#even between a player and a reader there’s a love story
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majinael · 2 days ago
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"i need a friends to lovers kaiser x reader fic with a deep focus on his trauma and his toxic coping mechanisms and he's slowly doing better thanks to the reader, healthy love with the reader heals him, and he learns what it is to be loved :((
i don't want smut i want DEEP EMOTIONAL INTIMACY !!!!!!
i swear people don't get his character like i do, my baby needs LOVE"
from @krys4h
here we go for a part 1 :3
★michael kaiser x she/her pronouns reader (can be interpreted as GN)
★3,6k words
★songs associated : one & two
I had known Michael Kaiser since the day I was assigned as the team’s nurse. In my line of work, I’d learned to connect with every player on a professional yet friendly level—it was part of treating them with care. Most of them warmed up to me quickly, eager to share stories or jokes during their treatment sessions. But Kaiser? He was something else entirely.
Rarely injured, he was almost like a ghost in my office. When I did see him, it was brief, and he would insist he didn’t need anything. His arrogance would radiate even in those fleeting moments, accompanied by a dismissive smirk that said, I’m untouchable.
During my breaks, I often watched the team train from the sidelines or walked through the gym and facilities. It was fascinating to observe them push their limits, but truthfully, I was never particularly drawn to football. It felt more like a job perk than a passion.
The first real conversation I had with Kaiser wasn’t in my office or the gym but on the field during an unplanned encounter. After sitting at my desk for hours, buried in work, I needed a breather. Wandering aimlessly, I found myself by the field. It was supposed to be empty, yet there he was, surrounded by several soccer balls lying on the damp grass.
I stopped, my curiosity piqued as I watched him shoot a goal with such precision and power that it left me speechless. The ball sliced through the air like it was destined for the net, hitting its mark flawlessly.
“Impressive,” I murmured aloud, my voice breaking the silence.
Kaiser turned, his signature cocky smile already plastered on his face as his gaze landed on me. “Of course it is,” he replied smoothly, his ego inflating visibly. But before he could bask in my compliment, I raised an eyebrow and added, “But can you actually pull that off in a real match?”
He chuckled, the sound rich and almost condescending. “I wouldn’t train something useless,” he retorted, brushing off the challenge. But then, to my surprise, he launched into an explanation of the technique. “The Kaiser Impact Magnus,” he called it, and as he spoke, his words were laced with passion and precision.
I was captivated. His knowledge and ability to articulate something so complex left me staring, wide-eyed.
“That’s... wow,” I said, genuinely impressed. “You’re really smart. I’ve never seen or heard anything like it. Would you mind if I watched you play? I promise I won’t be a bother.”
He smirked, tilting his head arrogantly. “Of course, you’d want to watch. Sit still, pretty.”
For the next hour, I sat on the barrier of the field, watching him train. His movements were mesmerizing—the way his blue-tipped hair framed his sharp features, the rise and fall of his chest as he pushed himself relentlessly, the calculation in his eyes as he analyzed every play. It wasn’t just skill; it was artistry.
I couldn’t help but stare, completely unaware of the stray ball ricocheting off the goalpost and hurtling toward me until it struck me square in the face.
Pain exploded across my nose as I fell back onto the wet grass. My vision blurred, and as I tried to gather my bearings, I heard footsteps approaching.
Kaiser loomed over me, his expression torn between amusement and mild concern. “Could’ve dodged that, y’know,” he said, a faint chuckle escaping. “Really, I can’t tell if you’re lucky or unlucky. The ball usually doesn’t even come this way.”
Blinking up at him with an innocent, dazed expression, I felt a sharp sting of both pain and embarrassment. My nose throbbed relentlessly, blood trickling down onto my shirt, while specks of wet dirt clung stubbornly to my cheek. He crouched slightly, pulling a tissue from his bag nearby, and for a fleeting moment, I noticed something unusual in his eyes—an almost imperceptible softness that seemed out of place.
What was he seeing? Whatever it was, it must have stirred something unfamiliar in his chest. I remembered an interview where he mentioned his fascination with faces of despair, but I doubted that was what I wore now. No, this wasn’t despair—it was vulnerability, raw and unguarded,I looked just like a defenseless kid and it lingered between us like a secret neither of us knew how to acknowledge.
“Don’t look at me like it was intentional,” he added, rolling his eyes. “Here. Wipe that off. You look horrible.”
Taking the tissue, I stood unsteadily, trying to laugh off my humiliation. “At least I’m fully awake now,” I joked, though my cheeks burned with embarrassment.
My optimism seemed to amuse him. He smirked, returning to his training, but as droplets of rain began to fall from the sky, I lingered.
“It’s raining,” I called out, expecting him to follow me inside. When he didn’t respond, I hesitated. “Michael? Are you not coming inside? You’ll get sick. Training can wait.”
He shrugged without looking at me, the raindrops glistening in his hair. “Worry about yourself. I’m fine.”
Something about his nonchalance struck a nerve. If I were as talented, as admired, as incredible as him, wouldn’t I take better care of myself? Yet, there he was, drenched in rain, pushing himself as though he had something to prove.
I watched him for a moment longer before turning away, a strange ache settling in my chest. Back in my office, I tried to focus on work, but the sight of him—so brilliant, yet so reckless—stayed with me. It wasn’t the first time I noticed how different he was from the others, but now, for some reason, I couldn’t shake the thought.
And for the first time, I wondered what it was that drove Michael Kaiser to treat himself like he was anything less than extraordinary.
The next morning, I made my way to the cafeteria at around 9 a.m., craving a much-needed coffee. While chatting casually with the bartender, I heard familiar footsteps behind me. Turning around with my coffee in hand, I spotted Kaiser lounging on one of the couches, his attention fixed on the TV replaying football matches.
A small smile tugged at my lips as I approached him. His usual cocky posture remained intact, but something about his red-tinted nose caught my attention. Without hesitation, I plopped down beside him.
“Red nose... Is someone sick?” I teased lightly, trying to catch his attention.
His infamous grin spread across his face, almost as if it were second nature. “Mind your business,” he quipped, barely sparing me a glance.
I chuckled, shaking my head. “Well actually, I’m the nurse. This is my business.”
That seemed to catch him off guard. He turned to me, his grin softening into something that resembled amusement. “Fair,” he conceded, “but I’m not sick. Some idiot just threw a ball at me.”
“Oh, that’s funny,” I replied, raising an eyebrow. “Because that happened to me recently too.”
His gaze narrowed, a playful glint lighting up his striking blue eyes. “Are you calling me an idiot?” he asked, leaning slightly toward me, his tone light but teasing.
The sheer audacity of the situation made me burst into laughter, while I was taking a sip—resulting in the coffee exploding spectacularly all over my white shirt and on my face.
For a moment, silence hung between us before Kaiser’s eyes widened in disbelief. Then came his reaction: “You look insanely stupid right now,” he deadpanned, his lips twitching.
“I know,” I mumbled, my cheeks burning as I avoided his stare, mortified by my rather unusual clumsiness.
