superb so far. It really helps set the richness of the story.

I have a theory that the LI's (and possibly people in Limbo in general) experience pain differently. The characters seem largely uninterested in the MC's stabbed, weakened state, beyond a "Oh that sucks....we'll clean you up later" mentality. I wonder if they have different pain tolerances, or are just less attached to such things. (Then again, Amon and Raeya have full missing limbs/eyes, so they probably have a decent perspective on pain altogether)

What does wielder/non-wielder mean? Xal says the MC "Can't wield, can't see." What do the LI's see that we don't? Ara mentions that the MC seems "Completely normal". Many mysteries.

I need those monster forms like crazy oh my goodness. Please devs PLEASE SHOW THE MONSTER FORMS

Now, to the lovely love interests!

Amon

WHO LET THIS MAN BE OVER 7 FEET TALL? PRIDE YOU HAVE SOME EXPLAINING TO DO

I only just noticed he also has a few freckles, *chefs kiss* (Waaaiit do all of them have little freckle skin textures??? Oh this is a glorious day.)

It's hard not to love a big friendly guy. I was honestly relieved when he first showed up, because I did Envy's route first, and I was thrilled to see a friendly face in the big dark scary woods.

This does not mean, however, that I'm not excited to see what this guy turns into when he's mad.

I like that he has pity for MC when they first show up, but I do worry it makes his resolve weaker. I'm not as confident that he could handle society/reality breaking down as well as the others. Can he put aside his affable nature for when shit hits the fan?

Question: What level of fight had to happen for Amon to lose his eye? He's already huge, and has some sort of telekinetic powers. My theory is that he was taken by surprise, maybe by someone close to him.....(Envy I'm looking at you)

RIP Amon you would have loved Hawaiian shirts

Conclusion: Most likely to be the camp counselor who hurts his back from always giving piggy back rides. Least likely to keep his composure during a badly timed pun/dad joke.

Raeya

I'm fighting for my life whenever shes on screen good LORD

Similarly to Amon, I GOTTA know the story behind her prosthetic arm. Its so rad looking, but how did she lose a whole arm? (I am also considering that she was also not born with one)

Playing the demo again, she makes a specific comment about the monsters having not "infected a limb" of the MC. My bet is that's how she lost her arm.

I wish I could have spent 1:1 time with her, but it wasn't offered in the demo. I'd love to have like, a sit down discussion with her about history. (Well I'd be fine getting lectured about history and drinking tea and hanging out)

Out of everyone's motivations, I think I understood Raeya's the most. Even if she was against MC, I think her concerns are completely valid. If an alien fell out of the sky from a different reality to earth I'd ALSO be taking every precaution

She and Amon have matching ear chains, that's adorable....

I hope I can take her on a nice date and spoil her and let her relax in the full game, pretty please. Nothing bad will happen right???

Conclusion: Most likely to gently remind the waiter that you said NO pickles with your order, thank you very much. Least likely to admit to being the one who farted in a crowded room.

Envy

every other line from him is "UGGGHHH" and i love that for them.

After playing, I think I've finally realized that I've got a soft spot for grumps. just grumpy lil friends with their pouty faces

I want (vivi's) Envy's nails SO BAD. I need him to do my nails because theirs are perfect. Envy, envy PLEASE

They pretend not to care, but are already getting attached to the MC by the end of the demo. I can't wait to see what they're like when they actually DO get attached

Elephant in the room, what could he have possibly done to get himself demoted so severely? Everyone seems to be fine with him being demoted except Amon, who sheepishly vouches for him when he can.

I just wanna wrap him in a blanket burrito like you do with a spicy kitten. and then give him little smooches

Conclusion: Most likely to be they guy who gets one drink at a party and sits in the corner with the dog/cat all night. Least likely to allow their partner to willingly boop their nose with any regularity.

Pride

Old man yells at cloud? No....old man IS cloud.

The dev's tumblr has mentioned that he's a pathetic old man, but for now at least, I am afraid of his authority and power. since hes like. yaknow. the big god of this world

The VA did some fabulous work for his voice. I definitely got actual chills in certain parts. 10/10

Okay, so WHAT is this guy's deal with mirrors? He looks great, why is he worried about it. I sincerely doubt he's just 52 though, if he's a god. (as a note for all these interests, I have a feeling that the ages are their physical ages, and not their actual ages. Or at least, age relative to ours. I think they're much older in our years than in their years.)

We also didn't get any 1:1 time with Pride in the demo, so I'm fascinated to see what alone time with Pride would be like. Is he quiet? a chatterbox? Just a guy??? does he only play piano and not talk to you. (power move)

Conclusion: Most likely to show up WAY over-prepared for Parent-Teacher conferences. Least likely to understand and survive the cinnamon challenge.

Ara

Certified CUTIE PIE

We got a pretty clear demonstration of everyone's powers in the demo, except for Ara. Unless it was too subtle for me to realize, I'm not actually sure what her cool powers are yet.

If she DOESN'T have plant powers I'd be very surprised.

I keep wanting to think things like "I have to protect her" or "keep her safe at all costs". But then I remember she's likely absolutely terrifying, and I honestly should be actually afraid for anyone who gets in her way.

I would like to remind/inform everyone that so far, she is the only member of the cast who is visibly armed at all times. (Raeya doesn't count even if her arm claws look really really sharp.)

If I have to pick anyone to party with, it's probably Ara. I know she'd throw an absolute rager, but would also make sure you stay hydrated. I wanna hold her hand too. Please?

I'll go butch for her, i'll do it if thats what she wants. I'm weak

Conclusion: Most likely to be able convince you to give her your kidney. Least likely to let you skip a bloodthirsty game of monopoly because you "Have a headache"

Gael

where did he find pants long enough for him.

Okay. So its HIS fault that Amon has the deepest V-cut since time immemorial. Do you think Amon and Gael had an extensive argument about the minimum amount of clothes Amon has to wear at any given time? Because I do.

His powers certainly did not. Awaken anything in me. Nope.

he has the shortest and most perfect arc from stranger -> friendly -> ???? -> BETRAYAL

I am MASSIVELY curious about his dissociation/spacing out during the demo. He was 8 million miles away in the tower for some reason, and I HAVE to find out why. I just KNOW this man is doing some questionable shit with good intentions and I can't wait to find out what it is.

So, he has SOME issue with touch. No idea what it is, but I can't wait to find out what it is. Also noting he's the only one with full-coverage gloves in the cast. Interesting...

Conclusion: Most likely to cry after being sent those sad FB/insta animal stories. Least likely to let you open your own car/carriage/etc door under any circumstances.

Xal

He looks so soft. I have to bully him, in a good way. (Like grim from Date with Death)

I am fascinated as to why he would lie for MC. That's such a great hook to his character. What does a guy who so desperately wants to be left alone have to see to stick his neck out for a stranger?

SOMEONE get this man a NINTENDO DS POST HASTE

THIS GAME HAS TO GET FUNDED BECAUSE XAL SAYS HE HAS A CAT AND I WANT TO SEE IT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I will do it, I will be the one to tuck him in when he is too eepy. I will carry him to bed and kiss his little head good night

Wait, if he can "Figure something out" by touching it, he could be like, the worlds greatest doctor. Xal please get off the couch and help me diagnose mystery ailments in a medical sitcom

Conclusion: Most likely to injure himself rigging up a Rue Goldberg machine to scratch his back. Least likely take it easy on you once he learns how to play super smash bros. (He's a fox/falco main)

Concerns:

What the Ravenstar team has already been able to accomplish is incredible. I'm worried that with 7 whole love interests (with a possible two more on the way if the kickstarter goes well), i'm worried the devs are taking on a whole lot of work. I think they're fully capable of taking this on, but I hope they don't burn themselves out in the process.

I'm pretty happy to see the kickstarter is moving along, but there's always the chance that something happens, and/or the kickstarter goal isn't met. BY THE TIME I FINISHED WRITING THIS IT GOT FUNDED LETS GOO!!! I still hope this project makes it all the way to completion beyond the kickstarter. Things can always happen, so Ive got my fingers crossed for the Ravenstar team!

OVERALL CONCLUSION:

I loved the demo, and I have now backed the project! The team is trying to hit stretch goals now, so share Lost in Limbo with your buddies! I crave content for this game like nothing else.

[loafbud]

The first Splatoon game turned 8 yesterday!

[animationismycomfort]

I wish twdg explored more on how though human beings can become closer through awful times…..sometimes that’s not always the case

[smultronviol]

Tfw you get back into stand still stay silent only to realize that yeahhhh the author kinda delved into religious extremism in a way that i don't really feel comfortable having her art as my icon anymore lol

Gotta change it to Toph Time instead

[laligraves]

morning run

joel miller x fem!reader

[18+] | wc: ~ 2.8k summary: Joel overhears your argument with the neighbor. masterlist | AO3

warnings: HBO Joel, TLOU AU, dubious consent (i'm so serious, don't read if it makes you uncomfortable), NSFW, pre/no outbreak, some proofreading, Joel is a tall and very strong man, older man/college-aged reader, Joel lives in a wealthy neighborhood with an HOA (homeowners association), no use of y/n or too many details on reader's appearance, somewhat public setting, breeding kink (kinda), fingering, squirting, unprotected sex, creampie

“These HOA people are vultures,” your sister mutters. 

You look up from your laptop and watch out the window as the committee leaves on their golf cart, most likely on their way to torment another house on the block. 

“Is it that big of a deal that my flower garden has the wrong color of roses?” 

“There’s a wrong color of roses?” you ask in confusion. 

“Yes! The president of the HOA, Susan,” you sister spits out in disdain, “only wants light pink roses on this block.” 

She slams the written warning on the entrance table and storms off into the kitchen. “I’m not sure how her husband stands her. I guess that’s why he spends so much time at the golf course.” 

You follow her into the kitchen, partly because you want a break from your assignments and also because you want to hear more gossip about her new neighborhood. 

“You know she made me pay a fine because my car was left on the driveway after hours? It’s my driveway!” 

You raise your eyebrows in surprise. “Suddenly, I’m not so jealous about your new place.” 

She throws a sponge at your head. 

“Why don’t you just say no?” you ask as you narrowly dodge the sponge. 

“I’ve tried so hard to be nice to everyone here. But all Susan does is turn people against me. Everytime I walk outside to grab the mail or go to work, people give me dirty looks!” 

You don’t like seeing your sister like this. It’s her home. One she worked very hard to buy in this wealthy neighborhood. No one has the right to make her feel like an outsider. So you develop a plan. 

You find out Susan’s schedule fairly easily. Every morning at 8 a.m. she walks her husband to his car and kisses him goodbye before he leaves for work. She then walks back inside for her notebook and pen to then walk around the neighborhood. 

She stops at every house to ensure it fits her standards and if they don’t, she leaves a written warning on the front door. During the weekends, she and her gang of friends drive around on a golf cart to give out even more citations. 

So at exactly 7:55 A.M., you make your way to her house. You’re careful in the outfit you chose this morning: a tight sports bra and running shorts. She, and most importantly her husband, are definitely going to notice you. 

You slow down as you round the corner, already seeing her husband place his briefcase in the backseat of his beamer. She walks right behind him with a lunch pail and kisses his cheek. You shout out a good morning and watch as they both turn to look at you. 

Her right eye immediately begins to twitch and she plasters on a fake smile. His eyes do an appreciative sweep of your body as he walks to the end of the driveway. 

“Good morning! Susan,” he says turning to his wife, “why didn’t you tell me we had a new neighbor?” 

He grasps your hand and gives it a firm shake. His thumb caresses the back of your hand as he slowly lets go. Susan finally reaches the both of you and grabs onto her husband's arm to pull him away. 

You give him a sweet smile, pushing your chest out in a calculated move so he has no choice but to look.   

“I’m just visiting my sister over on Ocean Avenue. The neighborhood is so nice I thought it would be perfect for my morning runs.” 

“I agree, you can run anytime you want–” 

“Sweetie,” Susan interrupts in a high-pitched voice, “you’re going to be late.”

He asks for your name and what you’re studying in college, then shakes your hand again while Susan seethes next to the driver’s side door. He drives off, promising a tour of the country club later that day. You're left standing alone with Susan, just as you wanted.  

“Look here, young lady,” she snarls, “this is a neighborhood full of families. Not some frat house. We do not allow blatant displays of–of–well this ,” she says as she motions to your workout attire. “I am going to write your sister a citation for this disrespectful action.” 

“Well, that does make me sad. I guess I’ll have to ask your husband to cheer me up later when I visit him.” 

Her face turns beet red and you wonder briefly if steam will come out of her ears. “What did you just say?” 

“Your husband was so nice in inviting me to the country club, how can I say no? I really need to work on my swing–” 

“You stay away from my husband,” she whispers, pointing a finger at your face, “or I will find a way to run your sister out of this neighborhood.” 

“Leave my sister alone,” you say as you walk right up to her and push her finger out of the way, “or I’ll fuck your husband.”

Susan gasps, dramatically placing a hand over her mouth. 

“I’ll make sure he finishes inside me, too. Maybe give him a baby.” 

With that, you continue your jog down the sidewalk. You don’t notice Susan’s neighbor, who stands by his gate and watches you run off.  

- 

You continue your jogs for the next few days, waving at Susan and her husband every morning. You and Susan come to an unspoken agreement: she stops bothering your sister and you make sure to stay away from her husband. 

Just as you jog past her house, you notice an envelope on the sidewalk. It’s next to a brick mailbox that has the name Miller written on a plaque. You check the envelope and sure enough you see it's made out to a Joel Miller . 

