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#Talking Baseball Card
cryptocollectibles · 7 days
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Babe Ruth Talking Baseball Card and Album Set (1989) by CMC
Contains talking baseball card, 20 baseball cards made for this set, and and a booklet with the history of Babe Ruth, all in an album.
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gummyartstradingcards · 4 months
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moonlightcookie · 3 months
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i think saying tobirama engaged in eugenics is straight up insane and a fundamental misunderstanding of what eugenics actually is. never once did tobirama try conducting experiments to selectively breed out the sharingan, or even the uchiha bloodline in general
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androidboy · 6 months
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most notable times of being hit on by customers:
guy who tried to impress me with card tricks and failed every single one of them
old man who attempted to get my number when his wife walked away and slipped me his email address ending with “@ aol.com” when i said i don’t do that
cute gay couple that came back to tell me i was cute and then called the shop to ask me out
older professor who i talked to about folklore and told me he dressed as a wizard for recitals saying “this is really embarrassing but umm.. i’d love to get to know you more..” and gave me a receipt with his email address on it
dude in his 40s asking me on a movie date and me saying yes but then he kept starting text conversations with “ahoi hoi”
military guy who said it’d be hot if i killed him with a baseball bat
most notable time a customer did not ask me out:
a man who i knew had a wife and children getting really flustered and saying “um. ive been, uh.. idk if you remember me but um. i come in here a lot and ive uhhh haha umm ive been wanting to ask you for a couple weeks now.. um. have you read the green lantern issue i recommended??????”
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lokissweater · 21 days
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talk baby ⋆。°✩
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{mlb!megumi fushiguro x f!reader}
summary: it’s the season of the world series!— your little life with megumi absolutely warm and loving as you spent every waking moment together, the both of you never failing to hang out or speak to one another since the very moment you two made it official. but when the higher ups start demanding more of megumi to bring the world series home, tiring him out and causing him to lose sleep? a wedge is driven between you both as megumi tells you words he wished he’d never said.
warnings: MDNI. afab!reader, cursing, FLUFF, ANGSTYY, p in v sex, unprotected sex (wrap it yall), SMUT, baseball talk, megumi LOOVESS YOUU my goodness, DONINANT AF MEGUMI OBVIOUSLYYY, creampie, shower sex, DIRTY TALK megumi has a filthy mouth, megumi and reader get into a fight, it’s the world series, all characters are aged up.
word count: 12.5k (IM SORRY IM SORRY IM SORRY-)
authors note: THE WAIT IS FINALLY OVERRR FUCK i cannot thank you all enough for the support with these series. i saw all of your AMAZING suggestions and sprinkled them all over THANK YOU!! i POURED my heart into this and i really hope you all love itttttt :,( STAY TUNED FOR THE NEXT FIC OF THIS SERIES AAHHH!! I LOVE YOU MWAHHH <33
i highly highly advise you to read the first part of this fic or else you won’t be able to understand some of the storyline and references :( you can find it here!
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megumi fushiguro loved how much you talked.
“—and then i went to the bakery down the street from my campus to get that one coffee cake i always get? the one you brought me after my class?”
“mhm.”
“but they were freaking out of it it’s like they knew i was coming to take their stock man. it was seven in the morning how the fuck are you out of coffee cake?”
megumi laughed softly and pressed a slow sweet kiss to your cheek, readjusting his arms around your waist as he scooched your body closer to his on his lap, the both of you on his huge black bean bag that sat in his living room as he leaned the side of his head back on your shoulder, relaxed and a little sleepy.
“so then i had to go to the one on campus, even though i already know it doesn’t taste the same…” you sighed sadly. “what if they did that on purpose? what if they want me to stop coming?”
megumi huffed an amused breath through his nose and shook his head gently against your shoulder. “don’t think so baby. i feel like you keep them in business with how much you go.”
you huffed and crossed your arms, grumbling. “yet they treat me like this...”
tilting your head down then to get a better look at him, you peeked at his sleepy face and tired eyes as he tried his absolute hardest to stay awake for you, wanting to listen to everything you had to say and more, but his eyelids drooping every couple of seconds before opening back up again just not letting him.
you smiled softly and carded your fingers through his black hair, pushing the front strands back and giving him a cute peck on his forehead.
“take a nap gumi… you’re so tired i can see it.”
“uh uh.” megumi hummed.
he lifted his head groggily and propped his chin up on your shoulder, eyes closed.
“keep going.” he murmured, his words a little slurred. “did you end up getting your coffee cake from the other bakery..?”
“i did.” you responded softly, caressing your thumb over his warm cheek as your soothing voice lulled him. “it was nasty. the end. c’mon baby you have practice tomorrow—”
“no.”
“gumi it’s late i don’t want to keep you uuupp.” you whined, nudging him.
“if you sleep over.” he mumbled.
“but i have class tomorrow.”
“i’ll take you.”
“but you always do and i feel bad…” you pinched his cheek softly. “it’s okay i can—”
“don’t care.”
you giggled. “well i do. i want you to get more sleep gumi, your practices are crazy long now and you have them like everyday—”
he groaned loudly and ushered you up, you complying as you watched him lazily stand from the bean bag and grab you, baggy eyes half lidded as he picked you up from around your legs and threw you over his shoulder— something he always did ever since the day he confessed, and something you absolutely floored over whenever he did it.
your giggles rang through his quiet and spacious apartment that made him sleepily smile as he lazily carried you down the hall and to his room, setting you softly to sit on his plush bed as he pressed a sleepy kiss to the top of your head, though nearly almost missing, him leaning back up and grabbing the hem of his black shirt— pulling it over his head and carelessly tossing it somewhere in the room before climbing into bed.
you felt so so bad. the team’s schedule was released just two weeks prior, and seeing as the world series was coming up— the most important segment of competitive games they could possibly ever have, the coaches and managers were grinding and overworking their players to pure fucking filth, them wanting to keep their streak as the number one baseball team no matter what it took.
and because of that, megumi was always so tired and stressed— holding on day by day as the higher ups demanded so much of him because he was the most skilled on the team, him spending his days trying to stay awake and make time for you— picking you up from class and taking you out to lunch like he always did, but your worried gaze always on his dark under eyes as you insisted and told him already that you understood, that he didn’t need to right now if it was over the subject of his career.
and especially if it was for the world series.
“lay down.” he murmured, patting the pillow next to him as he peeked at you with one eye open.
you stood, pulled the covers back and hopped in, megumi’s arm immediately snaking around your waist and pulling your back to his bare chest, his face nuzzling in your hair as you noticed how quickly his breathing deepened, falling asleep almost the minute you got settled in his arms and fitting like a little puzzle piece.
it had been almost an entire year since you and megumi started dating, and you have never ever been happier in your life as you thanked your lucky stars over and over again for being such a dumbass— wholly believing that if one thing had changed, it wouldn’t have played out the way that it did.
and you adored the way that it played out.
megumi was so affectionate. everyday. his love language being physical touch as he literally never left you alone and always had to be touching you in any given situation— like his hand on your thigh whenever he drove, playing with your fingers from across the table while out at a restaurant… and like now, his toned body literally engulfing you into his that it made you feel so cared for and warm and loved, something you always wanted to feel for the rest of your life as long as it was with him.
the next morning he drove you to school like he said he would, and then went straight to practice after, you telling him that you would be there once your classes were over.
and when you did get to the stadium later that day, megumi was mad.
“what the fuck happened?” you quickly sat next to your best friend on the sidelines, her snickering as you both watched megumi tell off another player for fumbling a double play on the field.
“they’re making more errors today,” your girl friend sighed. “they’re all nervous since their division series game is tomorrow and they’re getting closer to the big thing… but megumi is not having it.”
“you bobbled the ball go to first fucking base and eat it what the hell are you doing trying to—”
you gnawed at your bottom lip.
it was common for megumi to bark out orders and take charge on the field, that wasn’t out of the ordinary, but it was only here and there where he was yelling and insulting the rest of his teammates like that (mostly rarely). a sign you knew was because he was stressing the fuck out.
“what you just did was a kiddie fucking error we won’t make it to the world series like this dingus the fuck are you—”
you covered your face and groaned. “i can’t watch… i don’t think i’ve seen him like this since that one day he asked me to come here.”
“you mean the day he ate you out in—”
“shuuushhh!” your hands shot out and slapped over her mouth as she let out a muffled laugh, your eyes wide and cheeks pink as you frantically looked around to see if anybody had heard her.
she took your wrists then and pulled them away. “have you guys even had sex yet? how many times am i gonna ask you until you say yes—”
you nudged her away. “no! we haven’t yet.”
you didn’t know why you hadn’t— the topic just one that was never brought up by either of you.
but you’ve definitely done other things though.
megumi was like a dog, not knowing the meaning of ‘keep your hands to yourself’ as he was always groping your ass in public out of no where just to hear you squeak in surprise, shoving his hands down your pants and making you cum repeatedly on his fingers when you’re both innocently just watching a movie on his couch, pressing his face into your tits and sucking hickeys whenever you wore a low cut shirt, and bullying his way in between your legs to lick and devour you up whenever he felt like it— all things he did with zero hesitation nor self control.
you weren’t complaining though, definitely not— you were just as freaky.
because every time megumi wore those gray sweatpants after practices that you loved oh so very much, no shirt on with his perfect toned body out only for your eyes— your mouth was on him, licking his chest all the way down to his pelvis, tugging the waistband of his sweatpants and boxers down until all that was left before you was his mlb dick, you taking him into your mouth and sucking the absolute life out of him until he was shaking and breathlessly chanting your pretty name like a prayer—
“break!”
you pulled yourself from your thoughts and stood, your eyes already watching the way megumi walked over from across the field with his head down, chest heaving and his face glistening with sweat against the setting sun, his baseball uniform covered in dirt.
both you and your girl friend walked down the steps and towards the bullpen, you quickly grabbing a clean white hand towel from the gatorade jug rack beforehand and catching up, spotting yuji and megumi already seated inside on a bench.
upon megumi noticing you coming up, he smiled softly, tiredly.
“you guys are sucking today.” your best friend deadpanned, and you elbowed her.
“no. you guys just look really nervous… is everything okay?”
you took a seat next to megumi and silently offered the clean towel, him gently bringing up your extended wrist and pecking it in gratitude before taking the towel and wiping down his face, your cheeks flushing in response.
yuji sighed deeply and shook his head, scratching the back of his neck. “everyone’s literally losing it. we win every year but each year that comes is extra added pressure to keep that up.”
megumi nodded wordlessly in agreement, his head hung.
“well this is your first bad practice isn’t it?” you softly mentioned.
“yeah… maybe it’s just today and you guys will be okay tomorrow.” your girl friend added, smiling comfortingly at yuji, him giving her the same smile back but with apprehension in his eyes.
“would’ve been fine if it was yesterday.” megumi cut in, voice monotone. “not today. not when it’s the last leg for the world series.”
he leaned back against the wall and crossed his arms with closed eyes, yuji nodding next to him.
you pulled your lips into a thin line, heavy anxiety brewing in your chest at the thought of them possibly losing before even getting into the league championships, something their team has never done before as they’ve always just gone straight through.
in order to get through to the world series, their team has to win the division series and the league championships, then they earn their rightful shining spot of playing in the world series and winning— something megumi has been a part of for almost three years now, and something the team has dominated over for five consecutive years straight.
but what if this year was different?
“how are you feeling?” you gently asked megumi after a bit. “i saw you were a little mad today on the field…”
he slowly pried his eyes open and looked at you, sighing softly through his nose.
“m’fine pretty baby.” he murmured. “they’re just not playing like they should be.”
megumi took his cap off and scratched the side of his head, his eyebrows furrowed in annoyance. “and neither am i to be honest.”
your eyes softened.
“what do you mean?”
“m’just not meeting the standards i set for myself.”
“but you play well in every game gumi..” you mumbled. “don’t overwork yourself please. just keep doing what you’ve been doing… it’s been going great so far, hasn’t it?”
he gave you a little smile and lazily reached up to delicately caress and run the ends of your hair through his fingers. “i need to amp it up though. i need to try harder.”
“try harder when you’re already winning?” you quirked a confused brow.
he nodded.
“what’s the reason behind that?”
megumi gave you a sly smile. “because you’ll be watching me.”
you gawked, shaking your head at him. “gumi, you know anything that you do makes me freak out and it’s embarrassing...” you subconsciously tugged a bit at the sides of his jersey. “the way you tied my shoes for me the other day made me freak out. the way you pumped my gas last week made me freak out. the way you stuck your fingers inside my pu—”
his eyes bulged open as he shot forward and muffled you with a kiss, you kissing him back and laughing cutely once he pulled away.
“nasty mouth…” he mumbled, but the little grin on his face made you giggle as he put his cap back on over his head and nudged it down, trying to conceal his eyes and the blushing of his cheeks— but you catching on anyways.
“how was class?” he asked quietly, readjusting his cap. “did you get your coffee cake after i dropped you off?”
you shook your head. “no because i’d rather die than get the one on campus. they need to close that place down.”
megumi snorted, but his eyebrows pinched momentarily as he took your hand in his and started playing with your fingers. “you should’ve told me. i would’ve drove you to the one you like.”
“no gumi i wasn’t gonna make you do that... i wanted you to sleep in as much as possible.”
“i’ll take you after practice.”
“no! you need to nap after don’t waste time—”
“m’not wasting time.” he replied, but before you could get another word in, his coach called all players back on field.
“i’ll see you after.” he stood and pecked your forehead. “i love you pretty baby.”
you smiled shyly, your cheeks a cute pink.
“i love you too.”
thankfully, megumi didn’t seem as pissed off for the rest of practice, and you hoped it was because of the little chat you had with him in the bullpen prior and that it cheered him up in some way— the team playing a lot better and actually working together this time instead of being at each others throats over feeble mistakes.
and when they were all finally back at the locker rooms packed up and ready to go, you organized his clean uniform for tomorrow and hung his gloves neatly inside his locker, closing it once you were done.
“you don’t have to do that baby.” he murmured, gesturing to his locker as he swung his duffel bag over his shoulder and extended a hand. “organize. i can do that.”
“but i like doing it...” you took his offering hand and interlaced your fingers with his. “it helps you find things quicker.”
you both stepped out, quickly bidding your girl friend and yuji goodbye on the way as you walked down the echoey hallway together.
“—you also don’t have to drive me to school every morning but you do that anyways.”
he smiled. “touché.”
he led you out of the arena and over to the private parking area for players and crew— him opening the passenger side door for you to step inside and shutting it after, throwing his duffel bag to the back once he got in the drivers seat.
and like he always did, megumi buckled you up himself, grabbing the seat belt strap and pulling it over you to click on the other side with a kiss to your cheek— him never letting you do it yourself since the day you two properly met.
“do they sell food at the bakery?” he looked over at you as he pulled out. “they do don’t they.”
“they do!” you nodded sweetly. “but we’re not going.”
“why.”
“because you need to sleep—”
“no.”
“megumi—”
he shot you a glare and you squeaked.
“gumi! i-i meant gumi!”
he fixed his glare and broke out into a small smile instead, laughing lightly as he set his big hand over your thigh and squeezed lovingly.
you giggled softly.
“lunch first and then i’ll sleep.”
“oh my—”
you reached over for the door handle and pulled, brows furrowing once the lock wouldn’t budge after multiple frantic tries.
“you still have child lock on?!”
megumi shielded his mouth to hide his snicker, eyes to the road.
“uh huh.”
“why?!”
he gave you a deadpanned look and pointed to the door. “exhibit a, baby. the car is moving.”
“gumi if you hate me just say that.”
pulling into the bakery’s parking lot, he playfully rolled his eyes at your comment and pinched your cheek gently.
“be quiet.”
the bakery was a cute little place that was a frequent pit stop for the both of you to pick up breakfast on the way to the things you had to do in the mornings— always cozy and warm and filled with little trinkets and postcards of places from around the world, you always gushing when you or megumi would spot a new souvenir on the walls or on the shelves, and him sometimes having to stop you from snatching some for yourself…
“they have a million!” you whispered. “they won’t notice this one. please it’s from greece it’ll look cute on my fridge!”
megumi sipped his lemonade and gave you a half lidded look as you both sat in a booth.
“i don’t know if anyone has ever told you this but.” he gently slid the coffee cake closer to you, silently ushering you to eat. “that’s called stealing.”
“not if they don’t notice.”
megumi gave you an amused smile.
“i’ll take one for you too!”
“for me?”
“yeah!” you put your elbow on the table and propped your chin on your palm, tilting your head with the cutest expression megumi has ever seen in his fucking life.
“i’d do anything for you.”
his cheeks flooded pink, and he swallowed thickly.
megumi would do anything for you.
“i appreciate that pretty baby,” he murmured, tenderly tracing the pad of his index finger mindlessly around the back of your hand.
“great! so can i do it?”
“no.”
“maaannnn!” you slumped over the table and pouted. “you’re no fun.”
he chuckled and took a bite out of his ham and cheese deli, your mannerisms sometimes reminding him of his dad.
he swallowed.
“gojo wants to meet you.”
you froze. “really? he does?”
megumi nodded.
“okay! that’s okay— wait no! wait—” you groaned and leaned against the booth. “i don’t think he’s gonna like me very much…”
“huh?” his eyebrows furrowed. “why do you say that?”
you peered up at him sheepishly. “because i talk too much… i’m not gonna notice and end up telling him my lore, my school gpa, and my social security number.”
megumi laughed, and your heart fluttered at the sight of his crinkling eyes and gorgeous smile, the sound of it making you swoon.
he shook his head and rubbed his sleepy eyelids. “no baby... he’d love you. i know he would.”
“i don’t know gumi…” you sighed, looking down at your lap. “i want to meet him of course! that’s a given… but..”
megumi quirked a brow. “but?”
“i just don’t want to look stupid…” you laughed nervously. “it’s happened before where my friends parents say i’m a blabber mouth and i don’t want to embarrass you—”
his tired eyes narrowed. “blabber mouth? who’s saying you’re a blabber mouth?”
“my— my ex boyfriend in high school…” you cowered a little. “but it’s okay because i was over sharing!—”
“no.” he said firmly, his gaze looking directly into yours. “you’re not a blabbermouth. there’s a difference between being really open and friendly with people right off the bat and being a blabbermouth.”
megumi shook his head in annoyance. how could someone ever say you were a blabbermouth? he had never heard something that was so far from the truth.
you were too sweet for your own good, that was your only fault. you considered everyone you met a close friend of yours and weren’t afraid to tell them whatever came to your precious mind and made them feel welcome— something that megumi adored so much about you… so much, and something that made him borderline violent when people berated you for it.