His laugh was instant and unrestrained, echoing in the nearly empty cafeteria. But it wasn’t his usual mocking chuckle; no, this laugh seemed genuine. His shoulders shaking as his eyes grew watery. It was... different. And somehow, the sound pulled me in.
Caught up in the absurdity of the situation and the rare warmth of his laughter, I found myself laughing too—though not at the coffee-stained mess I’d become, but as an answer to his laugh. Seeing Michael Kaiser, of all people, like this was oddly disarming.
“I should probably clean this up,” I said awkwardly after a moment, standing up to leave.
His gaze lingered on me as I walked away. I could feel it like a weight on my back, even as I disappeared into the hallway.
Left alone, Kaiser’s attention shifted to his reflection in the darkened TV screen. For a fleeting second, he caught sight of himself wearing an unguarded, genuine smile. It vanished as quickly as it had appeared.
“She’s an idiot,” he though.
He shook his head, refocusing on the replay, but the corners of his mouth twitched again, the thought of witnessing another one of my shenanigans lingering in his mind far longer than he cared to admit.
As the day unfolded, I buried myself in paperwork for two and a half hours before rushing to the field. He was still there.
This would become a habit—an unspoken agreement. Neither of us addressed it, but it was clear.
When I approached, his trademark smirk appeared. "Are you stalking me, or are you missing me already?" he asked, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
I chuckled in response, leaning casually against the barrier. Before I could come up with a clever retort, he shot a ball directly at me. I barely dodged it this time.
"Good reflexes," he said with a slow clap, clearly entertained.
"Are you trying to kill me?" I shot back, sarcasm masking the adrenaline still pumping through my veins. My heart raced, but I kept my composure.
The ball rolled to a stop behind me. I picked it up and shot it back at him with, let’s say… slightly less precision. The ball missed him completely and soared into the goal instead.
His expression was a mix of disbelief and annoyance. "Lucky shot," he muttered.
I grinned triumphantly. "Skill only."
He scoffed. "Tch." And with that, he turned his back to me, resuming his drills, pretending I no longer existed.
I stood closer than usual now, watching him. "Don’t you have a water bottle?" I asked.
"Some idiot stole mine today," he grumbled. "When I find out who it is—"
I couldn’t help but laugh softly. If I were the culprit, I’d want to stay far, far away from Michael Kaiser.
Time passed, and at some point, he noticed me on the other side of the field, awkwardly mimicking his movements.
"That’s not how it’s done," he called out, exasperation lacing his tone.
He placed a ball on the ground, letting it roll for a moment before striking it with flawless precision. "Like that."
"You make it look easy," I said, walking closer to the goal. "Maybe I should try from here."
I attempted his move, but as the ball ricocheted off the goalpost and left the field I looked up at him.
"You’re terrible at this," he said, barely hiding his amusement.
"Good thing I’m not a footballer," I shot back. "But I can’t say you’re a good teacher."
His eyebrow arched. "It’s not difficult, you idiot."
"Not for the great Michael Kaiser," I teased with a chuckle.
He rolled his eyes but, to my surprise, set up another ball. This time, he explained each step while executing the move.
"That wasn’t so bad was it?" I asked proudly, succeeding after his clearer explanation.
He ignored me, returning to his training with a quiet huff.
I leaned against the goalpost, watching him intently. "I wish someone had taught me how to play football too. It looks so fun when you do it."
"Too?" he asked, his tone sharp. "I learned how to play alone."
I blinked, surprised. "No way. Your parents must’ve been amazing athletes then."
That’s when everything froze. He stopped mid-step, and for a moment, even the soft drizzle seemed to halt.
A lump formed in my throat. Had I said something wrong?
Without turning to me, he replied bitterly, "No, they're not."
The weight of his words hung heavy in the air, driving an invisible wedge between us. I felt like I’d crossed a line I didn’t even know existed.
Instinct told me to leave, so I did—quietly, without another word.
I spent the night overthinking it all, replaying the scene in my mind. For days, I didn’t see even a shadow of him. He hadn’t left his usual spots; our timings just seemed to miss each other.
And it left me wondering: What the hell just happened?
That was until I was called onto the field during a training match. Noel Noa scolded me lightly for not being there as I usually was, but the weight of my guilt over the situation with Kaiser left me too drained to respond.
A player had injured himself, and “as usual”, he refused to seek my help. I had a small idea of who it might be.
Fate had an odd sense of humor, I thought, bringing us together in the most inconvenient ways.
As I approached him, he sat on the grass, glaring down at it as though it had personally offended him. His posture screamed irritation, his jaw clenched tightly.
“Hello, Michael,” I greeted, keeping my voice even.
No answer. Just a sharp glare in my direction, like a dagger aimed straight at my chest. I swallowed hard.
“Let me take care of you,” I offered.
“I told him I didn’t need your medical attention. What part of that does he not understand?” His tone was biting, his disdain palpable.
I sighed softly and crouched in front of him. “Michael.”
His eyes widened slightly at the sound of his name before flicking away from mine.
“Please,” I continued, my voice gentler. “At least let me take a look.”
He let out an exasperated sigh, as if granting me a favor, and muttered, “I don’t need your help.”
“But I need your well-being,” I countered, my voice cracking faintly.
“No, you don’t,” he shot back, his tone quieter this time. “I’ll be fine.”
I tilted my head, offering him a patient smile. “I doubt Noel will let you play unless you let me take a look.”
That argument seemed to hit its mark. Reluctantly, he pulled his hand from his pocket. It was smeared with sticky, drying blood. Someone must have stepped on it with their cleats. My stomach churned imagining the pain it must have been.
I sat down beside him and took his injured hand gently in mine, studying the wound. “This might sting a little,” I warned as I began cleaning the blood away with alcohol and tissues.
“Does it hurt?” I asked, focused on my task.
When I glanced up, I noticed his expression had softened. It wasn’t the usual arrogance or anger I’d come to associate with him—it was something different, quieter, almost vulnerable.
I continued cleaning the wound, careful and deliberate, as though I were handling something fragile. When I finished, I held his hand for a moment longer than necessary, expecting him to snatch it back. But he didn’t.
There was something profoundly strange about his demeanor. He sat there, a paradox of composure and vulnerability, his posture steady yet his eyes betraying a depth of confusion I’d never seen before. His gaze held an unnameable expression, something I couldn’t quite decipher, as if the moment we’d just shared was far more intimate than either of us had anticipated. The silence between us was heavy, not with tension, but with the weight of something unspoken, something fragile.
“Hey, Michael?” I asked softly. His head turned toward me, but he said nothing.
“Are you okay?” I added with a bright smile.
Still silence.
I stood up and rummaged through my bag. “Here,” I said, holding out a water bottle. “When Noel told me what happened, I knew it was you. I remembered you said someone stole yours last week.”
His gaze flicked between the bottle and me, and for a moment, I thought he might refuse.
So much gentleness and care all of a sudden was probably more than he could comprehend but he gently took it and looked up at me all in silence.
“I’ll tell Noel you’re good to go. If you need your bandages changed or anything else, my office is always open,” I said, standing.
