I CAN'T CLOSE MY EYES ALONE ; SATORU GOJO
synopsis; arguing with satoru is always exhausting. bitter and spiteful, you leave him in the bedroom and go find another place to sleep; your couch would be the obvious choice, but where’s the fun in that?
word count; 4.2k
contents; satoru gojo/reader, f!reader (he calls you ’stubborn girl’ n ’pretty girl’ but other than that it’s gn!!), toru and reader have a fight, reader sleeps in the bathtub (don’t ask it came to me in a vision), hurt/comfort, he's doing his best :<, fluff!!
a/n; smth abt …. arguing w satoru gojo ……. idk why the concept has possessed me in the way that it has i just think hurt/comfort w toru is <33
okay, so maybe this wasn’t the best idea you’ve ever had.
in your defense, you weren’t exactly thinking straight; fueled by spite, eager to get far away, and admittedly a little curious as to how it would feel, the decision was made almost purely on impulse. and stupidity, probably.
it’s not comfortable at all.
maybe it could be. maybe if you had just a couple more pillows, a fluffier blanket with a cozier texture. maybe if you had something soft to put beneath you, another blanket or a comforter or — whatever. maybe if you had a warm cup of tea to drink. maybe if you had something warm to hug to sleep.
or someone.
(aw, what’s wrong? can’t sleep without me after all, huh?)
— nope. you are not going back there.
just the thought of how smug he’d get makes you bite the inside of your cheek, increasing your already growing frustrations. in desperate search of a more comfortable position, you nuzzle further into the pillow, but nothing works.
your limbs feel stiff, and your bones can’t seem to relax, a discomforting numbness seeping into your spine. and it’s cold. the feeling of porcelain against your skin keeps you tossing and turning, akin to an icy winter breeze, caressing the apple of your cheek.
still, there’s simply no other option. under absolutely no circumstances can you turn back now. not when you’ve come this far, when you can almost begin to sense an inkling of sleep’s familiar call, the drowsy flutter of your eyelashes.
it takes time, and perseverance — but eventually, the road to sleep does seem to brighten on the horizon. crawling closer and closer, lulling you into its embrace, while all you can do is lie there. completely at its mercy, exhaustion ghosting your subconscious, eyelids ripe with fatigue.
slowly but surely, your consciousness begins to fade. tenderly, soothingly, like a curtain over your eyes being slowly unveiled. you can almost taste it, on the tip of your tongue; sleep is only a moment away.
soon, you’ll fall into that cozy abyss. and then you’ll open your eyes, and the morning sun will greet you. it’ll be a new day, a better day.
so you keep your eyes closed, and sink a little further into the plush of your pillow, and —
the light flickers on.
in the state you’re in, tiptoeing on the edge between dreams and reality, so tantalizingly close to falling asleep, the brightness is positively grating. even through your shut eyes, it invades your senses — a glow so irritating it’s startling. the bathroom lights mock you with their shine, illuminating your figure, curled up in the tiny bathtub.
the whine you let out is involuntary, coaxed out from deep within your throat, as the uncomfortable sensation rouses you from your would-be slumber.
satoru raises an unimpressed eyebrow, where he stands by the door.
chest bare, wearing only a flimsy pair of sleeping shorts, he looks at you with tired eyes. exasperation painted onto his dishevelled features. then he clicks his tongue, voice raspy and rich with fatigue.
”you’re ridiculous.”
the judgemental tilt of his voice only makes the annoyance in your veins bubble up once more, just when it was finally about to dwindle. eyes squeezed shut to escape the burn of the artificial light, you let out a sharp wince, burrowing your face deeper into the pillow.
”turn it off!”
ignoring your angry plea, satoru makes his way over to you. with long, slow strides, vaguely uncoordinated steps. just a little clumsy. he plops down on the edge of the bathtub, and gazes down at you.
you’re lying on your side, arms wrapped around a fluffy cushion, knees against your chest. under the illumination of the bathroom lights, he can see you clearly; messy hair that he yearns to ruffle, a crease between your brows that he yearns to smooth away.
you look awfully uncomfortable, to no one’s surprise. he isn’t sure what else you were expecting.
despite the sting of the bright lights, you force your eyes open — only to give satoru a halfhearted glare, an attempt at appearing intimidating. though you somehow doubt it’ll work.
resting his jaw on the heel of his palm, satoru tilts his head. soft locks of white hair follow the movement, falling over his eyes, a little more tousled than usual. like he’s been tossing and turning, sprawled out on the bedroom mattress.
