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randombush3 · 1 month

Text

a sense of coming home

ona batlle x reader

summary: part two of this! ona and you are (frustratingly) still just friends

words: 6.5k (i have NO idea why i waffle so much but lets pls allow it)

warnings: there's like five secs of smut at the end

notes: this has been the most self-indulgent fic i've written because this is how i met my gf and so i am glad to show you a nice happy ending

again, the quote is from 'this side of paradise' (said gf's fav book - i don't recommend however because the protagonist is a twat)

also i didn't proofread bc i am exhausted and i am hungover and i am very ready to go to sleep (#globetrotting is not for the weak) x

There is something difficult about forcing oneself back to their toxic roots. Ona discovers as such as she presses her body into a temple of meaningless sex, but she does so because she is a driven person. Ona is determined to get over you, once and for all, except she’d quite like to stay friends (hence why she agreed when asked). She also thinks it would expose her to fall out because her feelings shouldn’t have existed anyway, so she technically shouldn’t be heartbroken?

Anyway, Ona rampages through Manchester! They appreciate her accent – some even ask her to speak to them in Spanish when she is three fingers deep inside of them, to which she obliges with little fanfare – and it isn’t like the city lacks queer women. It is a super solid way to keep her busy, to tear her attention from hungrily checking your Instagram whenever possible.

It’s also what lands her with coronavirus. She’s embarrassed to admit just how many people she has come into contact with when the club doctors ask her questions over the phone.

You send her a lovely message after hearing she is yet another fallen soldier.

Ona is at home, isolating, and you are apparently trapped in Spain, unable to get into Italy. You haven’t quite made it to your parents’ house since your flight was supposed to depart from Madrid. “How come you’re not on the phone to one of your ‘connections’?” Ona asks suspiciously, wondering why this call has lasted longer than ten minutes. “Surely someone knows someone else and they can get you back home.”

“I’m hardly out of my depth in my own country,” you remind her with a twinging sigh, pained that she has suppressed all memories of your childhood. “It’s not like I don’t speak Spanish.”

“Didn’t you get rid of it in your head to make space for Italian and English? Oh, and French too, right? That’s where the fashion weeks are.”

You laugh at her pride for knowing something about your job, but it is not to ridicule her. “I am speaking to you, aren’t I?”

“In Catalan,” she points out. “Forget Spanish, but don’t forget Catalan.”

“I can’t. It’s the language everyone uses to tell me about how fucked you’ve been lately.” You take in a deep breath, uncomfortable with Ona’s silence but knowing your piece needs to be said. “Are you aware of what happened a few months ago? Why I missed the wedding?” One of your friends met her dream man and he whisked her off to Menorca for a small ceremony. Only the people she loved the most were invited, which included your childhood friend group. “We were in New York, a whole bunch of us. It was late but the show had been a big deal so we went out to celebrate, and… these ‘friends’, these people, they aren’t the same as you and me. Most of them are English, you know, and they come from very fancy schools where addiction is normal. Two of them ended up in the hospital that night – the bag hadn’t even made it round to me by the time they’d dropped. I know it seems far-fetched, but all I’m trying to say is that addiction has consequences. Bad consequences.”

“So you’re not on my side?” Ona isn’t taking this too seriously. A few people have joked about her questionable new hobby, but no one has made it seem so dire that they have needed to get you involved. You who, of course, Ona will listen to.

“I am always on your side.”

That is her main take-away from the conversation, Ona chooses, when it ends an hour later. She swoons, meaning the last twenty women have been a waste of time, but she also tortures herself into ignoring the potential problem. Being a sex addict would be embarrassing, so she won’t be.

Though your subtle shaming for her abundance of quick-fix flings is hypocritical, Ona would also hate for you to see her that way. You can avoid commitment all you like, but she is determined to be different to prove to you that she is a viable candidate, should you wish to stop stringing her along. It’s probably toxic; it probably means that you are both clinging onto a friendship that should either end or be labelled something else. It probably is the push and pull that has kept you interested, Ona thinks, because she knows that you like the chase.

However, as much as she’d like to be freed of whatever game she is caught up in, she can’t seem to let you go like that.

…

The next time Ona and you have a proper conversation about something other than how your love lives have been stunted or how people back home are not as successful as the two of you is when most of the restrictions have been lifted.

You waited out the pandemic in Vilassar de Mar, much to your annoyance, but now that you can travel again, the first person on your mind to visit is your childhood best friend. You’re not as close as you used to be, having drifted further during even more years apart, but it does not dull your love for her, nor hers for you.

Ona has changed her mind about Manchester and is forcing herself to like it. It works enough for a visit from you to be the last thing on her mind, and so she slows her response time down until the next arranged date to see each other in person is all set for the summer before the Euros in England.

You’re not quite home but you are in the country, and, with the pre-Euros camp in two days, Ona is spending the final few hours of calm left before the storm in the comforting presence of her mum and dad.

And… you, apparently.

“You weren’t supposed to be here yet,” is Ona’s greeting when she opens the front door.

Your smile is wide and genuine, and you are holding a gift bag in one hand. There is a nice bottle of wine in the other. “Not even an ‘hola’?” When no reply comes, you swallow the emotions that have arisen; the ones that are maybe, just a little bit to do with how soft Ona looks with her hair down. And the slope of her jaw. And the ghosts of defined biceps that bulge even when she isn’t flexing her arms. “I’m dropping by to see your parents. I thought you were in Barcelona with your footballer friends.”

“You visit my parents?” asks Ona curiously.

“Of course.”

With that, you side-step her and call out to her mother, announcing both your arrival and your desire to hand them their gifts. Dinner is just about to be served, and Ona is soon tasked with setting another place at the table for you as though the last ten years had never happened and your friendship hadn’t lost its innocence.

Maybe it would be better for Ona to not know what it feels like to kiss you, to touch you, to – dare she think it – love you. It would certainly make things less painful, and would have saved her from catching at least one illness and spending a good amount of money on Ubers to escape from random apartments. It would make it easier to listen to you talk about your life in Milan, where you seem to exist in a bubble of incredibly attractive people who are desperate to hold hands and form a raft.

“Modelling can be brutal,” you agree, nodding at Ona’s father as you follow on from his concerns about your career. He voices them regularly; whenever you see him. Ona realises you have spent a lot of time with her parents without her. “It gets quite competitive between the girls so I’ve been somewhat avoiding them. They’ve brought in someone new, scouted from Germany, I think, and I’m a little worried that I’ll have to switch agencies if they start prioritising her.” You glance at Ona, wanting to know if she is listening, hoping she is. You wish that she were as good at suppressing her feelings as you are. You wish she didn’t look at you like you hung the moon, because you know that you have to tell her you have hung it for someone else. “I’d move tomorrow, to be honest, but I’ve started seeing this guy and he’s convincing me to stay in Milan.”

“The minute he is your boyfriend, you bring him here,” commands Ona’s mother in a tone she hasn’t yet used on her actual daughter (said daughter has never mentioned anyone before). “Show us a picture of him! Is he a model like you?”

He is, and if Ona holds her fork tighter after she sees the photo you pull up, that is her business. You secretly take in her clenched jaw and furrowed eyebrows, and this might be the worst thing you have ever had to do. To see her so defeated, so hopeless, is upsetting, especially since you are harbouring the same feelings. However, you are able to admit when it is time to throw the towel in, and you can no longer live like this.

Ona is too perfect for you. She is driven, hard-working, and funny. She likes to nutmeg little children on the street, and she likes to buy them an ice-cream if they slip a goal past her, slotting the flat footballs into imaginary nets and celebrating as though they have just won the Champions League. She knows a lot, more than she thinks she does. She cares about people, but sometimes it manifests in anger, in frustration.

Any aspect of her is an aspect that you could love, and that is reason enough not to. Because how can you allow yourself to taint such perfection?

But, in this unspoken rejection, the compliment is obscured from the recipient’s view. All Ona sees when you gush about how he buys you flowers and takes you out to dinner, is a burning, bright question. It flashes red and yellow, both as a warning and cry for attention. How can she compete if you don’t even recognise her as a competitor?

…

“--And then they proceeded to finish a film they were halfway through as if it were the most normal thing ever,” Ona rants the minute she hits the concrete of Las Rozas, walking into the facility with Aitana and the other girls who travelled with her from Barcelona. Only the midfielder has been gracious enough to listen to the entire monologue, but the others joke that that is because Ona’s emotional state has led her to spiral in her native language. It is forbidden for them to openly speak Catalan in the Spanish camp, according to Jorge Vilda, who loves to hurl a ‘we can send you back to where you came from in an instant’ their way if he so much as hears a ‘bon dia’. Naturally, Aitana doesn’t give a fuck about the rule, although Ona chooses to believe that she is listening because she cares.

“Are you done?” Aitana asks thoughtfully, sucking on her bottom lip as she tries to absorb her friend’s crisis and formulate a valid, sensible response. The two have known each other for a while now, and Aitana remembers a time when Ona was relentlessly teased by their older teammates for being in love with her best friend. It is clear to her that those feelings never ceased, though she has heard through the grapevine (Leila Ouahabi) that you are now a model and you live somewhere in Italy. You’re part Italian, is what Leila also claims, having professed your ethnicity to a small huddle of fellow gossipers one day in the gym at the Barça training facility.

“No! Nothing is ever done with her. It’s viscous and it continues in a horrid cycle that has me flapping around in circles like some idiot. I am one of her boys.” Ona groans dramatically, the sound perhaps a little too loud. A few of the girls in front of them turn around to see why a cat seems to have been strangled, but they quickly lose interest when they see it is just Ona and her disastrous situation. “Do you know how fucking humiliating it is to be one of her guys? I am a professional footballer! I play for Manchester United, one of the most historic clubs in the world, and I am about to represent my country in a major tournament. I am successful, Aita, and yet I am still not enough for her.”

“Maybe she only likes men.”

“A man has never made her scream like I have,” she bites back. Aitana blushes, but Ona is too far gone in her rage to hear her crudeness nor preserve her friend’s sanity. “She’s been like this since she decided she was gay! Isn’t that hilarious? ‘Ona, I think I’m gay’, she said. I know lesbian breakups can be hard, but there is no way my cousin fucked her up to this extent.”

“I can’t help you with this, Oni,” Aitana laments, sorry to have to confess this to her friend. “I think you need to talk to her about it. A proper conversation to fix long-term issues, not like the ones you obviously had when agreeing to stop having sex and things like that. Only she knows what she’s thinking.” It is definitely not the advice Ona wants to hear, but she cannot deny the midfielder’s wisdom. “But for now, we focus on winning.”

…

You are more than a little confused.

To start from the beginning, Ona’s cousin fucked you up. She broke your heart, and that first impression of dating girls was incredibly traumatising. With girls, you don’t just kiss and sleep with them, you get close – really close – and then when you break up, it is like you have lost both a girlfriend and a best friend.

Men are a lot simpler. Men like you and they aren’t shy about it. They can sometimes be just as cruel, but you have never felt invested enough to care too much.

Some nights, you don’t fall asleep, tossing and turning between your sexual identity, aware that you don’t need to label it but desperate to… discover yourself. If you don’t understand that part of you, how will someone else? How can you be loved? How do you even know who you want to love you?

For as much as Milan is great, it definitely doesn’t help you with your crisis. Girls in Milan like to do what they want. It is not uncommon for the models to kiss each other in clubs, in front of appreciative male gazes or not, and then reveal their engagement to their future husband the very next day. It’s easy to be drawn into such a bubble, but the minute you step out of it, you are hit with the real world.

It’s what makes the pandemic so distressing for you personally, because you are forced to live like normal people for some time. Your eyes are held open and the question is shoved down your throat, and it really doesn’t help that Ona’s cousin never moved out of Vilassar de Mar.

She sees you one day, saying hello from a suitable distance as you pick up milk as per your mother’s request. “I heard you’re modelling?” she asks with no agenda, no seductive glint in her eye. You notice the ring on her finger, and she feels the heaviness of your staring. “Oh, I got married a year ago. Did Ona not tell you?”

You realise that you and Ona try to avoid talking about anything other than the love interests you have. “No, she didn’t. Congratulations, though. She’s a lucky woman.”

“You don’t have to pretend you’re happy for me,” laughs the woman opposite you, amused and somewhat apologetic. “Look, I’m really sorry for how I acted when we were younger. I was definitely not the most mature person out there, and I know I hurt you.”

“I cried for months.”

“I’m sorry,” she repeats. You suck in a deep breath, trying to hold the memories of your pain at bay. “The first breakup is usually the worst but at least it gets better, as you probably know.”

She looks at you expectantly, awaiting your confirmation. It never comes.

“I haven’t dated another girl since,” you tell her, sounding rather detached from yourself.

Her eyebrows furrow and she is clearly frowning behind her facemask. “What about Ona? I thought you were together when you lived in Madrid. It takes more than a friendship to do what you did.”

You were originally going to go to university in England. It was your dream, and Ona wasn’t entirely aware of the situation because you hadn’t wanted to tell her you were leaving. Then she was sent out on a professional contract to Madrid, and it wasn’t like you were the only one leaving.

Ona’s cousin, years ago, had suggested that you go to Madrid if you wanted to get away from Vilassar de Mar. “You’ll be close enough to come home when you’d like, but not so close that you’ll feel as though nothing has changed,” she had said.

No one had known about your offers in England aside from your parents. And Ona’s cousin, who’d only found out because you had called her, drunk on celebratory champagne, because you had to tell someone.

“You gave up a dream for her because you didn’t want her to be alone.”

“I moved to Milan. In the end, she was alone.”

“You sound like you regret it,” she replies, nodding once at you to bid you farewell and then heading over to a woman who is standing with a puppy in her arms. You watch as she pulls down her mask and kisses her wife, her eyes shining with love and happiness, and your blood runs green with jealousy.

You hate Ona’s cousin for devastating you once more.

Do you regret it?

It’s unclear.

You try to make sense of it when you don’t hesitate to fly back to Italy the minute you can, going home to lick your wounds at Ona’s non-committal response to meeting you when you are in London the next month. It hurts that she is no longer at your beck-and-call, but you are somewhat happy for her. You know that lines have been crossed and that she has suffered for it. You know that you are probably the one at fault here.

This time in Milan, you don’t fight it as much. You kiss other girls and let them go home to their boyfriends; you submit to the thing you had convinced yourself you would never become.

As you drive yourself deeper and deeper into your stereotype, the thought of Ona gets pushed away and newer, more culturally-acceptable fantasies come to mind.

It takes a photoshoot for him to ask you out on a date.

It takes returning home and gaining the approval of Ona’s parents (who are far more open than your own) for you to agree to be official.

You don’t ask Ona what she thinks. She’s busy, you reason, because she is representing Spain at the Euros. She won’t care who you are dating and she certainly doesn’t need it rubbed in her face.

There are many reasons why you go out with him.

One is that you do like him; he’s nice, he’s funny, he treats you well. (He’s not Ona.) Another is that rent is going up and him sharing the load is helpful. (He’s not Ona.) There is also that he is very popular within the agency, and your chemistry on camera is enough to keep your jobs rolling in and casting directors satisfied.

He’s not Ona. You know that.

That's the whole point.

If he were Ona, you’d be deeply in love with him. If he were Ona, you would never leave the house, never leave his embrace, never leave the little bubble created when it is just the two of you and no one else. If he were Ona, you would be excited about the conversations he gently guides you into; marriage, children, where you are going to live one day. You’d miss him more when he isn’t here. You’d care.

But you just… don’t.

Another year passes, more Ona-less than the last, and then she is suddenly coming back home to Barcelona, a medal around her neck and word of a relationship floating above her head.