As I walked away, I felt a quiet sense of accomplishment, as though I’d just witnessed something rare and fleeting—a glimpse of the real Michael Kaiser, the one hidden beneath the sharp edges and icy walls.
When I returned to Noel and reported that Kaiser was ready, he called him back to the field with a simple gesture. I sat on the sidelines, watching Michael play with an attentiveness I hadn’t felt before.
To me, he wasn’t just Michael Kaiser, the arrogant genius striker. He was someone I could call a friend. A friend I was proud to have, even if he could never know.
hiiii! I am trying so so hard to keep him in character xo, I hope you like this first part, the second part is here ;) don't hesitate to give me feedback love y'all
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echo-riot · 5 hours ago
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Opposites Attract ||highschool!Sevika x reader||
Synopsis: Sevika is the untouchable, tough-as-nails hockey star who keeps everyone at arm’s length, while you’re the kind-hearted, gentle soul who always puts others before yourself. When a random seating arrangement forces you two together in your last-hour English class, neither of you expect much. But as the weeks pass, small moments of connection begin to shift the dynamic between you. Over time, you both learn that opposites really do attract in the most unexpected, heartwarming way.
Warnings: Swearing, Slow burn romance, Opposites attract trope, Strong language, tough love, and sarcasm
•|||——————————————————————||•
The hum of the classroom buzzes in your ears as your English teacher, Mr. Kline, starts scribbling names on the chalkboard in his typical fashion. His voice drones on in the background, rattling off the seating chart for the day. You’re just hoping he doesn’t pair you with someone who’ll be a nightmare to work with. You’re already tired from the first few hours of class, and the last thing you need is a partner who’ll drag you down or make the whole process unbearable.
Then it happens. Mr. Kline announces the changes. You glance down at your notebook, trying to tune out his voice, but your ears catch one name that makes you freeze: Sevika.
Your stomach drops. Fuck. Not her.
You glance up, catching a glimpse of her towering frame at the back of the room. Her usual scowl is firmly in place as she slouches in her seat, arms crossed. You already know what everyone else is thinking: “Ogre,” the nickname they’ve given her because of her size and tough-as-nails persona. She doesn’t care, though. She doesn’t care about anyone’s opinion—hell, she doesn’t even care about school most of the time. She’s a hockey player, a badass, a walking legend in this place. And you? You’re just… you.
Kind-hearted, thoughtful, the girl who spends way too much time trying to help everyone, even the assholes who don’t deserve it. You’re not used to having your name whispered in the same breath as Sevika’s. She’s the kind of girl you’d avoid if you had any common sense. But for some damn reason, fate decided you’d be seated next to her for the rest of the semester.
You take a deep breath and adjust your glasses, preparing for whatever the hell this is going to be. Maybe it won’t be as bad as you think. Maybe she’s not as much of a dick as people say. Maybe you’ll be able to do your part and survive this project without being dragged into some awkward confrontation.
The bell rings, and Mr. Kline directs you to your new seats. As you walk to the back of the room, you see Sevika staring out the window, her elbow resting lazily on the desk. She’s in her usual getup—an oversized hoodie, ripped jeans, and the varsity jacket that makes her look even more like the queen of this place. Her short, choppy hair barely moves as she turns her head, her sharp grey eyes narrowing at you like a predator sizing up its next meal.
You clear your throat and approach the desk, trying to act like you’ve got this whole “partnering with Sevika” thing under control.
“Hey, Sevika,” you say, offering her a tentative smile. “Looks like we’re working together.”
She doesn’t immediately respond. Her gaze flickers to you for a brief moment, but it’s not a warm welcome. It’s the kind of look someone gives when they’re trying to decide whether or not they should punch you in the face.
“Yeah, whatever,” she mutters, returning her attention to the window.
Well, that’s a great start. You swallow and sit down next to her, fumbling with your notebook as you try to hide the awkward tension building between you. The thing is, you can’t blame her. You’ve heard all the stories. Sevika doesn’t have time for people who don’t know how to handle themselves. You’re pretty sure she considers kindness a weakness, and right now, you’re about as far from “tough” as you can get.
For the first few minutes, there’s silence. Complete and utter silence. You can hear the quiet shuffle of papers from the rest of the class, the occasional hum of the air conditioning, and the ticking of the clock on the wall. But Sevika doesn’t even seem to notice. Her pencil moves across her notebook in slow, deliberate strokes, and you catch glimpses of what she’s drawing—something abstract, chaotic, maybe even a little disturbing.
The longer you sit next to her, the more you start to feel like an intruder in her personal space. You’re trying to ignore the way she’s slowly making you feel more and more self-conscious, like you’re just a bug she’s tolerating. But you can’t help it. She’s intimidating. She’s tough, and you’re not. She doesn’t need anyone, especially not you.
And yet, despite the obvious discomfort radiating from Sevika, you can’t help but try. You want to make this work. You want to get along with her, even if everyone else is too scared to even look her in the eye.
“So… what do you think about this project?” You ask, offering the faintest of smiles as you open your textbook and flip to the assignment. “I think we’re supposed to write about—”
“Don’t care,” she interrupts with a grunt, rolling her eyes. She pushes the notebook aside and leans back in her chair, one leg stretched out in front of her as she rests her hands behind her head. “I’m just here so I don’t get detention, so don’t expect me to do much.”
Your mouth dries as you nod. Of course, you didn’t expect her to be a team player.
Mr. Kline announces the start of the project and asks everyone to get into pairs. Everyone groans, except for you. You’re used to working alone, but this time, you’re stuck with Sevika, and you know there’s no way out. You glance at her, hoping she might offer some small inkling of interest in the project, but no. She’s busy staring at the ceiling, barely giving a damn.
You sigh, pushing your hair out of your face as you try to think of a way to get her to participate.
“Sevika, do you want to divide the work or just wing it?” you ask, leaning a bit closer to her in an attempt to get her attention.
She snorts, not even looking at you. “Does it look like I give a shit about school projects?”
You can’t help but laugh nervously. “I guess I’ll do the writing, then. You can handle the research part?”
Sevika gives you a blank stare. “Yeah, sure. Whatever. Just don’t make me do anything that requires moving.”
You nod, already feeling like this is going to be the longest hour of your life.
Throughout the class, Sevika barely pays attention, her pencil still moving across the pages of her notebook, probably doodling whatever mess is bouncing around in her head. You take careful notes, trying to focus on the project while pretending it doesn’t bother you that she’s completely zoning out.
When it’s time to head to the library after class, you gather your things. “Ready to go?” you ask.
She grunts but doesn’t respond. Instead, she stands up, stretching her arms above her head and then walks out the door without another word. You scramble to catch up with her, trying to hide how out of place you feel next to her.
You follow her to the library, where Sevika flops down into a chair at one of the tables in the back. You pull out your laptop and begin to work, trying to make progress on the project despite the looming silence hanging between you two.
After a while, you can’t help but look up at her. She’s still doodling, her eyes focused intensely on the page. The aggressive scowl that usually defines her expression has softened just a little, and you almost wonder if there’s a glimpse of vulnerability behind the tough exterior.