and, just like you suspected, the dirty look you send his way doesn’t seem to scare him off. not even in the slightest. if anything, you think you catch a flicker of lazy amusement dancing through his eyes. and it irks you, it does — an itch beneath your skin, a taste of irritation on your tongue.
because satoru is looking at you like you’re somehow in the wrong, here, like you’re the one acting out. as if he isn’t the reason you’re here in the first place.
at this point, you barely even remember what the fight was about. too sleep-deprived to recall it properly, too stressed to make a genuine attempt. all you remember is getting ready for bed, and the familiar sensation of frustration prickling your skin. you remember his pretty little grin, his teasing remarks and refusal to take you seriously.
remember the way he laughed, when you told him what was bothering you; the crinkle of his eyes, the warmth of his hands reaching over to squish your cheeks. a little patronizing.
(there was no malicious intent behind it, that much you know. he probably just wanted to lighten the mood. but it irked you, all the same. hurt you, maybe. just a little bit.)
then you remember storming out. grabbing a blanket and pillow and telling him to sleep on his own, if that’s how he was going to be. the words felt cold as they left your mouth, little breathy icicles. and then you left.
which is why you’re here, right now. curled up in your goddamn bathtub, for some reason that still escapes you, trying desperately to get even a wink of sleep without your boyfriend there to help.
and that’s also why satoru is here, back a tad slouched as he sits on the edge of the bathtub, looking at you like you’re some misbehaving cat. blinking slowly, drowsily, dragged down by the fatigue clinging to his eyelashes.
(he can’t sleep, either.)
”you’re really gonna sleep in there?” he sighs, after a moment’s pause. any honest concern in his voice is almost entirely overshadowed by the sense of admonition that follows it.
a scoff falls from your lips, sharp like a razorblade. ”yes,” you deadpan, shifting to lie on your stomach, hiding away from his insistent view. ”i was sleeping just fine before you barged in here.”
satoru shoots you a look, thoroughly unimpressed, entirely unconvinced of your blatant lie. ”you’re being dumb,” he huffs. ”at least sleep on the couch.”
”i don’t wanna hear that from you,” comes a hiss, low and disgruntled. a growing irritation. ”and i’m comfortable where i am.”
another dissatisfied huff. why are you being so irrational? he just doesn’t get it. scrambling for excuses, satoru tries his hand at another tactic.
”you’ll hurt your back.”
another little scoff. oh, so now he suddenly cares? you can’t believe him.
”so what?”
a moment passes. satoru bites his lip, teeth sinking softly into the flesh; a little pang of ache, but it’s nothing compared to the twist of discomfort in his chest. you’re making this more difficult than it has to be, he thinks. always so stubborn.
what is he supposed to say? how is he supposed to convince you to come back to bed, when you’re already so set on denying him?
god, he’s tired. he just wants to sleep, close his jaded eyes. just wants to not have to think, for a couple hours, curled up with the only person who makes him feel safe. just wants to dream in soft shapes.
but if you aren’t there, then…
a deep sigh. weary, annoyed. ”c’mon,” he coaxes, blinking sluggishly. ”you know you won’t be able to fall asleep without me. can’t we just make up already?”
your nails dig into the fabric of your blanket. every word he says only seems to deepen the sense of irritation plaguing your sleep-deprived mind.
it makes you want to shut him out, bury your head in the soft sheets and forget about everything else. he keeps acting like you’re just overreacting, like you wanted to have an argument. like he wasn’t the one who made you upset and then laughed at you about it.
”i don’t need you to fall asleep,” you grumble, muffled by the pillow in your grasp, arms tightening around it. nuzzling deeper into the soft velvet comfort.
satoru’s fingers twitch, as if urging him to pull you close. he almost glares at the cushion in your arms, that you’re hugging so fondly, putting all your body weight on — snuggling into it in search of comfort and warmth.
(that should be his chest.)
the gears in his head turn, slowly and mechanically, as he brings a hand up to card through his hair.
satoru hates seeing you so upset, so far away from him. having to watch you close yourself off, not allowing him to be near, soothe you and take care of you. kiss all your worries away. that’s all he wants to do, everything he needs to keep himself whole, to keep himself from being devoured by an exhaustion he’s lived with for as long as he can remember.
a strong frustration gnaws at his conscience. a certain desperation.
a big, heavy sigh leaves his lips. it bounces off the walls of the bathroom, the white tiles and shiny mirror, as he drags it out. almost childishly. then he’s angling his body to face you properly, big hands resting on his knees, a determined gaze set on your figure.