You walk up to the iron gate that matches the address and call out a hello , but no one answers. There’s red roses that wrap around the expansive gate which look and smell beautiful, but block your view inside. You test the handle of the gate and luckily it opens. 

“They must’ve dropped it when getting the mail this morning,” you mumble to yourself. 

“Mornin’, doll,” a gruff voice calls out to your right. 

You jump slightly and turn to look, finding a man crouched by the gate. He stands to his full height and you have to tilt your head up just so you can keep eye contact. 

“Good morning,” you whisper. 

He’s older and handsome, much more attractive than the college boys you're used to. He places his gardening shears down and takes off his gloves to shake your hand. You do your best to control the shiver that courses through your body at the touch of his warm skin. 

“Joel,” he states, swiping his other hand through his salt and pepper hair. 

You open your mouth to say your name, but he beats you to it. 

“How did you know–” 

“I heard your conversation with Susan the other day,” Joel interrupts with a slight smirk. 

His hand tightens for a moment until he lets go, dragging his fingers over your palm. You feel embarrassment wash over your body and you quickly hand him the envelope. 

“Right–um, how much of the conversation did you hear?” 

He lets out a laugh and drops the envelope into a basket that you’ve now just noticed. It’s full of the same red roses that cover his gate. 

“Just the part where you threatened to fuck her husband if she didn’t leave your sister alone,” he says, placing his hands on his hips. “Effective threat, it seems.” 

His eyes sweep over your body and you become hyper aware of the workout clothes you're wearing. Once again, a sports bra and running shorts. 

“She’s backed down,” you say after a few moments, crossing your arms to cover your pebbling nipples. 

“So,” he continues while walking closer, “you offerin’ to fuck every man on the block or just her’s?” 

His words send a shock wave through your body, landing right between your legs. You ignore the pulsing in your cunt and instead lift your hand to slap him across the face. 

As if he’s able to sense what you’re about to do, he catches your wrist before your hand makes contact with his face. 

“How dare you–”  

“Don’t act so innocent now,” he growls, pushing your body against the gate. “You told Susan you were going to let ‘em fill you up. Put a baby inside of you.” 

Your back makes contact with the gate, luckily in a place where there’s no thorns. You try to push out of his hold, confused at how much you enjoy being manhandled by an older man you just met. 

“Let me go or I’ll scream–”

“Joel?” a familiar high-pitched voice interrupts you. “Are you there?” 

Your body stills at the sound of Susan’s voice. Theoretically, you could use this opportunity to scream for help. Sure, you’d have to face Susan again, but you’d be able to escape. 

Except, Joel manages to pick up your lower body and push his jean-covered cock right against your cunt. You wrap your legs around his waist to not fall and place one hand on the iron gate behind you.

He rocks against you, moving a finger in front of his mouth, motioning you to stay quiet. Your mouth drops open in surprise as he grabs your hips and begins to grind you down on him. 

“Yes, ma’am. What can I help you with?” Joel responds. 

She tries to open the gate and you press your body back so she won’t see you. You’re not quite sure why you’re trying to hide. 

“Joel, honey. Your gate is locked,” she says. “Come unlock it and let me in.”  

Through your daze, you faintly register her tone. Did she just call him honey?  

“Sorry, Susan. It does that sometimes. I’ve got my hands full at the moment,” Joel calls out, giving you another hard thrust. 

You bite your lip to stop the moan that threatens to escape. 

“That’s okay, I just wanted to stop by and warn you about the young lady that’s staying with her sister over on Ocean Avenue.” 

Joel raises his eyebrow and stops his movements, dropping your thighs from his hold. You're shocked again, feeling dejected that he’s stopping.  

He quickly spins you around and bends you over, pushing a hand between your thighs. You grab onto the iron gate once more and slap a hand over your mouth as he begins to rub a big hand over your thin shorts. 

“Warn me?” he calls out. “What’s this young lady been up to?” 

“Well, that–that– tramp ,” Susan spits out, “is acting in ways that she shouldn’t. I know you’re a hardworking man who has done so much for our community and the last thing I want is this girl making you uncomfortable.” 

Joel yanks down your shorts and plunges a thick finger inside of you. You’d roll your eyes at her words but instead they're rolling into the back of your skull. He thrusts his finger a few times and calls out a is that right to Susan. 

Joel adds another finger and you almost fall at the stretch. If those are just his fingers, you wonder how big his cock is. He uses his other hand to keep you steady and continues to fuck you with his thick fingers while talking to her. 

“I just,” Susan continues, “I don’t know what to do. Maybe we can find a way for the sister to leave? If we all band together?” 

Joel removes his hand from between your legs and places it on your back to keep you in place. This time you actually struggle in his hold, wanting to face Susan and give her a piece of your mind. 

“Now, Susan,” Joel admonishes, “don’t go blaming the sister for the younger one’s actions. There’s no need to be spiteful to our new neighbor. There’s more than enough room in this neighborhood for everyone.” 

You stop, surprised that Joel is standing up for your sister. He presses against you and you feel the roughness of his jeans on your bare skin. He brings you in close, gently rubbing his crotch on your slick cunt. 

“Oh, you’re so right, Joel. I just get so caught up in the politics of the HOA. I want this community to be perfect.” 

A wet glob of spit lands on your asshole and you clench in surprise. Joel quietly unzips his jeans and takes out his cock. 

“Fucking perfect little asshole,” he whispers, pushing the tip of his cock right on your hole. “Not today, baby. Today is that juicy, little cunt.” 

You arch your back and barely manage to stifle a whimper when he teases the tip of your entrance. 

“What was that, Joel?” Susan calls out. 

“That the community is already perfect, Susan.” 

His voice sounds annoyed at this point. 

“You think so, Joel? Thank you, I–” 

Joel uses that moment to plunge inside of you, bumping your g-spot and reaching so deep that you choke on your own spit. 

“I’m getting a call, Susan,” Joel says through gritted teeth, “I’ll speak to you later.” 

Susan gives a sad goodbye while you bite on your hand to stop your moans. Joel is big, much bigger than any of the boys in your past. Your pussy spasms and flutters over his length and you breathe in deep to adjust to the size. 

“S’tight,” he mutters, ”keep quiet f’me, doll. Too many people on the sidewalk at this time of mornin’.” 

You hum in response, wanting him to fuck you, to stretch you and make you come on his cock. He starts a rhythm, keeping one hand on your waist so you match his thrusts and the other slips between your thighs. 

Sticky wetness drips down your inner thighs and he swipes two fingers through the mess to bring them up to your clit. Joel pistons faster, rubbing harsh circles on your clit that have you accidently whimpering in pleasure. 

“I know, baby,” he coos, “feels so good, doesn’t it?” 

“ Y–yes ,” you whisper. 

“Showing off that pretty body when runnin’ around the neighborhood,” he groans. “Picking fights and trespassing. Just needed someone to fuck some manners into you.” 

Your fingers curl into the iron gate and your back arches even deeper. He speeds up, becomes harsher in his thrusts once he notices your pussy become softer, wetter, gripping his cock with each plunge. 

“Little cunt can barely take my cock,” Joel groans, “fuck, doll. You’re choking me.”

You wish you could bite his neck, leave red hickeys on his tan skin that you imagine tastes like salt and roses and spearmint. Your head spins from lust and you feel the coil in your belly, ready to burst at any moment. 

You hear voices, people walking past on the sidewalk for some early morning exercise. Joel lands a quick slap, slap to your clit and your cumming, clenching hard on his length while you fall apart. 

Your vision blurs and you faintly hear him say there you go, make a fuckin’ mess on me . Wetness spills from your cunt, only making it easier for Joel. You bite hard on your bottom lip to stop the whimpers and your fingers curl into the iron gate. 

“Gonna cum inside this pussy, put a baby in there,” he whispers. 

“ Please, Joel,” you whine. 

He brings your back to his chest, molds his lips to your neck and bites down, moving you like his personal fleshlight. Joel groans in your shoulder and then you feel it, hot pulses of cum, filling you up. 

You hold onto his arm that's branded across your chest and squeeze down on him, milking every drop from his body, wanting it to mark you deep inside.

Joel's body trembles from the exertion and he stumbles as he finishes, turning his body to lean on the iron gate with you still attached to his cock.

He keeps you pressed to him for a few moments, keeping his nose pressed to your neck as he breathes deep. Your own breathing regulates and you become aware of the sensitivity all over your body.

Joel stands straight and gently pulls out. He reaches into his jeans pocket to reach for a clean handkerchief that he uses to clean up between your thighs.

"Same time tomorrow?" he asks.

You manage a rough fuck off and lightly push at his shoulders. He laughs and helps you fix your clothes. He swipes your phone that fell on the ground the moment he pushed you to the gate, having you unlock it so he can put in his phone number.

You make it back home a few minutes later, sore but for the most part, satiated . Your sister gets home hours later, once you've relaxed in her ginormous bathtub and washed away the evidence of your morning run.

"Are you seeing someone?" she teases as she walks in.

"What? No, why?"

"Someone left a giant bouquet of red roses on the porch." 

Sure enough, you find a bouquet of familiar red roses on the front doorstep. You don’t need a notecard to know who they're from. 

[makedamnsvre]

i want to change my blog again but to what. explodes.

[yanderederee]

Orange Theory

Bofurin Edition

concept: The Orange Peel Theory is from a viral trend where you ask your partner to bring you an orange. If they bring it to you peeled and ready to eat, it indicates that they're thoughtful and caring. If they bring it to you with the rind still on, it could indicate a lack of consideration.

a/n:I tried sticking as closely to their character colors as I could٩( ᐛ )و I also tried including as many characters as I could, even lesser written characters like Tsubakino/Taiga/Kiryu/lowkey Kaji too lol… I hope you like and agree!♡

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯✦

Sakura Haruka

Poor boy would be so lost.

“I’m really craving an orange…” you mumbled to yourself.

“There’s some in the kitchen.” Sakura would reply casually, popping another grape in his mouth.

You’re silent for a while. Eventually he picks up on it and looks at you with a raised brow. “What’s up?” He’d ask.

“Can… you bring it to me please?” You’d ask. Sakura wouldn’t mind. He’d simply nod and hoist himself up, walk into the kitchen, and return with two unpeeled oranges. “I kinda want one too…”

He hands you one, distracted by the group chat on his phone as he began to peel the orange in his hand.

You were beginning to give up on the test, looking down at the unpeeled orange solemnly. “You haven’t touched your orange, you okay?” He’d ask, cluelessly.

“Im fine..” you’d reply, feeling silly for feeling so distant.

Sakura knows something’s up, so instead, he leans over, and takes the orange from your hand, replacing it with orange he had just peeled from his other hand. “If you wanted me to peel it for you, ya couldn’a said somethin’.”

Overall; 4/10. He sees you as a person who can do simple things for themselves, and may only feel the need to act more considerate if he notices you having a hard time.

Suou Hayato

The two of you decided on having a movie night at your place, and Suou thought it’d be courteous to bring a bag of oranges with him as a gift.

“You know what they say, oranges being good luck and prosperity.” (I was the one who wrote this and I still expected to proof-read ‘an orange a day keeps the doctor away.’)

Before you even had the chance to ask for one, he’s asking to use your kitchen to fix one up for you.

You agree, trying to watch him from the kitchen entrance. He smiles sweetly at you and politely asks you to wait for him in the movie viewing area.

It’s curious, but you do as he says.

He returns soon with a plate, neatly peeled and decorated.

Also asks if you would prefer a fork, if you didn’t want to risk getting your fingers sticky. It’s a little over the top, but he’s only trying to be considerate.

Overall: 11/10, He even saves the peels for Umemiya to use as compost. Encourages you to eat the entire plate, but will indulge in one if you insist.

Nirei Akihiko

Nirei asked if you’d like to binge your favorite show that night. As you both stopped by the store to pick up snacks for the binge, you remembered a couples trend, centered around the oranges in front of you.

You bought a couple, the excuse for them being one of your snacks for the night. Sweet Nirei praises you for making such a healthy snack choice, and even inspires him to put back some of his own snacks to live up to your example.

Just as you were about to begin the binge, you got very comfortable on the couch, and batted your eyelashes at your sweet boyfriend. “Can you bring me an orange please? I forgot them in the kitchen..”

Immediately agrees and hops up from beside you and to the kitchen.

He’s very happily humming to himself as he’s concentrating on the orange, walking back to the couch trying to get a good peel started.

Poor Nirei is so bad at it though, only able to peel off little bits of rind at a time. Half way through the first episode, the orange is crudely peeled, and he’s holding a slice out to you for you to eat.

Overall: 9/10, while its poor, he peels the orange with no indication you need him to, and feeds it to you one by one. ♡

Sugishita Kyotaro

Oh no.

Umemiya led you to Furin’s back yard area, eager to show you and Sugishita the fruits(haha) of his labor; a freshly grown baby orange tree.

Sugishita is immensely proud of his senior, and praises him for his hard work. Umemiya sends you two off with only one orange, since he needs to share the few he did receive from this harvest with the others.

At first, Sugishita doesn’t want to eat it. He wants to preserve it for as long as he can because it was something his previous Umemiya grew.

After a few comments like “It’ll go bad soon, you wouldn’t want Umemiya-san’s efforts to go to waste, would you?”

No way in hell would Sugishita allow that.

Sugishita hands you the orange, perhaps too nervous of accidentally crushing the fruit with his immense strength.

If you’re too slow on the take to peel it, he will accept the task. However, his worries are warranted, you discover, when he shares a slightly soft and dripping orange with you.

Overall: 5/10. He’ll initially wait for you to peel the orange, but he’s too impatient and will offer to do it instead. It’s slightly crushed, but that’s okay.