You clear your throat. “You ever think about what you want to do after high school?” you ask, trying to break the silence.
Sevika doesn’t look up from her notebook. “Not really.” She shrugs. “I’ll probably just keep playing hockey. Doesn’t matter.”
You want to push more, to get her to open up just a little, but you don’t. You know better than to push someone like Sevika, especially when she’s clearly not interested in chatting. Instead, you focus on the project in front of you, determined to make this work, no matter how difficult she might be.
And even though the air between you two is thick with tension, you know one thing for sure: this semester is going to be a hell of a ride.
•||——————————————————————||•
The mornings are always cold, especially this time of year. The chill seeps through your jacket, biting at your skin as you head toward the school’s entrance. It’s early, the kind of time when most students are dragging themselves out of bed, scrambling to get their things together, or—like Sevika—already halfway through a grueling morning workout. You’ve seen her in the gym before, that intimidating presence of hers dominating the place as if the weights themselves trembled in her grip. It’s no surprise that she’s known as a beast on the ice, but somehow that intimidating side of her feels like a mask she wears to shield herself from everyone else.
Today, though, you’re not thinking about her as “the girl with a scowl that could cut glass.” No, you’re thinking about her as someone who’s obviously been burning the candle at both ends. You saw the signs yesterday: her eyelids heavy with fatigue, her movements slower than usual as she shuffled to class after practice. She barely participated in the project work, her pencil moving through her notebook in lazy, almost uninterested strokes. That wasn’t Sevika. Or maybe it was. Maybe, under all that tough exterior, there was something more to her that no one ever bothered to look for.
And so, with a sense of quiet determination, you stop by the café on your way into school. The coffee shop is crowded with early risers, but you manage to snag a large black coffee and a bagel. It’s not much, but you know it’s the kind of thing that could make someone’s day a little less miserable. It’s something you would’ve appreciated, so why wouldn’t Sevika?
You make your way to your usual seat in the back of the English class, hoping to catch her before she sinks into her usual routine of silence and indifference. You know she’s already in her seat when you walk in—the space next to her looking more like a battlefield than anything else. As usual, she’s hunched in her chair, hoodie pulled over her head, earbuds tucked in so tightly you doubt she hears a thing.
Sevika’s like a damn fortress, and you’re not sure if you’re trying to break through or just knock at the door.
“Hey, Sev,” you say, your voice a bit louder than usual, in case she’s zoned out again. “Got you something.”
She looks up from her notebook, those sharp grey eyes narrowing at you for a beat, as if trying to read your motives. When her gaze falls to the coffee cup in your hand, her expression softens—just a fraction, but enough to notice. It’s almost as if she’s surprised.
“Yeah?” She grunts, her voice still a bit rough from too many late nights. “What’s this, some kind of pity offering?”
You shrug, not wanting to make it weird. “Nah, just figured you could use a pick-me-up.” You set the coffee down in front of her with a quiet clink, watching as her fingers hover over the handle for a moment before she takes it. Her usual stoic expression doesn’t falter, but there’s something in her eyes—a flicker of something deeper.
“Thanks,” she mutters, clearly not used to someone offering her something without expecting anything in return. You don’t wait for her to respond beyond that. You take your seat and start unpacking your things, giving her space.
The first few minutes are quiet, just like always. You crack open your notebook, getting ready to dive into the classwork, but something feels different today. There’s an odd tension between you two, like she’s trying to figure you out in a way that she hasn’t before. Every so often, you catch her glancing at you over the rim of the coffee cup, her lips twitching as if she’s trying not to say something sarcastic or dismissive.
You decide to try again. This time, you don’t just talk at her. You actually listen to her.
“Anything interesting in that sketch of yours?” you ask, nodding toward the open notebook on her desk. “Looks like you’re working on something pretty intense.”
Sevika’s eyes flick to her notebook, where a few jagged lines are scrawled across the page. The artwork isn’t exactly graceful—nothing like the stuff you’d find in a gallery—but there’s something undeniably captivating about the way she draws. It’s raw. It’s chaotic. You can practically feel the frustration that bleeds out of every line.
She hesitates before shrugging. “It’s just a thing. Nothing special.”
The next morning is the same: cold and gray, but this time, you have an extra coffee in hand—two this time, just in case. You stop by the café on your way into school again, and this time, you don’t hesitate. You pick out the same large black coffee and bagel, and you add one more for her. You know it’s a bit forward, maybe even a little weird, but after yesterday, you figure you might as well keep trying. If anything, it’ll be a small act of kindness in a place that doesn’t exactly hand out second chances.
When you arrive in class, you spot Sevika already sitting at the back, just like usual. She doesn’t even look up when you walk in, so you make your way over to her desk. You set the coffee in front of her, waiting for her to acknowledge it. When she finally looks up, she catches sight of the second cup and raises an eyebrow.
“Why the hell are you always trying to bribe me?” she asks, clearly suspicious, but there’s no bite to her words.
You offer her a playful smile. “Just thought you might need it.”
Sevika snorts. “I’m not a charity case, you know.”
“Yeah, I know.” You sit down next to her again, pulling out your own coffee. “But I’ve seen you running on empty lately, and I’m just trying to help.”
She looks at the coffee for a long second before finally taking it. She doesn’t say anything at first, just stares into the dark liquid like she’s trying to figure out what you want in return.
But then, just as she takes a sip, she mutters something that surprises you.
“Thanks… I guess.”
It’s a small thing, but it’s enough to make you smile. You might not have cracked the armor completely, but you can feel the first few cracks beginning to form. And that’s enough for now.
You might not know what it is about her that makes you want to keep pushing, keep trying to get through the walls she’s built around herself. But something about Sevika, hidden beneath all that sharpness and coldness, pulls you in. And you’re not about to give up on her, no matter how tough she tries to act.
•||——————————————————————||•
The first time Sevika offers to carry your books, it doesn’t seem like much at first. You’re leaving your biology class, walking down the hallway toward your next class when, out of nowhere, she steps up beside you.
“Here,” she says, her voice gruff but not unfriendly as she grabs the stack of books from your hands.
“Wait, what—?” you start, trying to hold onto the books, but she’s already too quick for you, pulling them out of your grasp with surprising ease. Her fingers brush yours, and for just a moment, the sensation is strange—unexpected, even though she’s always been a physical presence in your life, in every sense of the word.
Sevika’s eyes flick to yours for a brief moment, watching the confusion play out on your face. A smirk creeps up on her lips, but it’s less mocking and more playful, like she’s enjoying seeing you thrown off balance.
“Don’t get used to it,” she says, her tone teasing but with that sharp edge of hers still there. “I’m just doing you a solid, no big deal.”
You stare at her, unsure how to respond. She’s still the same Sevika—the girl who keeps everyone at arm’s length with her scowl, her tattoos, her armor of indifference. Yet, there’s a shift. She’s not as prickly today. There’s something different, something softer behind the usual harshness, but it’s hard to pin down exactly what it is.
You try to brush it off. “Thanks, I guess.” It’s an awkward response, but you can’t help it. The whole situation feels foreign—Sevika, helping you, even in her roundabout, no-nonsense way.