“they just can’t handle it when someone is actually genuine. like you. and that’s not your fault.”
the shiniest smile grew on your face then, your eyes sparkling and feeling like a million fucking butterflies were fluttering all over your tummy— internally screaming at his words.
“thank you gumi…” you spoke softly. “i’m glad at least you don’t see an issue with it.”
“i don’t.” he shook his head. “i don’t at all.”
he loved it.
the rest of your lunch date was spent with megumi still not letting you steal the greece trinket magnet from the wall, you scolding him for the bags under his eyes, and him buying you two more slices of coffee cake to go no matter how many times you told him it was okay, the both of you gathering your things and going back to his car after a bit for him to drop you off back home.
“i’ll be here in the morning to take you to class.” he said gently, turning the corner and nearing your street.
“what? isn’t the division series game tomorrow?” you asked, taken aback. “gumi no just get as much sleep as you can it’s a big day. i can take myself.”
he looked at you boredly.
“no.”
“guumiii!”
he pulled into your driveway and shifted his gear into park, the corners of his mouth turned upward into a little goofy grin.
“i can take you baby it’s fine,” he pushed gently. “don’t worry.”
“you’ve been stressed though… and tired.”
you unbuckled your seatbelt and reached over, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him in as he immediately leaned in and tucked his face into your neck, breathing in your honeyed perfume and letting himself slump into your soft frame.
“please promise me that after the division series, you’ll rest up like crazy before the league championships.” he pulled back slightly to look at you, his eyes nearly closing as he sleepily blinked. “okay?”
“league championships? didn’t know we already won.” he murmured.
you giggled. “obviously. you’re my cool baseball man, are you not?”
he tiredly grinned and pressed a sweet sweet kiss to your cheek, him biting down on it after and making you yelp before snickering and pulling away.
“bye gumi,” you quickly grabbed a slice of coffee cake and placed it on his leg. “here eat this on the way home so you don’t fall asleep.”
he chuckled and watched as you grabbed your things, hopped out, and ran across the front of his car, leaning your head in through his open window once you reached him and pressing your soft lips to his, megumi fucking melting at the feeling.
you pulled apart and he pecked you one last time— a series of i love you’s iterated before you backed away and waved excitedly from your front door, him waiting until you were inside to reverse, his engine roaring and his black car shining against the moonlight as he sped down the street.
the next morning you got up around the time that you usually did, showered and did your hair and got ready for class, packed your school bag and made your bed—
but megumi hadn’t texted you. like at all.
he usually sent you a good morning text, followed by him letting you know when he was leaving the house, followed by when he was on his way, and followed by when he was just down the street and pulling up.
except you got nothing.
you figured maybe today was just one of those days where he maybe just simply forgot and was already on his way, but as you stood literally outside of your house, gnawing on your thumb and the time coming painfully close to the start of your morning class as you still got nothing from megumi (even when you had texted him multiple times at this point), you started shitting it.
just as you were about to run inside to get the keys to your car, your phone buzzed as a picture of you and megumi flashed across the screen.
megumi!
“hel—”
“baby!—” he breathed out, frantic. “baby i’m sorry i’m so sorry i’m coming okay im down the street—”
“what happened?” you breathed out worriedly, your heart hammering against your chest.
“i overslept!—” he explained quickly. “i’m late to the team’s call time and— and you’re late to class and i— fuck!”
you heard his horn blare and his tires screech as muffled curses flew from his mouth, you jumping at the noise.
“sorry sorry someone cut me off i’m almost there—”
“no gumi go straight to the stadium you’re late!” you spoke firmly. “i can take myself—”
“no but i wanted to see you before the game—”
“it’s fine we can see each other after the game okay? when you win—” you grabbed your keys from the coffee table by your door and ran out, unlocking your car and getting in. “you’re late baby so fucking late please turn back this isn’t good coach is gonna chew you out—”
“shit! i know i know—”
“go gumi hang up it’s okay!”
“okay.. fuck okay okay—”
you heard rustling on the other line before he spoke again.
“i love you i’m sorry ill see you after!”
and the line went dead.
you slugged through the rest of your classes as the day felt way fucking longer than it normally did, you desperately just wanting to see megumi and know that he was okay, that he wasn’t in trouble with his coach and the management team for being over an hour late to the division series call time, you on the verge of literal tears multiple times over him.
your best friend and you had planned to get ready for the game together and sport your men’s jerseys from the stands— a girl’s night you were agonizingly looking forward to all freaking month, and so so excited that the day was finally here to support and be present for the making of yet another year for the boys’ team.
“and then he hung up. i thought he was gonna get into a wreck man—”
you ran your fingers through your styled hair in your vanity mirror, your best friend readjusting her jersey behind you— ‘itadori’ in big capital letters on the back.
“megumi is the most hard headed mean stubborn man i have ever come across in my life.” she searched around in her makeup bag, pulling out her lip liner and reapplying next to you. “i don’t know how many times you told him to sleep and get some rest. and yuji too! he hasn’t stopped talking about him since the schedule change and now i’m starting to think he’s in love with him.”
you laughed loudly.
“i know…” you sighed anxiously through your nose, nervous clammy jitters in your chest. “his eye bags have gotten so bad this past week.”
“i think it’s because he’s been practicing over time.”
you stopped.
“what do you mean?”
she looked at you quizzically. “i thought you knew? yuji told me that the higher ups had a meeting with megumi and told him that they were expecting him to bring the world series home.”
she popped the lid back on her lip liner and threw it in her bag. “he practices all night on the field until like four am.”
“what the fuck?” your eyes narrowed. “he never told me that? he picks me up for my seven am class everyday… that means he’s only been getting what— like two and a half hours of sleep this past week?”
she stopped. “he didn’t tell you?”
“no!” you exclaimed. “when was this meeting?”
“at the start of last week.”
“oh my god.” you grumbled.
why didn’t he tell you?
“that’s fucked up.” she shook her head. “talk to him about that after babe… i don’t know why this man didn’t tell you something like that.”
“i would’ve never let him pick me up for class if i knew this was going on…” you gloomily fiddled with the buttons on your jersey. “or hang out with me after practice.”
and why the hell were the higher ups demanding so much from megumi? why were they burning him out with a responsibility so huge as to ensuring the success of the team for the world series? that wasn’t fair to him. that wasn’t fair at all.
your girl friend hugged you comfortingly.
“it’s fine don’t worry about it okay?… just talk to him after.”
once at the stadium, you and your best friend squeezed and pushed through the crowd to get to the v.i.p. section, the both of you sweating and panting over having run across the stadium’s parking lot and the main area, all because your best friend couldn’t decide which way to do her hair, and because you couldn’t decide if you should wear a skirt or jeans.
you ended up choosing for each other and calling it a day.
“hey! you guys!”
you both snapped your heads up and you recognized the source of the voice as one of the assistant crew members of the team, jogging up to you guys with two devices in his hands.
“you guys want these radios or are you good? they’re connected to the announcers and have earbuds!”
“oh i’ll take one! thank you!” you answered politely, smiling as he passed you and your best friend a radio.
you pushed the earbud into your left ear and sat.
the crowd was buzzing and cheering with excitement, flashes of light shimmering throughout the sold out stadium as many held up posters and signs or bobble heads, you smiling wide every time you spotted a few of megumi’s face and name.
the air was warm, and every kind of news reporter, publicist, and journalist was present on the sidelines as they filmed and interviewed several players from the opposing team.
“let’s play ball!”
the crowed roared, claps and whistles ringing through the air as yuji walked out from the dugout, the both of you screaming as the rest of the team followed suit, your shoulders evidently relaxing at the sight of megumi jogging out into position looking absolutely jaw dropping in his clean cut uniform and cap, serious and focused.
as the game ensued, it was no surprise that the boys’ team was absolutely demolishing the opposing players, megumi doing fucking stellar out on the field as he caught ball after ball with his glove, the announcers commentary certainly helping with explaining the context of the game due to your lack of knowledge, but you trying your hardest anyways to understand on your own.
and finally after a while of switching sides and megumi hitting like a greek god, the teams switched sides what seemed like the final time since it was almost the nine inning, his turn to hit.
“walking up to base now… number eighteen— megumi fushiguro!”
the crowd went fucking insane as he walked up, you immediately standing and screaming over the railing as he took his position up there— swinging soft faux hits before properly adjusting his footing on the loose dirt, fans waving around their fushiguro banners or his baseball cards as he settled.
the bags under his eyes…
you gnawed anxiously at your bottom lip. his team was so close to moving on to the league championships…
“and the pitcher throws….”
hit!
“strike one!”
megumi screwed his eyes shut and grimaced, shaking his head furiously as he shook the nerves from his body and wiped the sweat from his forehead with his sleeve.
“oh!” the announcers groaned. “looks like megumi fushiguro missed a hit for the first time in history!”
for the first time?
you whipped your head around to face your girl friend. “for the first time?”
she looked at you with the same terrorized expression.
“fuck i knew he always hit but i didn’t know he never missed…” you whined worriedly. “he’s exhausted man i can see it look—”
megumi’s footing slightly slipped from the dirt as he positioned himself, getting ready for the next swing.
“and the pitcher throws again…”
hit!
“strike two!”
“fuck!” megumi roared, walking off the home plate and chucking his bat to the wall— the wood flying and clattering as it hit the ground, your eyes widening in horror.
“woah looks like fushiguro got another strike and.. needs to take a breather off the field..?”
“if megumi doesn’t get this next hit, they’re done!” your girl friend shook her head, eyes wide and afraid. “the other team is gonna take it!”
you ran your fingers through your hair exasperatedly, frantically looking at the scoreboard and back at megumi who was pacing a little off the plate with his head down, his hands on his hips.
“fushiguro!” you spotted yuji yelling from the dugout. “get back on the plate! we could get flagged!”
megumi’s chest heaved as he picked up his bat and wiped off the dirt, walking back over to the home plate and repositioning himself.
cameras flashed and recorded as he tried to get back into focus, news reporters talking their asses off and journalists scribbling god knows what— as they just earned themselves their biggest headline of the season.
megumi fushiguro missed his first hit in playing history.
“and the pitcher throws…”
hit!
“oh there it goes! looks like a fair ball!”
the crowd rallies as megumi books it over the first two bases, everyone watching as the ball hits over the outfield fence as he fucking dashes across the remaining two bases like nothing, earning himself a home run—
and scoring a spot in the league championship games for his team.
you and your best friend jump for complete joy, throwing your arms around each other and swaying as fans all around you celebrated and cheered just like the both of you, you happily watching the players from the dugout run up and engulf megumi in a group hug, jumping and laughing.
as the crowd began to disperse and take leave, you both quickly ran down the steps and to the field, you immediately spotting megumi and running up to him with your arms out.
“gumi!”
he noticed you and extended his arms, but his face read nothing as you jumped into them.
“good job good job! you did so amazing!”
“nice fushiguro!” yuji nudged his shoulder. “you brought us through!”
“i missed the first two hits.”
he set you back down.
yuji shrugged. “so? it happens. i do it all the time! you made a home run and scored us the league.”
megumi only silently nodded, his face to the ground as you told yuji and your best friend that you would see them in the locker rooms with everybody else.
and once everyone had cleared out from the field, you turned to him.
“hey…” you started. “what’s wrong?”
his eyes remained glued to the dirt.
“i missed the first two hits.”
your shoulders deflated. “you heard what yuji said… it’s okay. it was bound to happen but it’s fine because you fixed it—”
“we were on thin fucking ice today.”
his snippy tone took you by surprise a bit.
“yes… but you made it...” you responded softly. “you all pulled through. especially you.”
he scoffed and shook his head, him finally raising his baggy eyes and looking to the side, pissed.
“i almost cost us the league. that’s what i did.”
“gumi—” you exhaled a frustrated breath. “you literally played like a machine the entire time and had other hits that were amazing? i don’t understand why two little strikes—”
his eyes snapped to yours. “two little strikes?” he shook his head again. “two strikes too fucking many.”
“what is your issue?—”
“my issue is that if i fucked up that third hit it would’ve been all over. we would’ve lost the division, lost the league, and lost the world series, all because i don’t know how to fucking play ball—”
“yes you do! you’re being way too hard on yourself baby you need to take a breather and rest—”
“how many times have you nagged me about that already.” he spat.
you froze.
“nagged?” you repeated softly.
“yes. you’ve told me enough times i get it i need rest, i need sleep, i need this i need that—”
“i’m saying that because look at you!” you motioned with your hands, feeling potential tears prickling at the back of your eyes at the way he was speaking to you. “your under eyes are dark and purple, your eyes are red you look exhausted!”
“and i told you i’m fine!” he raised his voice a bit. “you wouldn’t understand the shit that i have to do for this team the shit i have to pull and i gave them absolute garbage today—”
“oh my god megumi!” you snapped. “your team is a team effort! it’s not just you! you’re not the only one pulling the stops so enough with trying to take on this load and overwork yourself! please you played amazing today everyone was cheering so loud for you and—”
“stop talking.”
you paused.
“just—” he rubbed his tired eyes and turned to the side. “just please stop talking.”
stop… talking?
he struck a chord, and you felt your heart literally break at his words, an aching heavy pit in your chest as you recounted his yelling and snappiness when all you were trying to do was help him.
thats all you’ve ever tried to do for megumi really— help him, support him, and love him. but for him to throw it all back in your face and say you didn’t understand? for you to basically shut up?
tears were slipping past your eyes at this point, and when you felt like megumi finally bothered to look at you in the face, his eyes widened and his shoulders dropped.
“baby—”
“and what about you?”
he stopped. “about me—”
“yes about you. you’re saying i don’t understand anything you’re fucking going through, as if i haven’t followed you through your career since the moment we met and before that, like i haven’t supported you on the sidelines and asked you question after question about your games just so i can fucking understand—”
“no i—”
you cut him off. “and then you’re here— yelling at me, telling me off, and telling me to shut up when i’m the only one fucking standing here with you after the game trying to be there for you?!—”
“baby— fuck i’m sorry okay i didn’t mean—”
you laughed bitterly. “you didn’t mean it. didn’t mean what? to accidentally let it slip that you actually do think i’m a blabbermouth?”
he was taken aback as his eyebrows furrowed, shaking his head desperately. “no— no that’s not what i meant at all y/n i’m sorry. i’ve been so stressed and tired and i’m taking it all out on you right now and— and that’s not okay and not an excuse.”
megumi quickly stepped forward and placed his hands on your face, but you pushed him away, hurt flashing across his eyes as you did so.
“and why didn’t you tell me about the meeting huh? the one with the higher ups last week?”
surprise crossed his face. “how did you—”
“doesn’t matter how i heard it. why didn’t you tell me? do you understand how that makes me feel when i have to find out through someone else and not my own boyfriend?”
he ran a hand through his spiky black hair and sighed exhaustedly.
“i didn’t tell you because i knew you would be upset about it and i didn’t want you to worry—”
“so you just chose to keep it from me that’s real nice.” you spat. “of course i wouldn’t be happy with it they’re stripping you down and exploiting you! how could they say that it’s all on you to bring it home for the world series? do you understand how insane that sounds?”
“i know but i can’t tell them anything i just have to say yes!” he explained.
“you have every right to tell them something! and if you would’ve communicated this with me like you should’ve done, i wouldn’t have let you lose so much sleep over me and maybe you wouldn’t have played the way you think you played, and you wouldn’t be standing here shitting all over me!”
he really struck a chord.
“y/n—”
“bye megumi.”
his breath hitched.
“no— hey don’t do that—”
he scrambled after you as you made your way out of the field, him quickly catching up and tugging you into him with his long arms around your shoulders, bringing your back to his front as he ducked his face down.
“let’s fix it please we need to fix this—”
“i want to be alone right now, megumi.” you mumbled.
god he hated how many times you’ve called him that already tonight, feeling like the biggest asshole to ever grace your precious life.
“no i don’t want you to be upset with me please—”
“we can talk later on the phone.” your tone was lifeless. “i just need to be alone.”
he faltered, feeling gutting pain cascade all over his body as he hesitantly, slowly, slipped his arms away and released you.
“o—okay.”
he watched you walk up the stands and to the exit as you clutched yourself, his eyes catching the back of your jersey reading his last name that sent an immediate pang through his chest, your frame disappearing from his view and leaving him in his stupid thoughts as he snatched his cap off from his head and threw it to the side in frustration.
that night megumi tried to call you but you didn’t pick up, you barely even answering his texts as he wallowed in self pity alone in his apartment.
and you hadn’t stopped crying since the moment your tears hit on the field— hurt and exhausted and guilty as you settled into bed, unable to bring yourself to call him and go through with your word, deciding to text instead.
(you): i’m really tired i’m sorry. i’ll see if i can call you in the morning.
megumi took no time at all to respond.
(gumi <3): can i take you to class tomorrow?
(you): i don’t think that’s a good idea
he swallowed the lump in his throat and fought back the urge to fight it, wanting to respect you and your space.
but you only kept crying.
(gumi <3): okay
(you): goodnight
(gumi <3): goodnight pretty baby
just as you were about to place your phone back on your nightstand, it buzzed again.
(gumi <3): i love you i’m sorry
you sniffled and put your phone away officially, choosing not to respond.
the following week leading up to the league championship game, megumi spent every waking moment trying to make it up to you, trying to fix it, but you only seemed to stay away from him and distance yourself, something that hurt megumi like no other.
you felt like it was your fault he played the way he did that day. if you had been smarter, more mindful, you would’ve noticed that the intensity of his exhaustion was extremely abnormal, and perhaps you could’ve done something about it before it was too late and saved yourself the dreadful fight you had with him.
you hated the way you spoke to him, and you fully convinced yourself that you only served as a distraction for him, opting to keeping your distance as far away as possible so it allowed megumi to get his head focused again and ensure a promised route to the world series— something you had hoped to be there to witness, but deeming his success way more important than your needs at this point in time.
so you stopped going to all of his practices following that day, the fact tormenting megumi as you always went to each and every single one and was there for him without fault— rain or shine, always waiting for him in the locker rooms when he was finished.
but you weren’t there anymore. and each day you weren’t was another day megumi would spend angry and frustrated with himself that he did what he did. he knew your defense mechanism was pushing people away, and your current behavior gave him flashbacks to the time last year when he was falling for you and you kept running away from him, scared— those actions a carbon copy of what’s happening now, except far worse.
and he did that to you. he yelled at you and snapped at you, told you to stop talking for some fucking reason that he still couldn’t find the proper explanation for… and he made you cry. so much. your usual sweet honeyed voice you spoke to him with long gone since that day.
and he missed you. more than anything.