Hiragi Toma

You asked Hiragi to come over and help you with some yard work. Of course he’s happy to help.

During a break from the work, you lazily asked him to bring you an orange while sitting in front of the box fan.

He chuckles, kisses your sweaty cheek, and walks off to fulfill your request.

It takes him a minute, until he asks from the door way, “Can I go ahead and make some juice outta these?”

You blink wide at him, unexpectedly. “If… if you want to.” You mumble in response.

He nods, hustling back into the kitchen, before he begins peeling multiple oranges, and blending them up and straining them to make a fresh orange juice.

He returns with two full glasses and a half pitcher resting in your fridge. “You’ve worked hard today, hopefully this helps.”

Overall: 11/10, one of Hiragi’s love languages is acts of service, and of service he is to you all the time. Mr. “You want it? I got it.”

Kiryu Mitsuki

Sweeet sweet baby.

The two of you are just hanging out in his room, listening to whatever bedroom-pop song he put on while you both scrolled on your phones.

You come across the orange theory while on a social media app; and grin.

“Mitsuu~ I’d like an orange~.” You singsong to your boyfriend.

Kiryu looks up from his phone, and lazily hums. “Good idea~ can you bring me up one too?” He asks.

Your mouth almost hits the floor at his casual tone, but it ends when you see him hoist himself up from the bed, laughing “Just kidding angel~ I’ll be right back.”

Holding one of his many plushies close to your side, you wait for your boyfriend.

Kiryu returns with an unpeeled orange and a knife. The knife takes you by surprise at first, but once he sits at his little table and begins working on the orange, you realize he’s cutting it into sections with the rind on.

He offers you a slice with a lazy smile. Once you take it, he quickly pops a slice into his own mouth, making a cute wide orange smile.

The unexpected action sends you into a fit of laughter, your adorable boyfriend only grinning wider and blushing at how cute you are.

Overall: 10/10 I guess? He loves seeing you smile and actively does things to make you do so.

Kaji Ren

Oop

The two of you will be chilling on the Furin rooftop, enjoying the cool breeze and quiet hours, now that everyone was finally gone.

The only sound coursing through the air was the music escaping from his headphones, which lay carefully by his side, instead of his neck, so you could both enjoy the tune.

A bag of snacks lay between the two of you. You felt a bit peckish, so you glanced over at the bag and spotted an orange. Quickly, you get the idea to test the orange theory.

“Re~n, could you give me the orange?” You ask, feigning your inability to get it yourself as he was closer to the bag than you were.

Kaji looked over and spotted the orange from the bag. He reached over with ease and made a gesture like he was preparing to underhand throw it at you.

You quickly crossed your arms to show you did Not want him to throw it. He considered his options for a second, before huffing, sitting up, and leaning over so the orange was just a few inches from your reach.

‘Damn.’ You frowned. ‘Maybe this wasn’t the right opportunity to ask?’

Kaji noticed the disappointment on your face, but even after staring at you and trying to figure out what was causing your sour mood, he couldn’t imagine why. He gave you the orange just like you asked, and didn’t throw it.

“What?” He asks bluntly, causing you to flinch. “Nothing.” You replied back, closing your eyes to enjoy the evening breeze once again.

However, your answer was unsatisfactory, and your orange was left untouched. He really had no idea what he did wrong.

Kaji walks over to you, and squats to glare at you. “Quit lyin’ ‘n just spit it out.” He’d press. If you kept being stubborn, he’d just tickle you ruthlessly until he got his answer.

“T-the orange..! Aha—it, ehe… it w-was a test!” You yelped. Once you came clean, Kaji would stop just for a second to let you explain further.

Once you explained it clearly for him, his expression only soured further, tickling you even more sternly. You screamed for him to stop but he refused.

“That’s so dumb, of course I care about you. If you want me to peel a damn orange just say so, ‘n I’ll do it.” He huffed, finally releasing you and sitting by your side.

Overall, 1/10. Kaji is extremely caring and indeed will do anything for you, as long as he knows what’s expected of him. He’s doesn’t much appreciate his affections being tested in such a lame way though.

Taiga Tsugeura

Sweet angel child

You agreed to come over to his house and spot him as he did his usual muscle training routine.

Once he’s finally tired himself out, he begins talking about wanting a healthy snack. He’s going through the options he has while raiding through his cabinets.

As he does this, you notice a load of fruit in his fruit bowl. “You should eat a banana Taiga. Would you mind getting me an orange while you’re there, please?” You’d ask him nicely.

He grins as bright as the sun at your suggestion. “Great thinkin’ Y/n!!” He’s quick to grab both the banana and orange from the bowl. Before he can hand you the orange, his grin becomes more mischievous.

“Check this out,” he says with pride, holding the fruit in both hands. Then, with a quick snap, he rips the orange in half.

You’re BAFFLED. mouth agape and simply, STUNNED. Your shocked expression is all he wanted. He laughs hard, and displays the two halves face up, his own face in the middle.

“Cool huh!” He asks, before doing the same thing with the banana. “Want me to break the rest up for ya?”

Honestly, you aren’t sure what to say.

Overall: 7/10. He… does? It? But it’s more because he wants to show off a cool skill of his than he’s doing it for your sake. He also always asks you if you want him to peel your oranges, so… the thought is there.

Tsubakino Tasuku

Aaaaahh! (Post edited to use he/him pronouns)

You were cuddled up with Tsubaki in his bed after a long day. After a well deserved nap, you woke up when Tsubaki gently slid out from under you, assumingely to use the bathroom or something necessary.

Groggily, you reached out your hand, and whined. “Dar~ling~ ‘so snacky… can.. you bring me back… an orange… pleeeeasssse…”

Tsubaki thought you were the absolute cutest. “Of course my dove~” he would kiss your forehead and pat your hair down sweetly. “I’ll be right back.”

You fell back asleep, but when you did wake up, you saw Tsubaki only a few feet away painting his nails. “Ah! You fell asleep before I got back, you know!” He pouted.

You giggled an apology, and looked around for the orange you’d asked for. “On the nightstand darling.” Tsubaki helped direct you.

You are not expecting to look over and see a dazzling fruit assortment waiting for you. Halved grapes, thinly sliced strawberries, heart shaped banana slices, and bite sized mandarin oranges, all neatly assorted in a bowl…. With a sprinkle of sugar making the entire display shine.

You’re stunned, gasping at the beautiful display. “It’s so cute!! All for me?” You asked, glazed eyes seeking your partner out. He giggled back. “Of course all for you~ enjoy!” And blew you a kiss.♡

Overall: ∞/10. Are you kidding me? Tsubaki ABSOLUTELY would go ABOVE and BEYOND for the ones he loves, ESPECIALLY his partner. PUT SOME RESPECT ON BABE’S NAME RIGHT NOW OR SO HELP ME!!!

Umemiya Hajime

As much as your boyfriend wishes he could grow a fruit tree of his own, he knows that they take time. So, he settles for easy to grow vine fruits like Strawberries and blueberries.

He loves making you an assortment of berries, and presenting them to you with love. It’s so so very sweet.

ALWAYS encourages you to eat vegetables and fruits, even if you’re not in the mood for them. “They’re super good for your health y/n!”

So you indulge him.

When it’s you who’s asking instead, “Can you bring me an orange please?” He’s elated.

“YES MA’AM!” He all but yells, rushing to get you just that.

Umemiya returns with two imperfectly peeled oranges. He’s a little clumsy with it, but he’s just excited.

Loves sharing food with you and will hand feed you them like a goddess.

Overall, 12/10. The assignment is to gauge one’s thoughtfulness, and Umemiya blows it out of the water. He wants nothing but the best for you and aims to give it to you tenfold.

[zweigsons]

ride the cowboy

dodge mason x f!reader smut

summary: dodge has a really stupid rule about a hat that you'd never even seen him wear. but, it's not too big of a deal in the end

etc: nsfw, finger-fucking, unprotected piv

a/n: so like i might write a dodge x MALE reader soon bc apparently hes confirmed bi>??? and im tecnhnically a dude so like #perfect

word count: 1,993

“Why do you have a cowboy hat on your dashboard?” You asked with a snort, taking the cream colored hat off of the dash. You had asked Dodge to take you home after work, seeing as the motor in your windshield wipers had died in the middle of rain season. 

He glanced over at you briefly as he started his car. “Sometimes I need one. Just in case.” 

You giggled, “No one ever needs a cowboy hat.” You began to put it on your head before shooting him a skeptical glance, “You don’t have lice, do you?” 

He let out an offended scoff, reaching his hand over and playfully pushing your head. “No. I don’t have lice.” 

“Hmm, okay.” You placed the hat on your head. He gave you a funny look, but you dismissed it. “Does it suit me?” You asked with a giggle.

“Mhm, it does.” He chewed on his bottom lip as he drove, glancing at you every few moments. “You ever heard of the rule?”

“Shut up, what rule?” You asked, drawing your knees up to your chest. 

His smile quirked to the side and then he shook his head. “Nothing, nothing. Nevermind.” 

“No, tell me! You can’t keep getting away with being all dumb and mysterious.” 

“You think I’m mysterious?” 

“Did you hear me say dumb?”

He rolled his eyes, “I chose to ignore that.” 

“Dodge. What rule?” 

“Fine. Since you’re so insistent. Wear the hat, ride the cowboy.” 

You knit your brows together, “Ride the…?” Then it clicked. You grinned, “So you wanna fuck me?” 

He sucked on his teeth, “You put the hat on. Kinda sounds like you wanna fuck me.” 

“Shut up.” Then you paused, looking at him. “I mean… I do. I have for a while.” 

He coughed, pink from his cheeks to his ears. “Yeah? I can do that.” 

“I sure hope you can,” You muttered, fiddling with the brim of the hat. It was too large for you, and it tipped down, covering your eyes. 

“So… your place?” He asked, and you noticed how his fingers tapped nervously on the steering wheel. 

You hummed, “My mom’s at work, and my siblings are at an overnight camp. So, yeah. My place.” 

You had never seen someone drive so fast yet so carefully after you said that. 

He pulled into your driveway and you started to take the cowboy hat off of your head, but he stopped you. “It makes it hotter for me if you keep it on.” 

He had that stupid lilting smirk on his face so you knew it had to be a joke, but you kept it anyway. Even if it seemed to make a point of slipping down. 

The two of you rushed inside of your worn down little house and he kissed you as soon as you closed the door. You giggled, pushing him back. “Easy, cowboy.” 

“Yeah, cowgirl?” 

You grinned, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt and pulling him down to kiss him again, soft and slow. The brim of the hat was pushed up as the two of you stumbled over to the couch. His hands were on your waist as you were perched prettily on top of him. 

His hands sifted under your shirt, calloused fingers tracing lines into your skin. He finally knocked the hat off as he pulled your shirt off, leaning up and beginning to gently kiss your chest. He made a point of leaving marks on the soft flesh of your breasts and you found yourself giggling. “Dodge. C’mon.” 

“Mmh, c’mon? What do you want me to do?” He asked it slyly, licking your collarbone. 

You shivered, “Shut up.” 

He nibbled at your neck, “Can’t. Tell me what you want, okay?” 

You throbbed in your underwear and readjusted your position on top of him. “I want you to fuck me.” 

“We’ve established that. Tell me how.” 

You pouted, “You’re so demanding.” You had to actually think about it for a second. Most of the fantasies about him that you’ve had were centered around his rough hands and a fast pace. You started to unbutton your jeans and then reached at the hem of his shirt. He was smart enough to take the hint and tugged his shirt off. Fuck, abs. Abs and arms and his neck and, actually, everything about him. “I want you to finger me. Make me cum on your fingers and then we can see about the whole ‘ride the cowboy’ thing.” 

His eyes widened and he grinned, “Anything you want.” He saw the look on your face when he said that and added, “I’m serious.” 

“Shut up. Get to work.” 

“Yes, ma’am.” He layered on a fake southern accent and it made you giggle. 

He flipped you back and pulled your pants down your waist. You wouldn’t tell him this, but being out of your work pants almost felt better than the coming pleasure. His fingers gently skirted on your underwear and you fidgeted, impatient for him to touch you where you wanted it. 

“Dodge,” You whined, wiggling your hips again. 

He smirked, “Baby. Patience.” The way he slipped into the petname made you melt. 

You were about as patient as you could be, though. “Did I ask for you to take five million fucking years?” You asked, propping yourself up on your elbows. 

He looked like he was biting back a laugh. “No,” He admitted, fingers finally breaking the waistband. His fingers traveled further down, finally sliding over your pussy. You gasped, throwing your head back. “You’re so wet,” He murmured, two of his fingers teasing your entrance. It seemed like he was going to be stubborn with it. 

“Yeah, I am, Andrew. If you don’t hurry up and make me cum, I’m going to do something, like, evil.” 

“Evil? Like what,” He chuckled, his middle finger finally starting to poke into you. 

You groaned, his finger stretching you out more than your own ever could. “Like… cut your dick off… or something,” You found it hard to focus on what you were saying when his ring finger was joining the other inside of you and, God, it was better than anything you could’ve imagined. 

“That’s dark,” He pointed out, thick fingers sliding all the way inside of you. 

You let out a small squeak when he curled his fingers up and he grinned upon your reaction. “Good?” He asked softly.

You sighed, “Good. Would be better if you moved more, though.” 

“Bossy,” He muttered, even as he complied with your request. His fingers, curled up at that angle, began to move in and out of you. You gasped, hands flying up to dig your nails into his neck. 