As you walk side by side, the silence feels comfortable, more natural than it’s ever been between the two of you. The usual tension, the kind that hangs thick in the air between people who don’t quite know each other but feel like they should, isn’t there. Instead, it’s just the sound of footsteps echoing through the empty hallways, punctuated by the soft rustle of Sevika’s hoodie as she moves.
Once you reach your next class, she hands your books back to you without saying much, her usual scowl returning. “Don’t make it weird,” she mutters, turning to walk off, her footsteps heavy and purposeful.
You don’t make it weird, but it sticks with you. The whole interaction lingers in the back of your mind, not in a bad way, but more like a question you don’t quite know the answer to yet. Why did she do that? Was it just a passing moment, or was there something more?
The next day, it happens again.
You’re at your locker, shoving your history book into your bag when you feel a presence at your side. You don’t even need to look up to know who it is—Sevika’s aura fills the space, a palpable thing that both commands attention and makes everyone else unconsciously take a step back.
You let her carry your books again, not because you need the help, but because, for some reason, it doesn’t feel like an imposition. It feels… well, it feels nice. There’s a quiet understanding growing between you two, something that wasn’t there a week ago. It’s unspoken, but it’s there.
The days blur together in a mix of English class, hallway interactions, and little moments like this—moments where Sevika’s sarcasm feels less biting, her teasing more playful than sharp. And as the days go on, you start noticing the changes in her even more.
One morning, you’re walking into class, the usual coffee in hand, when you see her leaning against the wall near the door. She’s not talking to anyone, just standing there, arms crossed, looking like she’s waiting for someone.
You hesitate for a moment, unsure if you should approach. But then, with the casual confidence that’s so uniquely Sevika, she uncrosses her arms and nods toward you, that little tilt of her head that somehow speaks louder than words.
“Got something for me?” she asks, that playful edge to her voice as her grey eyes flick down to the coffee cup in your hand.
Without thinking, you hold it out to her. “Of course.”
“Guess I don’t need to thank you this time,” she says, taking the coffee from your hands with a teasing glint in her eyes.
You chuckle, leaning against the wall next to her. “You don’t have to, but it’d be nice.”
Her gaze flicks to you for just a second, a raised eyebrow the only acknowledgment of your words before she takes a sip from the coffee, her eyes narrowing slightly in appreciation. It’s not a thank you, but it’s close enough.
The bell rings, signaling the start of class, and the two of you walk in together, an unspoken understanding hanging between you. You’re no longer just the “nice kid” and the “badass hockey player”—you’re something else, something undefined, something more.
And that’s the thing about Sevika: she’s not the kind of person you can pin down. Every time you think you have her figured out, she surprises you.
By now, you’ve gotten used to the little rituals. She walks with you to class, books in hand, always a step behind you but close enough that you can hear her breathing. It’s not a lot, but it’s enough to make you feel like you’ve made a little crack in her armor, even if she refuses to admit it.
Her teasing has become a part of the routine, too. It’s like she can’t help herself, always needling you, always making fun of your “perky” attitude or the way you get lost in your books. But you’ve noticed the shift—it’s not cruel anymore. It’s playful, like she’s teasing a friend, not someone she can’t stand.
One day, as you’re both walking to class, she surprises you again.
“I’ve been thinking,” she mutters, her voice quieter than usual. “You’re not so bad.”
You stop in your tracks, eyes wide in surprise. Did Sevika just… compliment you?
She catches your gaze and immediately rolls her eyes, the smirk returning to her lips. “I said, you’re not so bad, not that I like you or anything. Get over it.”
You smile, your heart skipping a beat. “Sure, Sevika. Whatever you say.”
The bell rings again, and you both make your way into class, but this time, it feels different. The tension between you two has shifted into something new, something more comfortable, and you both know it.
And every day, as you continue bringing her coffee, as she continues to walk with you to class, you both get a little closer, each moment chipping away at the walls she’s spent years building. Slowly, but surely, you’re getting to the person behind the tough exterior. And no matter how much she pretends it doesn’t matter, you can see it now—Sevika’s beginning to care.
•||——————————————————————||•
The afternoon is just starting to drag. You’re standing by your locker, shoving your history book into your bag with the kind of lethargy that only comes with the final bell of the day still being two classes away. You’re exhausted, not just from the day’s classes, but from the constant grind of high school itself. Your classmates, the ones who still don’t get you, don’t seem to understand that not everyone is out to make the most noise or throw the hardest punches. Some people—like you—just want to get through it all, helping where they can, smiling when they don’t feel like it, and quietly hoping things will get easier. But today is proving that’s not going to be the case.
As you turn to leave the hallway, a group of guys from your gym class snicker behind you. They’re a regular fixture of assholery in your life, always making their rounds to see who they can mess with. Today, it’s your turn.
“You know,” one of them says loud enough for you to hear, “somebody should really tell you to stop being so fucking soft. Like, seriously. You’re not gonna make it in this school with that wimpy attitude.”
You turn back slowly, hoping that if you ignore them, they’ll just keep walking like everyone else. But it doesn’t work. They crowd around you, blocking the hallway, sneering and laughing like they own the space.
“Look at this,” another one mocks, his voice dripping with exaggerated sweetness, “such a fucking goodie two-shoes. Maybe we should give you a medal for being so ‘nice.’ Too bad no one here actually gives a shit about that.”
Your fists clench, but you don’t say anything. They don’t deserve your energy, but it doesn’t stop the anger from bubbling up. It’s the same thing every time—words, insults, the relentless poking at who you are, how you try to be decent. It’s always this way, isn’t it? They want you to crack. To snap. To show weakness so they can laugh at it. But you won’t give them the satisfaction.
Just when you think they’re about to escalate, you hear it.
A voice. Low, commanding.
“Hey,” Sevika says, cutting through the tension like a knife.
You don’t even have time to look at her before you hear the unmistakable sound of a body slamming into metal. One of the guys lets out a strangled gasp as he’s shoved violently into a locker. The group steps back instinctively, surprised by the sudden force. The guy who got shoved stumbles to his feet, a wild, startled look in his eyes.
Sevika’s not even looking at him directly. She’s focused on the others, her jaw set, her lips curling slightly into a scowl.
“I don’t give a shit if you think you’re funny,” she says, her voice cold as ice, “but if you ever talk to her like that again, you won’t be able to walk the rest of the day. Got it?”
The group is frozen for a moment, a strange mix of fear and confusion on their faces. They’re not used to someone standing up to them like this—especially not Sevika. After all, she’s the star hockey player, the tough girl who runs the school with her stare alone. The group stammers out apologies, the bravado slipping from them as quickly as it appeared. They scatter, not wanting to risk getting into her bad books.
You stand there, blinking in disbelief. Sevika, the girl who’s always kept her distance, the one who’s never given you anything other than playful insults and sarcastic remarks, just fucking stood up for you.
Your heart hammers in your chest, and your mouth is suddenly dry.
Sevika turns to you, her shoulders relaxed now, but there’s still that fire in her eyes.