”look, i’m sorry,” he starts, rigid and earnest. blinking once, twice, chasing away the drowsy weight of his eyelids. ”i shouldn’t have laughed.”
your ears perk up.
shifting to your side as if hoping to hear him better, you peek up at him through half-lidded eyes. almost in disbelief, a kind of hope sprouting in the corners of your dilated pupils.
is he genuinely going to apologize, you wonder? admit that he was in the wrong? does he actually feel bad?
a moment passes. slow, drawn out, until satoru’s voice spills into the air again.
”there. i apologized,” he exhales, a little gruff. annoyed. ”now will you please just come to bed?”
…
wow.
okay, nevermind. you hope the ceiling fan falls on him.
beneath your skin, a mellow kind of anger bubbles up, blood slowly coming to a boiling point. he’s not sorry at all. of course he isn’t. you were stupid to think he’d actually give you a sincere apology, stupid to think he’d do the one thing that would actually make you want to fall back into his comforting embrace. stupid, stupid.
clenching your teeth, nails digging into the velvet fabric of the pillow, your eyelids flutter shut once more. only this time, you don’t plan on opening them again — at least not until morning comes. not until you see the sunkissed tiles of the bathroom, until the ache inside your chest has passed.
”satoru,” you enunciate, frigid and final. ”just let me sleep. we can talk tomorrow.” a beat. the tiniest grumble resounds from your lips, tinged with exhaustion. ”i’m too tired for this.”
under his breath, satoru winces. that palpable fatigue in your words sends a tremor running through his chest, discomforting, a shiver of his heart. you won’t look at him anymore, and the hint of finality in your tone makes him feel slightly dejected.
god, he’s awful at this. sincerity has never been his strong suit. he’s gotten better, lately, but it’s still so very foreign.
he didn’t mean to make you angry, didn’t mean to upset you. didn’t mean for the lilt of his voice to make his apology sound insincere. but that’s still what happened.
and satoru isn’t quite sure what to do.
he’s tired. eyes heavy with lost sleep, glimpses of would-be nightmares he knows he’d have were he to fall asleep right now. an anxious lump has long since formed in the back of his throat, and he misses you. misses your presence, your warmth. misses the feeling of having you close, the knowledge that you haven’t left yet.
(without you, he can’t —)
a sigh. soft, and resigned, flowing from his lips.
the inner turmoil in satoru’s mind begins to fade, slowly but surely, smoothed away by the sight of you. bundled up in a blanket too small to cover you properly, lying in that cold and cramped bathtub, discomfort evident in your features. sadness dripping from the bitter words you grace him with.
so out of reach, too far for him to follow, a boundary he wants to cross more than anything. but something about that meek expression makes him falter, makes his heart twist and turn inside his ribcage.
(he knows that you’re tired, too.)
so satoru swallows his pride.
the words are spoken in a whisper, hushed, through a voice so low you wouldn’t hear it if the silence of the bathroom wasn’t so suffocating. a soft lilt of his voice, bare and raw. meek, in a way that makes him want to crawl under a rock and die. but it’s there, and he lets you hear it; that soft little truth.
”… i can’t sleep without you.”
satoru doesn’t look at you. his confession rings in your ears, laced together with a softness you’ve come to associate with warm spring mornings and rooms so dark you can’t see his face. moments in which satoru feels safe. safe enough to be sincere.
— inevitably, your heart begins to soften.
(he’s trying. it’s difficult for him, but he’s really trying. sincerity and honesty are things that have been used against him all his life, so it’s no wonder he’d be scared.)
it’s very hard to stay mad at him, when he sounds like that. when his words come out sounding a little too much like a plea, a silent call for help.
with hesitance, you allow your eyes to flutter open, shifting a little to get a better look at him. he’s there, staring into space — the man you’ve grown to love so dearly. his tousled white hair, those slightly forlorn eyes. the vague darkness beneath them, slightly puffy skin. that tired, tired expression.
satoru taps the edge of the tub with the pads of his fingers, absentmindedly. index finger, middle finger, ring finger, over and over.
then, at last, he meets your gaze. and you think he swallows down a gulp, before smiling — it’s a pretty smile, somewhat tiny. a little sheepish, but awfully sincere. awfully satoru.
he tilts his head, gazing into your eyes with a tenderness that melts your heart to the marrow.
”… please?”
a second passes. then two.
soft and melodic, your heartbeat resounds in your ears, akin to a lullaby. like the call of a siren, coaxing you into giving in. and you’re weak, you realize, so very weak. just a smile and a tilt of his head, and you’re rendered utterly helpless.