The pace of his hand sped up and he leaned in, kissing your neck as he fucked you on his fingers. He changed the angle slightly and his thumb rubbed at your clit as he still managed to thrust his fingers. 

“Nnh, Dodge,” You whined, locking your legs around his. 

“Use your words,” He said, beginning to suck another hickey onto your chest. 

“Fuck you,” You panted out. Then, “I’m gonna cum.” 

You felt him grin against you, “Go ahead, honey.” His voice was so sweet and he curled his fingers again, at just the right angle, and you were coming undone. 

You panted shakily as he took his fingers out of you. Still coming down from your orgasm, you watched him lick his fingers clean. Your cunt throbbed at the sight and you thought about it–riding him. 

You pushed him back and told him, “Take your dick out.” 

He laughed, taking two of your fingers into his mouth and nibbling on them for a moment, “Did your mama not teach you manners?” 

“Nope,” You replied, fiddling with his belt buckle. 

“Lemme do it for you.” 

He unbuckled his belt and then undid his pants. You lifted your hips and wet your lips as he slid his pants down his legs. Another part of his body that was perfectly toned–you thought about grinding on his thighs briefly. Though, your attention was mainly focused on his cock. The erection tenting his boxers was one that made your mouth water a little. You thought of him filling you up and it made you twinge with want. 

You rested on his thighs and you smoothed your hands down his torso, stopping at the waistband of his boxers. You cheekily hooked a finger into the waistband, pulling it back and letting go, giggling as it snapped against his skin. “You’re such a little tease,” He said with a grin. 

“I try my hardest,” You said, tugging at the garment again. This time, he shifted his hips up and let you pull them off of him. 

You trailed a finger up the base of his cock and he whined. A whine is not a noise you’d attribute to Andrew Dodge Mason, yet here you were. You chuckled, wobbling up on your knees to position yourself over his cock. 

Your hands wrapped around his member as you lowered yourself down, and he watched you with bated breath. 

You shuddered as the head of his cock breached your hole. “Good girl, jus’ like that,” He mumbled, thumb rubbing over your hipbone. 

You practically purred at the praise as you continued to lower yourself onto him. He helped you, too. Strong hands pushing you down and it felt so fucking good. He had a bigger dick than anyone in this shit-town you had ever been with, and it was fucking clear he knew what he was doing with it. 

You were down to the hilt and you let out a short sigh. “Good job, pretty girl. You gonna make me feel good?” He asked, bringing his hand up to tilt your chin down. 

“Mm-hm,” You replied, leaning in and kissing him. 

You started to slowly grind your hips on him and he groaned into your mouth. You lifted your hips carefully and dropped them back down, pleasure wracking through your body as you did. 

“So good for me,” He mumbled against you, nipping your bottom lip. 

All you could manage was a soft keen as you continued to lift and drop your hips. Dodge started to move, too, thrusting his hips up to meet yours when you put yours back down. It created a perfect feeling of pleasure and you slumped over him, biting into his neck as you moved. 

It didn’t take long with this languid push and pull for you to feel close to release again, so you tapped him on the shoulder. That was all he needed, too. “Are you gonna cum?” He asked when you tapped him, nibbling your ear. 

“Nnh, yes,” You whined, fingernails leaving crescents in his back. 

“Okay, baby, okay. ‘M almost there,” He murmured, kissing your cheek before picking up the pace of his own thrusts. 

You let out something that was half-yelp and half-moan and you let him take control of fucking you. 

Your moans grew more frequent and almost panicked as you neared your second orgasm. Then, as he realized how close you were, he told you, “You can cum.” 

You hadn’t even noticed you were waiting for his permission until you were tightening up and letting your release wash over you. 

As soon as you came, he pulled out of you and with a few more strokes with his hand, his cum splattered onto your belly. 

You laughed and then kissed him again, slowly pushing him down and laying on his chest. “We should probably clean up before my mom gets home,” You told him as he placed a kiss into your hair. 

“Mm, probably.” He had no intention of moving. You knew that your mom wouldn’t be home for at least another two hours, so you saw no problem with it. You nipped at his collarbone and let the soft rise and fall of his chest lull you into something soothing. 

[huaiian]

Imagine Being Loved By Me (Sylus x Fem!Reader)

Summary:

“I’ll relent. Give my kitten a few hours to…play with her toy. To do as she pleases.”

In short, it’s the MC/Reader’s birthday and Sylus let’s her have her way with him.

Pairing: Sylus x Fem!Reader or MC

Rating: Explicit, 18+ ONLY

Words: 4.6 K

AO3 Link Here

Tags: Light Dom/Sub, Dom!MC or Dom!Reader, Sub!Sylus, Bondage, Cumming (kinda) Untouched, Overstimulation, Porn but there's a thread of a plot

Author's Note: Hope you all enjoy! I haven't really written anything like this in a LOOOONG time so if it's not great I apologize. This is basically just me going hmm, what if you tied him up and made him cry. And well uhh….idk this happened. If you aren't into Submissive Sylus then I'm sorry, you'll probably want to skip out on this one ╥﹏╥

You awoke to rays of sun gently fanning across your face. Your nose scrunched up and you stretched your hands above your head, groaning slightly as your joints began to pop. You felt arms wrap around your waist and you smiled slightly, eyes opening slightly, glancing to the side.

“Someone’s up bright and early,” Sylus sighs, arms bringing you closer to him. His head moves to the crook of your neck, taking a deep breath and giving you a gentle kiss on your pulse point. Your smile widens, cradling the back of his head and guiding him upwards. You share a small peck before pulling back, adoration clear in your gaze.

“Happy birthday, my love,” he whispers into the morning air. You kiss him again as he envelopes you in his embrace.

The day progresses as any other day would, aside from the fact that it’s your birthday and Sylus will stop at nothing to shower you with gifts and attention. Did you mention a beautiful Tiffany & Co. necklace you wanted? He got you the entire collection. You said you wanted a new purse right? He took it upon himself to get you every Birkin he could find in person. It was all too much for you, having a more reserved and shy personality usually, but it’s your birthday so why not live a little.

Sylus led you from place to place, joining you in all of your favorite hobbies before surprising you at the end of the night with your closest friends and coworkers at the local karaoke bar. Sylus had to use his pseudonym, Skye, just as he did when you had coincidentally met him in a similar circumstance. Only this time, instead of trying to distance yourself from him the entire night, you were doing your best not to drag him towards you and kiss him until you saw stars.

“Sweetie,” he whispered in your ear, a shiver running up your spine, “you still have one more gift that you’ll need to open.”

“Oh?” You questioned, your eyebrow raising ever so slightly. “And what might that gift be? Don’t tell me you bought me an entire island or something ridiculous.”

Sylus was silent for a beat, causing you to straighten and whirl around, eyes wide and mouth agape at the implication. He chuckles while shaking his head, eyes scrunching up at the corners. “No my dear, though it can be arranged. All you need to do is ask,”

“NO, no I’m definitely happy and definitely don’t need you to spend anything more than you already have,” you stammer, a light blush coloring your cheeks. His laughter dies down and he smirks, leaning forward so his mouth is up against your ear.

“No love, this gift won’t cost me a thing,” his breath fanning out across your ear. Almost as if he could hear your confusion, he clarifies for you.

“I’ll relent. Give my kitten a few hours to…play with her toy. To do as she pleases.”

You could feel warmth rush through you in that moment, understanding the implication of his words. You never believed in the phrase ‘butterflies in your stomach’ until now, feeling the strange sensation combined with your heart stuttering in your chest, you could tell that it was going to be a long night.

After Sylus’ slight teasing, you slowly begin to exit the karaoke bar, hugging friends and catching up with some old co-workers here and there before finally making a subtle departure. You didn’t want to ruin the party for everyone else, but you also had a present waiting at home that had been plaguing your mind for hours now. You snatched Sylus’ hand and started dragging him over to his motorcycle, the man squeezing your hand gently. 

“I see someone’s anticipation is slowly getting the best of her,” he teased. The motorcycle came into view, which only made you take larger strides.

“If I had known how much you’d enjoy this gift, I would’ve departed a long time ago-” his voice was cut off by you suddenly swinging him forward, leaning him against the bike before cupping his cheeks. His eyes widened before you brought his face forward, your lips colliding in an aggressive kiss, showcasing your pent up frustration. He hummed into the kiss before his hands came to rest on your hips. 

As the kiss deepened, his hands snake towards your ass, that is until you swatted them away. You broke the kiss to find an adorably confused expression on his face. You lean forward, slightly on your tiptoes to try to make eye contact.

“I’m sorry, I thought the birthday girl was going to call the shots. Isn’t that right?” You questioned him with a smug demeanor. His eyes darkened before nodding. You grabbed his chin and pulled him in for another kiss, where it was obvious that you were in complete control. He could feel the smile on your face before pulling back again.

“That’s my good boy.”

He groans, eyes closing again before you bring him back into a possessive kiss. You wanted to muffle any sounds he might make in case anyone had the audacity of hearing him in this state; a state only you were allowed to see. You broke apart from him again, his eyes opening again and looking towards you for further direction.

“Let’s get you home baby, I’ll take care of you,” you softly tell him, hand cupping his face and thumb gently wiping just before his eye. He nods mindlessly at you before whispering “yes ma’am.” He climbs atop of the motorcycle as you follow close behind. Before you realize it, Sylus is weaving in and out of traffic at speeds you knew were nowhere near safe. Could it be due to your hand squeezing his inner thigh, your chest pressed against his back ever so tightly. 

When you arrive at home, you notice that the twins and Mephisto aren’t there to welcome you home. You sigh slightly out of exasperation, taking Sylus’ hand once more before leading him inside the house. The darkness and silence is all encompassing, all that can be heard in yours and Sylus’ breaths desperately trying to calm yourselves of your racing heartbeats.

As you move through the house, you finally locate the bedroom door, noticing that candles had been lit, illuminating the room in a gentle glow. 

“I’ll have to give the boys their thanks later,” you state, giggling slightly to yourself at the turn of events.

Sylus frowns slightly before squeezing your hand harder to indicate his irritation at the mention of the twins. You laugh openly now, ushering Sylus to sit on the bed.

“It seems that someone’s a jealous little toy huh,” you speak, an authoritative tone engulfing your words in a new weight. Sylus scoffs, crossing his arms and turning his head to the side.

“As though you wouldn’t be upset with me if I starting bringing up other women in the bedroom,” 

“What other women Sylus,” you speak up, your hands grabbing his wrists and unfolding his arms. You widen your stance and take a seat on his lap, your index finger and thumb grasping his chin to force him to look you in the eye. He looks at you with a slight scowl on his face, but his widening pupils and growing bulge in his pants tells you that the expression is just for show.

“Enlighten me,” you tease, leaning forward so your lips ghost his ever so slightly, “what other women are you talking to?” The question falls upon deaf ears as your hand moves from his chin to his hair, curling around some strands before gripping tightly, tugging his head backwards. Sylus gasps sharply as you feel his cock twitch below you. You move your head swiftly to his neck, kissing up his neck before reaching his jawline just below his ear. You start sucking sharply, nipping at the skin to ensure that a mark appears in your wake. 

He moans low, his hands fisting the sheets below him. His head falls to the side, allowing you greater access to his neck. You let go of the sensitive skin, but you don’t move away. Your breaths dampening the skin below you before you ask again, “Answer me Sylus: What other women are you talking to?” 

“No one,” he states, sounding out of breath and ragged before groaning again as you bite his neck with pressure just enough to leave a mark. You release his neck before licking a stripe upwards, whispering in his ear, “that’s a good boy,” before softly biting his ear lobe.

Sylus’ hips buck upwards, searching for any kind of friction. You let out a ‘hmph’ before grinding down harshly, forcing a muttered ‘oh fuck’ out of his mouth. 

“Now that won’t do,” you state, slowly getting up from his lap. He opens his eyes slowly, half lidded. His eyes watch you as you move your way towards the dresser, his breath stuttering as he sees you grab rope you both are all too familiar with. He kicks off his shoes and climbs onto the bed, positioning himself on his knees with his hands behind his back. 

“How obedient,” you observe as he sits, awaiting for your instruction, “but we won’t be in this position today.” He quirks an eyebrow up at you, the ghost of a smirk on his lips. You smirk as well, knowing that the poor bastard had no idea what he had signed up for when offering his last present to you.

You kick off your heels and crawl in front of him on your knees. His chest starts rising and falling more noticeably and he tries to calm his breathing. You start undressing him, giving gentle instructions as needed. He obeyed without any resistance and as you were slowly peeling off his last layer, cock springing upwards and onto his stomach, you heard a quiet moan leave him. 

You remove the boxers and throw them to the side, attention stuck on the pretty pink length twitching slightly at your gaze. You lean forward, licking a fat stripe on the underside of his cock, reveling in the way his breath stutters and his thighs shake. You give a quick suck to the head before pulling back, raising your head upwards to make eye contact with the man.

“Sweetie please,” he whispers, hand reaching forward to grab your waist. You quickly took his wrist and put your other hand on the middle of his check slowly pushing him backwards on the bed, pinning his hands above his head, straddling his hips. You could feel his cock underneath you through your jeans, moving your hips in a subtle circular motion. You hear him whimpering faintly, and you squeeze his wrists before letting them go. His wrists stay above his head, his gaze pleading with you to let him feel you in his rough grasp.

You grab the forgotten rope at your side before cupping his cheek, bringing him into a tender kiss. Sylus attempted to deepen the kiss, but you smiled and pulled away. 

“Spread out baby,” you say to him, unraveling the rope. He rolls his eyes and spreads out, his hands and feet pointing towards their respective corners.