You could ask her about it if you wanted to because she is still one of your closest friends, but the truth is, you really, desperately don’t want to hear it. While Ona has been falling in love with someone else, you have been proving your stupid feelings to yourself.

The act (your current relationship) lowers enough for you to go home for Christmas. You leave Milan as though fleeing from a hurricane, and you refuse to control the damage until you have entered the new year. Your parents aren’t entirely sure they want you moping about the house, confused how someone so successful can revert to a moody teenager the minute they are back in safe territory, and they heavily encourage you to accept an invite that was extended out to you a few months ago.

Your friends are going skiing in Andorra, and they’d like for you to come with them.

“Ona won’t be there,” one of them regretfully informs you. “She said she doesn’t want to make things weird. She has a girlfriend – or, I don’t know, a talking stage. She wants you to have fun.”

“But Ona and I are friends,” you try to explain, feeling exposed by the look of pity she gives you; the same look someone receives when they find out their ex has gotten married or something similar. As a defensive mechanism, you hastily pull out your phone and dial her number. Everyone watches you, now uninterested in their food as you dine and plan your holiday.

Ona picks up on the third ring, escaping her dinner with Lucy and rushing into the cool, nighttime air of Barcelona.

“Hi?” she says – asks – with raised eyebrows, wondering if you’re in danger.

“You’re coming skiing with us, aren’t you?”

Your friends hide their laughs behind their hands, surprised by how firm your tone is. You do not need it for Ona, because she does anything you say regardless, but they enjoy seeing this side of you. This is someone who has had to fend for herself in a foreign country.

Removing the phone from her ear for a moment, Ona sighs, disappointed in herself.

“Yeah, of course. I’ve missed you, you know.”

…

Skiing is not something Ona is really allowed to do. As a footballer, her legs are what pay her wage. Career-destroying planks of metal are not the best way to spend the dying embers of the year. She knows that. She does, she swears, but she is so eager to go that Jonatan cannot crush her dreams. He tells her, “if you get injured your contract will be reviewed, Ona Batlle,” and she promises him that it won’t happen. Nothing bad is going to happen.

It will be the first time she has spent more than a day with her childhood friends, and she is unbelievably excited.

Lucy finds it adorable and makes it known, helping her pack for her trip, versed in what to bring because her sister skis or something like that (Ona can’t really focus on her almost-girlfriend's monologue). Lucy likes Ona a lot, and it makes her stomach flutter when she thinks about Ona and her friends talking about them. She’s sure her feelings are reciprocated, and she cannot wait for Ona to return to her in the new year, all smiles and lingering hangovers, and ask her to be her girlfriend. Officially.

Your friends convene in the centre of Vilassar de Mar with two cars between you. There are ten people coming.

Someone, most-likely trying to keep the peace, instructs Ona into one vehicle and you into the other. The drive isn’t too long, but you suppose that the tension is uncomfortable for those who aren’t accustomed to maintaining a friendship despite the weight of it.

It’s five days, and you are determined to have fun.

Ona is naturally good at this, although she claims it is her first time. You, living in Milan, are just as advanced.

By the third day, the both of you agree that going off together to do some of the harder runs will be harmless. Spending the day together won’t feel like a date or a romantic holiday. Watching Ona glide over the compacted snow won’t be attractive, watching her cocky smirk as she scales the bumps along the side of the piste won’t do anything.

It won’t. (It does.)

And it just has to be the third day that someone pulls out two bottles of tequila and a drinking game that is going to ensure every single one of you is off your face by midnight.

In rooms opposite one another, you and Ona call your respective partners and tell them about how great a time you are having, actively avoiding telling them about who you spent the day with as though it counts as cheating. It doesn’t, technically. Nothing has happened. But, still, it feels intimate and secret; forbidden.

Then, there is a shout that rings through the house. Everyone comes to the table; the party has begun.

Ona finds out that she is absolutely terrible at drinking games, and loses in every way possible.

You find out that she is still just as touchy when she is drunk.

Your friends try not to comment on it, all having agreed upon yet another passive role in such an irritating situation. Their non-interference almost ceases by the time Ona climbs onto your lap, head turning as she whispers something into your drunk ears, making you laugh privately. In fact, someone has to hold someone else back before they shout at the two of you to make out or break up.

But it’s not really necessary, their prompting, because it hits a certain hour and… nothing else matters anymore.

Ona has been touching you the whole night and you have finally reached your limit.

Boyfriend be damned, you lead her to your bedroom.

She asks you many times if you still want this, and you cannot think of anything to say other than ‘yes’.

You’re not as drunk as she is, and you both know that, but everything feels so perfect and right.

When you wake up the next morning, your anger is more at yourself than the sleeping woman beside you, but she is an outward target for such a boiling emotion and it just makes things easier.

“Ona.” You shake her awake, not caring for her hangover. “Ona, I can’t believe we’ve done this.” She rubs her eyes, dazed and confused for a moment but coming to her senses soon enough. “I have a boyfriend, Ona, and… I don’t like you like that.”

It’s not true.

It’s really, really, really not true, but the fact that you have said it is enough for Ona to leave your room with the intention of never seeing you again.

She gets the train back to Barcelona, turning up at Lucy’s flat in floods of tears, and barrels straight into those strong arms with the intention of never mentioning what she has done.

…

You break up with your boyfriend a month later. Or rather, he breaks up with you, tired of being messed around, tired of your hesitation to fully commit.

The break-up is not the most upsetting thing you’ve been through, but your ego is a little bruised.

You try to make it look like you are having a great time in Milan, even though the agency has once again discarded your file and overlooked you for shoots you used to book in an instant. You try to seem like things aren’t falling apart, but it’s of no use when your father calls you and tells you that your mother is ill.

It isn’t cancer but it’s similar, and you know that you need to come home.

You pack your bags and leave without a second thought, because maybe Madrid was far enough. Maybe there is a reason Ona signed for her home club again and most of your friends still live relatively close to their parents.

Maybe you are not meant to be separated from those you love, because running away is futile if you are always going to end up together again.

In Barcelona, a modelling agency eagerly draws up a contract with you. Although you are from there, your career being based in Milan previously creates an international allure about you (or so they say), and you are assured that work is going to rush towards you as though someone has just knocked down a dam.

Your job is secured, your mother begins treatment, but there is something you cannot shake off.

It hurts to think of Ona, to think of how you left things, but it helps, too. Seeing her face in your mind is comforting. You hear her voice as you drift off to sleep, and you let it soothe you in your dreams.

“Ona has a girlfriend,” her mother tells you when you next visit them. Her frown is unexpected because all she has ever wanted is for her children to be happy and loved. “It’s not right, it doesn’t feel right.” You begin to shrug your shoulders and crawl into your shell, but she interrupts your thought process; “I think you should go see her.”

“Why?”

The woman rolls her eyes. “Just do what I say.”

You nod because she is so scarily sure about it, and you… It’s hard to believe, but you call Ona.

She picks up.

“I was sorry to hear about your mum.”

“Don’t worry. She’s fine.”

“Are you back at home?”

“Yeah, I am.” You pause. “Well, not quite. I’m living in Barcelona.”

Something fizzes in the air; pops, crackles.

“Need me to show you around the city?”

And it’s Ona, so how could you say no?

…

Your visit goes very well.

She takes you out to dinner and shows you around her neighbourhood. She introduces you when she runs into people she knows, and she is insistent about dragging you to her football match on the weekend.

Everything is seemingly forgiven and Ona is intent on integrating you back into her life.

She wants you to feel at home, though she knows you should already, and she wants to lessen the stress of hospital appointments and death and, if not death, then a difficult recovery.

You are sitting in her apartment – now devoid of all signs of Lucy – on her comfortable sofa, watching something together after a day of walking around and sealing up the cracks that formed in Andorra.

Sitting leads into cuddling and then into wandering hands that eagerly roam underneath layers of fabric.

Ona’s breath hitches as you brush the hard lines of her abs, your hands particularly drawn to them and just how strong she has become. “You must have only felt them on men,” she offers as an explanation. “How many have you slept with in comparison to–?”

And your hands stop.

“Sorry,” Ona mumbles, seemingly upset at her outburst. “I’m just curious. I can’t work you out.” She can’t quite look you in the eye, mainly due to the logistics of your position, but she isn’t sure she wants to see the truth attached to her statement.

You question if that’s a good thing, the fact she needs to ask; the fact that she has no choice but to communicate. It was going to happen sooner or later. “A few,” is what you settle on. Ona leaves it at that, carefully pulling the hair tie from your plait, unravelling it with one hand as the other rests against your stomach in an embrace. You smile. “You’re not going to ask who?”

Her fingers stop for a moment. “No.” She speaks so quietly, her voice almost a whisper in your ear. “I don’t care about them.” You relax into her more, feeling her against your back, feeling the softness of the blanket against your feet as it hangs at the edge of the sofa.

“Who do you care about, then?”

“You.”

Carefully, both her hands hold your hips and she sits you up, smiling as she does. You tell her she’s showing off, she replies that you are always showing off. To that, you brush those hands from your sides and lean down to kiss her, more decidedly for once; more in control. It’s a surprising feeling for both of you, the forcefulness. Urgency. Not unfamiliar, but unexpected for this time on this day.

The last time you kissed Ona, you had a boyfriend.

Your mouth goes to her neck as soon as she decides that she wants her hands back on your hips, pushing you down into her lap. It’s now a competition, you think. She’s quickly coming completely undone by your kissing and biting, but you are not ignoring the feeling as she makes you grind down, makes you need that friction. “Fuck,” you moan in her ear. She grips you tighter.

You start to pull off her shirt having had enough of the grey between you, asking if it’s okay, if she’s sure she isn’t too tired. Her reply is, “take it off, god,” and then the removal of your clothes that get thrown just shy of the wine glasses set out on her coffee table. Leggings aren’t the most practical for impromptu sex, but she’s quick and smooth and someone who has definitely done that before.

With your bare chest on display and almost nothing between Ona and you, she lifts you up for a moment with the intention of flipping the two of you, getting you on your back. You pause for a moment, trying to decide if she’s doing it because she wants to or because she thinks that’s the only way to do it, but her hands are moving now, up your sides, round the front of your chest and you relax. She laughs quietly, amused, because the tension dissipates, dissolving like sweet, sweet sugar in hot coffee as soon as your legs wrap around her back.

Ona asks before she does it, picking you up and laying you back down without needing to part her lips from your own. You watch her as she sits up, body in between your thighs. “You’re going to just stay there?” She shakes her head. “I can top,” you tease, a stark contrast from how it was the last time you did this. Ona doesn’t like being told she can’t do something. However indirectly.

“Yeah?” You nod, biting the smirk out of your lips. “I don’t care.”

You are in the process of rolling your eyes when her cocky mouth is put to good use. Your underwear was taken off at some point earlier — you hadn’t realised. Ona’s head moves between your legs, up and down, your hand that isn’t holding onto the sofa in her hair, the soft waves lacing between your fingers.

She’s good at it; thorough, practised. Her tongue circles your clit for a moment before dipping into your entrance. Something about the cockiness of her movements, her tongue, her hand rubbing between her own legs, makes everything more surreal, more blissful. She moans softly, lips kissing their way up your body, hands no longer focused on herself. Instead, they take the place of her mouth, two fingers inside you as quickly as it takes for her to ask if you are okay to carry on. Your reply (“yes”) is cut off quickly by her mouth on yours, tongue swiping at your bottom lip in another question of permission. You can taste yourself on her.

At her command, you sit up, letting her pull you back onto her lap as she sucks at your neck. “Don’t leave any marks,” you warn as her teeth pull a whimper from your supposed stoicness. “I don’t want the makeup artists asking questions.” It comes out too late, because you feel her teeth graze your collarbone quickly, not painful, no, but something that feels so, so good. “Ona.” She sighs in disappointment and adjusts where you are in her lap, so your legs are either side of her thigh.

You find yourself rocking slowly, letting her savour your breasts between her hands and her mouth. She whispers that she wants to see you come, that you don’t need to hold back – not with her, not ever – so you start grinding down, harder, faster. Her hands drop back to your hips, guiding your movements, forcing you to slow down when she feels everything building up. Each time, you let out a “fuck” and attempt to go against her grip to get that friction. “Not just yet,” she mutters, no longer touching you anywhere other than where her hands meet your hips and her thigh presses between your legs.

“Fuck off, Ona,” you breathe, frustrated. “When, then?”

She slows the pace even more. “Can you last a little longer?” You look at her face, brushing away the strands of hair that have fallen over her eyes, ghosting your fingers along her cheek, running your thumb along her lips. She smiles again, eyes creasing slightly.

As her hands drop to cup your face, you say, “you’re beautiful.”

Ona blushes.

You look down at her exposed cleavage, nipples pebbled against the sports bra that is unusually low-cut. It might border on intense staring as you begin to grind against her with the intention of actually getting off now. She laughs, saying her eyes are higher up than that, but going back to her trail of kisses along your jaw nevertheless.

For what seems like longer than a few seconds, the build up finally stops, the tower toppling over in a rush of pleasure. Ona’s hands move your hips as your head drops to rest on her shoulder. She talks you through it, telling you that you look so pretty, telling you that she’s so turned on.

And that’s when she whispers it.

It has taken years to get to this moment, many of them filled with unnecessary suffering.

It has taken years but it does not matter.

Ona tells you that she loves you and that is when you have finally come home.

#woso x reader #woso #randombush3 #barca femeni #woso imagines #ona batlle x reader #ona batlle #ona batlle smut

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ben-talks-art · 1 year

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Trapped and Dreaming Freedom

So I've been reading these two webtoons lately about female leads stuck in very toxic and unhealthy relationships (while being aware of it), and I'm loving every second of it!

If you know me, you know I just love a badass cool female lead and I also love seeing characters stuck in very difficult situations and watching how they use their brains and/or skills to get out of it, and both comics excel at these aspects!

First series is "Trapped", a comic about this taxi driver who got tangled by accident with a vampire who develops an obsession with both her and her blood after she manages to outsmart him a couple of times, something that hasn't happened to him in years.

It feels very "Tom and Jerry" with both characters trying to get the upper hand on their relationship, and you would think it would be super one-sided but vampires actually have quite a bit of annoying rules on how they work that severely limit their freedom and our female lead exploits as many of them as she can to make him eat sh*t! It's just glorious!

"Dreaming Freedom" is... somehow less dark, and at the same time way darker of a series.

It's not as violent or gory but it deals with more realistic problems that hit closer to home for some like school bullying, abandonment, harassment, family abuse, and so on.

The premise is that our female lead teams up with a guy that has the power to use dreams to affect people in the real world, and they use this ability to get revenge on all the girl's classmates that harassed her, but the more our female lead does that, more the male lead gets obsessed with her and we later find out that he has some serious anger issues making him extremely dangerous.

Our lead basically goes from "I can use him to get payback!" to "Oh my God, I'm the only thing that's keeping this dude under control and away from people!"

It feels like you're being handed a living knife that you just pray won't run out of control or turn itself against you. It's so uncomfortable but at the same time so thrilling!

While I really don't like when unhealthy relationships are glamorized and used to send some kind of "Oh, he's kinda dangerous... But at least he loves you, so it's okay, right?" message, I do like it when the unhealthiness of the relationship is the focus AND is painted as a problem that needs to be fixed.

I like how both female leads always call the male leads on their bs and keep them in check whenever they start going too far, and it's fun to see how they use them whenever they're backed into a corner by the antagonists of the stories.

Also like the themes these series explore, about how when you keep dealing with people that act like monsters you see yourself slowly turning into a monster yourself and start to attract other monsters as well, eventually making you question how far can you go? How far should you go? Can you get back from it? And so on.