“You okay?” she asks, and her tone is softer, more genuine than you’ve ever heard it before.
You swallow, trying to keep your voice steady. “I… yeah. I’m fine.”
She looks at you for a moment, eyes scanning you for any sign of weakness, but there’s none. She doesn’t apologize. She never does. But the way her lips tighten slightly, the way her brows furrow just a little—it’s enough. She’s not expecting you to say anything. She doesn’t even seem to know what to do with herself now that she’s done this. She’s Sevika, and she’s not used to letting people get close enough to care.
You can’t help but smile a little, a warmth spreading through you despite the rush of adrenaline still pounding in your chest. “Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me,” she says, turning away and heading down the hallway. “Just… don’t be such a soft target next time.”
You watch her walk away, your thoughts racing. Sevika had always been this untouchable figure—at least, to you. You were just the quiet, well-meaning kid in the back of the class who didn’t stand out. But now… now, things were changing. You didn’t know how or why, but you felt it.
Later, in English class, the usual noise of the room fades as you take your seat next to Sevika. She’s quiet today, almost too quiet, like she’s avoiding looking at you. You don’t push it. Not yet. But when the teacher starts droning on about something you’re not really paying attention to, you feel the familiar shift in the air.
Sevika leans over slightly, her face unreadable. The classroom is loud, with people chatting and fiddling with their phones, but for a moment, it’s just the two of you.
“You know,” she says, her voice barely above a whisper, “you’re the only person I actually like being around.”
It hits you like a punch to the gut. You freeze, blinking at her in shock. Did she just…?
She glances at you, her eyes fleetingly meeting yours before quickly looking away, like she’s regretting saying anything at all. She lets out a frustrated huff and slouches in her seat, rubbing her forehead like she’s embarrassed. “Don’t get all weird about it,” she mutters. “I’m not trying to—”
You can’t help it. You’re flustered, but at the same time, your heart swells. You’re not even sure what to say, so you just laugh softly, trying to play it cool. “I’m not. I just… I didn’t expect that.”
She shoots you a side-eye, her usual scowl pulling at her lips. “Yeah, well, I don’t usually say shit like that.”
You can’t help but smile, even though you feel a little like a fool. “You’re not so bad either, you know that?”
Sevika huffs, but there’s a small, almost imperceptible softening in her expression. “Whatever. Let’s just get through this class, alright?”
And just like that, things feel a little different. The silence between you isn’t uncomfortable anymore. It’s familiar, like you both know something now—something unspoken, but undeniable.
And as the bell rings, signaling the end of class, you both pack up your things, side by side, in a way that feels completely natural.
•||——————————————————————||•
You were pretty sure that when Sevika agreed to go out with you, she didn’t quite know what she was getting herself into. Hell, you didn’t either. You didn’t expect this—this unspoken connection that had grown between the two of you, or the idea that the girl who used to shove people against lockers and made it clear she didn’t give a shit about anyone might actually want to spend time with you outside of school. Yet, here you were, standing at the entrance of a small café after school, anxiously looking at the clock and waiting for Sevika to show up.
The awkwardness hit you like a freight train as soon as you heard the familiar heavy footsteps of her boots on the concrete. She came to a stop in front of you, leaning against the doorframe with her arms crossed, a slight scowl on her lips. The look in her eyes was a mix of challenge and something else—something more vulnerable that she refused to acknowledge. She’d agreed to this date begrudgingly, and you weren’t sure if she was regretting it yet, but you sure as hell didn’t want her to.
“You’re late,” you say, trying to keep things light, hiding your nerves behind a teasing smile. You’ve never been good with first dates—not even close—but if you were going to do this, you were going to do it with your usual charm.
Sevika raises an eyebrow and gives you a look that’s almost as if she’s about to retort with something snarky, but she just shrugs, pushing a lock of hair behind her ear. “I wasn’t gonna rush for you, y’know. Not that you’d care.”
You blink, a little caught off guard by the lack of bite in her voice. She’s usually so sharp, so defensive. It’s almost… sweet. No, you’re imagining it. You must be.
“Fine,” you laugh. “Come on, let’s go inside before we both freeze our asses off.”
Sevika hesitates for a moment but then steps past you, pushing open the door with the same carelessness she’d shown with every decision in her life. She doesn’t look back, but you can feel the silent invitation to follow her. You take a deep breath and follow her into the cozy café, the smell of fresh coffee and warm pastries filling your senses.
“Not what I expected,” Sevika mutters as she looks around, her eyes scanning the room like she’s assessing every angle. “This place seems… soft.”
“Soft?” You raise an eyebrow. “It’s a café, Sevika. Not a fucking boxing ring.”
She scoffs at your response, though there’s a ghost of a smile on her lips. “Don’t get too comfortable. I don’t do cozy.”
“Well, I do,” you say, taking a seat at a small table by the window. You feel the tension in your shoulders slowly start to ease as you glance out at the street, watching cars pass by. “But I get it. Not everyone likes this sort of thing.”
Sevika slouches into the chair opposite you, not exactly relaxing but not standing either. She glances around, eyes darting over the simple décor with an almost bemused expression. She’s so out of her element, and you can’t help but admire the way she wears it like armor, pretending she’s cool with everything, even when she’s not.
For a moment, neither of you speaks. The silence feels like a heavy weight, but it’s not uncomfortable—at least, not for you. You wait for Sevika to break it, because you know she will. It’s the way she is. She always has something to say, even if it’s just to fill the silence with sarcasm.
“So, this is your idea of a date, huh?” she finally asks, voice low but amused.
You shrug, leaning back in your chair. “I’m a simple person. Not every date has to be some grand, expensive thing.”
Sevika tilts her head, scrutinizing you like she’s trying to figure out your intentions. “Yeah, well, don’t expect me to do this every weekend.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t dream of it,” you tease, a grin spreading across your face. “I’m just happy you showed up. Not many people would take me seriously when I said I wanted coffee instead of some fancy dinner.”
There’s a long pause before she nods. “Guess I’m not like most people.”
No, she’s not. Sevika has a way of doing things that doesn’t make sense to anyone else—she’s rough around the edges, unapologetically herself, and honestly, you admire that. She’s everything you aren’t, and maybe that’s why you’re so drawn to her. She’s not afraid to be the person everyone else fears. But right now, sitting across from you, she’s just Sevika. No tough-girl persona. No hockey star. Just a girl trying to figure things out like anyone else.
You place your order—coffee, naturally, with a slice of cheesecake because why the hell not? You know Sevika will roll her eyes when you ask for dessert, but it doesn’t stop you from making your choice. As you wait for your order to arrive, you both settle into a strange kind of rhythm—her occasional snort of laughter at something you say, the way she subtly relaxes the more you talk, as though she’s actually enjoying this time with you.
The conversation is clumsy at first, filled with small talk and awkward pauses, but slowly, like a puzzle slowly coming together, you both start finding your flow. You joke about your terrible math grades, and she complains about the bullshit demands of hockey practice, the tension of being the best player but also constantly fighting to prove she’s more than just her image. You listen, and she listens to you. In a weird way, this is easier than you expected.