“you stupid—” throw “self absorbed—” throw “asshole—” throw “narcissistic—” throw—
“okay that’s enough that’s enough!”
yuji pulled your best friend back as she chucked towel after towel at megumi following one of their practices, her absolutely fuming.
he took every hit, not bothering to dodge. he deserved it.
“she told me what you did—” she shook herself away from yuji’s grip. “what the hell is the matter with you? how could you yell at her like that on the field? when all she’s ever done is love you—”
“i know.” megumi mumbled, rubbing his eyes. “i know i’m really sorry. i regret it.”
“fuck yeah you should,” she scoffed. “that woman’s been cooped up every day in her room bawling her eyes out over you!”
yuji nodded sadly, and megumi let out a pained breath as he closed his eyes and covered his face with his hands, propping his elbows on his knees, leaning forward.
“fuck me…”
“yeah fuck you—”
“okay! okay. he’s already down let him bleed out.” yuji muttered to her as he rubbed his hands over her arms soothingly, an attempt at calming her down.
he looked at him. “megumi, you and i both know that she understands you were frustrated that day. the both of you. if you just talk to her—”
“you think i haven’t tried?” megumi picked his head up, and the both of them froze at the way his eyes glossed over.
“i’ve— i’ve called her, i’ve texted her, i drove by her house but she’s never there, fuck i even went to her campus at seven in the morning but couldn’t find her.”
he took his cap off and roughly rubbed over his eyes again.
your best friend sighed then after a moment, slowly stepping forward and sitting down next to him on the bench.
“she’ll come around megumi.” she mumbled. “just give her some time. i know it’s hard, but she really really loves you.” she sighed deeply. “she’ll come around.”
megumi nodded solemnly, and yuji stepped forward, patting his shoulder.
“you okay man?”
he nodded again.
missed phone calls, lagging dry texts, and last minute cancellations from you all happened for a week straight.
and when the time finally came for the league championships, megumi wanted nothing more than for you to be there as he stared at his messy fucking locker when prepping for the game— another reminder that you hadn’t been around, and another reminder that you wouldn’t be here tonight to see him, something he completely did not blame you for.
luckily, the league championship game was at their home base once more, and as the crowd got settled to watch, energies heightened as the players all got settled over the field to play ball— megumi shook the nerves from his body as he focused with the game, and you, on his mind like a religion.
and as the game ran on with the team scoring run after run, another win was blatantly obvious for them— megumi entirely unaware of your presence that was watching him the entire time in the stands.
you couldn’t help yourself. you needed to be there to watch him, needed to see him take home another achievement like that, regardless of where you both stood as you watched from just above the v.i.p section, shivering like an idiot because you forgot to bring a jacket after deciding to wear a flowy tube top for the day, but excited for him nonetheless.
you didn’t tell a single soul you were coming, not even your best friend as you just wanted to see megumi again before running off into the shadows of your embarrassing despair, missing him like fucking crazy and nearly sobbing when you saw him walk out on the field at the start, but even more emotional to the fact that they were actually going to move on to the world series by the looks of it.
and the crowd hollered eventually as the speakers blasted megumi’s teams signature song—
finalizing their spot in the world series.
your eyes glowed as you watched his team run up on the field and tackle each other down, literally rolling in the dirt as you giggled to yourself— sighing contently and about to turn and walk out of the stadium to go home when a strong rough hand wrapped around your bare upper arm.
“you’re fushiguro’s girl! aren’t you?”
you snapped your head up and saw someone you recognized as one of megumi’s crew members for the team, and you relaxed, trusting him.
“oh! yeah i am!”
“sweet! i just got hired to be on the crew a couple of weeks ago.”
“that’s great!” you answered politely, smiling. “how is—”
“listen i was wondering if i could get any tickets to the world series from you?”
what.
“um—” your eyes darted around awkwardly. “for— for the world series?—”
“yeah! i took this job so i could get some but apparently i need to be working longer than three weeks. dumb.”
you gnawed at the inside of your cheek as your eyes drifted downward to your arm.
he still hadn’t let go.
“oh i’m sorry.” you mumbled. “i could— i could maybe get you one? one for sure!”
he shook his head. “shit sorry, i need like five.”
“five?!” you gawked. “i can’t get you five i’m really sorry… i can only maybe get you one.”
his eyes narrowed. “why not? you’re fushiguro’s girl are you not?”
“yes but what does that have to do with me getting you tickets to the world series?” you spoke nervously, trying to put on a brave front as his height literally towered over you.
“why don’t you ask him for tickets? he’s literally megumi fushiguro i’m sure he can cough up some—”
you scoffed.
“i’m not gonna ask him anything for you just because you want to use me to get tick—”
“so then what the fuck are you with him for?” his grip tightened around your arm as he pulled you a little, and you winced.
“let go of me!—”
megumi considered himself a relatively calm person throughout his life.
he knew he had his explosive rude moments here and there, him also accidentally offending people unknowingly with his words, but that behavior only stayed on the field as it pertained to the game at hand or with baseball itself, his life outside of that a treasured tranquil one as he spent his days with you and only you, something he looked forward to every waking moment since the day he met you.
but as he heard your little voice through the yelling of the crowd, instantly recognizing it and picking up on its distressed demeanor— his body did a full one-eighty as his eyes frantically searched for you through the mass of people.
and once he did spot you? your breathtaking little self being manhandled by some fucking moron who had his hand around your upper arm?
he didn’t consider himself a relatively calm person anymore.
megumi quickly snatched his cap off and passed it to a confused yuji and your best friend, sprinting at the speed of light across the field and to the fence of the v.i.p. section before hoisting himself up and climbing, jumping over once he reached the top and landing on the stands— him running up a few steps before finally reaching you and tearing the guy off.
“get the fuck off.”
he gently pushed you behind him, his chest heaving.
“the shit are you doing hurting her arm like that for huh?!” megumi stepped forward.
“hey! hey i’m sorry man i— i didn’t know i was hurting her—”
“sure you fucking did she was literally telling you to let go and you were throwing her around like—”
“megumi please—”
“are you part of the crew?”
“y—yeah?”
“you’re gone. you’re fired you’re—”
“wait i’m sorry! i was just trying to get tickets to the world series—”
megumi’s eyes blew open, wild and infuriated.
“that’s why you were grabbing her like that? you were harrassing her for some fucking ticke— you know what—”
megumi stepped forward before you could stop him as he reeled his fist back and knocked him straight in the jaw, the guy stumbling back a bit and the crowd gasping before megumi spun around and grabbed your legs, throwing you over his shoulder.
“get the fuck out of my way.”
the small crowd that stuck around for the altercation parted with no questions asked, his long legs striding over across the exit and to the teams now vacant locker room— kicking the door open before gently setting you down on your feet.
he ran his hands over your soft hair frantically as he grabbed your cheeks and checked you over, your teary doe eyes breaking him apart.
“hey are you okay? are you fine?”
megumi let go of your face and gently lifted your upper arm, his eyes hardening at the purple forming bruise from that dickwads hand.
“he’s gone he’s gone—”
you lunged and wrapped your arms around his waist tightly as he started to charge back out, pulling him back.
“no! stop it’s okay you already hit him i think he got the message.” you mumbled, letting him go.
megumi turned to you then, his eyes softening over your timid sad frame as you played with your fingers, gaze down.
“y/n.”
“hm?”
he frowned.
“can you please look at me.”
you listened reluctantly and peered up at him.
he exhaled. “baby i— i’m sorry. i’m so fucking sorry for everything that i said to you that night. i meant none of it. nothing. i was just angry at myself and stressed and stupid and i hate that i talked to you like that and took it out on you. you didn’t deserve that at all.”
you hurriedly wiped your silent tears— nodding, but saying nothing.
he leaned down to look at you at eye level.
“are you okay?”
you nodded again and sniffled.
“talk baby.” he pleaded with you gently, eyes sad. “tell me, please.”
you cowered a little as you finally broke into tiny sobs, your hands hovering over your face to hide your tears as he placed his big hands on your upper arms, megumi feeling like he just got run over by an entire military tank at the sight of you crying because of him.
“i—i’m sorry i yelled at you—” you hiccuped. “i was so mean and i f—feel really bad—”
“baby why are you apologizing?” he shook his head. “it’s me it’s all me i’m the one who was mean to you—”
“no but—” you sniffled. “you were just stressed from the game like you said and that’s fine i should’ve been more aware. i didn’t mean to upset you with me talking—”
“oh pretty baby..” he breathed out, agonizingly, megumi literally beating himself up. “remember when i said one time you were too nice for your own good?”
you nodded.
“this is one of those moments. you should be yelling at me and throwing things at me like your best friend did.”
your eyebrows furrowed as you sniffled. “she— she did?”
“she did.” he nodded. “rightfully so.”
you giggled a little, and he smiled softly.
“i’m sorry i distanced myself the way i did…” you mumbled, a waterfall of tears coming down again. “i just thought that i was a distraction and— and i wanted you to focus.”
“a distraction?” he murmured. “y/n you are never a distraction.”
“no but at the end of the day i was…” you sobbed. “you need to be there for your team you have—“ hic! “you have responsibilities and i don’t want you to put me above that and— and keep hanging out with me when you have so much to do—”
“something you need to understand is that i’m replaceable.” he cut you off, tone firm. “the minute they find some other dude that’s way better than me and quicker than me and they draft his ass over to the team? they are going to replace me faster than you will ever think. that’s just the way jobs are. i’m replaceable no matter how much you wanna think it’s not true.”
he shook his head, his face pained. “but you are not. you’re not fucking replaceable there is no other you. you are my life now baby. yes my career is a priority, but so are you, and i would rather them replace me than lose you entirely.”
he wiped the tears from your cheeks, your doe eyes wide.
“i appreciate that you care so much and you support me and that you want me to devote all of my time to only this— you’re an angel on earth for all of that… but as your man i’m telling you that all of my time is devoted to you now, not just baseball.”
you wrapped your arms around his neck and tugged him closer to you, tight, him immediately reciprocating and snaking his arms around your waist.
he could finally breathe.
“do you understand?” he murmured softly, rubbing his hands over your back soothingly.
you nodded.
“but you can’t— wear yourself out like you did okay?” you sniffled. “you can’t let them push you and tire you out… and please listen when we say for you to rest…”
“i know i’m sorry. i’ll listen next time baby i promise.”
“i get you trying to improve for yourself and push your limits… but— but there’s a difference between wanting to better your play and straight up wearing yourself down.”
you pulled back a little to look at him, wiping your tears and hiccuping. “and i worry man… i worry so much because i—“ hic! “i love you and i always think about if you’re eating right or— or getting enough sleep—”
his heart literally melted as he felt the remains of it ooze and spread all over his body and insides, your pure sweet concerns tugging at him and turning him into absolute putty before you.
he tightened his grip around your waist and lifted you, gently rocking your bodies as you sniffled and cried, his eyes screwed shut and feeling every possible emotion a human being could ever feel… but feeling love most of all.
love for you. love for who you are.
megumi kissed your wet cheek delicately and let his lips linger there as he spoke.
“i’m in love with you…” he murmured. “i hope you know that.”
your heart fluttered and you nodded, a little smile playing at your face.
“i’m in love with you too gumi.” you hummed, pressing a sweet kiss of your own to his cheek.
he set you back down and cupped your cheeks, slowly leaning in and pressing light tender kisses to your lips, his mouth completely savoring over the taste of yours as he had been deprived of them for a freaking week— feeling like his dried up soul had been rejuvenated and made anew.
and you felt the same way… because you deepened the kiss, picked up the pace, pulled him closer until his chest was flush against yours and your hot breaths were mixed together in a misty cloud, megumi breathing heavily through his nose as he ran his needy desperate hands over your delicious body.
he trailed wet open mouthed kisses on your cheek, jaw, and all the way down to the side of your exposed neck, his hand supporting the other side as he feverishly licked a slow long stripe of spit up your neck with his rough tongue, your fists gripping the sides of his jersey as he nibbled and bit, his lips finally coming to enclose and suck around a certain spot as your breath hitched at how frenzied and sloppy he was being, drool practically running down your neck as he ravished, bit, and sucked over multiple areas.
you shoved your hands down his pants suddenly, and he choked in surprise as his hips thrusted forward, your fingers pumping and palming his hardened cock slowly as his breath shuddered against your neck.
“baby...” he murmured.
“hm?”
“how would you feel if i turned on the shower and fucked my cock in your pretty little cunt for a bit in there huh?…”
a needy whimper slipped past your lips against his ear, and he grew weak.
“is that okay—”
“more than okay—”
you squealed as he wasted no time in picking you up again and walking over to the showers, the both of you clumsily tearing off your clothes as megumi fumbled with the shower switch until luke warm water spritzed from above— entrapping the both of you in a humid trance as megumi squeezed your bare thighs and ushered you to jump, you doing so immediately and wrapping your legs around his waist.
he stepped in and literally slammed the shower door shut, the two of you giggling a little as the soothing water washed over your panting bodies, the sight of his handsome bright face making your cheeks flush and bury your face in his neck in response.
he chuckled softly, gently setting your back against the wet tile wall before kissing you again and again, his mouth messy against your puffy lips as he tried to drink up all that you gave him, the tip of his cock slipping past your folds and brushing against your swollen clit— each time making you squeak and jump.
you didn’t care about anything, your mind reeling and just wanting megumi’s dick inside of you as soon as possible, knowing that you’d never really had sex before and literally not giving a single shit because it was him— someone you trusted the most out of anyone in your life, and someone you wanted to give your all to no matter the circumstance.
he lined his fat tip then against your drooling hole.
“wait! wait the door—“ you gripped his shoulders for support. “the door did you lock it?”
“nope.”
megumi pushed his cock in slowly and gently, your choked gasps and moans echoing inside the shower as his head fell to rest in the crook of your hickey covered neck, him groaning in ecstasy as your gummy warm pussy strangled his dick to the tightest degree, already previously so wet and gushy that it thankfully barely hurt you at all as he bottomed out.
“fuuuckk— you’re warm.” he murmured, gripping your hips like a vice and softly caressing his thumb against your slippery skin to soothe you— hoping (but not really), you’d maybe release the clutch your pussy had on his dick to stop him from already shooting his cum all over your insides like a loser.
he slowly drew his hips back and fucked into you again, you jolting at the force as you fumbled to keep your grip steady on his shoulders, his cock fucking thick and massive as his little curve poked deliciously at your cervix, him gradually increasing his pace as you shuddered over the quick pat pat pat’s echoing through the walls.
“g—gumiii..” you whined.
“what baby?” he mumbled breathlessly, his eyes glued to where his dick connected with your hole as it slipped in and out lewdly, your pussy literally squelching and screaming for him with your bouncing tits in his face that made him clench his jaw in self restraint— trying his hardest not to fucking ram into you like nothing and take you.
“y—you’re biigg!” you hiccuped, your little gasps of breath enticing droplets of cum to leak out of his tip and ooze out of your little wet folds, megumi moaning at your words.
“yeah?” pat pat pat— “s’too much for you baby?”
he picked up the pace, on purpose as he meanly bounced you on his cock and shot his hips up against your pussy, his big heavy balls slapping against your ass and making your eyes fucking cross at the feeling.
“tell me you love me.” he panted. “now.”
“i—“ hic! “i love you—”
megumi grabbed your cheeks with his fingers and mushed them together, grinning deviously at the way your pouty lips pushed out cutely.
“how much.”
“s—so- ah!— so much gumi—”
“more— shit!” he choked, a particular squeeze from your abused cunt almost making him finish. “m— more than anything?”
slap slap slap—
“y—yes!—” you could barely even speak due to the erotic hold he had on your face. “i love you i love you i love—”
you squealed as he let go of your face, gave into his desires and rammed into you, both hands on your bruised hips as he gave your pussy no room to breathe with how fast he was shoving his fat cock inside of you, pounding and pummeling into your guts as your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you felt your release build up in your tummy.
“why were you asking me about the door earlier huh?” he panted. “you don’t want anyone to see how much of a” thrust! “slut you are? your legs spread for me like this and your pretty pussy creaming on my dick?”
you whined and moaned so fucking loudly, it ringing through megumi’s ears like a wicked symphony.
he pinched your nipple when you didn’t respond.
“answer me.”
thrust thrust thrust—
“n—no i didn’t!”
“no?”
he gripped your neck and sloppily ran his mouth over yours, feeling his cum on the brink of shooting out.
“m’gonna cum inside.”
“in— mmphf!— inside?”
“you don’t want it?” he let go of your neck. “cause i won’t give it to you if you don’t want it—”
“i do i do!” you scrambled and cupped his cheeks, bringing his lips back in and kissing him messily.
“give it to me gumi please!—“ hic! “eeekkk!”
hot sticky cum pumped out of his tip and into your gushy walls, your high making your toes curl as you creamed around his heavy cock feverishly, megumi’s entire body fucking shivering at the way your pussy felt like it was entirely made and molded for him.
he softly pumped himself inside and out of you, his mouth hung open in a daze as he watched his white cum slide out of your pretty hole and over his still connected dick, gently easing out after a minute and carefully setting you back down— not completely though, as he knew you’d be sore as he leaned most if not all of your body weight against him.
you held each other in a tight embrace then, your heavy breaths trying to find its normal rhythm as the warm water continued to cascade down your bodies, comfortingly.
“why don’t we have sex more often...” you mumbled.
he laughed softly, pecking the side of your head. “i was waiting for you to tell me baby. i didn’t want to pressure you.”
“i was waiting for you to tell me.” you emphasized. “i didn’t want to jump on you and just violate you—”
megumi’s chest vibrated as he laughed again, a cute boyish one that made you bite your lip.
“violate me?” he murmured, an amused smile on his face. “i’d want you to.”
“yeah?” you tilted your head, and his cheeks grew hot.
“yeah.”
finally you and megumi were in sync again, going back into each other’s routines as if the week long hiccup never happened, the both of you officially unraveling the aching knots in your chests that you hauled for seven tormenting days straight— together and attached to the hip once again as he started picking you up for your seven am classes every morning like before, you going to his practices straight after, and spending your hours sleeping in his dark cozy room this time around, snoring your little life away so megumi could recover.
and eventually, the world series arrived.