(he’s just too pretty.)
without fully realizing it yourself, you’ve begun to move, dragging yourself up with sluggish motions. blanket still draped over your shoulders, and pillow snug against your chest, you blink. drowsily, slowly. a little meekly.
and satoru brightens.
it’s visible, in the way he physically perks up, back straightening, smile finally reaching his aquamarine eyes. a blend between hope and affection sprouts in them, slathered over with something honeyed.
a soft grin blooms on his lips, and he opens his arms wide — silently beckoning you to fall into his embrace. a raspy coo tiptoes on his tongue.
”c’mere.”
before you can make a move to do so, satoru leans over. scooping you up with ease, as if you weigh absolutely nothing, tucking you into his warm embrace. smothering you in his cushiony chest.
almost instinctively, your arms go to wrap around his neck, cheek smushed against the warm skin of his shoulder. if you strain your ears, you think you can hear the soft patter of his heartbeat. he smells of the tiramisu you ate before going to bed, and just a hint of expensive cologne. he smells of comfort.
satoru is soft, and warm, and everything you need right now. lulling you back into that cozy, sleepy state. your very own personal dose of melanin.
with a big palm on the small of your back, satoru keeps you pressed up against his chest, as if you could change your mind and try to escape at any moment. he stands up, still holding you, and hikes your legs around his waist. breathing out a satisfied hum, before turning on his heel.
satoru smiles, and presses a kiss to the crown of your head. ”let’s get you back to bed, baby.”
after turning the bathroom lights off, he begins to walk to your shared bedroom, still carrying you with one arm. always so strong and reliable. you know for a fact that he’s not going to drop you, so you opt to close your tired eyes; stretching out your limbs, lazily, releasing a quiet yawn that makes his lips curl up.
despite your lingering frustration, you find yourself nuzzling into the crook of his neck — and satoru coos, so painfully soft that you barely even hear it. the restlessness inside his own chest washed away, by the familairity of your body against his.
and before you know it, he’s dropped you down on the mattress. gently, but still enough to make you feel a little jostled, so close to falling asleep in his arms. he drags the blanket up to cover you, tucking you in; this one is bigger, with a fluffier texture, enough to cover you both with ease.
smiling softly at the sight of you all cozy, content in the knowledge that you’re finally comfortable, satoru crawls beneath the blanket and takes his rightful place beside you. eyes crinkled at the corners, rich with affection.
two strong arms reach around your waist, to pull you flush against him, until your head meets his chest and you can hear the soft thrumming of his heartstrings. then he sighs, in pure bliss, thoroughly content. melting into your embrace, rubbing his cheek against the side of your head, nuzzling into the warmth that seeps from your body to his.
he runs his big hands down your back, affectionately, rubbing circles into your skin. coaxing you into melting a little, too.
”see, isn’t this much better?” he smiles, a little cheeky. such a tease.
”… the bathtub was fine.”
a chuckle rumbles through his chest, rich with fondness. his hand goes to card through your hair, nimble fingers smoothing down your scalp and running through the soft strands. every touch gentle, full of care. every word soaked in a syrupy sweetness.
”stubborn girl.”
despite your best wishes, you’re too tired to bite back the blissful sigh that leaves your lips. a part of you still wants to protest, to push him away —
but then you start leaning into his touch. helpless to his warm hands, his soothing voice. satoru is just a little too good at making you melt. so good that you finally begin to let your guard down, nuzzling into his bare skin, sinking a little further into the mattress.
and satoru stifles a coo.
”honestly,” he sighs, equal parts exasperated and amused. ”sleeping in the bathtub… you’re so silly.”
before you have a chance to respond, he’s pulling back — ever so slightly, just to get a better look at your face. arms looped around his neck, you blink up at him with droopy eyes, and he can’t resist the dopey grin that sneaks its way onto his lips. doesn’t even begin to try, when you look so unbearably sweet.
unable to stop himself, he broaches the distance between you, leaning close to kiss the top of your nose. and you squeeze your eyes shut at the gesture, face scrunching up, but it only makes him chuckle. smiling, honey-sweet, he admires your sleepy pout. soaks up every soft little grumble that slips from your lips.
his hand comes to cradle your cheek, thumb smoothing down your cheekbone. just gazing at you, taking you in, every single contour of your face. there is only adoration in his eyes. something silently delighted, that seeps into his words, his raspy voice.
”my pretty, pretty girl.”
a heat rushes to your cheeks. looking up at him, into those lovesick eyes, you can’t help but grow flustered.
he looks so content.
all you manage is a weak furrow of your brows, pressing a palm against his bare skin. softly, as if pushing him away, forehead meeting his chest with a soft bonk. hiding away, so he won’t see how much his words affect you.