But most of all, I like that both series make sure to show that these "bad boys" were their last freaking options. Not the first, not the second, but the very bottom of the barrel. They went to them only after they felt they had no other choices and were sure that nobody else would take their side.

This isn't just "Oh, I went to him because he's a hot bad boy", this is "The world turned its back on me so I'm gonna use the only cards that I have left."

They basically made a deal with their devils and now the fun is watching to see how/if they're gonna get out of it.

This is how I like to see problematic relationships. You don't paint them as something normal or something good, you paint them as a hardship that needs to be dealt with and use it to do clever commentary on the worst aspects of humanity so we can learn how to be better and as a source for good and intense drama to make us worried for the main characters and invested in seeing them get out okay.

#dreaming freedom #free in dreams #trapped #olgami #webtoon #Kkum-eseo Jayu-ro

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honeycreamsweets · 2 years

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⭐️Fading Star (Part 2)⭐️

Miya Atsumu x gender neutral reader

(You/yours and they/them for reader)

All angst. (Only small comfort)

Mentions- Reader is still heartbroken. And is uncomfortable. Atsumu still has no idea of their feelings. He lacks self-awareness of how he treats Reader. Small confrontations but nothing intense. Akaashi is a good boy and Sakusa got a lil attitude. Crying. Lots hugs. Some cursing?? Pet names and reader is angry internally. Sad Atsumu. Both are kinda shitty to each other. Unrequited feelings and realizing you're too late to fix this.

Word count- 4100

Notes- Had a bad weekend!!! Someone made me cry and feel awful so you guys get to feel awful with me<3 we suffer together. Anyway. I originally wasn't going to do a part 2. I had a weird time trying to figure out a part 2 until it hit me and then I've kinda been nonstop writing for the last two days. No beta reader cause I don’t have one but I’m sorry about mistakes! Enjoy !

Part one

The drive back home from his game was so painful. He set it in stone that you were a backup friend for his relationships. Your friendship would never be the same. Days turned into weeks. Weeks turned into months. The pain from losing your star lingered but it dulled over time. It became easier to distract yourself from the bleeding light that Atsumu left in your life. It washed over you in waves. Some days it was easier to say you were over it. And other days, it hurt to see him in passing. You made a vow to yourself to enjoy being a distant observer of someone’s star. You’d find a better star. Maybe.

It was four months until Atsumu’s and his partner’s first anniversary. You endured the friendship and stayed readily available for him. These feelings were bottled up within you. You tried to speak up during those months. Atsumu shot you down before he could be even considered your point of view.

“We don’t hang out anymore. You don’t talk to me or your other friends. I miss you and I’m glad you’re with someone who makes you happy but you’re neglecting everyone else. You rushed in-“

You were cut off by his annoyed groan. “Not you too…” he mumbled under his breath. “Listen, y/n. I’m doing things I haven’t done before. You should be happy for me. We can hang out later. I’ve done my part to keep my friends so. Just learn to be happy for me. That’s what I would do for you.” His demeanor was defensive and it only made you feel worse. Maybe you were a terrible friend..? You should have been happy for him..! But you couldn’t find it in yourself to do that. You changed the topic and never tried to talk about it again. You didn’t tell anyone else, fearing that someone would discover your feelings. You bottled up your sad feelings over that star and hid them from the world.

You received an invitation from Atsumu to hang out since his partner was out for the day. You debated on if it was a good idea to see him for a long period. He never made time for you. He was shitty at messaging you back unless he needed something. He wasn't even half the friend he was before. But alas. That dumbass had your heart wrapped around his finger even if time had passed. You agreed while your inner thoughts were begging you to not go. You knew it’d only cause you to regress.

But you wanted to see your- their star.

A small moment of relief occurred when you saw the other parked cars of his teammates and friends outside of his apartment. You sighed softly as you walked to his floor. Sounds of Bokuto’s and Atsumu’s muffled yells could be heard through the door. Normally, you would have smiled to hear them being so loud. It was difficult to mask the dull ache from your yearning over Miya Atsumu. You softly knocked on the door and exhaled sharply before practicing a smile. You were greeted by Hinata suddenly. “Y/N!!!!!” He yelled while trapping you in a tight hug.

The sounds of his laughter and your pleas to be set free drew the attention of the others. Atsumu walked to the door to see you engulfed in a hug. “Heyyy, Y/n! Good to see y-” He was interrupted by Bokuto shoving him aside. The tight hug became even tighter as Bokuto joined in. Atsumu chuckled as he watched. He opened his arms to join in the big bear hug. “Damn, I invited ‘em over and you guys are acting like that’s your best friend.”

You smiled sheepishly as you were squished between the two men. He hadn't called you that in a long time... The second you saw Atsumu approaching while still calling you his best friend, you panicked. You poked at Hinata’s and Bokuto’s sides until they let go. You didn’t want to be suspicious but you didn’t want to make the effort to hug him. If you had his teammates as a barrier. He didn’t deserve a hug in your eyes. “Hi, it’s good to see you guys.” You spoke quickly. “Who else is here?” You asked as you stepped into the apartment.

Atsumu frowned at not receiving a hug. “Omi, Keiji, and Rin,” He said as he glanced at Hinata and Bokuto in question. The other two men shrugged and glanced between each other. Atsumu followed you inside. To his disbelief, he saw you embrace Suna, Akaashi, AND Sakusa before him. You always made sure to put him first. Why pull this now? “Oh, and Samu will be here to drop off —---.” He raised a brow in question at Sakusa, who had his arms wrapped around your torso loosely. Sakusa shrugged at him briefly after you let go. “Are you gonna say hi to me or hug me, Huh??” He looked at you expectantly and with a pout on his face.

That’s exactly what you feared. You thought you wouldn’t have to endure seeing him happy with someone else. But never mind. You nodded and turned slowly before looking at Atsumu with a big grin. “Sounds great and Hi, bestie.” You gave him a brief side hug; however, his hug consumed your whole body. The action made you tense before slowly hugging him back. Your expression became more neutral gradually as you melted into the hug. you inhaled softly and lost yourself in the embrace that you longed for. To Atsumu, your avoidance was a flunk but you were specifically avoiding the inevitable. This. You were screaming at yourself to let go and remember that you were done with him. Everything felt okay again. You were enjoying his light when you had no right to. You mustered up some willpower and forced yourself to pull away before he could. “What game are we playing?”

The night continued with everyone having fun. Your facade was worked. And for a while..? It was how things were before. You felt relieved and desperately missed the interactions you used you have with all of them regularly. Your guard dropped and for once in a long time. You felt that Atsumu still truly cared about you, again. Even just as a friend. Rekindling with everyone made the evening feel fun and everyone got along.

Atsumu felt content about all of his closest friends being together once again. A large sense of love and pride ran through him. Everything was complete in his eyes. Being a star, he was used to being observed by everyone. But he had a group of people to who he always wanted attention. His closest friends, his brother, his best friend, and his partner. He shined brightly for those he cared about. In a way, Osamu, Y/n, and his partner were his stars. He loved how each had their own light and reacted differently to him. Soon he’d have all three of his stars together.

The front door unlocked. Atsumu and you both looked toward the door to see who it was. It was Osamu and —-. At the same time, you two reacted. Atsumu smiled and beamed as he started getting excited for his partner and Osaumu to join. You, on the other hand, your smile faded into a small one. A visible shift in your mood occurred and it caught the attention of three guests. But not the person who mattered to you most.

Osamu, Akaashi, and Sakusa noticed the change before glancing at Atsumu and then at each other. Unbeknownst to you, you had exposed yourself. The three had some slight suspicions about your behavior.

Atsumu quickly welcomed his partner. He cupped their face while sharing a loving kiss with them. The scene made you nauseous. You turned your head away to protect yourself. All the hard work you had done would have been for nothing. You couldn’t break and feel more heartache over someone who had no idea about your feelings. You didn't hate his significant other. You hated how they snuck in and pushed you down from Atsumu's priorities. Atsumu told you how they cared about you but it seemed the opposite. You didn’t trust yourself to not tear up at the sight of them. You swallowed your pride and said hello anyway.

No matter what happened, or how much time had passed. Atsumu wasn’t yours. He could never love you in the way you wanted him to. He wasn’t your star. The stardust that he left behind time and time again, would always cloud your vision and your heart.

Osamu walked by you with a bag of groceries in hand. “I’m gonna make something. Wanna help?” He asked, grinning down at you. He was trying to give you an escape. A break from the couple that caused you pain. His smile turned into a frown when you shook your head at him. In a small voice, you mumbled a “No” before staring at the TV. Osamu sighed slightly and left you be. “Does anyone wanna help me?”

“I do!” “ME!” The two voices were Hinata and Atsumu’s partner. The two of them ran into the kitchen.

Atsumu laughed before taking a seat beside you. He looked at you happily until he noticed your blank stare. He took the opportunity to throw his arm around your shoulder and pulled you closer to him. “Heyyyyy, we’re all having funnnn! Don’t zone out on us! Who else is gonna talk to me about the newest episode we watched of our favorite show.”

You sucked your teeth and forced a smile. “I’m just tired, and I haven’t seen it yet. You told me that we’d watch it together. So I haven't watched it yet. Have you watched it already?” You looked at his face for some honesty. A moment of weakness because you felt desperate to hear that he kept something special between just you two. He had the effort to invite you over. He could have waited to do one of the last shared activities you two had… Right..?

Atsumu looked nervous and started stuttering. “Wellll. Ya knowwww. Uhh. We can still watch it! I... Um. I haven’t seen it with you yet?“ He looked past you for the aid of your mutual friends. He wanted you to still be excited but his confession already slipped out.

Sakusa caught his beg for help and rolled his eyes. He had no intentions of helping. Bokuto chimed after letting Atsumu dig himself into a deeper grave. “Well it’d be the first time you’d see it together so does that count? I mean I think We can all watch it so it's our first time together” Bokuto looked like a sad little puppy while trying to reach for a good reason for you to not be upset.

Suna scoffed, “Y/n, he watched it without you. —— and him wouldn’t shut up about it a few days ago. He said you’d be cool with it.”

You looked back at Suna and then at Bokuto with an upset look on your face. “ I thought you’d wait for me, Miya.” You said as you looked Atsumu in the eyes. Using his last name made him wince. “You couldn’t wait even though you said you would? We don’t hang out like we used to anymore. We don't do anything together anymore. You know that. And you couldn’t wait, so why try and lie?”

Atsumu shrugged his shoulders and laughed uneasily. “Y/n..! Heyyyyyy come ooon. You know it’s still our thing. I just got overexcited. Plus It was late and we watched it. But you should be happy for me! I mean I found out that —- likes, all the same, shows you and me like! And without you, we wouldn’t be having so much fun. You’re the reason why I’m such a good boyfriend cause you taught me to be better. Don’t be upset..! Come on, you know I still love you though!”

You stared at him and then looked at the ground. Your heart was racing and you felt like you received whiplash. He was doing all the things you two did together with them..? You were just a.. a temporary emotional connection for him to practice a relationship with. You used to tear up and feel giddy when he said he loved you. Now it felt empty. It stung more to hear those words. You knew it was a bad idea to come over. You opened your mouth to speak before closing it again. You had to play it off. “No worries, dude. Don’t even worry about it. It’s just a show.” You grinned half-heartedly but your hands were shaking.

Atsumu stared at your face for any signs of dishonesty and then smiled in relief. “Alright. Thanks for understanding.” He patted your back before leaving you on the couch. He widened his eyes and exhaled sharply as he walked away. He needed to remove himself from the tense situation.

Sakusa glanced at you and then at Suna, Bokuto and Akaashi. You looked distressed and anxious. The more they stared at you, the more you felt worse. Akaashi spoke up, “Y/n…? Are you okay?”

It broke you. A small question is all that it took for your eyes to water. You held onto your emotions for so long… It was just a dumb show. It shouldn’t have hurt that he lied and used your friendship to test out things to do in a relationship. It wasn’t fair. You thought he cared..! You looked up at him with a slow nod. Your vision became blurrier by the second. You were crying and no matter how hard you tried to wipe your tears. They didn’t seem to stop. Akaashi came to sit beside you. He furrowed his brows before putting an arm around your back.

Atsumu was a stupid star and you hated him. You hated loving him and you hated yourself for never saying anything. You hated your unrequited feelings. You hate his light. You hated his stupid smile and his stupid hair. You hated when he made you feel like he cared. You hated the times spent with him that made you stay. You loved that stupid star and you would never get to keep that star that you desperately wanted. Pathetic, that's what you were. You are completely hopeless and pathetic while crying in his apartment over him.

Akaashi wasn’t sure what was exactly wrong but he stayed with you while you cried. He motioned the others to leave. Sakusa and Suna quickly left the living room. He hesitated to speak, “Ko, go get me some water for them”. Bokuto nodded and ran. They were determined to help you. “You don’t have to talk if you don’t want to, but if you want me to take you home, I can.” You sniffled as you looked at the man who was struggling to comfort you. You nodded your head and your voice trembled. “I’m okay... Thank you, Keiji. I’m sorry to cry. I just have a lot on my mind,” you mumbled.

He shook his head while he listened. “Don’t apologize for your feelings. We’re all here for you. Finish calming down and we can talk.” He said as he rubbed your back. "You're safe with me, okay?" The comfort you missed desperately from a friend made your heartache. You leaned against him before sighing shakily. He held you like he meant it. You hadn’t felt so cared about in a long time, making you weak. His compassion made you feel better about being alone. Akaashi Keiji was different. He wasn’t your star either but his short timing of comfort and reassurance was more than what Atsumu did for you in almost a year. If Atumu wanted to be better, even as a friend. He would have done it.

"Do you get something to eat before you take me home? I could use the company of a friend right now." With no hesitation, Keiji smiled softly and nodded. Regardless of what was happening, he was happy you let him stay with you.

The number of people in the kitchen was becoming overwhelming when Bokuto burst in, yelling that he needed a cold water bottle. The disturbance caused some of them to argue. Atsumu was clinging to his partner’s waist. He laughed at the entertaining group bickering. Osamu raised a brow, “Where’s Keiji and Y/n?” Sakusa huffed in defeat and he motioned with his head. “In the living room. They needed a minute.”

This got Atsumu’s attention. “Oh? I didn’t know Keiji had a thing for them?” He asked for confirmation. “They better not be making out on my couch.” He said in annoyance. It could work between you and Akaashi… But you would have told your best friend first. You’d tell him before you picked someone to be with. Especially if it was someone in your friend group.

Bokuto shook his head. “Nah Uh, they started crying and he wanted to stay with them.” He took the water bottle into the living room.

Atsumu’s smile dropped. You were crying..? And you didn’t go to him first..? He followed Bokuto out of the kitchen quickly. He hated seeing you sad. It was one thing if he could avoid you behind a screen but not in person. Akaashi was hugging you. You looked so sad… Your eyes were red and puffy from crying. Small hiccups and deep breaths could be heard from you. It hurt to see you so upset and the guilt of not being there for once got to him. It dawned on him how he hadn't comforted you in a long time. Sure, you'd ask for his company or time. But you were capable of handling yourself. He had someone he needed to be there for, already. You would always wait for him anyway. He still cared but. It was unavoidable to brush off your cries now.

He watched as Bokuto and Akaashi soothed you. He stood there for a while. Just watching you. They kept you distracted and talked. They even managed to get a laugh out of you. Maybe it was the lighting, his guilt, or maybe the distance between you two made his heart fonder towards you. But your appearance and your energy captivated him. Your laugh made him feel nostalgic. It had been so long since he heard it. It triggered something inside of him. It was familiar and comforting. He always loved your laugh. It always made him laugh too. Atsumu was blinded by a familiar light then. A bright and cool light.