“my camera! my camera! my digital one did i bring it?!”
you flipped your purse upside down and dumped all of your things on the floor— your lip combo, compact mirror, snacks, random receipts, and small perfume bottle rolling around on the ground until your digital camera was finally in view.
your best friend cackled as she crouched down and helped you pick up your things. “you were taking pictures up megumi’s nose on the two hour drive over here yes you brought it—”
“i know i forgot i’m so nervous what if they lose what if someone fumbles what if—”
you both stood as you rambled on and she placed both of her hands on your shoulders, shaking you. “calm down! they’ll be fine! win or lose they still made it to the world series!”
the crowd roared much like the past two games, except much heavier, louder, more drilling as the music drummed through your body, the air windy but refreshing, and high pitched whistles echoing from around the stadium as everyone anticipated for the biggest game of the season.
you had lost count how many different news stations were here broadcasting the game, how many reporters you saw scrambling across the field trying to interview certain players— you too busy taking pictures of every single little thing and the both of you reapplying your lip liners over a million fucking times— even flagging down a crew member so you could take a picture with just your best friend, your backs to the camera showcasing the last names of your boyfriend’s on your jersey’s.
and when the game officially commenced and the players all went out on the field— megumi and his team did what they always do best, taking control of the scoreboard and earning runs like chump change as they worked professionally to take the trophy home, you constantly snapping pictures of megumi that your digital camera ran out of fucking storage before you even got the shot that you wanted.
eventually after a while of playing, it was megumi’s turn to hit.
“fuck! record for me please record! my camera ran out of storage oh my god use my phone please i love you—”
your best friend laughed as she took your phone from you and did what you asked, your hands on the railing and leaning over it as you anxiously watched him walk up to home plate and take position.
but instead of doing his usual faux swings and repositioned footing, megumi stepped to the side and turned his bat downward, you unable to tell what he was doing as his frame was blocking, his arm moving in various directions before he stepped back again on the home plate and repositioned himself.
your eyes trailed to the ground.
megumi had carved your initials in the dirt.
your girl friend gasped and cooed. “y/nnn!”
as megumi now did his faux swings, your bottom lip only wobbled as your eyes stayed trained to the carvings in the dirt, your heart skipping a thousand beats per minute as the thought of megumi thinking about you out there during one of the most important nights of his life, made you question repeatedly how you ever landed a man like him when all you do is talk and cry.
hit!
your eyes snapped up and you quickly wiped the corners of your eyes, megumi already running across the first two bases as the crowd roared.
“bring it home fushiguro!”
several of his teammates were cheering him on from the dugout, megumi running four runs with just one fucking hit?—
a grand slam.
and suddenly you were taken back to the day you noticed megumi for the first time, just like now with your doe eyes wide and cheeks pink, recognizing the only piece of baseball terminology you knew besides a home run.
except then he was just a stranger you were hopelessly in love with that knew how to play ball like no other.
now though, he’s a man you couldn’t ever imagine your life without. and you didn’t want to.
so as the game reached nine innings, megumi’s team running on the field in a bundle of absolute tears and yells and hollers that they won the world fucking series, all clustering together as they hoisted several players up on their shoulders, including megumi—
you and your best friend instantly booked it down there in a fit of tears.
you had no time to get your personal belongings together as you sprinted across the field like your life fucking depended on it towards megumi— him being put down by his teammates and him frantically looking around after until he spotted you, the brightest smile spreading across his face as he chucked his cap to the side and opened his arms out wide for you.
you jumped in and he spun you around, holding you tight as the screaming crowd surrounding you drowned itself out as you cried into megumi’s neck.
he pulled back, panting.
“did you see how i did a grand slam?”
you nodded rapidly.
“i did it because i knew its the only thing you would recognize!” he yelled over the noise. “so you would feel included when we won!”
oh my god.
he still remembered when you told him that?
“guummiii! how did you even calculate that?!” you cried harder, and he laughed as he spread tiny kisses all over your teary face, his eyes glimmering with absolute unadulterated happiness and bliss, the reality of having the two things he wanted most in life settling into his mind.
megumi didn’t really have a stance on religion— whether the factor is real or not something he didn’t really care about nor mind as he simply just chose to live.
but as he held you on the field, you crying for him and embracing him the way that you were, kissing him the way that you were, megumi only wanted to be covered in your favor. megumi only wanted to devote his entire life to you.
megumi only wanted to believe in you.
••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
want more? you can find my mlb!megumi fushiguro masterlist here!
taglist!! <33 (THANK YOU THANK YOU!):
@cupcaketeddybehr @soobiary @roachfun @waterfal-ling @saebaey @hiraethwa @luvvmae @cake-with-the-cream @pixie-dix @vividl3ss
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matthewliberatore · 1 year
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july 26th stl cards vs arizona diamondbacks
i did not realize it was a day game today so i missed it all 😨
GORMAN 2 HOMERS GORMANIA IS REAL
nootbaar home run!! he's my guy!!
THIS WAS POSSIBLY FLAHERTY'S LAST START AS A CARDINAL AND THAT IS GOING TO MAKE ME CRY
if it's over at least it's been a good run jack
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mygnolia · 13 days
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YOU MAKE ME GO CRAZY OVER YOU !!
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୨୧ -› hey, that boy over there..isn't he the most popular student athlete on campus? how did you two meet, anyway?
pair -› jock/athlete! enhypen x fem! reader | wc -› 3.5k (700 per member) | no warnings! | library
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˚୨୧⋆。˚ ⋆ LEE HEESEUNG
im gonna sigh dreamily when i say he’s most DEF basketball captain. 
yes ik i wrote about this in wrong number i dont CARE i will say it with my whole chest 
DORK DORK DORK but cute dork with lethal face card. smirks after making yet another basket and winks at you
age old question how tf did yall meet!!! 
you pass by the gym and some guy on the way stops to talk to you 
like “hey i know you from somewhere”
“yes heeseung we were partners from a project two weeks ago how do you not remember..” 
he’s embarrassed asf especially because he remembers a lot of people’s names
after that he wants to be in your good graces and be friends
totally not because he remembered how you did a lot of the work for said project no complaints!!
and he doesn’t want you to rat him out to the teacher… or tell other people he’s not friendly
‘hey y/n, come to my game? i’ll do better if you’re there :)” 
you go only because you needed to complete an assignment while you were there at school anyways 
but sometimes you’d see him laughing with his friends, or how serious he is on court and woah, heeseung looks cool for once
you wait for him after because you figured he needed you for something 
“awh, you wanted for me?” “i could be doing much better things.” “awh, come on y/n let’s get some ice cream! my treat since we get to spend time together” 
he’s annoying but you let him tag around because he doesn’t bother you LOL
more under the cut!
drags you along when he practices alone so he can have some company
you like the company and the white noise too
you definitely doubt if he likes you because he is SUCH A FLIRT but no he DOES! he writes a confession on a basketball and ‘misses’ so you can catch it
you pass it back without seeing the message 
but heeseung keeps missing and it almost hits you on the head and you’re like ‘dude you SUCK hello??” he says ‘oh lol maybe it’s the ball” byee why was he smooth with it!!!!
you check the message and roll your eyes 
“if i make this you have to kiss me” you tell him and you’re about to shoot but he picks you up and brings you right next o the next to let you throw it in and then kisses u!!!!
not to be like oh im writing an smau on basketball captain heeseung but.. *tucks hair behind ear* 
most definitely tries to be mysterious and cool when you’re dating 
dribbles in front of you, trick shots, runs up to you when you’re alone, gives you one kiss between ever basket he makes 
teaches you how to play!!!!
ABSOLUTELY lights up when someones mentions you when you two date
“oh yeah my partner in math is ___” 
“omg ___?? the love of my life ___??” 
you lowk have to drag him away i fear 
˚୨୧⋆。˚ ⋆ PARK JONGSEONG 
baseball captain *faints* 
enhypen x mariners and him speaking in english…so you want me DECEASED 
baseball captain jay and you who attends his games because jake aka ur friend on the team knows you have nothing better to do 
“i bet you won’t make it even to five games before buying cotton candy” jake says because you have a MASSIVE sweet tooth 
you tried really hard because $15 and a burger was on the line 
and you kept coming because…well there was a cute captain who always knew how to rally his teammates and get them excited 
also great sportsmanship and was super friendly to everyone! 
definitely got mad when the umpire makes a wrong call 
sharp reaction times. EVEN SHARPER JAW. 
of course you stared! of course you were not paying attention to whatever jake was saying about his test after their game..how could you when jay was doing his lopsided smile as his friend pats him on the shoulder from ten feet away??
one time you come early because they’re practicing on the field and you see jay and jake passing to each other
jay just so effortlessly throwing the ball…oh my god
he’s just so perfect and jake cheers from the sidelines because he knows his captain pays attention to every single person who has stepped foot on the baseball field iNCLUDING YOU
you come up to jake after the fourth game, showing him you still had your $5 and your tongue wasn’t stained with any blue or pink
jay comes over, arm thrown around jake’s shoulder as he waves and smiles to you 
dark hair with a twinge of sweat as he runs a hand through it, pulling it back to place on his cap 
JAY IN A BASEBALL CAP *faints again*
he walks you out to the parking lot and asks what the $5 in your pocket is for because he keeps seeing you pull it out 
you explain your whole bet to him and he nods
next game. before it starts. he gets you cotton candy and makes sure it gets to you somehow 
you smile and you’re all giddy when you eat it because there’s a p.j. on the cap and he’s just so cute 
jake doesn’t say anything he already knows it’s happening between you two. 
jay finally writes on a baseball and tells you to catch, and it says ‘let’s date’ and you grab a sharpie and scribble ‘kiss me first’ 
OH YEAH HE WALKS OVER AND KISSES YOU. 
soon every game instead of cotton candy  it’s his baseball cap when it’s sunny, his jacket when you’re cold, baseballs with notes on them, and roses for his girlfriend aka youuuuu 
jay is such a romantic and he is not afraid to show it 
he orders custom jerseys that say jay/n on the back with the day you got together!!!!! 
BEST BOYFRIEND EVERRRRRR
˚୨୧⋆。˚ ⋆ SIM JAEYUN
rugby player jake but he has dark long hair let that settle in 
campus flirt campus playboy but in reality he doesn’t go on dates and nothing really happens past the smiles, he’s just super popular
you are also pretty well known! a little flirty but super sweet and your charm and how expressive and open you are with other people is what people like!
and he sees you cheering with your friend who he remembers is dating someone from the team
rugby has no gear so he just runs like no tomorrow 
smiling in the sun or determined stare as he talks to his team, you never know 
he yells either in frustration, victory, or defeat, literally will never be silent 
so after a game you follow your friend down to the railing and she has her little moments with her boyfriend 
and you and jake kind of awkwardly stand there for a moment 
he wipes his sweat off with a towel and smiles at you, cracking the ice 
“how long have you had to deal with that?” he points over to them 
you shrug and tell him “however long you’ve been dealing with it” he laughs 
oh wow his smile when he’s right in front of you is just so pretty 
and his little chuckle as he shakes his head and looks back up at you 
‘who do you watch on the field?’ he asks, with a little smirk because he likes you 
‘whoever catches my attention’ you tell him also smiling 
oh its a CHALLENGE. he will make sure to run on the side of the field you’re watching from, winking at you on the field, ugh just everything 
you come to a party at the end of the season to celebrate and he sees you 
“you came!!” super happy and makes sure you are next to him all the time 
“y/n you know the teammates, yeah?” you smile and congratulate them 
he leaves to get you a soda/water and jungwon leans in 
“jake LOVES to talk about you by the way” 
“yeah he always says how pretty you are in the library or in class, he likes when your friend comes because that means you come with her”
heeseung nods, “super into you, no joke” 
jake comes back trying to play it off “who’s into y/n?” 
you poke at his shoulder and smile, “you” and he’s all bashful and giggly 
loves to call himself ‘y/n’s girlfriend’ 
‘sorry, i can’t i have to buy flowers for y/n’ ‘sorry y/n needs me to help her study’ ‘sorry y/n needs a ride here’ STUCK TO YOUR HIP
ofc he doesn’t abandon his friends but he loves spending time with you :3
˚୨୧⋆。˚ ⋆ PARK SUNGHOON
sunghoon’s reputation proceeds him—cold on the court and just as reserved off of it
ugh he’s so annoying, he always has his bag in the same spot as yours and he always is at the water filling station with hos annoying 32oz bottle before you
also hogs that automatic tennis ball throwing machine like how are YOU supposed to practice tennis too 
‘hey i need that’ he furrows his eyebrows and shrugs 
‘i was here first’ ‘what are you twelve????’ sunghoon tells you ‘get here earlier next time then 
oh yeah. for the next week you ran to the courts everytime to get it before him 
one day he sees you and races you to the gates and you beat him 
sulky after as if his career is over
definitely varsity and one of the best, but he never approaches girls after his games
one time you go to a men’s game because it’s one of the most anticipated of the season 
its neck to neck, third set with 40-adv, sunghoon’s serve
he chases after that ball and sends it over, it barely hits the net and tumbles over, AND HE WINSSSS BRAHHHHH 
even if you hate him you will admit that he made the game extremely interesting 
you see his friends congratulate him and you notice that he never gets his clothes dirty 
always wears white to practice—pristine asf 
secretly he loves watching you too
even if you hate him for getting on your nerves some days and almost never doing more than bare minimum, you cannot lie and say sunghoon isn’t a huge inspiration 
just as you are to him 
sunghoon thinks your tenacity and passion for tennis is what makes you so fun to watch 
so even if he has homework, he goes to a game of yours and comes down to the court after the game 
bumps your shoulder after, ‘good game, y/n’ and you’re like ?? ‘you’re here?’ and he’s sooo nonchalant when he says ‘of course, i can’t miss a fun game can i?’ 
there’s a fun mixed doubles tournament for a whole gift basket of things and you come up to him 
‘hey let’s pair up’ and he grins 
you two play each other for practice and you’ve tied the score so many times you’ve lost count
and sunghoon’s a little annoying but oh lord he’s so attrative??? so maybe he wasn’t THAT annoying…
mixed doubles tourney rolls around and oh yeah. you two win.
you know much he likes natto and you say ‘here you take the natto’ he shakes his head ‘no you eat it all the time’
you two bicker and you say ‘fine lets just share it!’ and to your surprise..he opens the package and just mixes it all in 
you two sit and share the natto, then he tells you he thinks you’re pretty cool on court 
you raise your eyebrow cuz where is this coming from!! and he rolls his eyes 
‘nevermind maybe you’re only bright on the court’ 
‘hey what’s that supposed to mean!!!’ you take the natto and eat all of it LMFAO and then he pouts because noo his natto!!!
you kiss his cheek. it’s ok everything is ok now he is a happy boy 
“you’re my match” you write on a tennis ball pin and he keeps it on his bag like his life DEPENDS on it
˚୨୧⋆。˚ ⋆ KIM SUNOO
THE CUTEST VOLLEYBALL SETTER EVER 
i hate to be like oh you’ve had the fattest crush on him for like two months BUT ITS TRUE 
you’re on yearbook and you make an excuse to go see sunoo play!!
you two met when you were at a volleyball game and you told him to smile, but he’s one of those guys who says “wait delete that take another one!!” 
and ofc you agree, snapping a few cute photos of him
he posts to his social media, tagging you with a cute song saying ‘thanks photographer :3” 
and so you it begins, your small little crush on him..
he loves seeing you at his games, always makes sure to wave to you on the court 
hey so setter sunoo is insanely good at what he does 
so graceful when he places a NASTY setter dump on the other team, a glare shot at one of the other team’s members bad-mouthing him, but a glowing smile as he high-fives all his teammates! 
super supportive, and you loveee that about him!! he cares so much about everyone it makes your heart warm 
“here, let’s eat together,” you tell him, and you bring him some noodles you made because he said he was craving some 
he smiles at you and sits down, beginning to slurp slurp slurp and SCOREEE he loves it 
“thanks y/n, let me treat you some time :)” UGH DEAD DEAD 
KIM SUNOO KING OF FLOAT SERVES 
huge smile on his face when it lands where it needs to, he loves that feeling of satisfaction and soaks up all of your praise after his games are over 
he slips out of practice sometimes to see what you’re doing in yearbook, and he’ll take your camera to tell you to smile as he takes pics
someone in your class tells you too to look overfor a photo , so he loops an arm around your shoulders to pull you close and smile 
AND OH EM GEE UR LIKE TOTALLY GEEKING OUT OVER IT HELLO??????/ 
you ask her to print you a copy of it to save in your scrapbook, but sunoo cuts in and asks for another one 
“i like seeing you” DEAD IN A DITCH esp when he smiles at you and then runs off to practice before he gets in trouble
so competitive on the court and it makes him a little sulky when he loses 
“argh i did so bad today” he’d tell you, but in your eyes hello kim sunoo could do no wrong!! and you share your snacks while reassuring him 
he swears tho, “nooo, i had to look cool for you!” and you’re tired of hearing him say and do all of these sweet things and straight up 
“why?” “what do you mean, y/n?” “why do you want to look cool for me?” “well i liked you duh!” 
but sunoo never wanted to confess, he was too scared he wasn’t good yet at showing you all of his perfect bf traits 
WELL HE THOUGHT WRONG!! he’s been perfect from d1 so now he just sneaks in like 40 kisses before every game 
˚୨୧⋆。˚ ⋆ YANG JUNGWON
see so jungwon, he’s been a little FLIRTY as of recently. 