”lemme sleep, toru…” you mumble, stifling a yawn.
unfortunately, your boyfriend is not one to give in so easily. before long, his fingertips are trailing across the skin of your jaw, coaxing you into lifting your chin. and you’re too sleepy to resist — practically melting, as he begins to smear openmouthed kisses all over your face. all you can do is close your eyes, attempting to ignore the sound of his exaggerated mwahs, frowning in a silent disapproval that you know you don’t actually mean.
satoru notices it, though. he always does.
”you still mad at me, baby?” he asks, in a way that sounds a little like he’s cooing at you. there’s a teasing tilt to his voice, but it’s also a genuine question. your frown deepens.
averting your gaze with a soft huff, even as he cradles your jaw with his slender fingers, a pout plays at your lips. under his kind eyes, you feel just a bit meek — recalling your argument from before. absentmindedly, you fidget with the waistband of his shorts, hoping to ease your nerves.
despite your valiant efforts to direct your vocal cords in a different direction, the voice that spills from your lips comes out sounding just a tad hurt.
”… you never take me seriously.”
satoru’s eyes soften.
his smile falters, by a hair, a brief stilling of movement. subtle, but hard not to pick up on. there’s a certain sense of shame in his irises, a genuine guilt stirring his heartstrings; several discomforting sensations, gnawing at the bones of his ribcage.
(you look so small.)
two hands reach out to cup your cheeks, big and warm. swallowing up your whole face. and before you can react, satoru leans in to press a sweet, chaste kiss against your lips. he tastes like tiramisu.
”’m sorry. we can talk about it tomorrow, okay?” he hums, and you can tell that he means it. ”i promise that i’ll take you seriously. for real, this time.”
as you look into those eyes of his, blue and soft around the edges, the last of your frustration is finally washed away. with a meek downward glance, and a faint nod, satoru relaxes — releasing a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding. relieved at your silent forgiveness.
tomorrow, he’ll definitely make it up to you. he’ll hear you out, without opening his big mouth, or trying to skirt around any emotions that make him feel even slightly uncomfortable. smoothing a big palm down your back, he hopes you feel it as a silent apology.
for now, he’ll just hold you. he’ll hold you, and kiss all your worries away, and keep you comfy and warm. that’s his duty. the only one he’d willingly choose, the only weight on his shoulders that never feels even a little bit suffocating. the only one he wouldn’t cast away, if given the chance.
nuzzling back into the safety of his collarbone, your heartbeat settles into a drowsy rhythm, slow and serene. satoru squeezes you in a tight hug, reassuring. comforting.
he can be a handful, and a little insensitive, but you love him a lot. you can’t imagine not loving him.
”… goodnight, toru,” you whisper. ready to give into sleep’s call, at last.
satoru smiles. you can hear it in his voice, sweet and silky, a soft curl of his lips. ”goodnight, honey,” he presses a kiss against your shoulder. warm, his breath on your skin. ”i love you.”
a yawn escapes your throat. ”love you too…” you mumble, sleepily. that one soft truth, before your consciousness fades.
and satoru’s smile only grows. hopelessly, inevitably, in the same way his hands can’t help but to bring you closer. until your heart is flush against his own, and he swears he can feel your heartbeats synchronize.
finally, with those three little words, satoru should be able to go to sleep. drifting off, he can only hope you’ll still be in his arms by the time he awakens.
(then again; you always are, aren’t you?)
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can u pls expand on them fawning over u being tashis friend pls??? like how they would find out abt u being at the academy or if tashi would work as their wingwoman or smth??
Abso-fucking-lutely!
The boys have been staying at Stanford for about a weak, sleeping in your and Tashi's dorm room on a mattress that they fetched God knows where. You don't really question anything regarding the two, knowing the more attention you'd pay to them, the crazier you would go. And at the time, you genuinely can't afford to lose yourself over two boys you used to have a crush on.
However, the boys are making it infinitely harder for you. They seem to be everywhere you are, asking you how your practice went, how did you do on that literature exam and if you want a company for lunch. As if they have figured out your whole schedule and everything else concerning youe life at Stanford.
If only you knew that your precious roommate is the one feeding the boys' little brains with valuable information about you, you'd probably threaten to burn one of her favourite Adidas sports sets. But Tashi is far from stupid and far from blind, she can very clearly see how interested the boys are in you. And she knows damn well that you need to get laid as well.
She never really told them about your background, judging that it's only your call to do so, and honestly, the missing knowledge of your past really doesn't discourage Patrick and Art from going after you. What matters to them is your immense cuteness and bashful smiles you cast in their direction when they speak to you. Your beautiful body that they imagine squished on the bed between their own, where they hands would have access to each square inch of your soft skin. How badly they are aching to touch you, to hold and kiss you, to make you their.