Y/n shined softly as a star at the beginning of the friendship. Atsumu forgot about your starlight the closer you two got. He stopped noticing your light a long time ago. Until now, he never took the time to notice it. He spent so long outshining you that he had forgotten what drew him to you in the first place. He admired your personality and how easily you adjusted to others. You got along with anyone if you wanted to. You were a kind and inviting star. Sure, anyone could be special. But you were you. You showed him throughout your friendship that you adored him. At this moment, it reminded him how often he’d look at you as a boost for himself. You had such a comforting light. You weren’t a big star like him. But you were a close star to him and he appreciated you. (In his own ways. Albeit unhealthy but still appreciated.) You were always reachable. You were always reliable. You were always there for him. Seeing you shine bright at the moment made him rethink if he overlooked your star for too long. He wanted to change that and be there for his best friend.

He smiled to see your attitude shift into your old happy self. You interacted with them effortlessly. Despite crying, you were more lively than before. Bokuto noticed him watching and he called him over. Atsumu didn’t anticipate for you to look at him and be disappointed?? It was a blow to his ego for you to make such a face. What did he do?! You always smiled at him like he was the best thing in the world. Where was that smile?? He furrowed his brows with a grin. “Everything okay over here? I heard you were crying. Do you wanna talk?”

“No, I’m good.”

“Oh..” He stood there dumbfounded. “Are you sure? You know I’m always here for you.” He watched as you nodded. Your body was still leaning against Akaashi. It didn’t bother him but he could’ve helped you too..! He wanted to be there for you but you said no...

“I think I’m going to head home. I’m just too tired. But we can catch up later, okay?” You said as you stood up from the couch. “Tell everyone I said bye,” you said with a smile.

Atsumu shook his head to refocus himself. “I’ll drive you then.” He said while he scrambled to get his shoes by the front door.

“Actually, Keiji is going to drive me home. So you don’t have to, Atsumu.” Your words made him drop his shoes on the floor. You never declined his company before. “Have fun and enjoy your night. Thanks for inviting me.” You said as you put your shoes in front of him. “I’m okay, so you can tell your partner that they don’t have to worry about you giving me any time.” He didn’t understand the change. What happened while he was gone?? Akaashi opened the door for you and he walked with you out.

Atsumu watched you walk away with Akaashi. Keiji looked back but you never did. If he finally was seeing your beautiful and bright light again. So why were you leaving him in the dark?

Sakusa and ---- came up behind him. “Are you gonna close the door?” One of them asked, but he didn’t move. He never felt so dismissed by you. Anyone else, he wouldn’t have cared but it was you. Sakusa remembered this scene. It was you staring longing at Atsumu at the game, almost a year ago. He felt pity for you and him. But it wasn’t his job to point out the problem. If you never said anything, Sakusa wouldn’t either. He leaned close to Atsumu’s ear. “I think you fucked up.” He whispered. He stepped away from him to make room for his partner.

Atsumu’s partner waved goodbye to you and Akaashi. “Babe, we have to close the door. The cool air will get out.” They giggled before kissing his cheek. They closed the door and Atsumu didn’t move from his spot. He stared at the shut door for a moment. “Babe? Atsumu? Hello? Are you okay? Baby talk to me?” His partner called out to him in a concerned tone but their voice was drowned out due to his realization. He missed his star.

Atsumu sat on the couch and was quiet for the rest of the night. He felt abandoned..? Hurt..? He was just being sensitive but... You made him feel unwanted. Everyone left and said goodbyes. Akaashi never came back that night. He stayed with you. At least that's what he heard from Bokuto. "Keiji said y/n is okay. He's probably gonna stay overnight to be sure they're okay." When was the last time you asked him to stay over for the night? His partner was upset by his depressed state. He mentally clocked out. He checked his phone constantly and after getting nothing from you for hours, he messaged you.

“Hey, I hope you’re okay, bestie. Just know that I love you and I’m here for you.” He typed out before typing again. “Call me in the morning, okay? I miss you ⭐️”

He never shot up so quickly when he heard his phone go off.

“Okay, good night, bestie. :)”

Despite getting a response, he felt worse than he did when he was waiting for you to reach out first. He even used the star emoji, which you would always use for him. Sure, the message was positive but it wasn't normal. You never said that you loved him back once.

Your light was starting to drift from his life. That’s the thing about stars. Stars die off but their light is shown afterward. At first glance, it’ll seem like things didn’t change. But you were already a fading star before he even had a chance.

#haikyuu #haikyuu angst #atsumu angst #atsumu x gender neutral reader #atsumu x y/n #atsumu x reader #atsumu x you #miya atsumu #my fics #miya osamu #suna rintarou #bokuto kotaro #sakusa kiyoomi #hinata shoyo #akaashi keiji #mentions of other haikyuu characters #gender neutral reader

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sammiesonyourleft · 5 months

Text

city lights - p.p.

pairing: peter parker x black best friend f!reader

summary: your best friend finds you in a strange place mourning your failed relationship

notes: dedicated to everyone who had a bad situationship) (dis my own canon)

word count: 906

"Y/N?"

"Oh hi, Peter," You say pausing your music, sitting up from your position.

"Don’t just ‘hI pEtEr’ me? What’re you doing up here dude? It's so late!"

"I needed to breathe. I hope you don't mind. What're you doing here?"

"This is where I come when I take breaks from night patrol. Is everything alright?"

Taking a deep breath in, "No Pete, they're not."

Y'all sit in uncomfortable silence before he asks "Do ya wanna talk about it?"

"I loved him but it wasn’t worth the heartache ya know. I lost myself trying to be what he wanted. I changed so much, and not to say those changes were bad… I made some pretty healthy ones. they were just for him. I adapted so that he’d be more comfortable… so he’d love me back… I realized that it was hella wrong. I shouldn’t be hiding parts of myself because he’s uncomfortable. I shouldn’t have to hold my tongue because he doesn’t like my response. I've spent many nights crying over the fact that he didn’t want to be with me and that I was trying to force something that was not there in the first place. I just wanted to see if he’d come around, ya know. that wasn’t my first mistake. my first mistake was not leaving when he told me he didn’t want a relationship when I told him I had feelings for him. my second mistake was staying."

He opens his mouth in disbelief, pausing before deciding his next words, "But you couldn’t have known that, y/n."

Shaking your head, "Peter, when a guy knows he loves you, he loves you. And he means it. no ifs, and, or buts about it. He will do anything to make you happy and keep you happy. I would know… I’ve seen it before. My grandfather… has dementia. He still goes out and buys my grandma flowers every week. I knew. I just wanted to see if he felt the same. Turns out he didn’t, and I'm difficult to deal with, and “I do too much”. Serves me right though… I knew this rel— whatever this was — had an expiration date, no matter how long I pretended it didn’t. I wasted my time." Sighing dramatically, you lay back down, covering your eyes as you finally come to terms with your feelings.

Peter rushes to lie down next to you, "No, you didn’t; This was a learning experience for you. Sometimes we go through stuff that we don’t want to. but it teaches us for the next time. so now if some guy comes to you now, you have the chance to set boundaries and make sure you're being intentional with who you're spending your time with. And if he takes off running then he’s not the one. If he stays and gets to know you, the real you, not the one that dirtbag tried to make you into, he could be the one."

"But how do I know that it’s not gonna end up the same way again? I’ve been in so many talking stages. I'm tired of learning what to do and what not to do to keep a guy. that was the longest one. and this one hurt the most. we had so many plans together. and now they’re all gone. because of me."

"Absolutely not. Wrong. Not because of you. Because of him. He couldn’t see past everything that’s inside you. He only saw what he wanted to see. He waited until you were fragile enough for him to break you over and over again. He decided he wanted to flirt with you after you told him you had feelings. He’s the one who stayed after you said I love you. He got into your head and convinced you that you were crazy. when you’re not. He had so many opportunities to say “hey I’m sorry, I know what you want but we don’t want the same things, so I think it’s best if we go our separate ways.”

"But he told me he wasn’t ready. I should have just listened."

No. Absolutely not. I’ve seen the text messages. He told you that after y'all bared your hearts to one another. Did you forget where he said he loved you back? Because I don't! That was a big thing. Y/N, Im so sorry he played with your feelings for months. You deserve so much better than that. I’m happy he’s gone."

"Well now you sound like MJ."

"Yea she kind of gave me the run down of what happened, but I knew I needed to talk to you. I don't regret any of my actions."

"What'd you do? Web him up in an alley?

His eyes get wide, and he pops up really fast, "Well well well, we have school tomorrow, why don't we get going?

"Peter Parker, what did you do?"

"Imayhavewebbedhimupandlefthiminthealleynearhisapartmentbuilding."

"YOU DID WHAt???"

"I had to do something! He hurt my best friend! So I dragged him out his sleep and he's currently handing above the dumpster behind his apartment building."

You scream, "PETE! He's HANGING???"

"Yea... Please don't be mad. I can go take him down if you'd like." He looks genuinely scared when he says this.

You laugh, pulling him in for a hug, "Thanks Pete, you're the best friend anybody could ask for. Now let's go. We have pictures to take with a certain boy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

We be word vomiting. Please if you liked it this pic let me know. Any comments or advice will be greatly appreciated!

xo,

dai :)

#peter parker #spiderman #x black reader #x black fem reader #best friends #tom holland #tom holland spiderman

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apollo-cackling · 6 months

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[You often see it claimed that] season 6 is pessimistic and I actually don't agree. It's heavy, harsh, and dark, but I believe at the end of the day that this is actually one of the most optimistic seasons the show has ever produced, which is why I want to close this discussion off by focusing a bit on the show's tone. It gets dark, [and] if you were put off by these darker tones and themes, I can't say I blame you, but in a way I think that's why the season works so well. Contrary to escapist or comfort media, which offers an easy refuge from real life struggles, season 6 embraces conflict and human imperfection. There's nothing inherently wrong with wanting your art to be comforting, of course, [...] but at least in my opinion, a lot of what bills itself as escapist comfort media does so because it asks us to specifically look away from life's problems. #notallescapism obviously, but there's this sentiment that's gained traction lately which posits that the creation and consumption of such media is almost a form of resistance itself, and I'm not personally fond of that. Being cozy or wholesome or whatever becomes almost a moral prescription. I know creators whose work has been categorized that way who hate it for that same reason. Jay Dragon, designer of the amazing ttrpg Wanderhome (you really should check it out) has talked about how their work being labelled as wholesome can not only often imply a sort of derision toward works that focus on pain, but can also create limiting expectations for their art. And indeed, I've increasingly seen works that like to categorize themselves as cozy or hopepunk not just as a way of self-labelling but as an implied condemnation of uncomfortable or darker fiction. There's this pervasive implication that focusing on darkness, [and/or] not using fiction as a way to envision a better world is in some way contributing to harm. It suggests that there's this inherent virtue in optimism and depicting coziness that surpasses all else. That's not to say critics of Buffy season 6 should be painted under this light, of course — not at all — but I do think season 6 is an excellent response to it. Season 6 confronts this ideology head on by presenting a narrative steeped in realism and darker themes. It doesn't just offer escape or easy answers, it challenges the viewer by illustrating the complexities of life with a starkness that's often uncomfortable. And at the end of the day, despite all the pain and tears it gives us what I think is actually an incredibly hopeful message: life is still worth living. I haven't dealt with the exact same things Buffy has — I didn't die and come back to life twice (it was just the one time for me) — but I have been in those times where nothing seems to be going right where I just watch my bank account go down and wonder if I'll have enough to make it through it all. I've dealt with struggling with my mental health in a way I don't feel like I can approach others with, even the people I love the most, out of fear for how they'll feel. I've engaged in self-destructive behavior to give myself a temporary boost in feeling, or just to feel it. All these are all things that I and probably a lot of you have been through, and it sucks and we all know it sucks, but here in Buffy there's catharsis, something that tells me life is hard: sometimes you will struggle with depression, you will struggle with money, your friends will be imperfect support systems, but life is still worth it. It resonates far more with me than something that tells me life is always awesome, and your friends are always going to be awesome and perfect, and so you should be happy with life. I know that isn't always true. If you're going to tell me to smile, I need to know you see me first. Season 6 sees me first. Dawn and Buffy pull each other out of their grave, Xander pulls Willow from the brink. It will be dark. We are still human. We should still live.

so I finally got around to watching the new sarah z video. it's. good.

#my rambles #youtube #quotes #also unrelated but they seem to have relaxed/loosened up a lot ever since they stopped using their main blog and I'm happy for them #their videos were always great but now they're hedging a lot less and being a lot more expressive and #idk I'm happy for them #...they probably won't see this but if they do uh. hey I love your videos sorry for being parasocial

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thedamageofherdays · 2 years

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Let's talk about boundaries & fandom & struggles

I want to start this post by adding a disclaimer. This is focused on my experiences with fandom and might not be true for everyone. I can only ever speak for myself but wanted to share this because a) I have some boundaries I clearly need to set and b) I hope it helps others who struggle too.

I love fandom. Sometimes I also hate fandom. I feel lost in fandom, especially recently. I often feel like I don't fit in in society, in the regular real-life spaces I occupy. And I'm starting to feel more and more like I don't fit in in fandom spaces anymore either. Which makes me wonder where the hell does someone like me go then?

So I want to open up a little about why I feel like I no longer fit in this space before I talk about some other issues I've been experiencing in fandom. Some of the reasons why I don't fit in or think I don't are the same things I experience in real life. I don't drink and will not drink ever again (and seeing a lot of things about alcohol is a struggle for me, especially when I am at a low and I don't want to relapse), I don't see many people, I struggle with conversations, I'm asexual, and talking about sex too much makes me very uncomfortable, and sometimes seeing too many of those things (convos, gifs, etcetera) makes me feel genuinely terrible. I generally don't "thirst" after people. I generally feel very awkward or like I am trying too hard. I struggle with jokes and with realizing when people are being genuine or not. Being queer and religious makes me feel incredibly lonely and like I can't ever fully fit in with both aspects. And please know that none of this is meant to be an attack on people. If you do things I don't or if you like things I don't, that's more than okay. You should live the life that's best for you. I'm just saying I often feel like I can't (fully) participate in conversations and that makes me feel lonely and left out. And I don't expect others to fix this for me or to change who they are. Never. But it does make me wonder where there is a space for me? Where do I belong? I used to feel like I belonged in fandom but now I even feel left out here.

And adding to that are some general issues I have been seeing and experiencing. People talking behind each other's backs, cliques who only talk to their friends or people shipping the "right" ship in the "right" way, the same people constantly getting ignored. I see bigotry in fandom and people having "token" friends who they are happy to use as a shield from any and all criticism. I see people being mean and cruel on purpose. I see people disrespecting boundaries. I see people being disrespectful in general. There are too many pile-ons and call-outs over things that could have been ignored or handled privately, yet when something big happens the same people who will happily pile on others suddenly don't say a word. A lot of things feel very performative. Oh, I will say x because people expect me to say x and they will yell if I don t. There are people who like to act like they are better than others and who act like they are the only ones who can dictate what fandom should be like and what people should do, think, and enjoy. And all of this feels very toxic to me. And I don't think I am the only one who struggles with this, given the dozens of asks I received about the subject.