“you like older guys? but im a younger guy with rhythm” WHAT THE FKSCNHDJFD
whatever. anyways jungwon focuses on badminton like it’s a lifeline 
hitting birdies in his sleep would be smth he would do if he could, he loves how aggressive he can be in the sport without moving too much, lots of strategy involved 
you come to one of his games because your friend is on the other team, and you want to cheer him on
but jungwon notices you’re literally from his school?? 
isn’t it weird you’re going to a game for someone on the other team…
so he sets off a plan 
he goes to you after the game before your friend can
“hey, how come you don’t support anyone on our team” so straight to the point help 
and you tilt your head in confusion because “well i don’t know anyone from the team and you’re all scary”
scary??? jungwon makes it his personal mission to debunk that cuz no one is SCARY 
maybe sunghoon but that’s because he’s varsity 1 and the best player within 150 miles but whatever
he makes it his mission to wave to you when he sees you and when he’s sat next to you in one of your classes he’s like yay perf 
“you’re the guy from that badminton game huh?” “is that a good or bad thing” 
you shrug “whatever you want it to be” 
and he asks you to go to his next game but if he wins, you have to support the team and if he loses 
and you stare at him like “wtf do i get out of it” 
jungwon did NOT think about that 
he promises to buy you a snack after 
and it’s free food so you can’t complain 
you two talk more and he finds out you used to play badminton before you hurt your ankle and wanted to focus on school 
so he takes you to practice and gives you one of his expensive rackets
lowk falling in love everytime you laugh and chase the birdie 
jungwon pretends to hate chasing after it but he’ll still hit it back even if it’s out of bounds because he doesn’t want to waste your time picking it up
you two sit down and you tell him how fun it was to be able to play, and how much you missed it from your childhood 
your school holds a small festival where other school athletes go against your team modified lighting rounds 
paired with vendors and fun carnival stands, but the main attractions are always the variety of sports to watch
jungwon is one of the representatives from your school but so is your friend from the other school, so it’s heated when they play
you tie a ribbon around his racket (curtesy of sunghoon for helping you out) and write a note saying “if you do good ill cheer for you” 
AND HE WINS. so you keep your end of the bargain and cheer for him after the game is over, giving him a high five and a hug
he walks with you and asks about what you two are BECAUSE THIS IS A DATE this is date behavior 
“of course i like you won who wouldn’t”
let’s just say he gives u little kisses all over when you two are alone sigh so cute
˚୨୧⋆。˚ ⋆ NISHIMURA RIKI
he’s been on the soccer team ever since he was a freshman and even before, retaining his cute features and mischievous personality 
when you became assistant manager you were scared but your brother heeseung was on the team and your mom told you to look after him at school 
and riki takes after heeseung a LOT when they play and heeseung even goes as far as inviting riki over 
so riki’s super good at soccer by the time heeseung leaves, but he also has this small crush on you that heeseung’s told you about 
you just never said anything because you never had a reason to nor were you uncomfortable with it 
but junior year hits and riki comes back from winter break with pitch black hair all styled 
also…a lot taller than you. and no more baby fat 
and you paid attention to some of it because you saw him for practice, but the hair really did it 
during practice he loves to mess with you saying things like “can you fill up my water y/n pleaseeee” “no you have two feet” “ill win the next game against ____ if you get me water” “i’ll kick you off the team if you don’t win” 
he sighs and gets up, glaring down at you and you try not to let his playful stare affect you, but SOMETHING was different something was in the air
if riki doesn’t play good, it’s because his team manager aka you is NOT there 
you come back the next day to find out he was sulking and didn’t play super well because you weren’t encouraging him
“go run a lap, riki” and HE DOES JUST THAT “go practice on the field by yourself”
“how about you ask me to date you next” he grumbles 
and you HEAR him. loud and clear. 
but you’re like agh what if he doesn’t mean it what if he’s just joking 
at the next game he does super well and you congratulate the whole team 
yas team hybe eats 
you two are getting ready to go home when he finally brings it up
“you heard what i said on tuesday” and you know exactly what he means 
“yep.” “so why didn’t you say anything back” “i didn’t know if you were being serious”
he scoffs “y/n when have i ever not been serious about you”  
he opens your door even if he’s passenger princess 
makes fun of you for how much closer you need the wheel to be to drive
YAYYYY Y/NKI IS REAL
he loves to drape an arm around your shoulder walking around school 
acts as if he’s older when you two are literally the same age HELP 
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reblogs/interactions are appreciated always!
have some shameless self promo for my spiderman!riki fic!
and my upcoming jake fic!
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thepowerofswayze · 4 months
Note
college art donaldson !!!
maybe something about him , tashi , reader , and patrick all being in a friend group at while in college. maybe patrick comes down to visit tashi and suggest an idea where they drive down to the beach and rent a beach house for a few days or something. while they’re there tashi and patrick start arguing leaving reader and patrick alone.
change whatever if u need to but js anything with college art , please !!
so i took a million years and definitely wrote too much but. finally. FINALLY. thank you sm for this request, i hope you like it :)
beach trip
pairing: art donaldson (challengers, 2024) / afab reader [gender not specified]
word count: 3.9K
warnings & info: 18+, afab reader, NOT beta read lol (but nothing of mine ever is), college era art my love, friends to lovers, art and reader swim in their underwear lol, reader wears a bra, reader likes swimming, first time together, oral sex (reader receiving), p in v sex, safe sex (condom moment), art is a munch
summary: A group beach weekend sounded great- until Tashi and Patrick spent the whole drive bickering and the whole first night moments from pouncing on each other. Looks like you and Art will have to keep each other company.
“Don’t let him scare you, he’s shit at board games. And card games. Just like he’s shit at tennis.”
You just blinked, eyes darting to Patrick to see how he’d react to Tashi’s dig. The nervous laugh to your left let you know Art was just as unsure as you were.
When Patrick had come to visit Tashi and suggested all four of you take a trip to a rental beach house, you knew being in close quarters with the both of them for a full 3 days would be interesting, at the least. You weren’t about to pass up on the beach trip, though- not when Patrick was covering the rent.
What you didn’t know was that they would be argue-flirting the entire way there, and every moment since you’d all arrived. It made sense, though- between Tashi rooming with you, Patrick not having a room since he wasn’t a Stanford student, and his long stretches between visits, they hadn’t had any time alone in a little over 2 months.
Their flirting was always a little angry- little jabs and remarks that would have made you wince if you were the target. For them, it just made the other’s eyes linger on their partner's lips for a little too long.
Patrick licked his lips before he responded. “Do you ever talk about anything else?” He asked, a lazy half smile on his face.
Tashi’s comeback was almost immediate: “Not like you give me anything else to talk about.” She leaned back on her hands, eyes raking over him from top to bottom.
Patrick seemed to enjoy the scrutiny. He leaned forward, that lazy smirk changing into a playful grin. “Yeah? I got something I could give you right now.”
Alright. That was your sign to go.
When you turned to Art, brows raised, he was already looking at you. You glanced from him to the door and back. You knew Patrick and Tashi would be on each other any second now, whether you two left or not, and you really didn’t want to get caught up in it.
Art nodded.
Your “I think I’m gonna call it a night” and Art’s “Uh, me too” fell on deaf ears as you two scrambled out of the room. Art had barely shut the door behind himself before you could hear those two pounce on each other, the board game you’d been playing definitely scattered and forgotten.
It made you snicker, like a middle school boy. One glance at Art and he was laughing too, a hand over his mouth, his red stanford baseball cap the only thing keeping his hair from falling into his eyes as he shook.
More noises from the room- a crash, then the dull thud of something falling to the carpet. You winced through your grin, then made your way down the hall toward the front porch, beckoning Art to follow you.
Outside, you placed your arms on the railing, leaning entirely on the rickety wood. In the cool night air, you couldn’t hear your roommate and her boyfriend getting it on like animals. You didn’t blame them, even if the angry flirting style wasn’t for you. If you had a partner who was always away, you knew you’d jump on them the moment they were in sight.
You glanced over as Art joined you, mimicking your posture. You knew there was a point, early freshman year, when he’d liked Tashi. It was hard to ignore how his smile dropped when he’d watch Patrick and Tashi reunite, thinking no one was watching. And you always recognized how lost he looked when he stared at her while the three of you had lunch- after all, you looked at him the same way.
Recently, though- over the year and a half you’d known the three of them- he was easing up on it. His smiles lingered long after he thought everyone had looked away. He didn’t even notice when Tashi walked into the cafeteria until you waved her down to sit with you guys. And now, next to you, he was grinning at their antics instead of grimacing.
He seemed to be over it. If only you could be so lucky.
“Like… animals,” Art said, glancing over at you. You were caught so off guard, you didn’t even remember to pretend you hadn’t been staring.
“That’s exactly what I was thinking!” You laughed, grinning. “They definitely needed that. Did you hear them in the back of the car on the way down here?”
Art groaned. “Oh my god, I thought they were gonna go at it right there.” He brought his voice an octave higher, lifting his chin in an imitation of Tashi that could’ve also passed for royalty- what was the difference, really. “‘You eat like shit. No wonder you play the same.’”
Immediately, you dropped your voice, giving him a coy side smirk and raising one eyebrow. “‘I’ll tell you what I’d rather eat.’”
The two of you doubled over, howling in laughter. Then, another crash from inside. Escaping them was going to be harder than you thought.
“You wanna head down to the water?” Art asked.
“Sure,” you said, smiling wide when he gave you a mock bow and let you lead the way.
The roar of the waves was comforting as you got closer, sand covering your bare feet- neither of you remembered to grab shoes- and the salty air filling your nose. The walk was silent, and the few minutes you spent standing at the edge of the ocean was, too. You watched it reach out toward you, then retreat back into the glittering blue-black. At some point, you closed your eyes.
“I’ve never swam in the ocean.”
Your eyes snapped open. Art was still looking out at the water, head tilted like an inquisitive puppy. The wind fought to ruffle the few curls that peaked out from under his hat. “Never?” You asked.
Art shook his head. “We didn’t really go when I was a kid, and I was way too scared, anyway. Then when I went with friends it was more about beach volleyball and drinking than actually swimming.” He looked over at you, then laughed. “I’m guessing from your face right now, you must love swimming in the ocean.”
You closed your mouth, which you hadn’t realized had fallen open, and shook your head. “Do I?” His incredulous head shake made you smile. A beat of silence. “Are you still scared of it?”
He took a moment to answer, chewing on the inside of his cheek. Then he shrugged. “I don’t know. Not too scared to try, I guess.”
“Alright, wanna try?”
Art just tilted his head at you. You gestured toward your clothes, then the ocean, then to him. You could see it in his face when he caught on. “I’m not going in alone.”
You only took a second to think about it before you were tugging your t-shirt off and tossing it on the sand between you two. Your shorts came soon after. You already had one foot in the water when Art called your name, laughing so hard he could barely say it.
You shrieked at the cold as it hit your stomach, then sunk down to your shoulders, getting the shock over with all together. When you turned back toward the sand, you saw a shirtless Art running toward you in his boxers, moonlight tracing his chest and shoulders. He still had that fucking hat on. It made you grin.
He didn’t shriek when he hit the water, but he did take a lengthy inhale. You watched as he held his nose, screwed his eyes shut, and dunked himself up to his head. His hat bobbed just above the surface, and you picked it up and put it on yourself.
When he came back up, he shook his head, wet hair sending droplets flying. Art grinned, wiping water from his eyes and pointing at the hat on your head. “Thief.”
You rolled your eyes. “Next time I’ll just let it float away then, idiot.” It only made him grin harder. You waved your arms back and forth through the water, the cold easier to ignore when you moved. “So?”
“Hm?”
“Still scared?”
Again, he thought about it for a moment. “No, actually. I think I’m okay.”
You hummed, bringing a finger to your chin in mock deep thought. “What if there are sharks? I think you should be scared of sharks, probably.”
“Nah.” Art shook his head. “The sharks should be afraid of me. I’m the scariest thing here.” He lifted his arms out of the water to flex comically, chin lifted in comical pride.
You laughed, splashing him, making him yelp. “Okay, sure, macho man.”
“What, don’t believe me?”
You shrugged, a smirk tugging at your lips.
Before you knew it, Art had his arms around your middle, lifting you and dunking you in the water back first, like a baptism. You had all of two seconds to scream, then shut your eyes and mouth. He let you up immediately, wading away from you and toward the sand as you resurfaced, spluttering.
“Donaldson!” you shouted, though your serious tone was undermined by your beaming face. Somehow, his hat stayed on your head.
He’d gotten a little ways away from you, but you still had the advantage- you swam in the ocean every chance you got.
You surged toward him, biting back a cackle as his eyes widened in fear. You grabbed his shoulders, pushing off him and shoving him under the waves. He stayed under for a second- then two, then three, until you vaguely started to worry- before jumping out in front of you, wrapping his arms around your torso and making you all but scream.
“Holy shit!” You were giggling, wrapping your arms around Art’s neck for stability. “Isn’t it fun in here? You’ve been missing out.”
He didn’t respond for a moment, so you met his eyes. You hadn’t realized how close you were. It seemed like the realization was hitting him, too, as his eyes scanned your face. He glanced from your eyes to your lips and back. Despite the breeze and the water, your skin was suddenly very warm. You could feel every point where his body touched yours.
You knew what was happening- you could sense it. At least, you were pretty sure you knew. It’s the only thing that could come next, right?
… Maybe you were reading it wrong.
You hesitated. Then, suddenly, “God, it’s cold,” and you kicked off of him to dunk yourself in the water one more time, resurfacing a couple steps away and wading onto shore. When you looked back at him, you could almost convince yourself that the same disappointment that filled your chest was written on his face. “Come on!” You called cheerfully, and Art started after you, replacing the look with an amused smile.
You both put your clothes back on, if only to shield yourselves from some of the breeze on the short walk back. You were both silent as you neared the house, as you walked down the halls. Neither of you even remarked on how Tashi and Patrick had finally gone silent. When Art got to his door and stopped, though, you turned to him.
“Goodnight,” you said, willing your voice to sound less defeated than you felt. Your hands fiddled with the hem of your soaked shirt.
Art nodded. That look was back in his eyes, the one that looked just how you felt. “Goodnight.”
⋆⋅☆⋅⋆
The shower was much needed and very welcomed. You took your time getting sand off of you as best as you could, working the water into your hair (you’d wash it tomorrow- you weren’t going through that whole workout this late). When you stepped out of the hot water, toweling yourself off, your eyes caught on the red Stanford baseball cap on the sink counter. You bit your lip and walked past it, into the connecting bedroom you were calling yours for the weekend.
Pajamas on, you sat at the edge of your bed, scrunching your hair mostly dry with a spare t-shirt you’d packed just for that. The crash of the ocean enveloped you through the open window.
You thought about it. About his arms around you and his chest against yours. About the way he’d looked at you and you’d known exactly what he was going to do. About his face when you’d second guessed yourself and ran away.
Fuck. Why did you run away?
When you got up and walked to the door, you grabbed the hat from the bathroom counter. You told yourself you were only going to return it, but something in the back of your mind laughed at your excuse.
You had just gotten to the door, lifting a hesitant hand to knock, when it swung open and you were met with a flushed, freshly showered, boxers-and-t-shirt clad Art Donaldson.
The two of you stared for a moment. You didn’t see the disappointment in his eyes anymore, but there was still something there. You were sure it was on your face, too.
You cleared your throat. “Hat,” you said, intelligently.
Art glanced at the hat in your slightly raised hand, then nodded. His eyes came back up to meet yours, then darted down to your lips. He opened his mouth and hesitated. “Do you wanna-”
You pushed forward, pressing your lips to his for just a moment, before pulling back, searching his eyes. He didn’t give you too long to think about what you’d just done, his hands flying to your waist, pulling you back toward him and kissing you again. Hard.
Art yanked you into the room, and you dropped the hat, the door shutting as he pushed you up against it. His hands found their way under your sleep shirt, settling on your bare waist, and one of yours cupped his cheek while the other thread through his hair. You tugged gently at the curls, and he sighed your name into your mouth.
You pulled back just long enough to murmur, “Bed?”
He obliged, grabbing your hand to lead you to the corner bed. His rental room was similar to yours, save for a warm, dull bedside lamp on, barely illuminating the room.
You both crawled onto the bed on your knees, leaning forward to pick up where you’d left. Art’s hands played with the hem of your shirt and you helped him lift it off of you. His shirt went next. He cupped your breasts tentatively, thumbs brushing over your nipples, his face watching yours like he wanted to see if he was doing this right. You pulled him back in for another kiss and bit his lip. He groaned.
“Lay back,” he murmured against your mouth.
You did as told, scooting up the bed and falling into his pillows. They smelled mostly of the air freshener the owner of the beach house had doused it with, but the vague hint of Art’s cologne permeated the room.
He kissed you again, holding himself up over you. He placed kisses down your neck, your shoulders, your collarbone. As one of his hands came to rest between your legs, pressing against you between your pants and underwear, he placed his mouth on one of your nipples. He bit at it gently, sucking immediately to make up for the hurt and moving his hand against you. Your breath stuttered and grew heavy, lips parting, as he moved to your other nipple.
Art pressed a kiss to your stomach next, trailing lower, eyes closed. You watched as he murmured against your skin, “You don’t know how fucking long I’ve wanted this.”
“Yeah?” ‘Sex with me or eating me out specifically?’ you wanted to ask. Instead, you bit your lip and watched him hook his fingers into the waistband of your pants and underwear, pulling them down together and tossing them on the floor. He pressed alternating kisses to each of your thighs, inching closer and closer. You could barely hear your voice when you asked, “Why didn’t you do anything?”
A shiver ran through you, partially from the vulnerability and cool air, partially from the way Art was looking at you- reverent. Devout. “I couldn’t imagine I’d be lucky enough.”
You wanted to say something back- something clever and sweet to let him know just how easily he could have had you- but his mouth was on you in less than a second, and all that you could do was let out an odd cross between a huff and a whine.
His tongue pressed flat against you- eager, almost desperate, like you were an oasis in the desert. His nose bumped your clit as he bobbed his head, switching between long strokes and focusing on sucking your clit. “Shit,” you whispered, your hand threading through his hair. He fell into a rhythm, the consistent vulgar noises of his mouth against you filling the room alongside your gasps and whines.
When his tongue pushed into you, your eyes screwed shut. “Fuck, Art,” you said, barely gripping his hair and faintly hoping that it wasn’t painful for him. He only whined at his name, a desperate noise, and pushed his face impossibly deeper. “I’ll- I’ll come if you keep-” You cut yourself off with a groan.
Art pulled back just enough to say, “I want you to. Please, let me taste it.” Immediately, his mouth was back on you, like he couldn’t keep himself away for long. You would’ve playfully chided him for being so filthy had you not been busy gripping his hair and letting curses fly.
You let your head fall back, hips rolling on their own accord, and he only adapted and let you ride his face and bring yourself to the edge. You came with a loud cry, thighs pressing in on his head, back lifting just slightly off the bed. Art didn’t back off as your high subsided, continuing until you’d come down and were laying there, panting.
You pushed yourself up to a sitting position, then pulled Art back up onto the bed. His eyes were glossy, much like the majority of his face, covered in you and his own spit. You put your hands on his cheeks, ignoring the sticky feeling and pulling him in for a rough kiss. You could taste yourself on his tongue.
One of your hands wandered, trailing down his chest and coming to rest at the front of his boxers, palming him. He groaned.
“I wanna fuck you,” you said, pulling away to look him in the eye.
Art huffed a laugh. “You can’t say that to me. I’m not gonna last at all.”
That caught you off guard, and you laughed. “What?”
He shrugged coyly, almost smug as if his cheeks weren’t still flushed and glistening from his time spent between your legs. “I’m, like, halfway there already.”
Just from eating you out and a little petting? That was… surprisingly hot.
You told him as much, relishing in how deeply he flushed and how widely he grinned. You made him lie back on the bed. “Condoms?” You asked.
He nodded toward his bedside, to the backpack leaning against the nightstand. You raised an eyebrow at him before leaning off the bed to grab one. All he offered you was a shy smile.
You kissed his chest, making your way down to his waistband, and he watched, propped up on his elbows, like he was sure if he took his eyes off you you’d disappear. When you pulled down his boxers and tossed them aside, you wasted no time ripping the condom wrapper open and rolling it on.
Getting up on your knees, you hovered over him and lined your hips up with his. You gave him a quick glance. “This okay?”