"So... Any plans for the weekend?" Art questions, breaking the calm silence of the dorm room, his head resting against Patrick's shoulder.
"Uh, no, not really." you shake your head. "Tash?"
"Nope, nothing. Just practice." she responds without lifting her gaze up from her notebook, probably scribbling down something about tennis.
"Well, me and Artie wanted to go clubbing, 'cause I dunno 'bout you, but I'm thirsty for some beer." Patrick proposes, patting Art's thigh.
In reality, they are just hoping to get you drunk and find out more about you, perhaps find an excuse to touch you after getting you drunk and having to transport you back to your bed.
Immediately, Tashi senses the hidden plan. "Well, Y/N could show you some places."
"Me?" you almost choke onto your saliva. "You know I don't go out that often."
"But you liked the place down the corner, y'know, where we went last time."
This is how you find yourself at a local bar, popular mainly among the young aduls attending the Stanford university, stuffed in a ridiculously short dress that Tashi insisted makes your booty look the best. The boys are on their third drink, their behaviour not so different to the sober state. If anything, the alcohol is merely allowing them to proceed with their flirting game.
"So Y/NNN..." Patrick is in a slightly looser shape than Art, his arm thrown around your shoulders in a leisured manner. "Feeling drunk enough?"
Drunk? No. Hot and borhered and flustered? Hell yeah.
"You could use a drink or two. Not that we're forcing you into anything." Art proposes with a gentle smile, sliding his glass of whiskey along the countertop right in front of you.
"He's right, baby, drink. Don't worry, we'll take care of you." Patrick's lips brush over the shell of your ear as he picks the glass up and brings it to your lips.
Four glasses and some songs later, you're in the middle of the dancefloor, surrounded by sweaty bodies and squished between the two handsome tennis players. While you're facing Art, hands lazily resting on his shoulders, his cheeky smile completely filling your field of vision, Patrick's behind you, chest rubbing against your back, palms planted on your hips.
And they can't believe it, that they have you so close, half drunk and slowly losing your mind. They're ready to be your bodyguards whispering in your ear that they've got you, that you're okay. Just enjoy yourself, you're safe with them. Plus they feel so fucking good.
"You're so pretty, Y/N." Art leans in, forehead resting against yours as his hands wrap tighter around your waist.
Almost whining that he's attempting to steal you from him, Patrick is basically glued to your back, sealing the sandwich the three of you form. "Our pretty girl."
It's all too hot, too loud and sweaty, not your optimal choice for a Friday evening. But at the moment, you wouldn't want to be anywhere else. They're holding you so nice, pressing into you from all sides, making your body burn with the touches of their palms. Tiny kisses are being placed on your jaw and neck, both of the boys testing the waters and smirking when you do nothing to push them away. As if your mind is too clouded to realise what's actually going on.
What they don't know is, that this is your teenage dream coming true. The two boys you spent long months having such an intense crush on, wishing they could see you the way you see them. That they would touch and hold and kiss you the way you imagine it, the exact way that they are doing it now. And it feels so good to have such power over them, to have them completely wrapped around your finger. At that point, you swear to yourself you'll never tell them about your background, about the academy. Because if they love the Stanford version of you, why would you remind them that there a tennis academy one as well?
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I’ve been posting a lot saying stay ff abt writing, (and honestly the Keegan brothers bsf thingy is still a wip) but I just had some thoughts about Keegan.
TATTOOS? — KEEGAN RUSS x FEM!READER
Warnings: a lot of kissing, pet/nick names(princess, keegs), reader is said to be a girl, and this is not at all proofread or even checked for grammar corrections.
Summary: while Keegan’s tired self is asleep and your bored you can’t help but give him some tattoos.
—
Keegan had been on leave for a while now, which he deserved, you two had been making the most of him being back for now. You’d get bored from time to time since he was gone a lot, and it was really boring without your man. And you couldn’t exactly get a dog.
So you cooked a lot in your free time, drew, colored, watched almost everything on earth. So you had a lot of hobies now, and now that Keegan was back it’s less boring, having him be around and doing things like actually having a conversation with someone other than family on the phone made you so happy.
But Keegan’s a hard working man, he does so many things, on and off the field that he gets tired (at this point your surprised he hasn’t gotten gray hairs)
It’s really surprising
But due to all the work he does, he’s really tired, and already so sleep deprived, so he sleeps a lot. Even a tired Keegan walks through the door ready to have you ass up, but you know now that he’s a different type of tired when all he wants to do is sleep.