“You know, when I offered up this as a present, I wasn’t expecting…” he trails off, trying to find the right words, “all of this enthusiasm. I thought you enjoyed begging underneath me,  begging for my co-” 

He was cut off from his bratty tirade by a sharp slap to the inner thigh, causing his hips to buck and the words to die on his tongue.

“I didn’t think I needed to keep that pretty mouth of yours in check,” you say with a bored tone, sighing slightly. You finish up tying the last ankle to the corner of the bed, using a single column tie for his wrists and ankles. As you lean back to acknowledge your handiwork, you can see his arms and legs straining a little, testing out the ropes. Unfortunately for him, the ropes are secure and unless he’s willing to beg, there's no getting out of them now.

You straddle his midriff and he looks up at you with a slight scowl at you tying him down. You cup his cheeks with your hands and kiss him deeply, languidly. You’re able to take your time now and you’re going to savor every second of it. He kisses you back, matching your leisurely pace.

You part the kiss, a string of saliva connecting the two of you. “I have scissors in the left hand drawer,” you mutter, kissing the corner of his mouth. “The safe word is Featherstar. Do I make myself clear?” You look at him sternly, wanting him to take this seriously. He nods his head and attempts to lean forward to kiss you once more. You click your tongue at him, moving away. 

“I’m gonna need you to use your words my love,” you tell him in a hushed tone. He pouts at you but nods again, replying with a simple “Yes ma’am, I understand.”

“Thank you sweetie,” you whisper in his ear, causing him to shiver. You start kissing down his neck, leading the middle of his chest. You start sucking and biting different areas on his chest, knowing that the man would start unraveling at the seams. Sure enough, he was humming and groaning at the attention his chest was receiving.

You moved towards his nipple, dragging your tongue across the sensitive bud. You felt it perk up and start to harden as you swirled your tongue around it in small circles.

“Oh sweetie, fuck,” he sighs, his arms straining against the ropes. He lets out an annoyed huff followed by a low pitched groan and you start to suck on the raised bud. You continue sucking and your other hand caresses his side, trailing your fingers upwards until they reach his other nipple. You tweak the unoccupied nipple in between your fingers, pinching and rubbing it in small circles similar to your tongues movements before swapping the two. Your mouth comes and replaces your hand while your other hand comes up to caress his pec. 

Sylus moans and twitches underneath you, becoming more and more agitated by his inability to touch you. “Baby, when will you release me? This is getting a bit boring, don’t you think?” He tries his best to keep his voice from wavering with arousal. 

You look up at him and bite down on his nipple, causing the man to moan and tip his head back on the bed. You release his nipples and kiss your way to the center of his chest again. “Bargaining isn’t going to work my dear, I’m afraid you’re just going to have to get used to this.”

He tries to calm his breathing as you start caressing his body, your fingers applying feather light pressure to him, goosebumps rising on his skin. You venture lower until you’re sitting back, his cock straining against his stomach in a red color that looks somewhat irritated from the lack of attention. 

Your touch delicately brushes against his length, his cock jumping and twitching with every touch. “You’re killin’ me sweetie,” he says, sounding out of breath. You continue the movements, making no effort to apply anymore pressure or stimulation. He whimpers as his dick starts leaking a constant stream of precum, creating a shallow puddle on his stomach. 

“You can come just from this can’t you?” You ask, tilting your head to the side. He shakes his head slightly before flinching as your fingers gather some of the precum, teasing the tip. His thighs flex, trying to plant his feet onto the mattress but to no avail. You giggle at his reaction, playing with the slit before leaning forward, licking the shell of his ear.

“Don’t you want to make me proud? It is my birthday after all,” you purr into his ear, his breathing becoming erratic. You could tell he was close, all he needed was some pushing. You took your free hand and grasped his hair. 

“Don’t you want to be a good boy, make me proud?” You say, tugging his hair so his head would be pulled back. He made a choked off noise and shut his eyes suddenly, whimpering as he came, hot streaks of cum shooting up towards his chest. You could see the veins in his arms protruding from being restricted. You smiled, cooing in his ear praises of how well he was doing. 

Sylus took a few calming breaths before looking at you, his eyes glassy and gaze filled with longing. “Please baby, let me go,” he tries again. You shake your head before getting up, straddling him again. He quirks an eyebrow before you start to undress yourself, shimmying out of your jeans and pulling off your top, only left in a matching underwear set you treated yourself to for your big day. His eyes widened as he gazed upon the maroon lace seemingly painted across your breasts.

His distraction was evident as you started to crawl your way upwards, pussy hovering over his face. Even so, his eyes had not left the lingerie once. It seemed as though he was unaware as to what your next move would be, completely taken aback by your choice of attire to ask any questions. You gripped his hair again to tilt his head backwards so he made eye contact with you. 

“Try to keep up,” you stated, using your other hand to push your panties aside. His mouth drops open, saliva beginning to pool in his mouth. Before he can retort, your thighs spread further apart, sitting yourself on his mouth, nose nudging your clit. You moan out as he tongue begins to work you open, lapping up the wetness with a new refound vigor. You started rutting against his mouth, grinding downward so his nose would grind against your clit at an addicting pace.

“Your tongue-” you groan, removing your hands so you could place them behind you, leaning back against his thighs, “God you’re good at this.” You gripped his upper thighs, feeling the firm muscle underneath your hands quivering. You lifted your hips up and away from his mouth for a moment to let him catch his breath. The smug satisfaction pools in the pit of your stomach as you see his chin glisten, mouth open while he takes a brief reprieve. 

“You better get your ass back over here sweetie-” he starts, impatience in his voice. You roll your eyes at him once more pushing yourself back into his mouth. “I’m gonna need to punish you for speaking out of turn like that, ya know,” you tell him, grinding down harder and harder as he works you open. You gasp as he starts fucking you open with his tongue, moaning at your taste. 

You glance behind you and find not only is he fully erect again, but it seems he’s just as close to release as you. And well, we can’t have that can we?

You could feel yourself getting close, and as rode him harder and faster, you reached for his cock behind you, squeezing just under his head. Sylus whimpers loudly in response, but continues to bring you closer and closer to the edge.

With one last nudge of his nose against your clit, your eyes rolled in the back of your head, body going stiff and you came on his tongue. You could feel him pant against your thigh as he tried to calm himself, hips thrusting upward to try and reach his release as well.

“Love please let me come, please, you tasted so good I wanna come too, please,” he begs, mumbling against the inside of your thigh. You pull back from his mouth as he whimpers in protest. You raise up, letting go of his cock as it falls against his stomach heavily. You take off your bra and panties, looking at him with a devious glint in your eye. 

You grab him by the chin so his mouth would open slightly. “Open up,” you ordered and he reluctantly obeyed. You realized he was going to try to come up with a witty retort, but you knew how to satiate him for the time being. You took your panties coated in your wetness and shoved them in his mouth, gagging him. His eyes rolled in the back of his head and moaned loudly. 

“Don’t worry Sylus, I just wanted to save your stamina,” you tell him, moving backwards so your cunt was hovering over his cock. He shivered and moaned at the feeling of you grinding down on his dick, heavy with want and radiating with heat. You moved your cunt against him, slicking up his dick. You finally lifted up and grabbed the base of his shaft, circling the head around your entrance. He started breathing heavily through his nose, the pressure from his yanking causing the ropes around him making the bed frame creak. 

“Such a patient boy, you’ve been waiting so nicely,” you gasp out as you slowly start to sink down on him. He moans loudly, voice muffled by the panties. You take him inch by inch before sitting fully on him, feeling filled to the brim. All that can be heard are the desperate breaths between the two of you. You place your hands on his abs before raising yourself up, tip almost slipping out. As your hips come down forcefully, you hear a punched out moan escape Sylus, little noises escaping him the more you move, however slight.

You start riding him with new vigor, bouncing up and down on his cock, trying to get him to reach deeper and deeper inside you. His moans are becoming louder and louder, with whimpers escaping him whenever you take a moment to sit and swivel your hips in circular motions. The sounds Sylus begins to make sound more and more frantic, wobbly from desperation.

“It’s ok, cum for me Sylus. Fill me up, I wanna be filled with your cum,” your tone sounding strained and you uncontrollably start moving on his cock, desperate for him. It only takes a few more times bouncing on his cock before you hear a muffled shout, feeling warmth spread through you. You moan out, a high pitched squeal leaving your lips as you cum around his cock, milking him inside of you.

You look over and see his head lolled to the side, saliva dripping out of the side of his mouth around your panties. You lean forward and gently move his face so he looks at you. You cup his cheek and praise him as you gingerly remove the panties from his mouth. He breathes through his mouth deeply, coughing slightly. 

You had planned to be done from here, thinking that you've had enough fun, but you can’t help but think of how far you’ll be able to push the infamous leader of Onychinus. A devious part in you wants to break him, while another part of you wants to give him mercy. 

You decide to be selfish, still craving more and more from him. You squeeze around his cock and he groans out, mumbling a soft “baby, please”. Before long, you start moving in circles again, and Sylus is below you, pleading with tears in his eyes.

“Oh God, oh fuck, I don’t- I don’t know if I- SHIT!” He yells out, tears escaping from the corner of his eyes, head hitting the bed behind him hard as he tries grasping for something, anything to keep him grounded.

“Miss please, please, I can’t I- I need to touch you please please,” he begs, voice coming out shaky as you start lifting yourself up and down on his cock again. You were getting tired and felt as though his punishment had gone on long enough.

“Just your legs-” before you could continue, Sylus’ evol appears out of thin air, slicing the ropes that are connecting his ankles to the corners of the bed. You startle, stopping for a second before yelping, bracing your hands on his chest as he plants his feet into the bed, roughly thrusting up into you. You moan out harshly, sounds punching out of you with every thrust of his hips. 

“You feel so good around me sweetie, so hot…so soft…kiss me,” he babbles. You prop yourself up and surge forward, meeting him in the middle. Your teeth clash and you can feel desperation in the kiss as you both try to ground yourselves with the other. 

“Sylus please…please I need more, I need you to mark me, claim me, I’m all yours,” you whimper. His arms flex and his biceps bulge at the urge to grab you, feel your plush skin against his roughened palms. He whimpers at the realization of the restraints, giving you a pleading look that could send you to your knees.

“Touch me Sylus,” you order. Within an instant, his voice evol slashes the ropes and he’s grabbing you, taking you by the hips and physically lifting you up and down his cock. You scream out in pleasure as you can feel your release approaching swiftly. You can tell by his sloppy movements and frenzied expression that he’s close as well. 

You begin to chant his name over and over, having the words be punched out of you by his thrusts. You feel him hitting you deeper and deeper, fucking his cum back into you over and over again. You grasp the back of his neck and pull him to you, kissing him sloppily. 

As he returns the kiss to you, you break away slightly with a silent scream, hurdling over the edge and feeling nothing but a white static. Your body feels euphoric and, at the sight of your pleasure, Sylus gasps and thrusts up into you with one sharp movement, cumming hard to the point where it bordered on painful. After coming down from your highs, You languidly grab one of the random pieces of clothing you had discarded before to wipe off his chest. 

Before you could get up to get some more cleaning supplies, Sylus holds you captive in his arms as he slowly leans back onto the bed, cradling your head and bringing you to his chest. As your breaths slow and the drowsiness starts to appear, you look up at Sylus.

“Thank you Sylus,” You whisper to him, kissing the center of his chest. He clutches you harder, kissing the top of your head. “I had no idea my love could be so…domineering,” he chuckled as you blushed, hiding your face into his chest. He laughed once more before kissing your head again. 

“I don’t mind it though. We can play around a bit more in the future but,” he stops, contemplating for a moment. You look up at him with hope and mischief in your eyes. He sighs and holds you tighter, mumbling “maybe for special occasions only though. Don’t want my kitten to get too greedy with her toys now.” 

You laugh and hug him closer to you, craving the intimacy of just being close to him. He tugs you upwards and burrows his head into the crook of your neck, taking a deep breath in before he confides, “I don’t think I’ll ever be able to let you go.”

You giggle a little at his words and kiss his shoulder, “I don’t think I mind that. Not at all.”

_____

Author's Note: HOPE YOU ENJOYED!! If you'd like to see any other stories or continuations of this let me know, I'd be happy to write some more.

[snowyquokka]

Just (fucking) friends

fwb!chan x fem!reader

cw: HEAVY smut MDNI, dom!chan/sub!reader, hair pulling, choking (kinda), breeding kink, swearing, mirror sex, unprotected piv *dont be silly, wrap ur willy*, aftercare, uses of baby girl/angel/needy girl, shitty grammar (this isn’t an english essay)

uhh i think thats it

wc: 0.9k

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

“Just friends, huh?” Chan murmurs as he wraps his hand in your hair before forcing your head back. You both had gone to a party where a guy was hitting on you. He saw you come in with Chan so he asked if you were dating. You said no, and that you guys were only friends. Chan decided that that was the last straw; he wanted you to call him yours. He just needed to fuck you good enough.

“All your friends fuck you like I do?” you shake your head as he begins sucking and biting your neck. “Use your words pretty girl.” “N-no. Nobody fucks me like you- shit.” You hiss when he bites a little harder than before. You feel his tongue run over the soon to be bruise in order to soothe some of the pain.

“Please,” you whine as Chan pulls back.

“Please what, y/n? You want me to touch you, hm?” he trails his fingers lightly down your stomach until he reaches your heat. “I’m waiting, baby girl. Tell me what you want.” Chan stops his hand right at the waistband of your leggings.

“Fuck, please Chan. I want you,” you plead. He grins cockily before leaning in to kiss you messily.