He nodded, eagerly, and you could’ve broken at the sight. You sank onto him, gasping slightly at the sensation. Art watched your face, open mouthed, eyes never leaving yours. You almost wanted to look away, but the intensity was riveting.
With him now fully in you, you gave yourself a moment to adjust, hands settling on his chest as he gripped your thighs. You gave your hips an experimental push forward.
Art let out a groan that sounded somewhat like “Fuck” and “Ugh” put together. You repeated the motion, your mouth opening softly as you watched his eyes flutter open and shut. It was like he was struggling between giving into the feeling and watching you.
You increased your pace, head falling forward as you lifted your hips with each push. Art’s hands moved to grip your ass, eyes focused on you, little pants and whimpers escaping him as you moved. “Fuck, you’re gorgeous,” he murmured. You would’ve responded in kind, but he bucked his hips moments after and your head fell back with a moan.
With your hands now supporting you from behind, gripping the sheets, you rolled your hips with each lift. Art let out a particularly pathetic whine, and you grinned through your heavy breathing, gazing at him with heavily lidded eyes. “Close?” He nodded, his expression so desperate that you were sure he was right on the edge. You could feel yourself right behind him. “Cum for me then,” you panted.
Art groaned, one hand moving to press sloppy circles against your clit. You forced yourself to keep your eyes open, wanting to see his face as his orgasm hit him. His eyebrows were furrowed, lips parted as he panted and he whimpered. When his orgasm came, his eyes shut and he cried out, gripping you tightly and continuing to rub your clit, hips bucking into you involuntarily. You were only a second behind, “Fuck, Art!” the only thing you could say before your hips stuttered and your second orgasm washed over you.
Slowly, you came to a stop, panting and barely keeping yourself up. Your head was light, and you couldn’t wipe an exhausted smile off your face. When you finally felt like your arms wouldn’t give out, you lifted yourself off of him, collapsing on the bed between him and the wall, catching your breath.
Art removed the condom, tying it off and throwing it in the trash before turning to face you. His breathing was much more regular, but his chest still heaved. “...Fuck,” he said.
And you laughed, one arm over your eyes, the other clutching your stomach. “Yeah?”
He was grinning at you when your arm moved off your eyes, then leaning in, pressing a kiss to your shoulder, your collar bone, your cheek. “Yeah,” he murmured. Silence fell over you both as you watched him intertwine your fingers and stare at them. His lip twitched, like he was working up the courage to say something. “I meant it, you know. I wanted this- you- I’ve liked you for… a while.”
You hummed, now suddenly also very interested in your intertwined fingers. “‘Liked,’ past tense? All done now?”
He rolled his eyes. “No, dumb-ass.” You smacked his arm, glancing up to find him looking at you now. “Like. Still. And probably will for a while.”
You felt your face warm. You kissed him. “I like you, too. Still do. Will for a while, etcetera.”
“Thank fucking god,” he said, and you couldn’t help but snort a laugh. When Art kissed you again, you could feel his smile against your lips, and you were sure he could feel yours.
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augustinewrites · 1 year
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sweet nothing ft the fushigojos to make up for the last fic i wrote for them heh
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gojo satoru was not made for domesticity. this has always been something you've known, something you've accepted.
you're just not sure that he has.
it's a little past midnight when he trudges into your bedroom, tired lines creasing his pretty face as he shuffles around the room. he greets you with a quiet hey, and a peck on the forehead before stripping off his uniform, tossing it into the basket with a little more force than necessary.
you raise a brow at him, but stay quiet as he stalks into the bathroom. in the years that you've been together, you've learned better than to back an emotionally repressed sorcerer into a corner and force him to say how he's feeling. especially one who’s just gotten back from assignment.
you try and fail to return to the novel you were reading, staring blankly at the page until gojo steps out. his hair is damp, a towel slung low around his waist as he digs around in the closet for underwear.
there’s no pageantry, no winks or eyebrow waggles or light teasing of, like what you see? stuff that would usually make you roll your eyes, but that you suddenly realize has been missing lately.
okay, something is definitely wrong.
so you shut your book, placing it on the nightstand as he crawls into bed next to you. he says nothing, simply reaching across you to flick off your lamp and plunge the room into darkness.
it’s with a heavy sigh that he rests his head in your lap, grabbing your hand and plopping it into his hair before hugging your legs.
"i can't go to okinawa with you guys tomorrow.”
“satoru,” you can’t help but frown, carding your fingers through his hair. “we’ve been planning this trip for months.”
“i know, i’m sorry,” he says, strained. “you should just take the kids without me. take shoko, or something. megumi’s already stocked up on his spf, and tsumiki was really looking forward to picking seashells—”
“satoru,” you interrupt when you catch his voice break. “are you— are you okay?”
he’s crying, you realize when he doesn’t respond, instead pushing his head deeper into your lap, muttering, “no.”
“talk to me,” you murmur, smoothing your hand down his spine.
"i don't want the kids to think that i didn't want to go."
"you've been talking about seeing me in a bikini for weeks, i think they know how badly you wanted to go."
your comment pulls a small laugh out of him, but it's still interrupted by a sniffle.
"what's this really about?" you ask softly.
"i've been...missing things lately," he mutters quietly. "little league games, piano recitals, science fairs. i leave before they're awake, i get back when they're about to go to bed."
sorcerers who are referred to as 'the strongest' don't get days off. they go where they're needed, when they're needed.
"you know they don't hold any of that against you."
"i know," he says, sitting up to look at you. "but i don't want them - or you - to feel like i'm not choosing you. because i would, but i can't. and i'm just tired. of all of it--"
you wrap your arms around him when his voice breaks once more, pulling him into a hug. he reciprocates immediately, hiding his face in the crook of your neck as he releases a shaky sigh.
"it's not just about being there for the big things," you murmur. "it's about...being there when they need you to be. i can't hit a baseball to save my life, so you're the one who takes them the park to practice. you're the one who taught tsumiki how to read sheet music, and found a way to explain the concept of infinity to a ten year old so he could win the science fair."
without him, there would be no little league games, piano recitals, or science fairs to attend.
"besides, we can always go on vacation some other time," you assure him, rubbing circles across his back. "it's not worth it if you're not with us."
_____
satoru wakes to the sound of muffled laughter. a quick glance at the alarm clock on his nightstand confirms that it's 7am.
the lack of warmth pressed into his side tells him you're up too. it's rare that anyone is awake before he is, especially on weekends or days that he's set to depart. he can hear bits of your conversation with the kids as he gets ready for the day, changing into his uniform and shoving clothes into a bag.
"what shape should i try to make?" he hears you ask. ah, you must be making pancakes.
"a heart!" tsumiki suggests.
"japan!" megumi argues.
he knows you're going to make both. you're doing so when he saunters onto the scene, humming along to whatever song tsumiki's put on the record player as you drop chocolate chips into the batter.
he sweeps your hair away from your neck, dipping his head down to press a kiss to the nape of your neck.
then he turns to the kids, who are in the process of setting the table. "did, uh, you guys already talk about okinawa?"
tsumiki nods, but megumi just shrugs, wrinkling his nose. "there are a lot of jellyfish there anyway."
he of course goes on to inform everyone of the different kinds of jellyfish and all the horrible ways they could kill you. tsumiki chimes in to say that they won't attack unless they're bothered.
you press a mug of coffee into his hand, standing on the tip of your toes to kiss to his cheek before joining the kids at the table with a plate of pancakes.
the scene that unfolds in front of him is a simple one, but one that he's dreamed of all his life. a family sitting together for a meal, laughing and chatting about things that don't really matter.
the world's always going to need him. but this? this is all he needs.
because gojo satoru wasn't made for domesticity, but for his family? he'll try.
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neocurio · 2 years
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bABY ANSON BASEBALL VICTORIAN TRADE CARD BABY TALK CORSET ADVERTISING
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starseungs · 4 months
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college crush!seungmin
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college crush series .ᐟ ── bang chan ⋆ lee know ⋆ changbin ⋆ hyunjin ⋆ han ⋆ felix ⋆ seungmin ⋆ i.n
kim seungmin x gn!reader. fluff, college au. 1.1k wc.
note: #1 on the college crush series! this was from a college boyfriend seungmin drabble i whipped up from his recent bubble photo, but became headcanons instead ... and a series ... for all the members ;;; anyway that's for me to worry about and for you all to enjoy <3
2024 ⓒ starseungs on tumblr. do not steal, repost, or edit.
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College Crush!Seungmin who you first met through your shared class together. He was well-known by the class as that student who always sat in the first row—the only one doing so willingly. 
College Crush!Seungmin who your first thoughts were that he looked really handsome and put together, which pulled your curiosity in. He had that aura of seriousness coming off him in silent waves, though, so you opted to admire him from a distance instead.
College Crush!Seungmin who you caught staring at you with a slight tilt on his head when the professor announced you two as partners for the first subject of the semester. You could almost see the calculative glint in his eye, which you interpreted as him trying to get an initial read of you. 
College Crush!Seungmin who you quickly learned to be strict when it came to punctuality, whether it be deadlines or meeting times. Initially, you thought he was being uneccessarily hot-headed about it—until you got to know him better and found out about how serious he took his studies because of a scholarship. You straightened out your act after that.
College Crush!Seungmin who has a “studies first” mindset, but was also surprisingly good at maintaining his social life. You’ve seen him have at least one conversation with all the students in your shared class, as well as getting invited to different kinds of hangouts. There’s been multiple times he’s rejected offers in favor of studying, but his reputation still remains positive. 
College Crush!Seungmin who despite having all those other friends, came to you first when your subject professor announced a group work where you could choose your own members. You were dumbfounded as he stood in front of your desk, talking about his plans for the content as if grouping up with you was the most natural course of action. 
College Crush!Seungmin who stuttered in embarrassment when you asked him why he chose you as a group member, his face flushing slightly as he avoided your eyes and admitted he thought of you as his first friend in class. You didn’t voice it out, but his statement made you extremely happy. 
College Crush!Seungmin who evidently got frustrated whenever things don’t go as he planned with the groupwork, yet was questionably patient whenever it was you who had issues. He would never admit his blatant favoritism, even as you both felt the suspicious gazes of your groupmates. You promised yourself that day that you would keep the pride you felt at being the center of his attention a secret and take it to the grave.
College Crush!Seungmin who made you promise to keep in touch with him as much as possible since you unfortunately only had one class with him. He claims it was because he tolerated you better than the rest and thought your output quality matched well with his. You kept your mouth shut even though you clearly noticed the way he fumbled with his fingers in anxiousness while waiting for your answer.
College Crush!Seungmin who kept acting like it was a bother to tutor you, yet was always the first one to offer since he somehow keeps noticing where you struggle during your study hangouts. You wouldn’t be able to see it as you focus on applying what he just taught you, but his lips curl up into a fond smile whenever he sees you succeed in answering a question and feel proud of yourself.
College Crush!Seungmin who has nerdy interests he keeps on the downlow. You discovered his baseball card collection by accident when your pen rolled down under his bed the time he invited you over to study in his dorm room since his mom sent him tons of perishable snacks he couldn’t finish by himself before they went bad. 
College Crush!Seungmin who couldn’t hide the way his eyes lit up when you asked sincere questions about his collection, eventually realizing that you showed interest in the things he liked. You quietly burned all the information he says into your brain, already plotting ways on how you could bring them up again in the future.
College Crush!Seungmin who enthusiastically makes sure that he listens to you talk about your own interests too, taking time out of his day to learn more about them in secret. Your heart fluttered way too much to hide the joy you felt when he casually referenced them in conversation.
College Crush!Seungmin who looked like an abandoned puppy when your shared professor assigned you two different partners for another task. You stayed up all night giggling to yourself while reading the non-stop trail of messages he kept sending you, expressing his disappointment at the arrangement.
College Crush!Seungmin who never thought he'd start finding doing projects boring whenever he wasn’t doing them with you. It was a pain to keep yourself from physically shaking in delight every time he calls you to keep him company as he does his schoolwork—not knowing this was his way of removing the stress he felt from constantly doing academics.
College Crush!Seungmin who started bringing you your preferred wake-up drink every day before your first class. You felt bad that he might have been spending too much money on you, but he was stubborn in not wanting you to pay him back for the drinks. Might as well enjoy the free energy you get from both him and the drink for the whole day. 
College Crush!Seungmin who was the subject of your friends’ good-natured teasing—the constant coos of how you both suited each other making heat rise up to your face as he chuckled along with them, not saying anything to refute it.
College Crush!Seungmin who finally asked you out on a romantic date spontaneously after class, proposing that he'd treat you to dinner after your last study session before the semester finals. You told him that you two could split the bill like you always did whenever you two ate together, only to witness him splutter out a frantic objection. When he saw the stunned look on your face at his sudden outburst, he gathered up all his courage to genuinely convey his intentions.
College Crush!Seungmin who became your boyfriend through his wording of wanting to be your “permanent project partner.” He couldn’t believe his ears when he heard you say yes, already mentally berating himself for what he believed was cringy wording. But what he didn’t know was that you would’ve been over the moon with anything, as long as it was him.
College Boyfriend!Seungmin who thinks you’re his perfect pair, always thanking the universe for letting him meet you.
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svt17-imagines · 4 months
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𝕴𝖓𝖘𝖕𝖎𝖗𝖆𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓
ꜱʏɴᴏᴘꜱɪꜱ: ʜᴇʟᴘɪɴɢ ᴏᴜᴛ ʏᴏᴜʀ ꜰʀɪᴇɴᴅ ᴀɴᴅ ᴄᴏᴡᴏʀᴋᴇʀ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴏɴɢ ʜᴇ'ᴅ ʙᴇᴇɴ ꜱᴛʀᴜɢɢʟɪɴɢ ᴡɪᴛʜ ꜰᴏʀ ᴡᴇᴇᴋꜱ ᴡᴀꜱ ᴏɴᴇ ᴛʜɪɴɢ, ʙᴜᴛ ɢᴇᴛᴛɪɴɢ ᴄᴀᴜɢʜᴛ ᴛᴏᴜᴄʜɪɴɢ ʏᴏᴜʀꜱᴇʟꜰ ɪɴ ʜɪꜱ ꜱᴛᴜᴅɪᴏ ᴡʜɪʟᴇ ʟɪꜱᴛᴇɴɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ʜɪꜱ ᴍᴜꜱɪᴄ ᴡᴀꜱ ᴀɴᴏᴛʜᴇʀ.
ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 6ᴋ
ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: ꜱᴍᴜᴛ, ᴍᴜᴛᴜᴀʟ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴜʀʙᴀᴛɪᴏɴ, ᴅɪʀᴛʏ ᴛᴀʟᴋ
ᴀ/ɴ: ꜰɪʀꜱᴛ ᴛɪᴍᴇ ᴡʀɪᴛɪɴɢ ᴀɴ ᴀᴄᴛᴜᴀʟ +18 ꜰɪᴄ ꜱᴏ ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ᴍɪɴᴅ ᴀɴʏ ᴀᴡᴋᴡᴀʀᴅ ʟᴀɴɢᴜᴀɢᴇ, ɪ'ᴍ ꜱᴛɪʟʟ ꜰɪɢᴜʀɪɴɢ ᴏᴜᴛ ʜᴏᴡ ᴛᴏ ᴡʀɪᴛᴇ ꜱᴛᴜꜰꜰ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴀɴᴅ ɪ ꜰɪɢᴜʀᴇᴅ ꜱᴛᴀʀᴛɪɴɢ ꜱʟᴏᴡ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ʜᴇʟᴘ ᴍᴇ ʟᴇᴀʀɴ! ɪ ʜᴏᴘᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴇɴᴊᴏʏ~
Sometimes your own life didn’t feel real.
It took years of back breaking studying and hard work, but even you couldn't believe your ears when it was announced that you had somehow managed to swing a job as one of HYBE’s various producers. The roster of people it allowed you worked with was expansive and impressive, and you often felt out of place amongst the many well known music industry personas who shared your job title. But all that wasn’t to say you got chosen for the job out of pure luck or sheer will, for you definitely had more than enough background and experience to warrant your resume having a more than fair shot in the first place.
You’d worked with plenty of idols before, albeit without an official label behind you or any exclusive contract in place. Hell you’d even produced for a few big names in the U.S., it gave you every reason to be extremely proud of your work, and deep down you definitely knew your skills were highly sought after. But it didn’t change the fact that you still got surprised whenever a particularly famous idol or company reached out and requested to work with you.
You were even more caught off guard when Bang PD himself wrote to you directly, offering you the opportunity of a lifetime to work with the various talents beneath the incredibly famous company known as HYBE.
That was two years ago now, and you’d grown more connections with more composers and idols then you’d ever thought possible. Le Sserafim was the first group you’d ever been assigned to work with, and from then on you knew you made the right career choice. The girls were absolute angels, incredibly humble with the kindest personalities. New Jeans was the next, and you’d never felt more protective and proud of such sweet young ladies. They even went out of their way to  write you a card and buy you a cake last year for your birthday.
Seventeen though… Seventeen just so happened to be the group you’d grown the most fond of within the past year.
Your first job for them was to assist the production of their song Darling, and from the moment you’d stepped foot in the studio the boys went above and beyond to make you feel welcomed. Seungcheol was the first to greet and introduce the members, which you’d appreciated immensely. Joshua and Vernon were happy to have some small talk in English with you to discuss your work in the U.S., while DK and Hoshi made an effort to get to know more personal details like how you came to work for HYBE in the first place. All of the members were considerate enough to include you in their conversations, and as you all grew closer you’d come to become friends even outside of work.
It was an interesting dynamic they all had, fitting together like a puzzle even though their personalities were all so complex and different. The way their voices managed to melt together without any problems astounded you, and made the production process a million times more interesting and fun to you.
And Woozi of course was the conductor that made the absolute chaos of Seventeen’s vocals work together. Your respect for him had grown exponentially the longer you knew him, and over time he’d eventually become the one you’d talk to the most in the group. 
The first time you’d ever seen him in person you had to admit you were incredibly intimidated, his blondish pink hair was concealed with a black baseball cap as he sat leaning forward in his office chair. His posture was tense and uncomfortably on edge, almost as if a simple change in temperature would disrupt his process and send him spiraling. His eyes darted around the computer monitors sporadically, adjusting volume levels and fixing microphone frequencies quicker than even you could follow. He was locked in, completely blocking out everything except the boys’ vocals and the screens in front of him.
He hadn’t even properly been able to introduce himself to you until after everyone else had finally left, only then did he finally remove those giant headphones covering his cute little ears. You remembered the rush of anxiety creeping up your throat at the time, by that point you’d met many producers and musicians who absolutely hated being assigned an assistant. You’d come to find it was always a pride thing. When a song just wasn’t working most felt the need to figure out what was missing themselves, and if they were so much as suggested a simple extra drum beat in the background or a synth wave in the chorus, it would get immediately shut down no matter the potential it had. 