This brings me to the next part, though. Lately I've been feeling like a lot of people have been coming to me to vent or for support and I do genuinely appreciate people's trust in me. I love helping people. I would not have opted for the degree I am pursuing if I didn't. But it has gotten to the point where I cannot handle it. I got over a hundred asks, all about the issues within fandom. Sometimes about specific things specific people did to them. I've engaged with these asks until I literally couldn't. I am burned out. It has made me feel even less safe and happy in fandom. Especially because I am the person people are messaging with (anon) hate. And especially because it feels like the focus on my blog started to become only that. I've been struggling with feeling... underappreciated. Some people stopped interacting with me (as much) when I stopped doing reading logs. When I do post reading logs or recs I get complaints. And I get that people want interaction with their writing and art. But I can't fix that for you. I am in the same boat as you. I had a few arts and fics do well but often I am lucky if something gets above 100 kudos, often enough it doesn't reach that at all. I get your frustration, I do. But again, I cannot fix something I am experiencing myself.

There have been some truly kind and amazing people on here. Total sweethearts who reached out to me and people who are consistently supportive and incredible. None of this is about them. But in some cases I feel like people only care about what I can do for them and that's a terrible way to feel. Lately I haven't felt like I am truly a part of this community. It feels like I am only there to be a machine for people to do the things they want. And I cannot go through life feeling like that. Real life is hard enough. I am barely coping as is. I don't want to add anymore stress to that.

So please. I am asking you to respect this boundary: remember that I am a human being with feelings and my own personal struggles. I cannot fix everything for people. When you say cruel things to me it hurts me. It makes me not want to be here anymore. And I also cannot constantly produce content. I am tired. And I wish I had more answers but I don't. So before you ask me things, think about your words and think about the impact they may have on the person on the other side of the screen. You don't have to like me but either unfollow me or respect me in my own space. And respect others in online spaces too. This is meant to be fun, this is meant to be a hobby. Don't ruin that for me or anyone else.

#rrambles

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circus-and-shenanigans · 7 days

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✵Info!✵

✧About the mun:✧

-Hello! You can call me Eli (she/her), nice to meet you!

-I'm 26+ so I would appreciate if people wanting to rp were 18+ as well.

-English is not my first language, so please bear with me if something sounds wrong/weird. My time zone is GMT+2.

-Lately I've been having some time between hands, so I might reply more than once a day.

-Feel free to message me for plot ideas or just general chatting, I don't bite and I enjoy talking about characters and the series!

✧About the writing/rp:✧

-I suck at making things look pretty and aesthetic in posts, so I hope that isn't a deal breaker :')

-I'm mostly on my phone answering things* and It's been around 10 years now since I last used Tumblr, so when it comes to cropping posts--- I'm SO sorry if they take up too much space anywhere, I'll try to figure it out in time!

-* regarding that bit about my phone, I also apologize in advance if some badly written words worm their way into my replies-- I definitely should proofread more.

-Oc, multi-muse, au and multiverse friendly.

-Multiship account! So yes, shipping with my characters is ok!

-I prefer 3rd person, literate, multi-para replies, the quantity won't bother me as long as I have something nice to reply to. You aren't obligated to match the length of my replies, don't worry!

-Heavy topics might get mentioned here and there through my writing/character, so if that's something you find uncomfortable and you don't like, let me know in advance. Said heavy topics are mentioned in the oc's page. I'll also make sure to tag them appropriately.

-Canons I play are Buggy and Penguin, this is the page dedicated for them where I'll add small headcanons from time to time.

-I feel like any and all kinds of scenarios are pretty much welcomed, meaning nsfw and sexual topics are on the table as well as others, like gore and violence. I'm ok with practically anything being done to my character, so don't worry about being too much.

-Muse doesn't equal mun, even tho it's obvious, I just wanted to get it writen down, just in case.

-The connections to canon characters can be revised for the sake of your comfort and the rp if you aren't ok with my oc previously knowing them/having a past with them. Same can be said about my canons, I'll assume certain connections are pre-stablished by the series' plot. Either way, everything can be worked around!

-I suck at tagging reblogged stuff, so if you are searching for specifics it'll get a bit messy--

-I'm not good at fight rps, so I might stay away from those.

-There's never a rush to reply to my stuff in the same way I expect to not be rushed to reply things, this is something for fun, not some sort of job!

#ringleader speaks// ooc #rules

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unfocused-internet-guy · 1 month

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Good Morn-After-Evening, I am an Unfocused Internet Guy, If you want to refer to me you can call me the U-F-I Guy. Speaking of I do use He/Him pronouns, but no sweat if you misgender me from not knowing me.

Since a lot of my interests are aimed at a younger demographic I should mention that I am an adult. If that fact makes you feel uncomfortable you have every right to block me here.

I also have dark humor and might make nsfw jokes. Though, I really do not like combining that with my interests in children's properties. But if that still makes you uncomfortable then you can block me as you wish.

Enjoyed media & Interests, DNI, and additional rules down here

I'm seperating these into categories for my sake. Some interests may be added down the line as I remember or gain new interests. Those that are colored the same as their categories are those I am more active in and are personal favorites.

Games:

Plants Vs Zombies: I've loved this series since I was very little, It might have been my first ever hyperfixation. Despite it's crashing and burning state currently I still enjoy every entry in the series, yes, that includes "that one"

Bloons Tower Defense 6: While all of the bloons games are a fun time I do like this one more for how much time comparatively i've spent on it. Also it has more interesting characters for me to care about from my perspective.

Brawlhalla: A fun fighting game I like to play with friends and online that has a roster of interesting characters to boot.

Rivals of Aether: Anothe plat form fighting game I enjoy, see above.

Pokemon: I'm 90% sure this is the first ever game I played so it holds a special place in my heart.

Skylanders: A fun toys to life gimmick game that may have bruised my parent's wallets when I was young, is still a game I like and has characters and character designs I appreciate.

Undertale: I think the story and gameplay are neat, especially since some of my fondest moments with my cousin were on this game.

Terraria: Aside from seeming like 2d minecraft this game is really fun and has some great characters that I get attached to If I keep them alive long enough.

Shows & Movies:

Team Umizoomi: Seems silly but I all-in-all just love overthinking about this basic kids show and the potential of the implications it has. Plus I find the characters very charming.

Ben 10: While I don't avidly watch this show (Although that point could be made to all of these shows) my nostalgia still creeps in sometimes and possesses me to gush about this.

Death Battle: Technically it is a show, even if a web series. I like overthinking things in media and I like fight scenes and i've been loving this series since I was little. (Hoping it doesn't die with roosterteeth) I'd only recommend watching it if you can tolerate seeing characters you care about die cause it can be rough.

Lilo & Stitch: I don't have much to say other than I love the message and I love the energy Stitch gives off.

Wall-E: As someone who genuinely has a hard time caring about romance this movie got me to care about romance, as a young child. I also just love how the robot characters act and are developed.

DNI:

The Owl House: I might've been late to the party but I loved the show and like usual I enjoyed the main protaganist the most.

Wordgirl: An edutainment cartoon that treats itself like it's own self contain show, what's not to like?

Super Why: I liked this show a lot more than most other shows here when I wad younger, I was also caught off guard learning that they got a new short series recently. I still find the show silly and edearing nowadays.

Wild Kratts: It's edutainment Ben 10 but with real world animals, do I need to explain?

If you are a Pedo, Get out. If you are a Zoophile, Get out. If you support or engage in Incest, Get out. If you are attracted to minors or minor appearing person (MAPs Lolicons) Get the fuck out.

NSFW beyond a simple sex joke or implied sex joke, I really loathe that crap.

People who just don't respect others like transphobes, and homophobes.

People who use AI to make "art" and pass it off as their own.

People who just say hurtful and hateful things without provocation.

Rules (Will likely be updated when needed):

1) Just be nice and respectful please, it's a common courtesy.

2) I literally have no intent to show political views and agendas here or reblog anything politically charged, I come here to reblog cool and funny stuff, gush about my interests, and post silly art. So please don't ask for it.

3) Don't do anything that'll make me add anything to the DNI list

4) I 100% will make mistakes so please keep that in mind, and don't be afraid to ask or directly message me about something.

5) I will never block on a first offense for you doing something I don't appreciate (Unless it's horrifically bad) and will just ask you to stop. If it continues I will not hesitate to block.

6) Read, it's an easy way to avoid misunderstandings.

7) Common sense is a virtue, use it.

#important #blog rules #introduction #pinned info

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peachesnabsinthe · 1 year

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**Tw/cw for suicidal ideation, dissociative episodes and chronic illness, please scroll past if these topics make you uncomfortable**

I'm having one of those days where being alive is just exhausting. I've been feeling very disconnected from everything and everyone lately (even my partner/best friend which is heartbreaking). Maybe it's just how my grief is progressing. I've been struggling with a lot of guilt. I tiptoe around the house even when I'm home alone. I'm waiting for someone to tell me how much of a piece of shit I am, how I can never do or be enough, how I'm lazy or a brat, selfish, and infant-like.

Everyone keeps telling me to stop focusing on money and chores and just focus on my health. But my current healthcare team never responds to my messages. Some days I can barely clean or walk the dog, which makes me hate how my body looks and feels even more. I'm too scared to eat most of the time, and when I do I feel terrible (mentally? Disordered eating just makes everything worse doesn't it). I do the same thing everyday, I'm no longer inspired to do anything, and I've completely lost my softness. I'm tired of everyone's facial expressions changing when I tell them the truth. You asked how I feel, why the fuck would I lie about that? "Oh gee, yea I feel SO great. My physical health makes me feel like an 80 year old woman and my brain is wired for constant threats and danger even if it's not real. I look forward to the day when humans finally kill each other off, and look! The news! Omg I LoVe all the things happening in the world right now, especially with healthcare and all the struggles everyone is dealing with (unless you're rich, straight and white) and how children can't even go to school without worrying about their brains being blown out. By the way, how's your dog Lisa???" \⁠(⁠๑⁠╹⁠◡⁠╹⁠๑⁠)⁠ﾉ⁠♬

I was told that I've been coming off as more "aggressive" lately. And yea. I'm angry. I'm frustrated. And I'm exhausted. And I think a bit lost. I genuinely have nothing to lose. I was a misanthrope before, why would that fucking change if I'm not able to work anymore??? Because I get to stay home and be a cute little s1ck Grrl???

A major part of me wishes that I didn't have a support system. Because I would have chosen a long time ago to die, but I would hate to disappoint them. And I know that it's mostly just my sick brain trying to get myself to self-sabatoge but damn.

#tw suicidal ideation #cw chronic illness #personal #online journal #digital diary #journal #personal post #diaryposting

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elinorwritesstuff · 1 year

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I know that I already said this.. But I need to stop with long messages.

I don't want you to think I'm making excuses about the type of person I am. So I'll try explaining things about myself. I'm autistic. Like you've mentioned Death Note as one of your favorite series. So just combine the personalities of L and Near into one person, that's kinda who I am in many ways. And I'm definitely not just saying that because they are some of the most popular characters in the series.. Their mannerisms are basically my mannerisms if that helps explain a few things. So I've always had this repetitive behavior that made people uncomfortable, always had obsessive fixations over my hobbies that would also make people uncomfortable. So being repetitive, being obsessive, that may be more my anxiety than it is for other people. And, because of how a lot of my personality is, I'm actually used to being isolated from other people. Not many people can tolerate the type of person I am when it comes to how I express myself so I usually just keep to myself now.

And I actually have multiple disabilities... Asperger's Syndrome is only one of many others. But I really don't think I need to get into that.

If it also helps explain some things, that's why I'm also verbose when I have conversations with people. At least when it comes to things that I would have in interest in. Which isn't really that often. Normally I'm a quiet person who stays to themselves. Introvert may be a better term though. So I'm just not always this communicative with other people.

(L and Near are just examples to explain this better to people.)

Anyway.

Back to what we were talking about before.

My fixations are borderline obsessive to other people. Like.. This year, every month this year is releasing new anime and manga. From a new season or even movie from anime, new chapters for manga, so lots of new things are happening every day for me. So.. I've been reemerging myself into these fandoms all over again lately, since this year began.

So my fixations are really into overdrive at the moment.

Personally, for me, I've never really thought of actually writing stories with crossover themes. And.. like you said... Sometimes I would be so curious to know how certain characters would be in other fandoms or even how those characters would act and react in other situations.

But there are these fandoms.. And these fandoms are very similar, yet so completely different at the same time. That I really could easily see those fandoms blended together in some way. Worst case scenario.. I could use my characters into a story just specifically for that fandom. Not stealing someone's character! I don't want you to think that. But I tend to get inspiration from people, characters, and other things that helps me create my own characters. Appearance, personality, or even mannerisms. Shows, movies, music, games. Anything inspires that. But what I was trying to say is the worst case scenario, if I don't write the crossover story, is using any of my characters that may have a lot of similarities of characters of the one fandom but write them for that specific fandom rather than crossover fandoms. That probably didn't make any sense. Maybe I'm just overly thinking about that too much.

Normally I'm more into anime than manga. But, same as you, I'm also into manga if the manga is farther in plot than the anime for reasons.. And also because there are times when the anime version and manga version might have major differences. So sometimes I'll read manga. Maybe not as often as I should though.

I've never heard of Visions Of V. At least I don't think so.

When creating original characters.. I know people have their own way of inspiration for how they create their original characters. Inspiration could be real people, fictional characters, shows, movies, music, even games. Sometimes if I use a real people as a face claim for characters (especially for animanga), it's because I think, "Who could I see as this character in a live adaption?" Sometimes that works. But not always.

And this is why I need to stop writing long messages.

Oh wow sorry it took my like a century to answer this. I was half on a writing binge and half I got a NEW VIDEO GAME, lol. But yeah, my default is to just be super encouraging when it comes to people asking me stuff about writing, but I'm not on the spectrum, so like, I don't want to minimize what you deal with by just being all "yeah, go for it!" (And I get what you mean about L and Near just being super autistic coded.)

Disability high-five though, I have so much complex PTSD. (It's not a secret, I write about it in the notes to my fics periodically. And I definitely write a lot of stuff about trauma and characters (OC and canon)). But anyhow.

Yeah, character inspiration can come from so many places. Sometimes I really have a character in my head before I start writing, and sometimes I just have the broad strokes and things get filled in as I go. One of my very first OCs was just inspired by a cool drawing I saw in Seventeen magazine when I was thirteen or fourteen years old.

Visions of V! It's so good; unfortunately you can only get it in scanlation, but it's not hard to find on a google search. (Sometimes I feel guilty about reading scanlations, but I only do it when the manga is just 100% not available in English.) Basically it tells the story of DMC5 from V's POV, all the way from when Vergil splits himself to when V reunites with Urizen. If you're interested in V as a character it's really cool, and you can kind of see how he transitions from being Vergil in a different body to being V as a separate being. And it also has stuff from Vergil's past (because he shares it with V) that gives a lot of insight into what he's gone through. And also the art is amazing.

But anyhow anyhow.

How has your writing going? Are you still planning and making notes? Honestly my current fic has required a lot more outlining than the last couple and I'm really trying to be patient with it because as I've said, my process is very much Just Write It.

Still don't mind the long messages.

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jamesandmatthew · 1 year

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PART 2, chapter 2.

Matthew was feeling terrible. Worse than usual.

He had no money, he was too sad to spend time with the people he knew and he hated his housemate.

But the rent was cheap and the bills were the same amount each month so there weren't any surprise expenses. He just had to put up with it. There was no way he could afford to move anywhere else anyway.

His medication didn't seem to be working much lately and he spent most of his time hiding in his room in bed.

Jerking guys off or going to the library or book shops to read seemed to be the only things on his calendar outside his bedroom lately.

Between messages asking for sex, he got a message from a fellow sub asking if they could hang out.

Matthew wasn't sure about it and left it on read for two weeks until he realised he had no sub friends and thought that maybe having someone to chat about activities would be good. He was feeling alienated.

He agreed to meet him for a coffee.