“Take your clothes off, I want to see your pretty body.” Hastily, you strip completely. He turns you around so you’re facing the mirror and rakes his eyes over every inch of you. No matter how many times he’s seen you, you always seem to mesmerize him.

One of Chan’s hands slides in between your legs while the other holds your hip steadily. “Color?” he whispers in your ear.

“Green,” you nod. With zero hesitation he spreads your lips and thrusts one finger into your cunt.

“Fuck baby, how are you always so tight?” Chan groans softly. You press your back into his chest and roll your hips slowly.

As you grind on his fingers you make sure that your ass rubs against Chan’s bulge earning a grunt from him.

“Ah ah ah, not yet my needy girl.” He stills your hips and adds another finger into your already soaked pussy.

After a third finger is added he can feel you clench around him. “You gonna come baby girl, hm? You’re lucky I’m feeling generous. Go ahead and come, I got you.” His words go straight to your core and you come on his fingers.

He makes eye-contact with you through the mirror and commands you to open your mouth. You obey, allowing Chan to stick his fingers in your mouth. “You taste so fucking sweet, don’t you angel?”

He pulls his shirt over his head and grabs a condom out of his pocket before sliding his pants and boxers down.

“Wait.” You turn to look at him and glance down at the foil in his hand. “No condom. I-“ you cut yourself off as embarrassment flows through you.

“You what, baby. C’mon. Say it,” he throws the condom on the counter.

“I want to feel you. Just you.” You’ve never done it raw with Chan in the 2 months you’ve been fucking. He sure as hell wanted to, but didn’t want to make you uncomfortable by asking. Hearing you request the exact thing he’s fantasized about makes his cock twitch.

“You sure?” you nod in response. “Alright angel, if that’s what you want. But I have a few rules.”

“Anything just please fuck me, Chan.”

“You’re gonna keep your eyes on yourself the entire time. No looking at me, I want you to see how pretty you look while I fuck you dumb. Can you do that for me?” he lines his tip up with your entrance.

With your confirmation he pushes into you harshly, giving you no time to adjust to his size. “Holy shit baby, you feel so good around my dick.” You gasp and instinctively close your eyes but quickly open them back up when Chan wraps his hand around your throat. He doesn’t apply any pressure but does it to warn you.

“Eyes open, baby. You look so fucking gorgeous right now.” He latches his mouth on the sweet spot on your neck as the sound of skin on skin echos throughout the room.

“Gonna mark you all over, baby. Wanna show people who the one filling your pretty little cunt up is.”

“Yes, please Channie. Show them I’m yours.” A low groan escapes from his chest and his thrusts grow sloppier. “Fuck- I’m gonna come.” you moan.

“You want me to fill you up baby girl? You want me to fuck my cum into you?” Chan grabs both of your hips and thrusts into you hard which unravels the knot in the pit of your stomach.

A few moments later Chan’s stuffing you with his seed, not letting any escape.

He leans his forehead against your shoulder blade while you both come down from your highs. He slowly pulls out and kisses your shoulder before moving to clean you up. He carries you into your room and places you gently on the bed so he can find you clothes.

You’re both settled into your bed, legs tangled with one another’s. Chan breaks the silence, “I don’t want to be ‘just your friend’ anymore.” You turn your head to look at him.

“I don’t want you to be just my friend.” You smile and plant a soft yet passionate kiss on his swollen lips.

“God, I love you so fucking much.”

“I love you too.”

[fanficsformyfaves]

Now, You're Mine

Rhea Ripley x Fem!Reader

WARNING: SMUT 18+, ANGST, Possessive!Rhea, Breeding Kink, Hickeys (R Receiving), Choking (R Receiving), Cum-Filled Strap On (R Receiving), Bulge Kink, Mommy Kink

PREFACE: Rhea and Reader were hooking up on and off, but Rhea wanted her all to herself

A/N: Rhea's P.O.V. in Bold and Colored!

Flashback in Italics!

Texts in Bold and Colored!

Some surprise appearances by other WWE Stars!

THIS HAD ME GRIPPING THE SHEETS FOR REAL

Kinda toxic, but eh

RHEA'S P.O.V.

She was all I've ever wanted. From how beautiful she was, to her kind-hearted nature and quick wits, she was nothing short of perfection. I remember the day we met vividly.

I had just gotten done with my match and was grabbing a bite to eat with my friends.

"I'll take-"

"The chicken tenders", I say in unison with Fin and Priest.

The three of us laugh, as Dom shook his head.

"Typical", Priest mocked,

"Hey, I know what I like, alright?", Dom argued.

Snapping the menu closed and handing it back to the waiter.

"I'll be back", I say,

Dismissing myself and heading to the bathroom, but as I did, somebody walks out.

Time came to a sudden halt, as I took in just how beautiful she was. It was as if everyone else disappeared and we were the only people there.

She gives me a shy smile, before walking past me and heading back to her table. My eyes never leaving her, as she took her seat.

YOUR P.O.V.

I immediately walk back to my friends, trying hard to hide my flushed cheeks.

"You good?", Nikki questioned,

"Yeah", I hesitantly answered,

As my gaze fell upon her once more. I couldn't help it, even if I tried. Besides how breathtaking she was, there was just something about her that intrigued me. Maybe it was the jet black hair or the tattoos that masked her hands, either way, I couldn't take my eyes off of her.

"What's got you all shy?", Brie questioned,

Taking me out of my head.

"What?"

She turns to try and see what I was looking at and immediately caught on.

"Oh, she's so your type"

"Dear God, please shut up", I pleaded,

"Who?"

It was now Naomi's turn to look and she also began teasing me.

"Oooh", she taunted,

Nudging me.

"Guys, come on. Let's not embarrass her", Nat ceased.

During the time of my friends poking fun at me, she looks over and sends another smile my way. If my heart wasn't racing out of my chest already, it surely was now.

Once we were done with our food and paid the bill, her table was also finishing up their dinner.

"Now's your chance, don't be shy", Nikki egged on,

"Nikki!", I warned in a whisper,

"Oh come on, what's the worst that can happen?"

"Um, she could hear me?"

"You're really gonna let her go?", she emphasized,

Pointing, when I smack her hand away.

"Keep your hand down!"

"Sorry", she whispered,

"I think you should go for it", Nat chimed in,

"Oh, not you too"

"(Y/N), you've got nothing to lose. She says no and then what?"

"And then I die of embarrassment"

Causing her eyes to roll.

"Look, nothing's gonna happen, if I don't talk to her"

"Exactly. Nothing's gonna happen if you don't talk to her, which I personally think is worse", she retorted.

I take a deep breath, slouching back against the booth chair, when I notice her table begin to gather their things.

"It's now or never, champ", Brie added on.

Was I terrified? Absolutely...but after battling with the anxious chill in the pit of my stomach, I ultimately got up and carefully made my way towards her.

Every step feeling like boulders strung at my feet.

Once I was less than a foot away, I clear my throat in an attempt to catch her attention. She turns around and somehow, she was even more breathtaking up close.

Her eyes reflecting baby blue skies in them, as her lips curled up into a grin.

"Hi", I greeted,

"Hello", she smiles down at me,

"I hope I'm not being too forward, but, I think you're...really beautiful", I struggled,

I knew my face had turned a bright red by the way she eyes my cheeks.

"Do you, now?", she challenged,

"Yeah", I chuckled nervously,

"Well", she began,

Taking my hand inro hers.

"I said the same thing to my mates earlier. You're quite the sight"

My heart was on the verge of giving out.

"What are you doing after this?"

"Um", I say,

Glancing back at my friends, who immediately turned away.

"It seems we have an audience"

"Don't mind them, they're just nosy", I reassured,

Making her laugh to herself.

"I'm not doing anything"

"Perfect", she said,

Gently leading me outside.

We head back to the hotel she was staying at and after letting my friends know where we went, she started up a movie for us.

Let's just say the movie had simply become background noise.

Since then, we'd been hooking up on and off, but in all honesty, I wanted more. Don't get me wrong, what we had was beyond my wildest imaginations, but I often caught myself daydreaming about being more than just 'friends'.

It didn't help, the fact that she fueled these delusions. Intentionally or not.

In those moments, post-sex, there would be a glimmer of softness that made me melt from the inside out. A contrasting difference from how she would usually treat me in bed.

Little gestures she'd do, like playing with my hair till I fell asleep or tracing mindless shapes onto my back. It all just added to the already burdensome weight in my chest.

The longer this went on, the harder it became to keep my feelings at bay. The harder it got to avoid the questions that plagued my mind.

Would she want that too? What if she didn't? Would she get upset and cut me off entirely? I could have all the time in the world and none of it would be enough to find a single answer.

I was planning to just keep my mouth shut and take this secret to my grave...until I heard about Liv. She was Rhea's tag team partner and at first, I didn't think anything of it, till I saw their backstage interview, where she kissed Rhea's cheek.

Alarms immediately went off in my head.

I knew she'd been sleeping up with other people, but to actually see her flirt with someone else was the wakeup call I needed.

I decided to keep my distance for a while and eventually, she caught on. For the last few weeks, I'd been responding less to her texts and have ignored her late night calls all together.

As much as I hated to admit it, I missed her, but I knew I had to hold my ground.

(SUNDAY)

Rhea: Hey

Seen at 5:06 pm

Rhea: I haven't seen you in a while, how's things been?

Seen at 5:25 pm

(MONDAY)

Me: Good, you?

Seen at 9:03 pm

Rhea: Pretty busy lately, aren't you?

Seen at 10:00 pm

But what I think finally made things click for Rhea was when I run into her at Dom's birthday party.

As it was being thrown at her house, I knew to come prepared, so I put on the dress I knew she liked and paired it with the perfect heels. Between my hair, makeup and outfit, I was undoubtedly sure to make some heads turn.

Not even a minute goes by, before Rhea spots me and makes a beeline toward where I stood.

"Ladies", she greets,

As they all nod, before heading inside. She eyes me up and down, before taking a few steps closer.

"(Y/N)", she grins.

I cross my arms over my chest, avoiding her daunting stare.

"Beautiful, as always"

"Thanks"

She goes in for a hug, when I simply brush past her, leaving Rhea undoubtedly confused. For the rest of the night, I stood by, watching my friends get wasted and have the time of their lives.

I, however, was too distracted by Rhea watching me from across the room. The slicked-back hair, the leather top that perfectly showcased her strong arms. I was intoxicated solely by staring at her.

Somewhere in the night, my friends had completely disappeared and I was left on the couch alone.

That was until Sonya took the vacant spot next to me.

"I don't like parties either", she spoke,

Finally ripping my gaze away from Rhea.

"Hey, Sonya"

"You know my name?", her eyebrows meet,

"Yeah, I saw your match with Nikki and John. They invited me to watch"

"Oh, cool, your Nikki's friend. I'm assuming you came with her and Brie?"

"Yup, but...", I say,

Quickly scanning the room.

"I have no idea where they went"

"Well, Brie's probably throwing up the drinks she chugged and Nikki's probably hooking up with Cena upstairs"

"Probably", I chuckled,

Sipping my cocktail.

"But, hey, at least you got me", she joked,

Playfully nudging me.

"At least", I agreed.

"I hope this isn't me coming on too strong, but would you like to dance?"

"Um..."

I go to look back at Rhea and it was almost as if she was trying to communicate with her eyes.

It was now my turn to have fun.

"I'd love to", I turn back to Sonya,

Grabbing her hand and leading her to the dancefloor.

RHEA'S P.O.V.

What the hell was Deville up to and why was (Y/N) reciprocating it? I knew she'd gone almost radio silent lately, but I didn't think it was this serious.

My blood boiled at the sight of Sonya twirling her around, as her eyes raked up and down (Y/N)'s body. Shamelessly staring at what was mine. I knew I had only myself to blame, but I couldn't help but seethe with anger. It should be me grabbing her hips that way. It should be me making her laugh like that.

Had I messed up by not owning up to how I really felt? Yes, but I wasn't going to lose her over that. She was everything I could ever want and I'd be a fool to just let her go.

Having had enough, I shove my drink into Priest's chest and made my way over to them.

"(Y/N). Deville", I address,

Interrupting their laughter.

"Hey, Ripley", Sonya replied,

As I respond with a sarcastic grin.

"I need to talk to you", I address (Y/N),

"I'm kind of in the middle of something-"

"(Y/N)", I cut off,

Causing her to be taken aback.

YOUR P.O.V.

I couldn't lie, the stern tone in her voice made my core ache and my knees go weak. I had no choice but to comply.

I follow her through the crowd and up the stairs, till we reach her bedroom at the end of the hall.

As we step inside, she closes the door behind her and leans against it.

"What do you want?", I questioned,

"Don't play dumb with me"

"I'm not", I egged on.

She scoffs, leaning off the door and taking a step towards me.

"Are we really going to do this?"

"I don't know...are we?"

I knew me challenging her was a risk, but it was one I was willing to take. I needed to know once and for all if this was something worth fighting for.

With a mischievous grin, she leans down to whisper in my ear.

"Do you really think Sonya, of all people, can treat you better than I can? Hm? Make you feel as good as I do?"

Her hands creep up to the small of my waist and pulled me in closer. I could feel my knees threatening to give out and was fighting so hard to stop it.

"Or was this all just to get my attention?"

She kisses up my neck and chewed on the lobe of my ear.

"You want me? You've got me"

Like I'd weighed nothing, she picks me up by thighs, causing a surprised gasp to escape me.

"All you had to do was say so"

She then carries me to bed and crawled atop me, kissing and licking up my legs.

"This dress. Fuck", she murmured against my thighs,

Before spreading them apart.