“Keegs?” You whispered, unsure if he was asleep or not, a groan was his response so you laid there next to him as he slept, it was barely 7 pm and he’d been outside working on your car, but he looked like a old man having his bedtime at 7.
The whole bed moved as he laid back, having his bare torso showing. Now, Keegan doesn’t have tattoos and he’s never had a thought of getting one, but the small thought in your brain of him actually having one, makes your mind go hazy.
Either way it didn’t matter, he was hot with or without it, and even more adorable when he was sleeping peacefully. But a girl can dream, right?
With that dream in your mind, and a pen on the nightstand next to you, you began drawing designs on your boyfriends stomach, you now hated his abs for how hard it was to draw on them. But that was besides the point.
You drew a couple of things, your name in a interesting looking “font” and drew a small airplane on the side of his stomach as to not make anything to big, or fuck the drawing up. Eventually you began working on a flower, a nice simple lily, it was simple but it looked very “professional” and detailed. Thanks to the tutorial you’d watched a while back.
You began connecting it with another flower with more leaves till there were four flowers in total drawn on him, he hadn’t even moved the whole time. Maybe he’d woken up and just didn’t want to say anything? Nope, he was sound asleep as you checked his face.
As the hour passed by your started getting sleep too. You laid there watching him before finally falling asleep along with Keegan. One of the most peaceful sleeps you’d had. (since every night without having Keegan wasn’t amazing)
What only felt like a quick second was actually hours and you woke up to the sun rising again, Keegan was still sound asleep when you opened your eyes, the sight was weird almost, he always woke up very early and ended up in the kitchen drinking coffee as he couldn’t sleep again even if he was still tired.
You glanced at the drawing on his stomach which had t looked like it faded at all so you assumed he wasn’t tossing and turning at night.
You were still tired and managed to fall back asleep for a while before waking up to movement. You opened your eyes when you felt Keegan’s arm move, he groaned a bit and rubbed his eyes.
“Morning keegs”you said, moving a little to remove your head from his chest, he frowned a bit at that and finally looked at you “g’morning princess” he said, he hadn’t noticed his new drawings yet.
You leaned up a little and gave him a chaste kiss on the lips, he seemed unhappy with that and leaned into you for another kiss before pulling away.
“What time did I fall asleep yesterday?” He asked, the rasp in his voice becoming more apparent now. “7, 7:30” you said and sat up, he hummed and it didn’t sound happy, but not mad either,“it seems like your boyfriend has a curfew” he said jokingly as he mentions the other nights he feel asleep in the afternoon.
You let out a chuckle before saying “yeah, I’m dating an old man” and now he was the one laughing, he had such a sweet and cute laugh.
“Well princess” he sat up and placed his forehead on yours “your old man gonna need someone to help in the shower than, right?” He said and gave you another kiss.
When he finally got up passing the mirror he finally took notice to the ink on his abs. He stared at himself for a while before he turned back to you as you seemed to be staring at him as well, “what?” You smiled “I like your new tattoos” you said and got up off the bed. He smiled at that, turning his attention back to the mirror.
“They’re not terrible” he said “very, nice” he finished as his hand grazed his stomach. “I like this a lot” he pointed at the one with your name, “love it” he corrected himself.
It made you giggle as he placed his hands on your hips to lean in and kiss you again. He pulled away only inches apart from you “This is what you do when I’m asleep?” He asked going back to continue the kiss, you nodded into the kiss.
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Hey ! Just discovered your account and I was wondering if you know the drama "Weak Hero class 1" ? Im in love with So-Ho character do you think you could write smth abt him ?
Joy Ride |So-Ho|
I haven’t actually watched this kdrama till I saw your request. Thank you so much because now I’m obsessed 😭. I hope you like it though ❤️
I sat at my desk rolling my eyes at the boys sitting behind me. Their little friend group acts as if they run the school. No one says anything though everyone just lets it happen scared of what they'd do. Honestly, sometimes I feel as though they are all bark but no bite. Finally, when school let out I looked over at my boyfriend who was sleeping resting his head on a cute pillow. I packed my stuff up and went over to his desk.
"So-ho~," I said sitting at the desk in front of his. I gently knocked on his head waiting for him to wake up. He groaned and rubbed his face. "Good morning"
"Why didn't you wake me up sooner?" He said tiredly.
"School just got out" I chuckled. "You slept through the class again"
"Not again"
"Don't worry I have notes for you" I smiled.
"How about we hang out for the rest of the day?" He said as we walked outside together.
"Don't you have work?" I asked as we made it to his motorcycle.