Oscar was a perky cheerful bisexual guy around his age who had a job so he happily paid for their coffees, which Matthew was very grateful for.

By the end of it Matthew wanted to see him again. They had a lot in common.

The next meeting they got drunk together and Matthew invited him home after last drinks.

Matthew closed his bedroom door and Oscar was immediately against him leaning him up against the door kissing him hungrily.

Matthew turned his face away.

"Sorry," Matthew mumbled.

Oscar backed away.

"Shit I thought you wanted…"

"It's ok. It's just… not my thing…I don't…kiss people unless…but I'll happily suck your cock!"

Oscar looked questioningly at him as Matthew went to the bed.

"I like kissing," Oscar told him.

Matthew looked away, uncomfortable.

"Do you want your cock sucked?" Matthew asked.

"...yes."

Matthew patted the bed.

"Then get in!"

Oscar scrambled to get into bed.

"Can I.. .touch you? Do you like being touched?"

Matthew gave him a confused look.

"You know…genitals...and chest?"

"You are very sweet for asking. Yes. More than welcome to touch my genitals."

"... and what do you call it? Like I know some trans guys have different words for it. I don't want to say the wrong word and upset you."

"..oh. You can call it my cock. I don't have a word for…"

"Can I touch your cock?...and inside?"

"Yep. Yes please. And my chest? Yes."

"Excellent. I've been with a guy that didnt want either part touched so I wanted to check with you incase we start...you know. I don't want to make you uncomfortable at all."

Matthew kissed his cheek.

"You are very sweet. Thank you for asking."

Oscar and Matthew talked all night about their lives. Their situations and shared sub horror stories and embarrassing moments.

They made each other laugh.

By the end Matthew felt he was smitten with Oscar. He was very sweet, gentle and kind and he trusted him. He was so glad he made a friend.

He was glad Oscar had refused full sex when offered. Matthew just wanted to take advantage of meeting someone he liked incase he didn't see him again. Matthew had given him a blow job though and afterwards Oscar stayed to chat.

He was relieved he didn't flee afterwards and was more interested in chatting and the blow job didn't change the friendliness. Oscar seemed to genuinely want to spend time with him. It lightened his head a little.

"My housemate chucked out a few slices of pizza in the bin last week," Matthew told him, covering his face. "I saw the box in the bin and I went to put it in the recycling and saw the pizza in it and I… oh god… I ate them!"

Oscar started laughing. "That's so gross!"

"I was starving! Starving!"

"You'd never get me so hungry to eat bin pizza!"

Matthew started laughing. "I ate bin pizza!"

Matthew laid down still laughing. "It did hurt my stomach a lot afterwards."

"I bet."

Oscar laid down on his side next to him.

"You do gross things to eat."

"Yeah…yeah I do. I think the best one was pissing on someone for a pub meal."

"Eeewww!"

"Not ewww. He was lovely. He just wanted to drink piss. That's easy. I'd happy piss on people for food. It's so easy. Drink a lot of pints, and I mean a lot of pints, get drunk, piss on them. Easy. I'd prefer doing that. So much better than wanking someone or gobbies. Or sex."

"...what's the worst thing you've done?"

"I think the worst one was I let a guy finger me for a packet of cigarettes," Matthew told him glumly.

"In a restaurant?"

"No, in an alley. I was broke and I really wanted a cigarette. I was so miserable and so broke. I thought why not let him do that. I let him choke me too because I just ...wanted something. Weirdly to feel alive. Choking to feel alive!"

Oscar's eyes went wide as he listened.

"A stranger in a dark alley," Matthew continued. "What the fuck was I doing? Dangerous, dangerous shit. For some cigarettes!"

Oscar took his hand.

"Was that the only time?"

Matthew was silent for a moment.

"No."

"People do weird things when they're miserable."

Matthew nodded. "I certainly do."

"Is that….is that why you like being… a sub?" Oscar hesitated to ask.

"No. No no no. God no. All that makes me happy. That's the good sexual stuff. That makes me feel so happy afterwards. The other stuff just makes me feel worse. I'm now used to it, im not so stressed about it. But yeah...I feel weird afterwards. That was just to punish myself because I felt awful I think. I felt like nothing - and not in the stubby way. That's different. So different. That was just...bleak. I think i wanted to die? Everything felt terrible so I did terrible things to feel worse…I think."

Oscar grabbed him and hugged him.

Matthew let him and started sniffing.

A few days later Matthew received a delivery of foodstuffs, money and many packets of cigarettes. Pasta sauces, frozen vegetables, tins of fruits and vegetables , tins of kippers, stews and soups, prawn dumplings, sachets of curries, various noodles and pastas, meats, frozen prawns, milk, cheeses, cereals, pastries , chocolates and wine.

He was confused by it but the delivery person said his name and address was on it. The delivery had no name of who ordered and paid.

Matthew assumed it was Oscar. It had to be as last time he saw him he told him what he did for good meals, and how much he missed various foods, especially seafood.

He thanked Oscar but he acted confused. Oscar said he didn't order it.

Matthew assumed he was pretending, to avoid his gratitude.

Oscar told him he didn't mind about Matthew's body but didn't push for anything more. Matthew stopped offering him sexual favours.

They continued seeing each other enjoying each other's company and confiding in eachother.

Sometimes Oscar didn't return his calls for long periods of time, but came back apologising for it, and they were back to normal, spending time talking until early hours of the morning.

Matthew was happy to find someone that didn't demand anything from him and he didn't demand anything in return.

Things were going well with Oscar. He felt comfortable with him, and felt quite close to him.

He liked the way Oscar was so sweet and kind to him. To Matthew, he was adorable. He started to feel protective of him, like he was a little animal he had to sooth and look after.

He was attracted to him but felt it was wrong to push anything on Oscar.

Oscar liked cuddles and so Matthew slowly learned to like them too.

He started to slightly appreciate kisses a little more and started to understand the appeal a bit. He was aware of how strange it made him feel. He didn't like kissing, but his curiousity of them let Oscar kiss him. To him, kisses were permission and encouragement, but to Oscar they were displays of affection. Kisses didn't mean the thing to do during foreplay but were an act by themselves.

They felt more intimate than sex ever had. That frightened him and made him panic.

0 notes

titanstroia · 1 year

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Guidelines

This blog is typically set Pre-N52 however with discussion I am open to threads set in Rebirth and beyond.

Introduction. I’m Jet. Old bean. 25+. Any pronouns are fine. I slip up and use UK spelling sometimes. I've been RPing Donna for over a year. Tumblr IMs are always open to mutuals. Dis.cord is case by case basis. Donna defaults to mid-late 20s though I'm happy to write her older or younger.

General

This is a single muse indie blog (that follows back from batcowmaster), though I may have mains or exclusives with certain other blogs.

This blog is multi-ship

I will not under any circumstances accept racism, homophobia, transphobia, ableism, and so on. I also do not accept whitewashing muses. All in all – don’t be a dick, be respectful, treat others with kindness and understanding.

I don’t really check my tracked tag so it’s best to @ me in a post or message me with a link if that fails if you want me to see something.

This blog is fairly private, I don’t tend to follow first anymore and reserve the right to not follow back. If I don’t intend on following back I will probably soft-block. If I find your blog triggering for any reason I will hardblock. I will unfollow/block if something makes me uncomfortable or our writing styles don’t mesh. Please only follow if you’re 18+.

I only rp with mutuals so if I'm not following you back on batcowmaster we're not mutuals, if you send me an IC ask and we’re not mutuals I may block you. OOC asks are okay, especially if they’re development questions.

If there is no information on your blog I won’t be likely to follow back.

If you’re a personal blog (a non-rp blog) please do not reblog my posts.

I am pro-OC but am just as selective following them as anyone else – please have detailed information on your character.

I am duplicate friendly! If you’re a duplicate you’re welcome here. I am also likely to rp with multiple rpers of the same muse unless I am explicitly exclusive with a muse.

I am also crossover friendly! Though I may need to plot some to make the crossover happen.

Hate anons get deleted.

I tag triggering posts with ‘tw TRIGGER NAME’ e.g. ‘tw seizures’. If I’m not tagging something that you need tagged or my posts are slipping through and you need them tagged differently, please let me know.

OOC posts are typically tagged as such.

I’m not a meme source. Please reblog from the source.

Liking my musings and hcs and edits is okay, reblogging them is not.

Anything NS.FW is tagged NSFT. This blog will also have themes such as canon-typical violence, swearing, topics regarding poor mental health, domestic abuse, age gaps, death, torture, dissociation, and blood.

I am not comfortable with anything heavily NS.FW unless we as rp partners have been establishing a repertoire ooc. I will never smut on dash. It’s not my thing. Do not ask me to do so. I am happy to fade to black though.

Please be patient with me, I have a lot of health issues and my job! I also have memory issues due to my health so if I forget something please just let me know. I try to stay on top of things but life happens.

Most general comic book icons are made by me and they’re very time consuming. Please don’t steal them. However I also paid for and downloaded this pack of icons for Donna. And I downloaded icons from here, here and here. My writing on this blog does not represent the comic book company, their views, the opinions of the character in canon, any fc’s actions or opinions.

Plotting

I love developing deep and rich stories for my muses. Backstories, plotlines, development. Plotting is how I do best in RP. I tend to ask for it a lot if I want to cultivate a partnership with another RPer. Consider this me wanting to invest in our muses. If you never willing to engage in plotting I may unfollow as I find it really difficult to come up with starters and replies if we never plot. This is especially important if we have muses that have familial bonds or we are trying to ship.

Please do not assume our characters have met or have any form of relationship unless it is canon. And even then I’d like to plot what kind of relationship you’re interpreting from the canon.

Godmodding & Metagaming

I consider godmodding to be: controlling my character in threads (thoughts and actions), big plot moves made without consideration or consent, and drawing conclusions about my character that haven’t been discussed with me. I do not accept godmodding. Although, I will accept NPCs and actions that need to happen to move the thread along that don’t require you to wait for a response from me to push ahead (e.g. if your muse hands me a normal bottle of water you can assume my muse has taken a sip. If the bottle of water is poisoned, however, wait for a reply or check with me ooc). Big plot beats need to be discussed before moving ahead.

Metagaming is along the same veins as godmodding. Just because there are detailed bios and hcs don’t assume your character has intimate knowledge about mine. Please ask me and plot these things out. I am happy to do meta-asks like hcs or interview questions but if your muse didn’t send it IC it means they didn’t hear the answer IC. Dash Commentary is for the most part crack and unless plotted your muse does NOT have the dash commentary knowledge in serious canon.

I do accept interlacing. For me interlacing is when your character references my version of the muse in other threads. E.g. if my muse and yours went to the zoo in a thread, yours is free to talk about what happened in that thread to other characters.

Threads

I try and keep on top of my threads. I draft things if I can’t reply to them straight away and then will typically sort through those drafts later. If you think I’ve missed something please let me know, I love a good reminder and won’t consider it nagging. It only crosses my boundary it it’s consistent pestering. I typically tell partners if I’ve dropped something. I will keep drafts for sometimes even ten months if I’ve been busy and struggling. If I have too many replies for you and it’s overwhelming I’ll contact you to check if we should drop any.

Please cut your posts, I may stop following if posts are consistently uncut. Also, if turning an ask into a thread please move it from the ask into a new post. I use Beta and no longer use legacy.

I’m happy with anything from single para to novella/multi-para length replies. Single para can be small, I don’t mind, as long as it’s more then 2 lines. You do not have to match my length when responding but short replies consistently will kill my muse and lessen my likelihood of continuing something.

I tend to queue most of my replies just so I’m not hit with a bunch of return replies at once.

Memes and asks

While I love memes and asks and I so appreciate people sending things in there are a few times I’ll delete them, those include: I’m feeling overwhelmed with what’s in my inbox, I consistently have no muse for this ask, etc.

That being said, please don’t let that discourage you from sending things. This also goes for random, unprompted asks. I appreciate you making attempts at conversing with my character.

Shipping

Chemistry is important to me, both IC and OOC. And for me shipping is both a term used for platonic and romantic ships. Platonic ships are important – best friends, family, mentors, mentees, etc. There will be no instantaneous friendships or romantic relationships on this blog. With romance I am also not okay with massive age gaps.

I can be into dynamics where something is one sided, a crush, or doesn’t work out. As long as we discuss it beforehand.

I will not EVER write something sexual with underage muses or in verses where they’re underage, mine or yours. I am open to writing cutesy things with underage muses like crushes, first relationships, holding hands, first kisses provided both muses in the relationship are the same age. But this will never be sexual. I cannot begin to express how uncomfortable that makes me.

Any ask memes involving kissing or more personable actions I would prefer if they were only sent by characters already in an established relationship or checked in with me beforehand.

Courtesy

If I’m not responding to something: I’m busy with life stuff OR you’re ignoring my rules and giving me anxiety (usually non-mutuals). I promise if we’re mutuals I am not ignoring you on purpose, I’m just busy. Or! I saw it and meant to respond but it slipped my mind and got lost in the abyss that is my brain.

I don’t pay much attention to things on the dash. I’m too busy. You can always assume that if I’m not participating in something, I didn’t see it.

Triggers

My triggers are dissociation, multiple personalities, rape & SA, snakes & lizards (photos of). Flashing gifs trigger physical responses so I’d appreciate a warning. I also appreciate domestic abuse/child abuse being tagged in visual posts or thoughts/musings/hcs.

Unplayable

I RP with DID representation on a case by case basis. If you RP a character that has DID and I did not follow you back then that is why. Do not pressure me into RPing with them, it’s for my own wellbeing.

0 notes

westerlywhining · 2 years

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1. insecurity.

i feel small right now in this big world. i always assumed i'd be left out. my loved ones are starting to spread their wings. and though i have spread my wings three years ago, I've been here ever since and i did not budge.

my childhood home feels lonely now that my siblings are working and doing their own thing. they dont really come home that often.

i have a lover. who lives miles away. he has a job and it sometimes makes me feel lonely. the only time we ever talk is late at night and then we say bye at 9 PM. usually 10 if I am lucky.

i feel insecure lately. about other people's achievements. i've always wanted to leave home for some time now but i guess my sibling beat me up to it. i dont want leave my mom alone. but i also want to explore and spread my wings in the outside world.

i feel small, really. the bus ride to work is where i get the saddest. the bus ride reminds me how i could go further but then, i stop at the workplace and think, oh, this is where ive always been. i have not moved since. never upgraded since.

i feel lonely, a lot. and the only person i always talk to is busy now. my partner.

when i feel sad, he feels sleepy. and we dont have all night to talk about it. i dont directly go straight to the point with my problems. i feel like i am the least priority now because i know how to take care of myself. i feel sad and insecure at the same time.

i accidentally opened his messages. and i know it is bad of me to see what he is messaging other people. he offers a lot of support to other people. usually his relatives and friends. he's very open and supportive to them.

i should be happy, that my partner is doing his best to help other people, but there's always that dark lingering feeling inside my heart that i think he treats me same as he treats others.

he's available to other people. he tells his friends that they should go out somewhere, catch up and stuff. and i feel sad. that he gets to hang out with other people. he's a very sociable person.

i am not. i sometimes feel scorned with the presence of others. i am a cautious person. i tend to watch out what i say, and i get uncomfortable if i talk with friends for too long. i always want to go home.

its different for my partner. he loves to talk. he loves to socialize with people. he is available to anyone who needs his help and he's not shy to ask someone for help.

in that part, i feel insecure because i wanted him to rely on me and not on anyone. i feel like he's seeking attention from someone but that's just his nature. he's helpful. he always helps his peers.

maybe i am insecure because he has girl friends. he does have boy friends but i tend to focus on the girls.

i feel bad about having to see his messages and reading them. i feel bad about having to question his love for me when the only thing he's been doing is supporting me. and being thankful that i am there to support him.

i love him. but my thoughts really seep deep in to my head.

whenever he tells someone that he's going to listen when they have a problem, i feel jealous again. because if i share my problems, it sometimes turn into a fight because i blame him and i accuse him of things.

it should be done in a loving manner. pointing out wrongdoings of partner and how you both can correct it.

the distance made it harder.

i guess this is a reflection of how i am doing. i do not feel good. i am very sensitive. i cry at the littlest reasons.

i feel sorry for myself. i do. i sometimes think what it would be like to no just exist and the thought of death excites me cause then i wont be doing any earthly duties. i would be free from pain. from these thoughts.

i am very reliant. but i am also avoidant. i need help from others but i dont want to reach out. i want to feel that they really want to help or else i will feel a burden. or else i will feel that they are forced to help me just because. just because.

i am insecure. i portray myself prettily on social media. i post pretty photos. selfie shots. good memories. but behind it i am a mess.

i dont have friends. nor anyone who i can immediately go to. i live far away from them. i dont even go out. the only time i can go out is this. the school. and i feel very sad because i am here.

i am not feeling grateful. i wish i was in the city. i wish i lived closer to my boyfriend so then he could always come with me and i get to see him.

a lot of times, he invites his girl friends to go out with him because they live close and that's where i feel more sad. they get to see him immediately, whenever they can.

my boyfriend is open and honest about who he is with. he loves to go out. specially before, he exercises together with his boy neighbor. he really loves to socialize and i feel insecure.

because i dont. and i dont have anyone to hang out with except for him.

i feel insecure.