But when Jihoon turned around in his chair to greet you with a sheepish grin and a bow of acknowledgement, you knew he was simply just appreciative of the space you had given him to work. He offered you a seat next to him, apologized profusely for his late introduction, and asked for any input you might have for the title track.
It made sense that you’d both end up getting along so well, with the two of you being such passionate producers and each of you having workaholic tendencies practically pumping through your veins. Music came easily to you, to Jihoon, it was a love you had shared deeply and a conversation you never got sick of having together. It became incredibly common for both of you to knock out in his studio after pushing yourselves to the absolute limits of your creative abilities.
But it also wasn’t uncommon for you to swing by and bring him food even on the days you weren’t working. When you got especially bored at home, you often found yourself poking your head in the studio door and proceeding to talk his ears off for hours about life while he sat and listened, and in return he’d rant to you about whatever musical rut he’d been stuck in that day. 
During the worst of it he would shut himself inside the studio and force himself to work in complete silence, it was days like these where you knew he needed energy the most. You’d drag him out of the studio for some sun and stimulation, force him to grab coffee or walk to the convenience store together, other times he would ask you to simply stay with him while he brooded over his computer in a pout. 
One time he’d gotten stuck on a melody for days, and yet within one single visit inspiration had hit you almost immediately. He always made sure to let you know how grateful he was when you gave your opinion, each time he would always give you the warmest, most gentle smile you’d ever seen. The same smile that filled you with an unbridled joy that pooled deep in your stomach, it made you feel… needed. No, it made you feel borderline irreplaceable.
Today was one of your days off, and yet you still found yourself grinning ear to ear as your heels clicked along the marble flooring of the main HYBE building. A large sandwich bag was hanging from your arm, with your hands clutching a cup holder filled with iced americanos. You made your way to the elevator, fumbling with your badge to scan against the wall reader as the soft ding alerted you to the lift arriving.
The third floor of the building was designated for all the production studios, with a practice room at the far end of the narrow hall. It was one of the higher quality locations meant more for filming rather than actually rehearsing. Each room contained plenty of music equipment and had absolutely breathtaking acoustics, with nearly each one also managing to be soundproof. You'd remembered being present for one of Seungkwan's incredibly impressive vocal recordings here as an assistant producer a while back, and to this day you swore that it was the most beautiful sound you’d ever heard in your life. 
As you stepped out of the elevator your smile grew even wider as you noticed Jeonghan and Wonwoo walking down the hall in your direction. Jeonghan with his arm hooked through Wonwoo’s tightly, his head resting comfortably on his shoulder.
“Y/N! I thought you weren’t in till Friday?” Wonwoo greeted with a smile, his hand coming up to adjust the glasses drooping low on his nose. It was obvious the two had just gotten done filming something, their faces were slightly red from exertion and excessive overheating if their leather jackets and pants were anything to go by. 
“Jihoon’s been stuck on Maestro’s bridge since last week, I figured I’d at least bring him some lunch so he doesn’t starve himself to death.” You shrugged, Jeonghan smirked.
“You came just for Jihoon? Again?” He huffed in feigned offense. “What about us~?” 
“You know just as well as I do that I can’t walk into this building without expecting to run into at least two of you.” You giggled, holding out the coffee carrier in your hands. “I brought extra for you guys, try not to fall in love with me alright?”
Their eyes immediately perked up at the sight of iced americano and wasted no time snatching one each. Wonwoo took a long sip from his drink and released a sigh, his eyes closed in content.
“An Angel. You’re an Angel, Y/N.” Wonwoo spoke blissfully. Jeonghan nodded and proceeded to sip from his as his eyes fluttered shut too.
“I will never doubt your beautiful and charitable heart ever again.” You snorted at the dramatics, reaching into the sandwich bag for the extra pesto caprese you’d purchased as well.
“You guys can split this too, but don’t tell the others.” You chuckled as the two practically drooled, eyes locked on to your hands as you offered them the food. “If they find out I fed you both they’re all gonna make me buy them dinner next time.”
Jeonghan nodded and grabbed the sandwich from you without hesitation, attracting Wonwoo’s gaze. He gave a little cross my heart sign and winked slyly.
“They’ll never even know it existed.” Jeonghan promised, already slinking his way onto the elevator behind you. “It’ll be gone in seconds, trust me.”
“Hey! Where do you think you’re going with that alone, huh?” Wonwoo whined, following him into the elevator and reaching for the sandwich. Jeonghan was faster and trickier, pulling it out of reach just in time resulting in a soft “Hyung!”.
“Why? What is it?” Jeonghan feigned innocence as he tried pushing Wonwoo out of the elevator to escape, Wonwoo forced his way back in with a hearty laugh as he managed to bite a small corner out of one of the sandwich halves still in Jeonghan hands. “Hey! What if I wanted that one!”
“Yoon Jeonghan—” You threatened lightly, a smile tugging at your lips when Jeonghan finally ended his teasing. He handed Wonwoo his partially bitten portion of the sandwich just as the doors to the elevator closed, both of them waving you goodbye with a happy grin.
You chuckled in content and continued down the hall to the left, finally coming to a stop in front of Jihoon’s studio. You gave the door a heavy knock, not expecting him to hear much especially if he had his headphones on. When no response was given for five minutes you pulled out the key he’d given you a long time ago, unlocking the door swiftly and surprised to find the room completely dark.
You flipped on the main light switch to discover the studio completely empty, papers and pens scattered across the desk with ramblings written every which way in the producer's idea notebook. A half assed attempt was made to fix the couch, which was covered by a throw blanket and pillow to indicate he’d been pulling all nighters here again.
You set the sandwich bag and remaining coffee on the little table in front of the couch, whipping your phone out to shoot a text to the sweet overworked producer you called a friend.
Brought you lunch, studio looks like a wreck lol. You been feeling ok?
You grabbed the small trash can beside Woozi’s desk and got to work throwing away the energy drink cans and granola wrappers littering his desk. You were just organizing all of his sheet music when you felt your phone buzz in response.
This songs’ been killing me, man. Couldn’t breathe in that room any more, went to the gym to relieve some stress. I’ll be there in a bit, appreciate you for always worrying about me
You let out an exhale as you slid your blazer off your shoulders and placed it along the back of the desk chair, unable to simply sit and do nothing while he struggled. You of all people knew how frustrating creative blocks could be, but hopefully a cleaner environment would ease his tension a little bit. You took a seat at his chair and scooted yourself up to the computer, logging in to locate the audio file for Maestro that was currently driving its producer up a wall.
Your eyes poured over the desktop, and you quietly cursed Jihoon for never labeling anything properly. ‘Organized Chaos’ he’d call it, but just looking at the screen filled with folders titled ‘Audio Ex1-B67’ gave you no clues as to what actually was stored in each file.
You sighed and decided to start with the icons at the bottom that looked most recent, you clicked. The infamous beat of ‘Adore U’ began to play. You clicked the next one, Wonwoo’s distinct growl filled your ears as you recognized their song ‘Fear’. You closed both files and groaned outwardly, remembering Jihoon discussing the concept of sampling past songs to construct his new one.
You changed your focus towards the folders near the middle of the screen and clicked the first one you saw. It was labeled differently in comparison to the rest, and the audio file inside had no name at all. Just a jumbled arrangement of letters and numbers randomly given by the computer itself. You pressed play, and a completely unfamiliar melody began echoing through the studio speakers.
It was completely unlike anything Jihoon had composed before, it was sweet but also… sensual. Not like the few songs he’d produced for Seventeen that gave a spicier instrumental, this felt more intimate somehow. Almost personal. The slow hum of the strings in the background stole your breath and you felt your heartbeat quicken as a beautifully soft clarinet chorus stole your attention. The energy shifted halfway through, running around from loving and sensual to borderline carnal.
You could practically feel the goosebumps forming as you listened to it. There were no lyrics, but every now and then Jihoon let out a faint vocal riff that was intoxicating. His voice made you melt, and you were too absorbed into the music to feel embarrassed by the warmth making its way through your body. A pleasant buzz ran from the top of your head to the tips of your toes, and you imagined him singing to you. 
You closed your eyes and laid your head back against his chair to really get the full effect, to lean into what the music was trying to make you feel. It amplified everything tenfold, and you began to notice the hints of Jihoon’s cologne that still lingered within the space. Everything about the song, about the room, about the scent, it overwhelmed your senses and you suddenly realized how much you enjoyed it. How easily you’d allow yourself to get overtaken by it all, only if it was him. Only if it was Jihoon.
A guitar chord was plucked sharply in contrast to the soft instrumental, and you gasped in surprise. By this point you had thought the song was simply looping since it had been well over several minutes, but the longer it went on the more you noticed small interesting deviations from the original melody. The pace of the music kept steady, but everytime Jihoon let out another gorgeous riff you could feel the tension increasing slightly.
You almost wanted to break your trance just to throw on a pair of headphones, your body thrumming at thinking about what the song would sound like even more intimately being funneled directly to your ears. A shiver ran through you at the idea as another strain of strings drew you back into the music without another thought. 
A gust of AC provided your senses with yet another strong note of Jihoon’s cologne, at the exact same time the guitar plucked again and his voice echoed beautifully throughout the room. Almost on impulse, your hand reached up to clutch your chest. It trailed downwards slowly, softly grazing your left breast and a quiet hum escaped your lips as your fingers danced along your clothed peak. You bit your lip and pressed lightly into your clothed center with your other hand, sighing how good the pressure felt.
Your head felt empty and dizzy, this kind of touch with these kinds of thoughts about Jihoon were typically reserved for your own bed at home. Never once had you ever allowed such behavior to follow you to work, nevertheless Jihoon’s own studio. You stuttered in your motions as a sliver of guilt ran through you, he was your colleague, he was your friend. This was inappropriate on every single level.
But it was like the music was encouraging you, talking you through it. And almost like it knew you were beginning to have doubts, Jihoon let out the most provocative vocal run you’d never thought possible. Your hand gripped tightly on to your breast in reflex, and the noise you made would’ve been humiliating if you weren’t so focused on every little jolt of pleasure thrumming through your veins.
Before you could think better of it, your right hand moved to hurriedly unbutton the top of your pants. Not bothering to push them down, you dipped your hand into the waistband of your underwear to locate your heated folds and you exhaled at the relief it brought. Your head tilted back and your mouth formed an ‘O’ as the pleasure from your own fingers built steadily, another stray guitar chord causing your body to jolt in gratification.
You weren’t proud of it, but you’d imagined Jihoon touching you like this more times than you could count, especially in this studio. His mouth being unable to detach itself from yours, from your neck, from your chest, from between your legs. Your favorite thing to fantasize about lately was riding him in the very chair you sat in, ending it with a sloppy kiss as he refused to let you remove himself from you. You thought about where he would touch you first, where would you touch him? A silly question, since you knew those gorgeous locks of hair would be tangled between your fingers without a second thought if he so much as allowed it. You wanted him panting in your ears, his voice itself bringing you to an edge that you just needed to fall off of.
Your fingers quickened, and you whined out as you found yourself waiting for another of Jihoon’s vocal riffs to give you that extra push closer to completion. Instead, the clarinet danced throughout your ears, a soft beat echoed from the drums, even a few stray piano notes participated in increasing your tension. It was teasing you, the song knew what you wanted but it refused to give it to you. Another whine was unconsciously pulled from your lips.
“Please… please…” you found yourself whispering out loud, your head spinning as your hand began to cramp up at the speed with which it moved. “God Jihoon, please—“
A loud thud that was definitely not a part of the music ripped you out of your reverie in an instant. Your hand shot away from your breast while the other ripped itself out of your pants as if they were both burned. You swiveled the chair to face the door of the studio, and your heart sunk into your stomach as Jihoon stood front and center with the most frustratingly unreadable expression on his face.
His cheeks were flushed, most likely from the gym but you wouldn’t be surprised if it was partially your own doing as well. His long black hair was messy and slightly damp from sweat, the black tank top and shorts he wore were clinging to his body and giving your indecent mind way too much of a view of his glistening pale skin. His gym bag was on the floor, some of its contents having spilled out including one of his metal water bottles and a small kettlebell, the items proven to be the cause of the thudding sound no doubt.
You simply looked at him for a solid minute, your chest still panting from the near orgasm you’d just experienced and your body still aching from being denied its release. You felt shame, pure and unbridled as he looked you up and down. You hadn’t bothered to button your pants back up, and your shirt and bra were most certainly out of sorts from the iron grip you’d had on it moments before. You looked an absolute mess, and even if he had only come in half a minute ago, there was no hiding or denying what you’d been up to.
“I… I’m…” You began, finding the first few words coming out like gravel in your throat. “Can we just, not talk about this?”
You attempted to appear pitiful, which wasn’t hard considering you wanted nothing more than the ground to swallow you up whole in that very moment. His expression still revealed nothing and you huffed in irritation, running a hand through your hair as you sent him a pleading look. 
“Look, I’m sorry, okay? I don’t know what came over me.” You tried to act normal, turning back to the computer briefly to shut off the music that had become background noise playing softly through the studio. Your heart hammered in your chest. 
“I just…” Jihoon croaked out, attempting to keep a casual composure and failing. Your eyes locked on his, expecting. “I never expected to walk in on—“
“Please! Stop!” You covered your ears in embarrassment and Jihoon had the audacity to chuckle softly. You glared at him. “Don’t even try to tell me you’ve never gotten yourself off here before, you practically live in this place.”
His ears burned red and you felt a bit of relief that you’d hit the nail on its head, a bit of excitement also thrumming through your chest at the image it gave you. You forced yourself to straighten your back and clear your throat, fixing your shirt back into place as you reached down to re-button your pants.
“… You could.. continue. If you wanted to.” Jihoon let out, and you felt your fingers freeze at his words. You looked up to stare at him, his eyes were glassy and his cheeks and ears still burned deeply. But his gaze, his gaze was directly on you.
“… What?” You blinked, unsure if your fogged up brain was simply making you hear hallucinations at this point. Jihoon shifted his weight, making no move to leave.
“I’m the one that interrupted.” He licked his lips, and your eyes latched on to the motion immediately. “I would hate for you to go… unsatisfied because of me.”
He spoke matter of factly, like he was suggesting a different melody for the hook of a song or what they should eat for dinner today. It didn’t sound creepy or odd in his voice at all, just a suggestion from one friend to the other. Your brain reeled, partially excited at the prospect of relieving all the tension your body had winded up, but also anxious as to how Jihoon would see you after this awkward encounter was over.
Despite everything, your core ached at the very thought of being relieved, and you gripped the arms of the chair to ground yourself before responding.
“… I’d appreciate that, then.” You spoke, your own voice sounding unfamiliar. Jihoon’s eyes widened slightly, as if surprised by your answer. He seemed to mull something over as he leaned down to throw the water bottle and kettlebell back in his gym bag, tossing it in the corner of the room.
Your eyes tracked his every move carefully, the way his bicep veins flexed as he lifted the bag and the angle at which his glorious thigh muscles peeked out from beneath the edges of his shorts. Your mouth went dry at the sight, and you couldn’t help the surprised noise you made when he moved to sit on the couch rather than exiting the room.
You raised a brow as he leaned back comfortably, one arm lying across the top of the couch while the other rested atop his front. Your brain flashed a brief image of you crawling into his lap, his arms wrapping around your waist as you hooked your arms around his neck. Pulling him closer, and closer…
You mentally slapped yourself, he literally just sat down.
“Are you not leaving?” You questioned with a frown, unsure of how much longer you were expected to continue acting like you weren’t completely turned on and frustrated. Jihoon shrugged slightly.
“It’s my studio, why would I leave?” He spoke in that tone again, like he was just asking your typical everyday question. It was starting to tick you off.
“You just said I could continue what I was doing.”
“I did.” Your brows scrunched together in confusion.
“… But you’re not gonna leave?”
“Nope.”
Jihoon shifted his legs wider, and you were suddenly aware of just how obvious it was that you were ogling him. The man could’ve moved a pinkie and your eyes would dart to watch it, your posture completely tense and on edge. He smiled a little, and your face warmed as you realized he’d been observing you too.
“You’re just.. gonna sit there then?” Your voice was barely above a whisper as you finally registered what he wanted. You swallowed audibly. “You’re going to watch me?”
“Unless you’d rather go somewhere else.” He suggested, and though Jihoon looked just as invested as you were, it was equally apparent that you still held all the power in the room. If you wanted to leave and decided you were uncomfortable, he wouldn’t stop you from getting up and walking right out. It was his own kind of reassurance, a promise with his eyes that things wouldn’t change between the two of you even if you decided to end it all right then.
Instead, you strengthened your resolve and removed your shirt. You didn’t look at him directly, still a bit too nervous for that. But you heard his sharp intake of breath, and all the hairs on your arm stood up at the sound. The unspoken tension in the air shifted almost immediately, and before you could regret it you forced yourself to completely relax in the chair as you closed your eyes.
Your hand discovered your breast once more, teasing and prodding over the thin material of your bra. A sigh escaped as you squeezed softly, without the music playing you found yourself much more aware and anxious of the eyes staring you down. Your hand dipped tentatively underneath your bra to play with your peak and you squirmed slightly, your center pulsing in excitement and you whimpered at the feeling.
“Fuck…” A groan resounded throughout the studio and you arched your back in surprise at Jihoon’s suddenly rough voice. His cursing made the dim flame sitting in the pit of your stomach burst into a wildfire, and you pinched your nipple with a small squeak. 
It was honestly desperate the way in which you forced your hand back beneath your underwear, unable to contain the desire Jihoon managed to make you feel through that one word alone. Any remaining embarrassment from the situation dissipated as you focused entirely on the pleasure your own fingers provided. You rolled your thumb against your nipple as a finger finally prodded inside your aching core.
“Take it off.” Jihoon practically begged, and your eyes fluttered open to look at him. His pupils had gone nearly completely black, and the arm covering his front seemed to be applying pressure to a now significantly growing bulge in his shorts. You licked your lips which seemed to add fuel to his fire, and he huffed out again. “Your bra, your pants. Take them off.”
You smiled at his weak demand but you stopped your ministrations nevertheless. You stood from your chair on tentative legs, unhooking your bra and letting it fall soundlessly to the ground. The look on Jihoon’s face made you feel warmer than you’d ever thought possible, his jaw clenched tightly and he didn’t even bother to hide the grip he held on his swelling erection.
“That song you wrote, the one that was playing when you came in.” You removed one leg from your pants slowly, then the other. Deliberately teasing the frustrated man across from you. “It was beautiful, your voice suited it perfectly. It felt carnal, like lust incarnate.”