“You know,” she says after a while, her fingers tracing the rim of her coffee cup, “I don’t usually do this. Hang out with people like you.”
“People like me?” you repeat with a raised eyebrow.
“Yeah, you know, the ‘goody two-shoes’ types,” she says, using air quotes with a slight smirk. “The people who care about everyone and everything. It’s… exhausting to be around.”
You’re taken aback by her honesty, but you can’t help but smile. “You think I’m exhausting?”
“Sometimes,” she admits, eyes glinting with mischief. “But it’s… refreshing, I guess.”
You’re not sure if she means that as a compliment, but something inside of you swells at the idea that she sees you differently. There’s something strangely tender in her words, even though she’s trying to play it off as casual. You chuckle. “You’re not so bad either, you know.”
Sevika tilts her head, eyes narrowing. “Don’t get all soft on me now.”
“No promises,” you reply, grinning.
The evening goes on with more laughter, more teasing, and moments of awkward silence that you’ve both learned to embrace. By the end of it, you’re not entirely sure when the awkwardness started to fade away, but it has.
the two of you stand outside the café, your breath visible in the cold air. Sevika tucks her hands into her jacket pockets, her expression unreadable.
“I had a good time,” she says, avoiding eye contact, her voice strangely soft. “Not that I’m saying I’ll do this again. Don’t get too fucking comfortable.”
You grin. “Yeah, yeah. I get it. Don’t expect you to turn into a total softie or anything.”
She smirks at you, but you catch a glimmer of something in her eyes that makes your heart race.
“Maybe not,” she mutters, but there’s warmth behind her words that she’s not quite ready to admit.
You stand there for a moment, neither of you moving. For once, the silence between you isn’t awkward—it’s comfortable. There’s a connection here, one that feels like it’s been building without either of you fully acknowledging it.
Before you can think too much about it, Sevika steps forward, her hand brushing against yours as she walks past you, her fingers lingering just long enough to make you wonder if it was on purpose.
“See you tomorrow,” she says, her voice barely above a whisper. “Don’t make me regret this.”
You watch her walk away, a grin tugging at your lips. You may not know where this is going, but for the first time, you’re okay with that.
The next day in English class, you sit down at your usual spot, your mind still spinning from last night. You glance over at Sevika, who’s doodling something in her notebook, her lips curved in a faint smirk. You can’t resist taking a peek at what she’s drawing, and to your surprise, it’s a small, simple heart—next to your name.
You catch her eye just as she looks up, and she immediately shuts her notebook. “Not a word out of you.” She grumbled with her typical scowl.
You can’t help but laugh. But as she turns back to open her notebook again, you notice the warmth in her eyes—something real, something you know she doesn’t show anyone else.
You smile to yourself, knowing that despite everything, Sevika’s starting to crack, and you’ve never been more thrilled.
•||——————————————————————||•
59 notes · View notes
insomniadreamzz · 1 day ago
Text
Game on
Jinx x Fem!Reader Squid Game AU (may contain season 2 spoilers of Squid Game)
Mentions of blood, violence, little smut
Also sorry for the short smut but I want to focus a bit more on story in this and not write a whole 🌽. 🤣
(Pic edited by me)
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„Dear players, the light will shut down in 30 minutes. Please make your ways to your beds“
You hear the voice like every night. So many people have died around you. All the blood you saw, the screams of them, the way they just got shot without any mercy. When you first came here you thought this would be a normal game between you and other people, the winner getting a lot of money but you didn’t expect people actually dying in this. Hundrets of people died.
When the light shut down, you sat in your bed, restless and not wanting to close your eyes yet. People were already arguing, the hate between them getting more present especially after noticing the price will get more after every person that died and with that being ‚disqualified‘.
And then your whole body starts shaking once you heard the female voice again.
„The extra game will start within seconds.“
And then it happened. The lights were flickering, screams echoing through the huge room as everyone attacked, using forks and all they could find to kill each other, blood splattered on the floor, the walls and the beds. It was terrible. You hid under your bed, praying it will stop soon and you don’t have to kill anyone or be killed.
When you opened your eyes you could see someone standing in front of you. You saw a red suit, making your heartbeat going faster, you saw your life already ending but the guard grabbed your wrist and pulled you out of under your bed, you wanted to scream but got shut up by their hand on your mouth. You got dragged along with them through the chaos, everyone else being too distracted into the fight and the flickering light made it hard to see anything clear. The guard kept on dragging you along out of the bedroom and alongthe halls. You didn’t know where they will take you but you followed, not wanting to get back there anyways. You came to a orange hall with many doors and numbers on them, it must be the guards rooms. You got pushed into one, making you stumble backwards and fall on your butt. „Ouch! What the-…“ You started but then the guard slowly took off their hood, seeing the blue hair made your heart skip a beat and once they removed the mask, you lost your breath for a moment. „J-Jinx…?“
„What the hell are you doing here?!“ She shouted at you but you also got angry at her, getting up on your feet again. „Me?! What the hell are you doing here?! I thought you were dead! I-I thought I have lost you and now I meet you here???“ You couldn’t believe it. Many years ago you and Jinx were girlfriends and one day she just disappeared, making you think she died in a fight and now seeing her in front of you was so unreal. You couldn’t hold back your tears as you looked at her, she really was in front of you, alive. „Why did you leave me?! Why did you make me go through all of this??! Have you even thought about how you made me feel??“ You continued, making her frown as she listened to you, hearing your voice crack as you cried in front of her. „I am…sorry. I got into some deep shit and didn’t want you to get into this…“
Her explanation didn’t calm you down at all. You just wanted to punch her for making you think she was dead. Jinx stepped closer to you, pulling you into her arms and all you could do was letting it all out as you kept on crying, hugging her back so tight you were scared she would slip away again. „I wish I could turn back time…but I can’t. I am so sorry I made you feel like this…why do you think I brought you here to my room? I don’t want you to die.“ She mumbled as she cuddled into your hair, keeping you close to her. „I love you too much to let that happen.“ She continued, making your heart skip a beat, looking up at her with teary eyes but you calmed down a little bit at least. You both stare at each other for a moment before you kissed deeply and passionately. You missed the feeling of her lips on yours so much.
She guided you to the little bed she had in her room, never breaking the kiss as she got on top of you, her hands taking off your green jacket before making you lay down. „Fuck I missed you so much.“ She mumbled against your lips, wanting to feel you better so she took off her black gloves and removed her suit, tossing them to the side. Your eyes widen as you saw her only wearing her underwear, missing that view. „What? It can get very hot under that suit.“ She explained herself but you didn’t care, you pulled her down to you, kissing her again, this time you moved your tongue inside of her mouth, wanting to be as close as possible as your hands roam along her beautiful body, her cold hands slipping under your shirt in return, sending shivers down your spine.