"Nope they gave me the day off and I want to spend it with you" He smiled at me giving me butterflies. "Hop on"
"What?"
"Get on the bike," He said putting his helmet on mine.
"No way I'll walk and-"
"Come on it's fun" He grinned.
"So-ho, le-"
"I promise I won't let you get hurt" He lead me to the seat. "Do you trust me?"
"I trust you"
"Then get on I'll go slow," He said as I hesitantly got on the bike. He sat in front of me grabbing both of my hands and wrapped them around his waist. "Just hold on"
"Alright," I said nervously tightly grabbing his waist.
He started the motorcycle and revved the engine making me jump. He started driving as I buried my head in his neck scared to look around. The drive started to feel nice and the small bumps in the road that made me flinch got better over time. I carefully peeked my head out from his back to look around the sudden gust of wind overcame my body as I loosened my grip from So-ho's waist making him smiley at the sudden comfort. I looked around at the streetlights coming to like as the sun fell. Even though I've seen those lights flash multiple times this felt different. The adrenaline in my body and the wind flowing through my hair made me feel free, it made me feel alive. So-ho pulled over in front of a restaurant getting off the bike.
"Holy shit," I said catching my breath and smiling.
"I thought you didn't like going on motorcycles" He teased putting his hands in his pockets.
"I didn't either," I said placing the helmet down.
"I guess we're going shopping for a helmet."
"What do you mean?"
"I'm gonna start driving you home" He grabbed my hand as we walked into the restaurant. "or you could ride with me while working.
"How about both,"
"Perfect," He said.
When the waitress came over we decided to share a meal since I felt a little sick from the drive we took.
"That's normal, you'll get used to it."
"That's good I want to ride with you all the time." I smiled.
"Why don't we walk up to the store up the street that sells helmets." He said while eating. "Then we can go faster since we weren't going that fast."
"Perfect, I don't want you to get hurt"
"I'm more worried about you." He grabbed my hand from across the table. "You're always my first priority"
"Stop you're making me blush" I covered my face the butterflies coming back.
"I'm serious" He laughed lightly. "I care a lot about you"
"I care a lot about you too," I said all red.
After we finished eating So-ho paid for dinner and grabbed my hand as we walked outside. There was a peaceful silence between us as we walked down the sidewalk. It wasn't too packed so it was nice feeling the breeze. He walked in front of a store that specifically sold sports gear along with a few other items.
"Ladies first." He said opening the door.
"Why thank you kind sir" I jokingly bowed as we both made how way to the helmet section. "What color or design should I get?"
"Let's see what they have," He said as we walked in front of the gear we needed. "There aren't many colors left" He frowned
"It's fine, I can always come back you know," I said putting a random one on my head" What do you think?"
He smiled and whistled which made me gently smack his arm. I rolled my eyes smiling.
"I think it suits you" He smiled crossing his arms.
"You think so?" I asked looking at the item.
"I know so, plus like you said earlier we could come back" He uncrossed his arms as we made our way to the front grabbing a few miscellanies things on the way. "I'll pay"
"You paid for dinner let me" I insisted pulling money out and before he knew it everything was in the bag.
"Have a nice day!"
"You as well" I smiled and dragged my sulking boyfriend with me.
"You should have let me pay," He said. "Especially since it's my bike"
"Hey, don't worry about it I'm happy I did"
"Next time I'm buying a bigger dinner and you can't pinch in a cent," He said stopping to look at the lights.
"What's wrong?" I asked worriedly.
"I've never really paid attention to the scenery since I'm always on the run." He said smiling. "I'm glad I'm able to see it with you"
"You should give yourself some more time off you work so hard" I admired his face in the beaming light that captured his beauty. His smile already lit up the streets and his eyes were captivating. He looked over at me staring but I didn't care I let myself stand my ground just this once.
"You're cute," I said out of nowhere making him turn red.
"What was that all about," He said off guard.
"To be honest I dunno just wanted to say that" I smiled.
"You're a hot mess express sometimes" He chuckled looking me in the eye and cupped my cheek.
It was my turn to be caught off guard as he wrapped his hand around my waist making me drop the bag in shock. I felt like I was in a romance K-drama with the swinging lights in the background, instead of Jae-Chan and Hong-Joo it was me and So-Ho. I wrapped my arms around his neck as I gently kissed him. It wasn't fast but it wasn't too slow. We both blushed looking at each other and then looking away shyly. He hugged me and I hugged him back little did I know what was going on behind the scenes. He pulled away from the hug and bent down to grab the bag.
"Let's go back on the Joy Ride" He smiled putting the helmet on my face and giving it a knock.
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