“It was just some late night improv.” He spoke breathlessly, eyeing you hungrily as you sat back down to continue your actions. “I remember you looking especially tempting that day. It took everything in me not to pull up that sinful fucking skirt of yours and throw you up against my desk.”
You gasped at the image and bit down hard on the inside of your cheek to keep from groaning out loud. Your underwear which you’d simply pushed to the side was drenched by that point, and you slowed your pace as you watched Jihoon staring at your fingers fervently. You wanted to give him the best show while you were able, in and out... In… and out.
“Whatever emotions I don’t act on goes straight into those unnamed tracks.” He mumbled out. A deep exhale leaving his lips as the last of his self control seemed to exit his body. “I probably have thirty recordings on there that were created just from me thinking about you.”
You cried out as he spoke, pumping another digit inside your throbbing hole as you ramped up the intensity. You watched eagerly as Jihoon shuffled his shorts down, his own hand tugging his erection harshly put from his underwear with haste. Your fingers stuttered at the sight of him, pale and long with a glistening pink tip. ‘Pretty.’ You couldn’t help but think, practically drooling as you imagined how it would feel to replace your fingers with it.
“What if I told you I want you to act on it?” You panted out, a light sheen of sweat coating your skin as you watched Jihoon pause mid stroke. “What if I told you I want you to fuck me until I’m numb? That I dream about it.”
Jihoon let out his own whimper at your words, and the noise had you keening into your palm. Jihoon increased the pace at which he pumped his hard length, his expression that of a complete wreck. You quickened your fingers in turn, eager to feel as connected to him in pleasure as you were physically able.
“I’d tell you that I’ve pictured pushing you into the glass of my recording studio and falling to my knees since the day we met. I’ve thought about thrusting my tongue into that tight little hole of yours over and over until you can’t be bothered to think straight more times than I can count.” He spoke his words carefully, eyes never once leaving your body as he watched your soaked fingers pump steadily into your cunt. “I want to record the audio of it all. Of you screaming my name as I devour you, the sounds of you panting and begging me to let you cum. It would be the most beautiful fucking sound, my favorite song.”
The moan you released was obscene, the heat in your blood boiling up to unbearable heights as you unconsciously introduced a third finger. Your pants were getting heavier, and you knew the edge was once again spiraling towards you head first. 
“You like that?” Jihoon grunted, a self assured smirk planted on his face contrasting with the desperate way with which he stroked himself. “You enjoy touching yourself while I talk about all the different positions I’ve  wanted to fuck you in?”
You nodded so harshly you wouldn’t be surprised if your neck was sore tomorrow. Your eyes squeezed shut again as the smell of your and Jihoons sweat and fluids consumed your senses, his voice was so much better than the music. The slight neediness mixed with his hungry tone made your knees weak, and you quivered to think of how your body would react if he’d actually been touching you.
“Next time I’ll bend you over my desk, huh?” Jihoon moaned at his own words, the very idea of it seeming to drive him mad. His grip was iron tight as his pumps stuttered and his eyes fluttered closed for a quick  moment before latching once more unto you. “I’ll lean down to your ear and tell you how good you feel around me as I pound every inch into you nice and hard. You’d be so good for me wouldn’t you?”
“Please…” You whispered out as you felt yourself finally reach the peak, your clit throbbing as your other hand reached down to give it a harsh rub. “God Jihoon, please…”
“Are you gonna cum for me, Y/N? I want to see how wrecked you look when you do.” Jihoon panted, his chest heaving as his own release approached rapidly. “Fuck please, say my name when you cum. Say my fucking name—“
“Jihoon!” You couldn’t help but scream out, repeating it over and over again as a complete tidal wave of pleasure roared through you as your body jolted over and over again. The aftershocks were nearly just as strong, and you squeaked out in surprise at just how intense and drawn out your orgasm had been.
By the end of it you were completely limp, not a single muscle functioning properly and your mind a delightfully empty buzz. You managed to open your eyes slightly, finding Jihoon in a nearly identical state with his eyes shut and his arms being completely dead weight hanging by his sides.
Eventually both of your heavy breathing slowed significantly, and those gorgeous eyes of his opened leisurely to lock on to your own. The sudden twinge of worry that you’d crossed too big of a boundary was completely crushed when Jihoon offered you the warmest smile. 
In that moment you swore he was practically glowing, he wasn’t the stressed and overworked producer you’d come to know so well. He looked content, happy, and if you could help him feel that way every day for the rest of your life you knew you’d never have any regrets for as long as you lived. You returned his smile, a chuckle escaping your lips.
“I think you’ve just ruined any chance of me experiencing a normal orgasm ever again.” You giggled, he raised a brow. “I don’t think I’ll ever be able to cum like that again unless I’m listening to one of your songs or something.”
Jihoon groaned, the picture of you touching yourself while listening to his music no doubt clouding his mind. You were both well aware of each other's exhaustion, but god only knew if he wanted another round you wouldn’t even hesitate. Anything to feel that level of intensity again.
“Don’t you ever let me find out you’re trying to get yourself off without me again.” Jihoon threatened weakly, sitting up tentatively to give you a cheeky grin. “I’m a man of my word after all. And we have a lot of positions to try out.”
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bluegiragi · 5 months
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Could we have some more Monster AU lore? Literally about anything in the universe, I really love your lore drops.
well if you insist...(jk i love talking about lore and I'm so super happy you guys let me infodump like this!!)
who wants to learn about dragons and hoards?
So a lot of people mistake hoards as the result of a dragon's passing interests but in reality (for the types of dragon that have this hoard instinct) it's an intense and obsessive compulsion.
Dragons pack a lot of firepower into a relatively dense body, and hoards give them an opportunity to put all that energy somewhere by providing for a hoard's 'needs', whatever they are. In the old times, it was most common for dragons to hoard wealth, land or knowledge but as time went on the variety in subject expanded. Now, hoards can range from innocuous/harmless topics like baseball cards to more complex subjects (like literal living beings).
The darker side to hoard instinct is how intense and possessive it is - the desire to monopolise and satisfy the needs of a hoard is all-encompassing, and it's not unheard of for dragons to go too far. Just like dating, dragons typically go through a few hoards in their lifetime (like passing hyper-fixations) before they find the one thing that'll be their hoard until they die. And after they find that one thing, the rest of their life is in some way dedicated to protecting, caring for and 'leaving their mark' on that thing. A big part of maturing for dragons is learning the self restraint required to not let these urges overtake them and turn them senseless.
Of all topics, hoards that center living beings are by far the most complex simply because living beings have agency and can't be entirely controlled. Price's hoard is the 141, and he has learned over time how to respect the lives of his boys. However, right after his and Ghost's final clash with Roba which resulted in life-changing events for both of them, he realised that he'd already subconsciously made Ghost 'hoard' in his mind.
The two of them fell into a co-dependent and borderline toxic relationship during their recovery. For Ghost, it was a combination of trauma-bonding and also a way to deal with his new powers/afflictions as a wraith. For Price, the recent loss of his wing had him falling back on other measures to help cling onto his dragon identity, and he overcompensated by going way too far on what was already a very fresh and concentrated hoard response. Of course there was still sincere affection backing up all of this, but they both ended up spiralling into something together.
It's always tough being THE hoard starter, as whatever it is will get an exorbitant response that lessens the more a hoard grows. It didn't help that Simon was in one of the most vulnerable and complicated moments of his life post-wraith-transformation. The co-dependency and possessiveness got to a point where higher-ups had to re-instate Price earlier than they wanted to and begin sending him out on missions again so that they could have some time apart. On one of those missions, Price met Gaz, and then later on, Soap.
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facts-i-just-made-up · 5 months
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what are the card suits?
The card suits as commonly known are Spades, Hearts, Clubs, and Diamonds, but is was not always so. Various decks for many games and purposes have different suits including:
Tarot Cards- Swords, Cups, Wands, and Pentacles
Uno Cards- Red, Yellow, Green, and Blue
Credit Cards- Visa, MasterCard, Discover, and American Express
ID Cards- Driver's, Insurance, State, and Social Security
Sports Cards- Baseball, Basketball, Football, and Calvinball
House of Cards- Democrat, Republican, Independent, and Whig
Score Cards- Golf, Mini-Golf, Bowling, and Witcher Romance
Punch Cards- 100100100, 10101011, 10010, and 1001000101010111
Pokémon Cards- Electric, Grass, Poison, and Planeswalker
Orson Scott Cards- Ender, Alvin, Homecoming, and Ravenous Homophobic Bloggings That Sully His Entire Body Of Work
Hallmark Cards- Thank You, Happy Birthday, Condolences, and "Sorry I Got Semen In Your Eye" (yes I know that was a cake)
Alu Cards- Castlevania, Hellsing, Waverly, and no joke, my friend Alucard J***** from when I was in college at CU Boulder. We met because you could look up people by name on the school website like pre-facebook and spam bots and see their info and email and I looked up the name as a joke and there was one guy and I emailed him like "Dude your name is Dracula backwards!" and it turned out he's related to Bram Stoker and goes to these meetings of his family in Ireland each year and I went with him once and met this girl named Ryann and we hit it off and walked around talking way late into the night and then she turned into a bat and left and I never saw her again and when I went back to tell Alucard, there was no trace of him at college or anywhere else and it turns out Stoker's family all died off in the early 1900s. True story.
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dailyrothko · 30 days
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No, the Popularity of Abstract Art is Not the Result of a CIA PsyOp
If you are unlucky enough to move around the internet these days and talk about art, you’ll find that many “First commenters” will hit you with what they see as some hard truth about your taste in art. Comments usually start with how modern art is “money laundering” always comically misunderstanding what that means. What they are saying is that, of course, rich people use investments as tax shelters and things like expensive antiques and art appraised at high prices to increase their net worth. Oh my god, I’ve been red-pilled. The rich getting richer? I have never heard of such a thing.
What is conveniently left out of this type of comment is that the same valuation and financial shenanigans occur with baseball cards, wine, vacation homes, guitars, and dozens of other things. It does indeed happen with art, but even the kind that the most conservative internet curator can appreciate. After all, Rembrandts are worth money too, you just don’t see many because he’s not making any more of them. The only appropriate response to these people who are, almost inevitably themselves, the worst artists you have ever seen, is silence. It would cruel to ask about their own art because there’s a danger they might actually enjoy such a truly novel experience.
When you are done shaking your head that you just subjected yourself to an argument about the venality of poor artists plotting to make their work valuable after they died, you can certainly then enjoy the accompanying felicity of the revelation they have saved to knock you off your feet: “Abstract art is a CIA PsyOp”
Here one must get ready either to type a lot or to simply say “Except factually” and go along your merry, abstract-art-loving way. But what are the facts? Unsurprisingly with things involving US government covert operations, the facts are not so clear.
Like everything on the internet, you are unlikely to find factual roots to the arguments about government conspiracies and modern art. The mere idea of it is enough to bring blossom for the “I’m not a sheep” crowd, some of whom believe that a gold toilet owning former president is a morally good, honest hard-working man of the people.
The roots of this contention come from a 1973 article in Artforum magazine, where art critic Max Kozloff wrote about post-war American painting in the context of the Cold War, centering around Irving Sandler’s book, The Triumph of American Painting (1970). Kozloff takes on more than just abstract expressionism in his article but condemns the “Self-congratulatory mood”of Sandler’s book and goes on to suggest the rise of abstract expressionism was a “Benevolent form of propaganda”. Kozoloff treads a difficult line here, asserting that abstraction was genuinely important to American art but that its luminaries, “have acquired their present blue-chip status partly through elements in their work that affirm our most recognizable norms and mores.”
While there were rumblings of agreements around Kozloff’s article of broad concerns, it did not give birth to an actual conspiracy theory at the time. The real public apprehension of this idea seems to mostly come from articles written by historian Frances Stonor Saunders in support of her book, “The Cultural Cold War: The CIA and the World of Arts and Letters” (New York, New Press, 2000). (I have not read this 525 page book, only excerpts).
The gist of Ms. Saunders argument is a tantalizing, but mostly unsupported, labyrinthine maze of back door funding and novelistic cloak and dagger deals. According to Saunders, the Congress for Cultural Freedom (CCF), an anti-communist cultural organization founded in 1950, was behind the promotion of Abstract art as part of their effort to be opinion makers in the war against communism. In 1966 it was revealed that the CCF was funded by the CIA. Saunders says that the CCF financed a litany of art exhibitions including “The New American Painting” which toured Europe in the late 1950s. Some of this is true, but it’s difficult, if not impossible, to know the specifics.
Noted expert in abstract-expressionism, David Anfam said CIA presence was real. It was “a well-documented fact” that the CIA co-opted Abstract Expressionism in their propaganda war against Russia. “Even The New American Painting [exhibition] had some CIA funding behind it,” he says. But the reasons for this are not quite what the abstract art detractors might be looking for. After all, the CCF also funded the travel expenses for the Boston Symphony Orchestra and promoted Fodor’s travel guides. More than trying to pull the wool over anyone’s eyes, it was meant to showcase the freedom artists in the US. enjoyed. Or as Anfam goes on to say, “It’s a very shrewd and cynical strategy, because it showed that you could do whatever you liked in America.”
For what it’s worth, Saunders’s book was eviscerated in the Summer 2000 issue of Art Forum at the time of its publication. Robert Simon wrote:
“Saunders draws extensively on primary and secondary sources, focusing on the convoluted money trail as it twists through dummy corporations, front men, anonymous donors, and phony fund-raising events aimed at filling the CCF’s coffers. She makes lengthy forays into such topics as McCarthyism, the formation and operation of the CIA, the propaganda work of the Hollywood film industry, and New York cultural politics—from Partisan Review to MoMA to Abstract Expressionism. Yet what seems strangely absent from Saunders’s panoramic history, as if it were a minor detail or something too obvious to require discussion, is the cultural object itself: The complex specifics of the texts, exhibitions, intellectual gatherings, paintings, and performances of the culture war are largely left out of the story.”
Another problem with the book seems to be that Saunders is an historian but not an art historian. For me, I sensed an overtone of superiority in the tale she’s spinning and most assuredly from those that repeat its conclusion. The thinly veiled message of some is that if it were “Real art” it would not have had be part of this government subterfuge. The reality is very different. For one thing, most of us know it is simply not true that you can make people devoted to a type of art for 100 years that they would sensibly hate otherwise. Another issue is that it’s quite obvious none of the artists actually knew about any government interference if there was any. Pollock, Rothko, Gottlieb and Newmann were all either communists or anarchists. Hardly the group one would recruit the help the US government free the world of communism. Additionally, this narrow cold war timeline ignores a huge amount of abstract art that Jackson Pollock haters also revile and consider part of the same hijacking of high (Frankly, Greek, Roman, or Renaissance) culture. If you look at the highly abstract signature work of Piet Mondrian and observe the dates they were painted, you’ll see 1908, 1914, 1916. This is some of the art denigrated as a CIA PsyOP, 35 years before the CIA even thought about it. Modern art didn’t come from nowhere as many would have you believe to discredit its rise. There was Surrealism, Dada, Bauhaus, Russian futurism and a host of other movements that fueled it.
Generally, people like to argue. On the internet, “I don’t like this” is a weak statement that always must be replaced by “This is garbage” or my favorite, “This is fake.”
It’s hardly surprising that the more conservative factions of our society look for any government involvement in our lives to explain why things are not exactly as they wish them to be, given the (highly ironic) conservative government-blaming that blew up after Reagan. In addition, modern fascists have always had a love affair with the classical fantasy of Greece and Rome. Both Mussolini and Hitler used Greece and Rome as “Distant models” to address their uncertain national identity. The Nazis confiscated more than 5,000 works in German museums, presenting 650 of them in the Entartete Kunst (Degenerate Art, 1937) show to demonstrate the perverted nature of modern art. It featured artists including Marc Chagall, Max Ernst, Wassily Kandinsky, and Paul Klee, among others. The fear of art was real. It was the fear of ideas.
To a lot of people on the internet just the mentioning a “CIA program” is enough to get the cogs turning, but as with many things, the reality of CIA programs and government plots is often less than evidence of well planned coup.
The CIA reportedly spent 20 millions dollars on Operation Acoustic Kitty which intended to use cats to spy on the Kremlin and Soviet embassies. Microphones were planted on cats and plans were set in motion to get the cats to surreptitiously record important conversations. However, the CIA soon discovered that they were cats and not agreeable to any kind of regulation of their behavior.
As part of Operation Mongoose the CIA planned to undermine Castro's public image by putting thallium salts in his shoes, which would cause his beard to fall out, while he was on a trip outside Cuba. He was expected to leave his shoes outside his hotel room to be polished, at which point the salts would be administered. The plan was abandoned because Castro canceled the trip.
Regardless of your feelings on this subject or how much you believe abstract art benefited from government dollars, Saunders herself quotes in her book a CIA officer apparently involved in these “Long leash” influence operations. He says, “We wanted to unite all the people who were writers, who were musicians, who were artists, to demonstrate that the West and the United States was devoted to freedom of expression and to intellectual achievement, without any rigid barriers as to what you must write, and what you must say, and what you must do.” Hardly the Illuminati plot we were promised.
In 2016, Irving Sandler, author of the book that started Kozloff tirading in 1973, told Alastair Sooke of The Daily Telegraph, “There was absolutely no involvement of any government agency. I haven’t seen a single fact that indicates there was this kind of collusion. Surely, by now, something – anything – would have emerged. And isn’t it interesting that the federal government at the time considered Abstract Expressionism a Communist plot to undermine American society?”
This blog post contains information and quotes sourced from The Piper Played to Us All: Orchestrating the Cultural Cold War in the USA, Europe, and Latin America, Russell H. Bartley International Journal of Politics, Culture, and Society, Vol. 14, No. 3 (Spring, 2001), pp. 571-619 (49 pages) https://www.bbc.com/culture/article/20161004-was-modern-art-a-weapon-of-the-cia https://brill.com/view/journals/fasc/8/2/article-p127_127.xml?language=en https://www.guggenheim-bilbao.eus/en/learn/schools/teachers-guides/the-dark-side-of-classicism https://www.artforum.com/features/american-painting-during-the-cold-war-212902/ https://www.independent.co.uk/news/world/modern-art-was-cia-weapon-1578808.html https://www.artforum.com/columns/frances-stonor-saunders-162391/ https://www.artforum.com/features/abstract-expressionism-weapon-of-the-cold-war-214234/ Mark Rothko and the Development of American Modernism 1938-1948 Jonathan Harris, Oxford Art Journal, Vol. 11, No. 1 (1988), pp. 40-50 (11 pages)
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