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natsunoomoi · 2 years

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Learned Something New About Trauma

Those who have read my blog before about posts I made that talk about Mukuro and her relationship with Hiei know that I haven't really liked her for the sole reason of the chapter with her birthday because Hiei says something insensitive she punches him in the stomach and sends him flying. It's something I thought was abuse and something that I didn't understand until this past weekend.

There are a lot of things about Mukuro that I find similar to myself somehow, which seems really ironic because a lot of the things that happened to me in my life that ended up shaping my personality to be more like hers didn't happen to me until after I was 10 years old and already liked Hiei. I wasn't abused by my father like she was exactly, but it can be argued I did experience some amount of sexual trauma because my Dad used to watch inappropriate media in front of me when I was young. When I was small I was curious, but as I got older it started to take a toll on me mentally about what it meant for my self-worth and my own sexuality. I did feel like my Dad regretted it and as I got older he started hiding that stuff from me more, but kind of just too late. In every other way, he was a completely supportive and loving father and a much better safe space than my Mom who was physically and emotionally abusive and exceedingly negative about everything and almost ranting and raving about how she wishes she had a better life or didn't marry my Dad or that I had a different father. I really resented it because I felt like my Mom lived with her head in the clouds in dreams that will never happen and didn't do right by me in reality. And even into today, sometimes still doesn't when she gets crazy ideas and starts messaging me in the middle of the night.

But even so, I grew slowly to like different aspects of Mukuro because of all that and because of experiencing other kinds of stalking and trauma by people around me and up until a huge sexual harassment issue 8 years ago. I moved away and moved to Japan since then and I thought I was okay and moved on until I learned that PTSD leaves you "gifts" in the future well past when the trauma happened. Those are "triggers". And like having experienced and been through one, I am absolutely horrified now that the word "trigger" is used SO CASUALLY by people online. YOU. DON'T. KNOW. WHAT. YOU'RE. TALKING. ABOUT. You are mildly uncomfortable and unhappy with something. You are not having a traumatic flashback or episode and actually losing your mind and reliving your trauma and what you've always wanted to do to your aggressor because some celebrity made a statement you disagree with. Some people have really mundane things as their triggers and that doesn't make their trauma less valid. That's totally a thing cuz sometimes it's like medical trauma or something. I'm not judging that, but other people really are only using the word to mean that they are angry and disagree. That is so damn dangerous as it doesn't help people with mental illnesses to understand what they're going through when a real trigger happens to them. I know that now and I have never used the word that way because it just seemed weird to use so casually, but also other people's casual use of it made me completely unprepared for when I actually got triggered from my own trauma.

I've been somewhat uncomfortable by a coworker for the last few months because when we talk he's been touching me on the shoulder and back. He claims he only tapped me and it's a normal thing in his culture, but like at least once he pet my shoulder to middle of my bicep, and a few times he's grabbed the handle on my backpack. Last time we were on the same train together he rested his hand as we waited for the door to open at Takamatsu station on the Marine Liner. So yeah, awkward and uncomfortable, and I was basically in shock and every time was not able to open my mouth to ask him to stop. My mind would say, "I should tell him to stop," and then I just keep watching myself not do that.

I have a somewhat more senior position in that I've been at the company longer and my boss is training me for more responsibilities, but also I felt a lot of stress and pressure to try to help him too because he's new. Maybe it's a misunderstanding, but that on top of feeling physically uncomfortable and not being able to rectify the situation myself is more than a little straining. Last weekend we were talking and he somehow made me really upset over something really mundane and before I knew it I was talking to him like I was talking to my aggressor when I was trying to get justice for myself and get him to leave me alone. It's really bizarre because it was a huge overreaction disproportionate to what was happening, but I couldn't stop myself and my normal sense of what I should and shouldn't do completely went out the window even though I was also aware of who I was talking to and remembering things specifically about him. I've heard something like this is an emotional flashback where it's not that you literally remember a memory and relive it, it's that suddenly feelings from when you were harassed come up and you feel that way about whoever you're talking to for no reason. My boss was the one to finally calm me down and start pointing out the logic fallacies and break me out of it. She also was kind enough to smooth things over and like not make a big deal about it because she knows it's not me, but I have to make moves to change. I contacted a therapist immediately and started getting treatment for it, but the entire sensation was really bizarre. I felt so justified and like it was right up until just after I spoke with my boss and she helped me to stop unraveling it. She also said a few things that a therapist probably wouldn't recommend saying to someone with PTSD, but she also admitted that she's not a medical expert on that and doesn't actually know how to help me with that. Over the course of the next day the other me started fading away toward the bottom left of my body, but it like felt like an actual miasma cloud of bitterness and hatred. It was so weird. And slowly my normal voice and self I could feel to the upper right above my head, and there were times where it did feel like I had two voices talking to me. One was happy with schadenfreude and one who genuinely felt bad and cared.

But still, the point with this post is after I experienced that and what a trigger feels like and that full loss of control because you are now back in the traumatic moment and not in the present, I didn't understand how Mukuro could hit Hiei. On the other side of it, I can see it now. She was in a bad mood already and kind of already exhausted her resources of being able to have good humor about herself, what happened to her, or just things in general and Hiei said something that happened to hit just the right spot and trauma trigger ho. All cool or sense of what even she's doing and to whom is gone and Hiei goes flying. That said, I also realize now how exactly wonderful Hiei is because even though that happened to him he stuck by her and forgave her and was supportive of her overcoming and facing her past so she could move on. He understood and accepted her trauma and still cared because even though what she did was wrong and she has to take responsibility for her actions, it's also not entirely her fault. It's just trauma.

Oh, but also, there were a lot of people defending it as, "They're youkai. That's how they communicate." No, the hell it is not. That is not what is going on, so I can definitively say that a lot of the YYH community also didn't understand this scene and even the animators because they turned their confrontation into an actual full-on fight in the anime that included parts of this, but also not really. Togashi basically wrote a really beautiful story about Mukuro's birthday and what it's like to live with trauma years after the original event happened and still persevere, and despite the "presents" known as triggers rearing their ugly heads, a person can still find love and acceptance. It is not the end of their life and they are not broken or a lesser person or less deserving of trust and care and support because of what happened to them. We need more stories like this that talk about actual trauma and what it's like to live with it. We have so many stories that are about trauma happening and how a character overcomes it, but we don't have many like this that basically illustrates what a trigger is and how PTSD affects you the rest of your life and how that doesn't make you a bad person that doesn't deserve anything. I wish I was able to notice this earlier and know before. I wish I was able to understand this without needing to go through it myself, but since I did I'm oh so very happy that it exists because it gives me hope.

After a trigger, the person often feels really guilty for their actions because once they calm down and get back to normal safe mode again, the reality of what they did sets in and from that can come guilt, blame, self-hatred, and depression. Especially if the person they care about ditches them after they did that to them. But Hiei doesn't. He instead goes to Kurama and asks for some plants and even asks what kind of stuff women like. Then he takes a very special plant and hunts down her Dad and dresses for the occasion to present her Dad frozen by a plant on a pedestal for her birthday. He really truly accepts her and understands what she's going through and is willing to help her through it.

Now I don't expect my coworker to do something like Hiei, but his actions recently and that of my boss yesterday when we went out to a planned dinner and karaoke party that we scheduled two months before do kind of show me that I also have the same kind of acceptance as well.

But very essentially, Mukuro is the model of a person who is living her life post-trauma well and an example of just general hope. After the aforementioned guilt sets in sometimes people start to think about self-harm or suicide because of the realization that triggers are landmines lain secretly across the rest of their life and you have no idea where they are and if one small thing is going to make you be a complete asshole to someone you love. Very essentially, and importantly to me right now, Mukuro is acting as a role model for me as to how that isn't necessarily true and you can still live well and happily.

0 notes

asfeline · 3 years

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🄲🄾🄻🄻🄴🄰🄶🅄🄴 🄶🄾🄹🄾 🅇 🄵🄴🄼! 🅁🄴🄰🄳🄴🅁

Please be aware of the tags before reading ⚠️

Smut !!

Summary : Gojo is a frustrated colleague and you take care of him

Tags : office sex, voyeurism, unprotected-sex

Credit : rennca_ on Twitter

You were checking your computer very unmotivated after seeing the message at the top of your emails.

𝐇𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐨 𝐌𝐫𝐬. 𝐋/𝐍, 𝐏𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐗𝐗𝐗 𝐟𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐝𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐩𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐬𝐨𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐦𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐚 𝐝𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐫 𝐌𝐫. 𝐆𝐨𝐣𝐨. 𝐈𝐭 𝐢𝐬 𝐧𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐚𝐫𝐲 𝐭𝐨 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞, 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐢𝐬 𝐉𝐮𝐧𝐞 𝟓. 𝐈 𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐨 𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐮𝐬𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝟓, 𝟗 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝟏𝟒 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐡𝐢𝐦. 𝐈 𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐝 𝐚 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐨𝐧 𝐢𝐭 𝐚𝐬 𝐬𝐨𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐬 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐛𝐥𝐞, 𝐒𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐲, 𝐇𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐚 𝐧𝐢𝐜𝐞 𝐝𝐚𝐲, 𝐍𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐢 𝐊𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐃𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐫 𝐨𝐟 𝐗𝐘𝐙 𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐧𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐨@𝐲𝐲𝐲𝐜𝐨𝐫𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐞.𝐜𝐨𝐦

You looked at the top of your screen and the calendar showed you June 5. You sighed. You had put off the date long enough. You rolled your eyes; you definitely didn't want to meet that famous Gojo Satoru whose reputation was pursuing him as a womanizer. You printed the necessary papers, took your phone and looked at the time, 17:49.

Well, I'll go quickly and go home, you thought. You salivated at the thought of your pizza waiting in your freezer. For once you could go home early and enjoy a quiet evening. You grabbed your bag and took a good stretch.

You headed for the elevator. Which floor again? You consulted your company's website and looked for his name in the contacts. His picture appeared first. Womanizer... you could see why all the women were behind. With that piercing blue gaze, and the peculiar color of his platinum hair, even you had to admit that he was more than attractive. Even on his profile, which was supposed to be professional, you could see that he had a little smile on his face, the photographer was certainly a pretty woman. You chased your thoughts and slid on his profile to see his office number: 711.

So, 7th floor, you clicked on the button that indicated the right number.

Once there you looked at the arrows indicating in which direction you should go. The one on the left indicated his office only.

-Son of... you whistled through your teeth; you have an office all to yourself... pfff... you muttered jealously.

His office must have been gigantic. And from where you were, you could see his door, framed by two large windows. You raised your eyebrows admiring the fact that his office was made of glass and that it certainly overlooked an extraordinary view.

You walked over and a few feet before the door, a desk was on your right.

You could read "Secretary" on the silver plate in the middle of the cabinet, but without the owner at her post. You thought about whether you could leave the documents here and go.

-Shit, thinking about the deadline that was today. You couldn’t leave not knowing if he saw them or not, plus you needed to discuss some points with him. Well, never mind let’s see if he’s here, you approached the door which was slightly opened.

Yes! you thought, that means he was still here, you put your hand to open it when you heard muffled sounds coming from inside. You reached out to see what was going on, to see if he was in a meeting with someone but the sounds were more and more like grunts. You closed your eyes and pursed your lips.

It's not what I think it is, right? you thought.

You reached out even closer and heard the moans of a man and those of a woman, whose mouth must have been currently occupied by the "slurp" sounds you could hear.

This was the worst... you thought. How could you interrupt this moment? You definitely weren't going to wait for him to finish his business, nor were you going to go in without being announced, embarrassing them. This is not the place to do that. You bit your lip at the thought, you weren't the one who could talk. You massaged your temple, thinking

-Shit, can you go faster or not?... he moaned from within.

Well, you had to get up the courage, otherwise you would never have made it home. You knocked twice.

-Mr. Gojo? Y/N L/N here, I'm supposed to drop off files for the updates Mr. Nanami requested. Can I leave them on the desk outside for you? you asked.

You heard a sharp muffled noise.

-No, bring them in here, he answered.

What? you thought.

-I need to see the files Mrs. L/N. Come in! he continued.

-What?! said the female voice inside.

You heard several gesticulations in the office before a young woman, slightly taller than you, came out, red with embarrassment. She put her hair back in place and walked towards her desk.

-Oh, and Miss Suwaga? The young woman turned around. Stay at your post, I've sent you the last of the appointments for the week. Finish this and you can go home.

She breathed and went back to her office with a quick step. You swallowed. You didn't know where to put yourself.

-Come in... he said in a deep voice.

You took the files clutched in your hands close to your pounding chest and closed the door behind you. He was sitting in the direction of his large bay window; you could see him from three-quarters. From there you could see that his shirt was down to one button, his hair was partially pulled back. He turned around in his chair to face you.

-Sorry for the wait, I was ... busy, he said, winking at you.

You looked at him and shrugged.

-Next time maybe try to make sure you're alone? you say dryly.

He slumped back in his large chair and crossed his arms behind his head.

-Oh? And the idea of being surprised? he asked you. Isn't that something that excites you?

A wave of electricity shot through your body, ending in your panties. Yes, it is. You had experienced it not long ago.

-I think the topic is off the table for our meeting, you answered him trying to face him. I'll cut to the chase. I'm here to drop this off, you handed him the documents. I need to discuss with you the importance of points 5, 9 and 14, if possible.

-5 June huh?... he said gently.

-Pardon?

He tapped his watch. You raised an eyebrow.

-Fortunately, that my activities saved you then.

You frowned your eyes trying to understand what he was getting at. He smiled.

-Usually I'm out by 5:30, and it would have been too late for you. Knowing Kento, he sent you these documents easily a week in advance... why did you wait so long to deliver them to me?

You couldn't tell him that you didn't want to meet him, that was not very professional...

-I'm on the right date, the rest doesn't matter.

-I'm not so sure about that thought but whatever. So, points 5, 9 and 14... he looked at them and typed some things on his computer. You discussed their implementation and every time you spoke, he looked at you intensely, in a way that made your whole back shiver. You didn't know if he was making you uncomfortable or if it was because of the excitement that was starting to build up in your body. You had to leave before you got to the end of that thought.