"Well"

Eyeing the wet spot on my underwear.

"I've barely started and you're already making a mess", she teased,

"Rhea", I whined,

"Yes, darling?"

"Please"

"Please what? You know I like to hear you say it"

I take in a deep breath, before finally locking eyes with her.

"Fuck me"

She smirks once more, before pulling away and walking over to her closet. I carefully observe her every move and once she was done digging through her clothes, she turns around, causing my stomach drops.

She's used straps on me before, but this one was...different.

"I've been saving this for something special, but of course you had to be a brat tonight", she says,

Stopping right before the bed.

"Take my clothes off", she ordered.

I crawl over to her, helping her out of her blazer, before unbuttoning her blouse and pulling her pants down.

Unbeknownst to me, she was already completely naked beneath her clothes. The sight of her exquisite body never failing to drive me crazy.

"My turn"

She pulls my dress off over my head, leaving me in just my stockings.

"No underwear? God, you are a slut"

And without wasting another breath, she pulls me in by my waist, whilst wrapping her lips around my hardened buds.

Desperate moans and whines escaping me as she did so.

"You're so much nicer when Mami's got a hold of you, hm?"

She then pushes me onto my back, before spreading my legs and ripping my fishnets down the middle. She must've sensed my concern, by the way her eyes flickered up to me.

"I'll get you new ones", she reassured,

Before pulling back and securing the toy around her hips.

I was practically drooling from how good she looked. From her inked hand rubbing up and down the dildo, to her insatiable eyes eating me alive, I could've cum right then and there.

"I need you, Mami, please", I pleaded,

Tugging her lips up into a smirk.

"I know you do. Why else would you try so hard to get my attention?", she teased,

Licking the shell of my ear and sending a chill up my spine.

In a flash, she throws my legs around her waist, dragging me in closer, whilst rubbing the tip of the strap against my entrance.

"Let's see if you can keep up"

She thrusts into me in one swift motion, filling me up to the brim and causing a cry to escape past my lips.

Her pace was immediate and rough, like the hand she snaked up my body, before settling around my throat. It felt like I was being split apart in the best way possible. The mixture of the pleasure and pain already causing tears to blur my vision.

"You're fucking mine", she grunted against my shoulder,

"Yes, Mami!", I cried out,

Grabbing her wrist.

With each merciless thrust, my orgasm was nearing faster and faster and I knew it was only a matter of time, till I came undone in her grasp.

"Fuck!", I whined under my moans,

"You're doing so good for me", she licked up my throat,

Reaching down to rub vigorous circles on my clit and yanking a final scream out of me.

"Do it. Cum for Mami", she demanded.

The stars in my eyes were all I saw, before being pushed over the edge.

Just when I thought it couldn't get any better, I feel her hand pull back to squeeze the base of the toy, causing it to spurt out ropes of warm sticky liquid all over my clenching walls.

I let out a surprised gasp, as Rhea chuckled against my neck. She looks back up and smashed her now-smudged lips against my own.

"Now, everyone here knows who you belong to", she teased.

My stomach dropped at the realization.

[becgenius]

BIKER!SYLUS WHO...

!! street racing au, reader not mc, female reader, established relationship, petnames, reader has hair, smut, semi-public sex not rlly, size kink, m!receiving oral, dacryphilia, helmet stays on during sex, hair pulling kinda, cum swallowing, masturbation, lightly proofread, lowercase intended

wc. 1.5k

nsfw under the cut. minors dni.

biker!sylus who invites you to every one of his street races.

he says it's because you're good luck. it's really because the one thing he loves more than winning these races is seeing you proudly run up to congratulate him after doing so.

you both know he doesn't need 'good luck' to win; winning has always been a guarantee for him.

biker!sylus who gets you your own set of bike gear when you start dating.

your own pair of gloves, your own jackets, boots, helmets, body armor, balaclavas - you name it.

not to mention that he buys you multiple of each. a set in your favorite color, one in the color he loves seeing you wear, and one that matches his own gear.

biker!sylus who, nonetheless, thinks you look the best when wearing his gear.

biker!sylus who therefore loves to give you his leather jacket to watch his races. he wants everyone to know that you're his; that you’re there for him, and him only.

the cold air of the night nips at your cheeks as you stand watching the race. you're pretty sure there are five racers in total on the track, but everyone's focused on the two bikes practically leading the race.

you know that sylus is one of them. however you aren't sure if he's on the first or second bike. definitely the first, who were you kidding.

the fluorescence of the colorful traffic lights and blaring headlights contrasts sharply with the night's darkness and overwhelms your vision, and there’s the bass-boosted music from a nearby sports car clashing with the conversations of strangers and screech of tires against asphalt.

it seems that tonight's commentator - some guy with a megaphone - is also having a difficult time distinguishing the two leading racers. the sound is all distorted and you can only catch phrases at a time. you hear him refer to the racers as bike a and bike b. not helpful at all.

mentally scolding your past self for underdressing, you hug sylus's gifted jacket closer to your body and press your legs together as you stand among the crowd: your best attempt at preserving body heat. you're beginning to get annoyed with the loud audience around you and the way the wind is blowing strands of your hair into your glossed lips.

eventually, thankfully, one of the bikes ahead wins. you still haven't identified the driver; nevertheless, you approach the finish line… and so does what seems like every other person around you.

he sees you before you see him. you're about to call him but he catches your attention by a simple flash of his bike's headlights.

you see him leaning against his bike, stuffing a wad of cash into his jacket's inside pocket.

"there you are, dear. did you enjoy the race?" he removes his helmet, in turn revealing the sweaty, sticky mess of hair underneath, and holds his free hand out to you.

"sy! i almost lost you!" despite your outcry, you still manage to take his hand and allow him to help you onto the back of his bike.

"don't i always tell you to look for me wherever the winner is?" humble as always. but you can't blame him.

he slips the helmet he had just worn over your head and adjusts the chin strap. from your neck up, you're enveloped in the heat that was previously trapped inside the headgear. finally, he flips the visor down, and your vision tints black as your breath fogs up a spot on the glass.

biker!sylus who thinks it’s the cutest thing, seeing you perched atop his huge bike, wearing not only his helmet but also his jacket, both much too large on you.

biker!sylus who is more than happy to humor you when you tell him that you have a reward for him after winning a particularly close race.

biker!sylus who, after parking and turning his bike off in his private garage, stays put, because you told him to. he’s suspicious, curious, but never doubtful.

with the amount of vehicles parked within, it may as well be considered parking lot. fortunately, all you see are sylus’s insane collection of cars and bikes. no people in sight.

he's, again, leaned up against his bike, holding you upright as you press your chest against his and kiss him.

the kissing is deep and passionate and he loves it because he loves the feeling of your lips on his. but the kiss is also too short.

he is confused when you abruptly pull away from him wearing a sly grin. he's even more confused when you take the helmet from his bike seat and place it over his head, concealing his face.

"what's all this now, hm sweetie?" he asks.

biker!sylus whose eyes widen in both shock and understanding when you slowly lower yourself before him; not that you can see it though, from your tinted reflection in his helmet.

" 'm giving you your reward, of course."

biker!sylus who helps you undo his belt and shove his pants down enough to where you can comfortably hold his exposed erection in your hands.

he's dense and girthy, and it takes two of your hands to fully grasp him.

you look up, innocently smiling, to his concealed face as you kneel below him, soft cheek pressed against his hard dick before you slide his tip into your now open mouth.

he groans from above. loud. the helmet does nothing to muffle his noises, you learn.

"i love seeing this side of you, baby…" you feel his fingers run across the sides of your head, pulling hair out of your face and into a makeshift ponytail.

there's something that turns him on so much about seeing your seemingly innocent eyes gaze up at him while doing such a crude act as sucking his dick. he becomes impossibly harder inside your mouth.

you give him an agreeing hm in response, lips still surrounding his cock, and the vibrations send shivers down his spine.

tears run down your sore cheeks when you begin to pick up your pace. your jaw hurts from forcing it open so long and hollowing your cheeks for this amount of time has made them sensitive.

your head bobs itself efficiently up and down his length. you’re mindful of your teeth, and you use your tongue to swirl around his girth.

the only noises heard in sylus' garage were his moans, your gagging, as well as the squelching and slurping of you sucking him dry.

you don't notice that he releases your hair to wipe your fallen tears, and you gladly accept the attention. "such a good girl. you look so pretty sucking my cock like this."

his sweet, albeit vulgar, words were getting to you, and you feel yourself becoming more and more aroused.

so while your dominant hand is wrapped around sylus' dick, jerking off the length around his base that your mouth couldn't reach, your free hand slips down under your waistband and between your thighs to relieve your aching clit.

you continue sucking him off at that same pace, until he suddenly gets impatient. his hands find their way back to your head and guides it back and forth at a much faster pace.

at this point, you relax, fully allowing sylus to take control. your only focus is to keep your lips wrapped around his cock and to not choke; that, and your hand in your pants.

"fuck, princess, i'm gonna cum." he spits out in between pants. he flips his visor up to breathe in the fresh air and you notice that the screen's been completely fogged. "i want you to come too. think you do that for me?"

his head falls back after he sees your nod and a loud moan escapes from the back of his throat. your fingers move faster and press harder on your clit as you let sylus direct your head at whichever speed he pleases.

his cock twitches in your mouth, a telltale sign, before his hand on the back of your head stops moving and your mouth is suddenly filled with sylus's cum instead of his dick, which he pulls out with a pop.

you reach your own climax in seconds, eyes rolling and mouth hanging open as your fingers speed up and your cunt spasms around nothing.

sylus's cum is close to spilling out from the corners of your mouth as you fully take in your orgasm, but he stops it from doing so when he presses a gentle finger under your chin, sealing your lips and commanding an authoritative "swallow" that makes you do so without thinking twice.

he fully removes the helmet to catch his breath, chest dramatically heaving. you finally make eye contact with his dilated pupils.

he smirks at your dazed state, finding the whole situation amusing.

"who knew you had it in you?" he chuckles, shaking his head, "you're a naughtier girl than you look."

biker!sylus who wins street races, but only considers himself a winner as long as he has you to show him that he is!!!!!!

[the-original-skipps]

|| When you move in together. || Wind Breaker ||

sooo uh funny story I actually posted this but it kinda disappeared i really tried finding it so i decided to post it again lol @kajibunny this is for you my love!! you’re the absolute sweetest <333

: Sakura Haruka. Suo Hayato. Kaji Ren. Umemiya Hajime.

❥ Sakura teared up when you asked him if he wanted to move in together. For the first time in his lonely life he will get to share a home with someone and that someone is none other than his most precious person in the entire world, you. Days leading up to the move, he had certain doubts plaguing his mind that maybe you'd come to regret this decision but you quickly eased his worries with your soothing words and gentle touch. Sakura doesn’t own a lot of belongings himself but the things he treasures are the things given to him by you. So, there wasn’t much to pack for him so instead he spent his time helping you pack your belongings. Stars literally shone in his eyes when he entered his new home, you giggled seeing him run around, inspecting every corner - like a child seeing his first snow. He was excited to unpack everything, asking you where things should go. When you called him out on his enthusiasm, he flushed red, stammering as he tried to deny. You don’t have to do any of the heavy lifting because Sakura insists on doing them all. Once you both settle in, in a rare moment he boldly pulls you into a tight embrace - his eyes glowing with warmth. “Thank you for giving me a place to call home...”

“Look! It’s our very own kitchen! Woah, this bathtub is huge! Is it really okay to call this mine…?”

❥ Suo did not express his happiness by jumping around or shouting at the top of his lungs. However, if he were to describe his reaction to your acceptance, that is what he felt inside when you agreed to move in with him. He'd nod along smiling as you rant on about the many things you'd like to do in the new house. A thought did cross his mind into hiring movers to do all the work (he’s a rich boy), but he figured it would be more personal and meaningful if you both did it. Suo has everything packed neatly and labeled, so you’d both have an easier time settling in. He’d always ask you if this is where you’d like this thing to be put here or not, valuing your opinion above his own. Suo does not mind if the curtains are of a certain color or if a certain furniture has a high price range. He’ll happily provide you with a card to spend to your heart’s delight. He’s just content to see a smile on your beautiful face. It really did not take long for you both to settle in, with strength remaining. Suo had everything planned out from the very beginning after all. Afterwards, Suo hugs you from behind as you both silently bask in the atmosphere of your new home.

“The sofa looks wonderful, my love. Though it would look better with you laying on it.”

❥ Kaji cracked his lollipop in one bite alone, when you asked him if he wanted to move in with you. It took him a moment to cool down his red face and racing mind, to properly give you an answer. When he said yes, you jumped onto him in excitement causing him to hurriedly catch you in his arms with a surprised yell. He wouldn’t voice it aloud but he was just as excited as you are. As he was packing each of his belongings into a box, his mind couldn’t help daydream of the life you’d share together. To wake up every morning to your beautiful face when the sun rises and to kiss you goodnight every night when the stars glimmer. You would no longer have to be separated from one another. He only snapped out of his daydream when the sound of a shutter came from your phone.

“You look adorable smiling to yourself. What were you thinking about?”

“Huh?! I wasn’t s-smiling! Delete that!!”

Instead of his usual headphones, Kaji opted to play music on a speaker, both his and your favorite songs while you both unpacked. You giddy moving around your new home, moving along to the music. Once your favorite song came on you couldn’t help but pull a reluctant Kaji along to dance. After a long day of unpacking, you both lay tired in the middle of your living room side by side - his hand tightly holding yours.

“Where do you want this to go? H-Hey, are you listening to me..?!”