-I think we have everything, don't you? you asked, cutting off his gaze.

He tilted his head to the side looking you up and down.

-I have a few more things I'd like to go over with you, he said.

-Is this about our meeting? You asked.

He looked up at the ceiling, thinking.

-More or less, he continued.

-I'm listening then, you answered.

He tilted his head to the side, facing the glass that separated his office from the hallway. His secretary was still at her post, looking exasperated. He smirked.

-I must tell you something, he began. As you can imagine, you stopped me in a crucial moment, and you see I'm both frustrated because I'm currently very tight in my pants.

You widened your eyes.

-But at the same time, I'd like to thank you because it really wasn't incredible, what was going on I mean. He smiled at you, not taking his eyes off you.

-Shall I say “you are welcome”? you said in a playful tone.

His smile did not leave his lips, his tongue passing slowly between them. He rested his elbows on his desk, resting his head on his hands, staring at you. Your legs closed as if by automatic.

-I'd like to be the one to tell you "you're welcome", if you can follow what I'm getting at. I have the impression that you are not indifferent to me, right?

You pinched your lips.

-Well... he continued

He got up from his desk, walking around, you followed him with your eyes. He sat down on the edge, facing you, his legs level with your chest, which was quickening with your breathing. You didn't really know what to say, but to be honest, yes, it had an effect on you. More than you'd like to admit.

-Your face answers for you, baby, I almost don't need you to answer me, he says. I want to hear your beautiful voice...

-Gojo...

-Yes, he cut you off, I want to hear you shout that name, my pretty, under my movements.

The electricity that was flowing through you was really starting to burn, it was making you hot now.

-With your secretary outside? I'm having trouble...

-Oh? so if she's not there... is that a yes? But you see she has to work; she won't bother us... he says with a growing smile.

You swallow, what were you doing? Your pizza was waiting for you, your quiet evening. But deep down, you wanted to see if his reputation was based on anything real.

-Maybe, you say. But if you promise to contain your moaning, maybe I can get past it.

He grunted. So that was his kink? Being heard? Found out?

-Can you? he asked.

-It depends on how well my partner do, you said confidently.

-Confident huh, he said in a hoarse voice. He got up and went to lock the door, turning his secretary's head in your direction.

He signaled her to continue working through the glass.

When he turned around, he could see you starting to unbutton your dress, revealing your black lacy lingerie underneath. You easily let it fall to your feet and found yourself in front of him wearing only your underwear and semi-opaque tights.

He looked you up and down and swallowed. Perfect was the word on his lips. His erection already present since the beginning of your meeting was growing and soon would not be able to hold in his pants become too tight.

You infiltrated a finger on each side of your tights to remove it.

-No, wait! He unexpectedly shouted. I want to do it.

He licked his lips.

-Fuck, you are gorgeous, and I’m picky guy.

He took your head and dipped his tongue in your mouth making you moaned. He took you by the legs, wrapping them around his waist, your almost naked skin touching his exposed chest. You moaned at the contact of his erection on your clothed pussy. He opened his eyes to see your face, focused on your kiss. Oh, he was going to enjoy it. He pinned you down on the desk, his hands sliding down your legs. He got up from you, you opened your eyes slowly to see a semi-god in front of you taking off his shirt, your legs still wrapped around him, your hips starting little movements to rub against him. He smiled.

-Hun, hun, baby, putting his hand on your panties.

He rubbed his fingers against your pussy that only wanted him inside you. You shivered at the thought.

-You are not allowed to move without my permission. I give the orders in my office.

You swallowed and nodded.

-Good girl, he said in a deep voice.

He continued his caresses along your legs, stopping on your thighs and clutching them. He looked at you and smiled widely. You returned his gaze intrigued at what was going on in his head when you felt him suddenly pull on your tights, ripping them off completely, creating two gaping holes on your legs.

-Hey! but before you could continue, he pressed his mouth against yours.

You both moaned in your kiss. His hand slipped under your pantyhose, touching your skin, pinching you then caressing you, leaving little red marks behind. He pulled his hand out and came off from your lips, admiring you panting. He returned his gaze to your pussy, still hidden under too many layers, before tearing off the part of the pantyhose that prevented him from having access to it.

-Ah! you couldn't help but exclaim at the realization that your tights were completely ruined under his attack. Fuck... you felt his warm breath next to your panties, making you even wetter than before. Satoru... please~ you moaned.

-Hmmm, eager I see, he said while shifting your panties to the side having full access to your cunt.

He licked in one go; your pussy completely wet under his movements. He let out an animal growl.

-Tasty, he mumbled before nibbling one of your vaginal lips.

-Urgh! ~ you groaned. More! you begged, putting your hands on his head, in his silver hair.

-What did I say? He said stopping his movements. I give the orders here.

He raised an eyebrow waiting for an answer from you, you nodded slowly, wanting only one thing, that he makes a mess of you.

He returned his attention to your cunt which was just asking for his tongue. He licked one wall, then another, forcing you to gasp under the pleasure of his movements. He finally introduced his long tongue deep into you, making you widen your eyes, and a few tears of pleasure came to the edge of your eyes.

Under his erratic movements, he grunted. He was taking more and more pleasure; his boxers were so tight. He only wanted to take you on his desk until you couldn't walk anymore. He continued to move his tongue back and forth, before concentrating on your clit, biting it tenderly and sucking it repeatedly.

-Ah-ah-ah ~~, you moaned, tongue out. My god… fuck! uh-uh-uh…

He accelerated his movements understanding by your moaning louder and louder that he was doing things right, obviously. He withdrew from your pussy and licked all of your body slowly going up, until he reached your breast.

He easily inserted two long fingers inside you, while licking the contours of your chest. He lifted your bra with his other hand and sucked around your nipple. His fingers quickened the movements, feeling your hips trembling as if you were begging to him to go further. He circled around your clit, making you moaned of pleasure. He nibbled on your nipple before taking more of your breast into his mouth, leaving behind the sucking noises that were getting you off even more. Your pussy tightened at his movements, you felt yourself coming. You couldn't help but cry out in pleasure as he applied pressure to your sensitive spot.

-Hmmm, there yes…yess…ah-ah-ah~~ you moaned so loudly that you knew that the secretary had heard you, making you tighten even more around her fingers. You felt your orgasm coming, making all your legs and body shake.

-OH MY GOD! ~~ you screamed, letting the wave of pleasure take over.

He placed his lips on yours, still fingering you, with his fucking long finger, right through your orgasm. Your walls were clinching around his movements. His name was on your lips, and it was making him so fucking horny. He withdrew from you, letting you breathless on the desk. He let down his pants and started to palpate his dick under his boxer. He was so hard it was painful. You stood up on your elbows, watching him slowly undress before seeing what was waiting for you under his boxers.

-Want that? He asked.

You nodded.

-Ye-yess, I want it… you salivated.

-Suck it then, he ordered removing entirely his boxer, letting free his thick dick, moistened by his precum, decorated by long blue veins. You rolled your tongue over your lips at the thought of having him in your mouth.

You got down from the desk, walking towards him, once facing him you got down on your knees, gently licking his chest. He watched you descend on him, and you never left his sight.

-Mmmh, he moaned, yeah.

You took his cock in your hands, slowly starting to jack him off. You gave a few licks on the top, sucking on his precum which made him tilt his head back. His eyes met those of his secretary who had been looking in your direction for a few minutes now. She could make out your legs, but you were hidden behind the door. Gojo motioned for her to take note, imitating a pen and notebook with his hand, she glared back at him, red. She took her bag, turned around, he let out a laugh. she left the office.

He concentrated on you, who had just started to pump him, rolling your tongue along his member.

-Fuck, you're good, he said in a deep voice.

You took him deeper into your mouth, his tip touching the entrance to your throat. Your heat and wetness turned him on. He took your head and pushed it even deeper into him, holding you firmly. Tears gathered along your eyes and began to roll down. His cock was much too long for you. He pulled out before he pushed in.

-Oh fuck! Yeah!

He accelerated his movements with his hips fucking your mouth hardly. With each coming and going, his cock was pushing more and more into your throat, forcing you to gap on him. He grabbed your head even more, a few more strokes and he'd be able to get himself all the way into your mouth. The thought was already making him want to release himself into you. His movements accelerated and your mouth noises became louder and louder, your saliva and his precum mixing together. He took you out of his mouth, you were completely crying.

What a sight, he thought. You wrapped your hand around him while your jaw readjusted and jerked him off at a rapid pace.

-FUCK yes! Keep it up and I'll cum on you! Shit! UH~~ yes!

He was literally screaming with pleasure. The sun rays were shining through his hair, giving you a wonderful show, this man was the definition of beauty. You took it back into your mouth, pumping it at a steady pace, you felt him shaking, with each of your strokes. His head snapped back, pleasure taking over.

-Holy shit.... I'm gonna... huh-huh~~ cum... fuck!

You sucked his cock completely before diving back on top of him to take him completely, your nose touching his hair, the same color as those on top of his head. You felt him blocking you where you were, with his hands on your head, and his hips took over, moving back and forth at an almost hellish pace in your mouth. Your throat was now completely filled with him.

-Cumming! Huh! ~~ AH!

With one last thrust inside your mouth, he released his cum which went straight into throat, without you being able to do anything. His eyes completely closed, his head still back, his hands on your head and his hips still making little dry movements, as if to make sure you wouldn't let any drop out. He slowly came down from his cloud before watching you swallow the sperm; he had just released into you.

-Fuck that was amazing .... he moaned.

It had been a long time since he had felt so much pleasure from a blow job. Where have you been all this time?

You fell on your hands trying to catch your breath. He laughed at the sight. Confident not long ago, yet you were now on all fours in front of him, and clearly, he wasn't done with you. He took your arm, forcing you to stand up, he pushed his lips on you.

-Incredible, however now this will go into you.

You looked down, seeing that his cock was getting harder. How? In few seconds only… How?

You gasped when he lifted you, kissing you again and bringing you to his chair, next to the bay window, the last rays of sunlight caressing your skin.

-Honey… he said quietly, seeing you shining.

-Sit on me now, I'll take you in that position.

you nodded and placed a leg on each side before taking his cock in your hands, placing it at your entrance. You were soaked with excitement and the touch of his tip on your pussy made you moan.

You rubbed yourself against him, lubricating him before sitting on him, pulling him in more and more.

-Good girl, I'm not quite there yet," he said, watching your two limbs slowly connect. I want to be fully inside you before I let you see the 7th heaven...

You nodded and continued your descent into him, moving up and down to take him even more. You leaned on his head, forcing him to face your breasts still trapped in your bra. He left your slowly descending hips before pulling your bra down leaving your breasts exposed. He sucked on one before grunting, feeling almost entirely inside you. He thrust his hip into you before sneaking your hips into contact.

-Fuck, he steadied himself. Fuck, so tight…

Your eyes were completely closed at the thought of having him inside you. He lowered his head, seeing your juices sliding down your thighs and onto him. He licked his mouth and began to circle his hips so you could feel him all the way inside you. He saw your tongue fall out of your mouth, oh yes you liked that.

He was touching your sensitive points without any effort.

-Move. Now, he ordered.

You lifted yourself up before falling back on top of him, allowing him to see a bulge forming a few inches below your belly button.

He watched you make your moves, hypnotized by the appearance and disappearance of this bump. When was the last time he had faced his partner? For a long time now, he always took them from behind, avoiding meeting their eyes. Yet you, he wanted to see you get off on him. Your movements accelerated on him, your hands went down on his shoulders, your head tilted back. He felt that you were losing your balance, so he grabbed your hips, and started to move in you at a ferrous pace.

-AH! ~~ fuck ye-yessss! You cried.

He was hitting your cervix so easily. He was hammering in you, and you were just a ball of nerve under his contact. With each thrust, he left slap noises that made you so excited. His groans were also growing louder. Your tightness was taking him so good, applying pressure all around his dick.

-God dammit, he moaned, so, so good… ~~

He sped up and sucked on your other tit. You took back his head in your arm, pressing him completely against your chest. Your hands traveled his hair, as he was pounding inside of you. He pinched his lips, not knowing what sounds could still come out of his mouth. You were just a hot mess crying his name, cries that echo throughout his office.

-Huh… I’m cumming… Satoru… harder….

-Fuck… he groaned.

He accelerated his movements, but the chair preventing him from being completely free he got up, you in his arms the legs rolled up around him.

His cadence was animal, he was going to make you cum, and you couldn't take it anymore. He squeezed himself so hard that his cock was part of you. He was coming and going inside you, expanding you again and again, your walls were still adapting. Your pleasure juices were falling on the floor leaving drops gathering more and more on his immaculate marble. His thrusts were more brutal, you felt him coming and you only wanted one thing, his pleasure in you.

-Fuck! he shouted. He took almost all of himself out of you before forcing his hips back into you. I'm gonna fucking cum! In you… shit! ~~

-Ye-ess! inside me! yes! yes! fuck! harder! you screamed.

-You like that, huh! don't you? When I go deep inside you!

He pushed himself deep inside.

-Yes-yess! God, that's the best! Satoru! I love your cock! I love it! URGH! ~~

-ROHH! damn it! He shouted, his rhythm was unbearable.

You came with a loud scream almost falling backwards, but Gojo picked you up by your lower back. You let him do what he wanted with you, not having any energy left, he continued to piston up in your oversensitive pussy, all your nerves were on fire. How does he to still be standing, carrying you and hammering like that??

He was chasing his orgasm. His cock was getting deeper and deeper into you, with one last thrust he went deeper, spilling his hot cum deep inside you.

-Fuck!! he roared. YEAH~~.... fuck!

He let himself in even after a few minutes making sure his cum stayed inside you, even when you went home.

After many minutes he slowly pulled out and slumped back in his chair, you still in his arms. His office was completely dark, as night had fallen. You were slowly catching your breath. You began to remove your pantyhose completely torn off under your partner's hands.

-I don't think it's going to do me much good anymore... you say softly.

He laughed.

-Sorry about that, but I was getting too excited.

-Mmmh... you put your panties back on and slowly buttoned up your dress. You took your bag and pointed to the documents on his desk. Don't forget to fill out the last few items.

He turned to you.

-It takes only a few seconds to do that," he laughed.

-What? You said surprised.

-Yes... I didn't really need all your advice, but an excuse for you to stay. He winked at you, like it worked.

You sighed and picked up your bag.

-Well, Gojo Satoru, it was… nice to meet you, you said as you tapped on the folds of your dress.

-Likewise, likewise… he said closing the buckle of his pants. Can't wait to see the next updates... he snickered.

-Good evening, you answered him turning your back and waving.

-Oh and Y/N ! You turned to him. You are welcome, he said putting his vest on.

You smiled and turned back.

You left his office closing behind you. Ah, his secretary had left. You blushed at the thought that she must have heard you.

You exhaled thinking about your pizza. It’s going to be for another day.

✼ ❉ ✼ ❉ ✼ ❉ ✼ ❉ ✼ ❉ ✼ ❉ ✼ ❉ ✼ ❉ ✼ ❉ ✼ ❉ ✼ ❉ ✼ ❉ ✼ ❉ ✼ ❉ ✼ ❉ ✼ ❉ ✼ ❉ ✼ ❉ ✼ ❉ ✼ ❉ ✼ ❉ ✼ ❉ ✼ ❉ ✼ ❉ ✼ ❉

Sorry not sorry ✌︎

#gojo #gojo x reader #gojo jjk #gojo x oc #gojo x you #gojo fanart #gojo fanfic #smut #fanficjjk #jjk #jjk smut #jjk gojo #fanfiction #anime

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