❥ Umemiya is a picture of a man who received the greatest news of his life when you accepted his offer to move in. You had to keep him from bouncing off the walls with his enthusiasm. Not before him pulling you into the tightest hug, real happiness gleaming in his eyes. Umemiya being excited was an understatement, everyday leading up to the big move he would excitedly gush to you of all the new things he would like to do together with you. All the vegetables and fruits he would like to grow in his new garden and maybe even get a pet together. His excitement radiating off of him like the bright sun. You'd have to monitor the packing process because Umemiya would like to stuff everything into one box or misplace a few things. However, when it comes time to move your stuff in he'll quickly usher you to sit down while he brings every box in, despite your protests. He'd even take his shirt off when it gets hot. Even when Umemiya is in the other room, you could hear his animated talking - bringing a smile to your face with how adorable he is. He did not show a moment of tiredness throughout the whole move but once you're both in bed together he pulls you in close with a smile on his face, - drifting asleep.

"Imagine how many get togethers we can have! A barbeque in the summer and a hot pot party in the winter...!"

[shockercoco]

An Honorary Member

Benny Cross x reader

Warnings - fluff, unwanted advances (like one), some swear words

Word count - 2768

a/n -  request: "please please PLEASE do something ANYTHING for benny cross x reader but reader is a sweetheart and is kinda just a goody two shoes..." read the rest of the request here. It's funny how many of your guys wanted this, and of course I had to deliver. I really enjoyed writing this and hopefully this meets your expectations. enjoy :)

“Are you sure it’s okay that I’m coming?” you ask Kathy as she finds a spot on the crowded grass to park.

You look down at your baby pink top, jeans, and white shoes, beginning to second guess your outfit choice. Despite your outfit being basic, you still felt odd amongst all the leather and dark colors. Even Kathy wasn’t wearing anything bright.

“Of course it is. These people don’t care,” Kathy tells as she puts the car in park. “Plus, if it was a problem, Benny wouldn’t have asked you to come.”

Benny loved your outfits. He thought it made you stand out next to him, and he loved that.

“You and I both know he would’ve still invited me if it even if it was a problem,” you point out, causing her to laugh in response.

“Besides you haven’t been around the girls in a while and they're looking forward to seeing you again,” Kathy says.

All the commotion outside could still be heard loud and clear even through the closed windows. You knew about the people Kathy and Benny hung out with and their well known reputation – she was technically the one who introduced you to Benny.

It also wasn’t uncommon for you to see members of the club riding through the streets whenever you were out in public running errands, but you’ve never actually met them. Dating Benny and being friends with some of the guys’ girlfriends was the closest you have gotten to this world. Benny thought it was finally time you meet the club and he thought this outing was the perfect opportunity.

Kathy could see the look of uncertainty on your face as you looked down. “You look fine, don’t worry about it too much. These guys practically wear the same thing all the time, so who are they to judge? Now get the hell out of my car.”

Making sure to grab your homemade cookies from the backseat, you both start heading towards the group. It was your idea to bring the cookies, thinking that it would make it easier for the guys to like you if you brought something to offer. You kind of went overboard and made way too many, though.

As the two of you walk to the table where the girls are, you spot Benny at another table having a smoke and talking to some of the other members.

“You actually came,” one of the girls, whose name you unfortunately forgot, smiled. She jumps up to give you a hug, before taking the cookie-filled container out of your hands, “And you brought goodies.” 

“You would go straight for the food,” Kathy jokes as the girl sits down, allowing others to reach their hand into the container.

The girl shrugs. “Her cookies are the best.”

“It’s been so long since I’ve last seen you,” Gail, whose name you do remember, tells you. You go to sit down next to her, while Kathy sits across from you. “You should come riding with us one time.”

“You ride?” you ask her, your eyebrows raised.

“Well, no not me, but my boyfriend does,” Gail says.

You turn your head as she nods in what you're assuming is her boyfriend’s general direction, but all you notice is Benny walking towards the table.

Benny had noticed your arrival, but Johnny kept running his mouth and he couldn’t find the right time to get away. He eventually just decided to get up and leave because there was no telling if the conversation would ever end, and as of now you were more important to him.

When Benny had first met you it was outside of a bar that basically belonged to the Vandals. You were only there to drop off some money for Kathy for whatever reason because she couldn’t seem to get away.

You were hesitant at first because one: it was the middle of the night, and two: you would be going to a place where all the bikeriders hung out. A bar and a bunch of crazy men didn’t seem like the best combination and you didn’t even understand why Kathy would always go to such a place, but nevertheless she was your best friend, so you felt obligated to go.

You had barely entered the bar when Kathy had come running up to you and thanking you. You were about to tell her it was no problem – even though it most definitely was – but you got distracted by this man coming up behind her.

The tattoos and the unlit cigarette hanging from his lips should’ve been a turn off for you, but you couldn’t help but feel attracted to him. The hair, the way he walked, and the look in his eye just screamed confidence, and you found yourself not being able to look away from him. He gave you a smirk when his eyes found yours, and you immediately looked away as you felt embarrassment flow through your body. 

Yeah, you definitely had to leave.

“Did you want to stay for a drink?” Kathy asked you, breaking you from your thoughts.

“What? Oh, no I should get going. It’s late an–”

“Who’s this?” the man asks Kathy as he approaches the two of you, interrupting your sentence. He removes the cigarette from his mouth and stuffs his hands in the pockets of his leather jacket.

“This is my best friend,” Kathy looks up at him, “and she’s off limits.”

The guy laughs at her statement. “Aren’t you going to introduce me?” he asks her, but he’s looking at you. 

Kathy sighs as she rolls her eyes. “This is Benny,” she tells you before looking back at him, “but it doesn’t really matter because you’re leaving, aren’t you Benny.”

Well if Kathy doesn’t seem to like him, then neither should you. Right?

“Loosen up, Kathy.”

Kathy’s about to say something else, but someone calls her name. She looks behind her before looking back at you Benny. She hesitates for a second before sending Benny a glare and walking away.

“Isn’t it a little late for you to be out by yourself?” Benny asks, looking down at you and giving you this look. A look that gives you butterflies and makes you want to smile, but you resist. His gaze is intense.

“Yes, which is why I’m going home,” you tell him.

“Do you need a ride, I’m on my way out,” he raises an eyebrow. 

“No thanks, I drove here,” you answer.

“Hmm. Well I guess I’ll see you around then,” he smiles. He’s not asking, but telling you.

“I guess so,” you say. 

You don’t know if you’re waiting for him to leave or if he’s waiting on you to make a move first, but you both just stand there for a moment. You don’t know if it’s an awkward or comfortable silence between the two of you, but you can’t handle his eyes on you anymore.

Benny watches you give him a small smile before turning around and exiting the bar. He smiles to himself as he follows you out the door, taking his cigarette and lighter out of his pocket. He watches as you get into the car you parked on the side of the street and drive off, still looking down the street, even when you’re no longer in eyesight.

You were different from him, and he wasn’t sure if it was a good thing or bad thing, but he had to find out. You seemed so gentle and shy, unlike all the other girls that hang around at the bar. Benny felt drawn to you, even though the two of you had only talked for a couple of minutes. The fact that Kathy didn’t want him around  you only egged him on more.

He had to have you.

As you’re having a cup of coffee the next morning, you decide to look out one of your living room windows – something you always do. This time when you move the curtain aside, you almost drop the cup in your hand when you see Benny across the street. He’s leaning against his bike having a cigarette, and you’re wondering how the hell he found you.

And how long has he been out there?

You set your cup down on your living room table before opening the front door. Benny notices the door open and just smirks when he sees you walking down your front steps. He gets up from his position on the bike and walks towards you, flicking his cigarette on the ground.

“What are you doing here?” you ask him once you reach the bottom of your steps, and Benny is standing on the sidewalk. You wrap your sweater tighter around your body as the morning breeze blows past you.

You give him a once-over now that he’s standing in front of you and man does he look good. Why does he look so good? 

“Kathy gave me your address,” he tells you casually.

Your eyes nearly pop out of their head because that is so unlike her. “Are you serious?”

“Yeah,” he nods with amusement, “but don’t be mad at her, I kind of forced it out of her.”

“And you’re here because…?”

“Because I wanted to see you again. I’ve been thinking about you all night,” he tells you. Your heart drops and have to keep your jaw from hanging open because there’s no way.

You wait a second before asking, “How many girls have you said that too?” 

“One,” he smiles at you as he slowly walks towards you. “You.”

That was five weeks ago. You shouldn’t have fallen for that cheesy line, but you did, which is how you now find yourself at this picnic.

“Glad my girl came,” he whispers in your ear as he takes a seat next to you. He smirks as he notices goosebumps popping up along your arm.

“You two make me sick,” Kathy says, but there’s no animosity in her voice. She can’t help but smile as she looks between you and Benny because she’s never seen him like this. Before you, she’s never seen him so…in love. It’s obvious that you have him wrapped around your finger.

Some of the other girls around the table have smiles across their faces too as they witness the interaction too because they can also see the difference in Benny.

“Come on, I want you to meet some of the guys,” he tells you and you nod. He grabs your hand in his as he walks you towards the group of guys he had been talking to when you arrived, feeling kind of nervous as you see all of their eyes on you.

As you approach, one of the older men looks down at your hand connected with his and a grin slowly grows on his lips. He’s sitting at the table while the rest of them either stand around it, or sit on the table top.

“So this is your girl huh, the one you’ve been hiding from us?” the same guy asks.

Benny rolls his eyes. “This is Johnny, he’s in charge of the club.”

“Damn right I am, but that’s not important. It’s nice to finally meet you, sweetheart,” Johnny says as he leans forward and holds his hand out for you to shake. You give him a small smile as you accept his hand.

“We’re here too,” another guy says.

“That’s Cockroach,” Johnny tells you before introducing the rest of them, and pointing out some of the others that are walking around. “And this is Danny, he’s not like everyone else. He’s writing some kind of story or somethin’.”

You turn around to see a guy with a camera hanging around his neck approaching the group, a half eaten cookie in his hand. “Someone made cookies, you guys gotta try them.”

“And you didn’t bring us any? Not cool man,” Cal says.

“Didn’t you make those?” Benny looks down at you, nodding his head towards Danny’s hand.

“Um, yeah.”

“You bake?” Cockroach asks, and you nod.

“Well hand them over so we can try it before they’re all gone,” Johnny says, and you give him a nod before heading back towards the table where the cookies are.

As you’re walking, some drunk guy stumbles his way in front of you, almost bumping into you. Thinking nothing of it since a lot of the men around are wasted, you ignore him and try to go around him. The man doesn’t let you move far though as he grabs your arm and gives you a sly smile. Your face contorts in disgust and you try to jerk your arm away, but his grip is too tight.

“I haven’t seen you around here before, little lady. What’s your name?” he slurs, the smell of alcohol filling your nostrils.

“None of your business,” you tell him. You try to pull your arm away again, but the man’s grip only gets tighter. Your heartbeat picks up as you begin to panic, but there’s too many people around so nothing can happen. Right?

“I like your shirt,” he gives the bottom of your shirt a little tug.

“Stop,” you smack his hand away.

“Come on, don’t be like that, gorgeous. I’m just trying to be nice, the least you could do is tell me your name,” the man steps closer, getting into your face.

“Let me go,” you say sternly, once again trying to move.

“I think you need to be taught some manners,” the man glares at you.

From behind you, Benny sees the altercation going down and begins to come to your aid, but you do something that makes him stop in his tracks.

You smack the man hard, making his head turn to the side. His hand immediately lets go of you to reach up and touch his cheek, the handprint already starting to show.

A few people around who witnessed the scene gasp and laugh. A few whistles and hollers join in.

“You bitch,” he says, his nostrils flaring.

“I guess we both need to be taught some manners,” you spit, no longer feeling shy since there are too many eyes on him.

Apparently, the man notices the stares too because he backs off, but not without giving you one last look.

“Well damn,” Cockroach says amongst the group.

“Got yourself a good one, Benny,” Johnny chuckles, his head falling back. That makes Benny’s heart swell with pride.

“Remind me not to piss her off,” Cal says, his eyes wide.

Kathy comes up to check on you, but you tell her you’re okay. When you come back to the group with the container in your hand, everyone’s looking at you with grins covering their face. Benny shoots you a wink, making your face heat up.

“These aren’t bad at all, you gotta bring these to all the meetings,” Johnny says after taking a bite of his cookie, the guys nodding in agreement.

Now, you don’t know what you were thinking, but the idea of attending meetings hadn’t crossed your mind at all.

You should’ve known because a couple of days later when the club meets at the bar again, you’re right there with them, a few containers of baked goods in your hand. The men don’t waste their time rushing towards you when you first step foot in the bar, making Benny shove his way through the crowd to make sure you don’t get crushed. Surprisingly, though, you don’t mind at all.

“You better wait your turn,” one guy tells another who’s trying to cut in front of him.

“Fuck off,” the man answers and shoves the guy aside.

Benny grabs them both by the neck of their jackets and pulls them back.

“Gentlemen, please, let’s not act like animals,” Johnny calls out.

Word gets out about how good your baking is – and your altercation with that drunk man – causing the bikers to have respect for you. Whenever you need something and Benny’s not around, there’s always someone that volunteers.

If you need a ride to work because your car broke down and Benny’s not able to pick you up, Johnny’s waiting right outside your door. If for some reason, someone dares to shoot their shot at you, it doesn’t take long for the person to get thrown out of the bar. And when you get cold, several of the bikers offer their jackets to you, only for Benny to quickly throw his jacket over your shoulders.

Yeah, you could get used to this.

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