You let her undress you, you both being now exposed to each other, admiring your bodies before her lips found their way down along your neck and chest, making you hum so softly. „Fuck…I missed you.“ You whine out, feeling her teeth nibbling on your sensitive skin. You both ended up in a moaning mess, making love to each other as if it was the last time. Her wet cunt sliding against yours, sending shiver through your body every time her hard clit rubbed against yours, her thrusts becoming faster when she felt close and soon you felt her pulse against you as you both reached your orgasm, moaning out each others names, making her collapse on you as she wrapped her arms around you, holding you so tight. „Damn…I love you so much…“ You heard her whisper, her voice sounding like she was crying and you weren’t wrong with that thought.
„Why are you crying?“ You dared to ask, making her hug you tighter if it was even possible. „Because I am scared…if I let you go you might die at the next game…if I keep you with me and they find out…either I have to kill you or we both get killed.“ She sniffed, cuddling into the crook of your neck. Your hand came up to caress her back gently, trying to calm her down but she was right. There won’t be any guarantees for you to win all the games and get shot. You just found each other again after so long and now it should end? No way.
„You know…I made friends out there. It sounds crazy but not all of them are bad.“ You mentioned, remembering the others you got to meet in here, wondering if they still alive.
// Flashback //
The first game had started. A lot of the people who were around you made fun of it, the game was simple. Green light red light. A game many knew from their childhood. Little did you know this had a terrible twist.
One moved when you had to stay still and a loud bang made chaos erupt as the person got shot. Many lost their mind, screaming and wanting to run for their life but everyone got shot that didn’t stand still. Your own knees getting weak but you tried your best not to move even though the only emotion you could feel in this moment was fear.
The creepy looking puppet turned its head around again and you could run again but you tripped over your own feet just when it was to turn to you again but someone grabbed your jacket and held you just in place.
„Don’t fucking move…“ A deep female voice told you, your forehead was all sweaty as you tried not to make a move, you didn’t even dare to breathe and then finally you could move again. Two more rounds you managed to keep yourself still, hearing more shots and people screaming. You fell on your knees once you reached over the line, you realised you survived. Your heart felt like it’s going to jump out of your chest when you looked back, so many dead bodies, so much blood. It felt like being in a horror movie but it was real.
Back in the room where all people had their beds, you sat on yours with your knees to your chest, slowly realising that you can die when you will fail a game. You were scared but you were here now, knowing there is no going back. „You okay?“ A strong looking female with short hair went over to you, you looked at her with teary eyes. „You saved my life…“ You just mumbled and she sat down beside you. „This is a fucked up place isn’t it?“ She said, a little sigh escaping her lips. „What does a woman like you do in here?“ She kept in asking to change the subject but the question made you more sad. „I…wanted to get more money to hire people to find my girlfriend…she disappeared and they couldn’t find her yet…maybe she is dead but I don’t want to believe that.“ You felt a tear run down your cheek, quickly wiping it away. „Why are you here?“ You asked in return. „Gambling.“ Her answer was short but it made sense to you. You can either win or lose your money with gambling but in here you lose your life.
„I see…“ You just nod and she offered you her hand. „I am Sevika.“ You looked at her before shaking her hand, telling her your name in return.
„Hey you two! Can we sit with you?“ A male voice asked, you looked up to see a man walking up to you with messy long hair and a beard, a thin man with also a bit of longer hair followed him. „I am Jayce! And that’s Victor! We figured it would be good to make friends here to habe a better chance of winning.“ He continued and all you could do was nod in response. „Sure. Maybe having friends in here could help…plus it can make it easier to go through this hell together right?…“
And with that you got some people around you to talk to you and make it a little easier to go through all of this but the fear of losing them if you get too close was also hurting. Whatever you need to survive, get out of here and find Jinx.
// End of flashback //
You told Jinx about how you met Sevika, Victor and Jayce. Little did you know Jinx already knew. „You know…we have cameras everywhere and I saw you hanging out with them. Of course I always watched you when I had to…shoot those people. I hoped I didn’t have to shoot you or see you being shot…“ Jinx‘s voice cracked at the end of her sentence, you could feel she hated what she had to do but you knew she was forced to.
„Yeah…hopefully they didn’t die when the fight in the bedroom escalated. I bet if you didn’t take me with you, I wouldn’t have make it. I just…I can’t kill people even if they attack me you know…it’s just not me.“ You explained, feeling her hand caressing your hair, making you close your eyes at her gentle touch. „Sometimes you have to kill to survive.“ She told you. Jinx wasn’t wrong with that but you rather run like a scared bunny would run from their predator. „I know…“
Suddenly both of you got interrupted by a knock on the door, Jinx getting up quickly before putting her suit back on, throwing your clothes towards you and you did the same, quickly dressing yourself.
„Soldier 013 open the door.“ A voice said and Jinx refused for a moment. „Who’s there? What do you want?“ She asked but there was no reply. With a loud bang the door got open and another soldier in a pink suit but a square on his mask entered, knocking both of you out before anyone of you two could even do something.
When you woke up, you found yourself tied on a chair and Jinx was the same in front of you, groaning as she opened her eyes. „Where are we…?“ You mumbled, still feeling the headache. Jinx‘s eyes widen when she realised where you were. „In the main room…from here they control everything.“ She said, eyes searching for someone but it didn’t take long until someone with a black suit and black mask walked out if the shadows.
„Just look who’s there. I knew I couldn’t trust you since I knew your girlfriend was here. You can’t follow my orders can you? I told you you should do what I say or this will end bad for you.“ The masked man said, holding up a gun. „But I know you like playing games…so why not include a fun game? Maybe your last or your girlfriend’s last game…“
„Dont! I beg you leave her out of this!“ Jinx shouted at him, you had the feeling she knew him. „Why would I? You broke the rules which leads to a punishment.“ He sighed, placing the gun now into your hand. „Let’s play russian roulette. There is only one bullet in this gun. You either lose or win. Only one of you. Have fun.“ He ordered, your whole body shaking and tears running down your cheeks. „F-Fuck…I am so sorry I didn’t want this to happen.“ Jinx said but you shook your head in response. „It’s not your fault…“ You said with a shaky voice, holding the gun against your head, eyes squeezed shut as you pulled the trigger but you only heard a click.
Now it was Jinx turn. You handed her the gun with shaky hands and she did the same as you did before, squeezing her eyes shut before pulling the trigger but thankfully there was also only a clicking sound. You sighed, feeling relieved but seeing Jinx cry in front of you just like you did broke you.
„I-…I did this to find you and now…I found you and I will lose you again. That’s not fair!“ You shouted, feeling like your heart will break into a thousand pieces.
The man who brought you two into this situation suddeny looked at the monitors, he panicked a little seeing players attacking the soldiers with their own guns. „Dammit! All soldiers go down! We need to stop them!“ He ordered and pushed a red button, making a siren appear through the whole building. Your eyes widen when you tried to look at the screen, you knew them.
„You two! Don’t fucking try anything! I want to see when one of you dies.“ He turned towards you, Jinx grunting in return. „As if we gonna continue this shit.“
Gunshots could be heard everywhere and they got louder by time. The man in the black suit struggling to keep his man alive, no matter how many soldiers he sent out, you saw more and more of them die on the screen and then, they reached the control room, shooting a few guards who were in here with you before aiming at the man who forced you to play russian roulette.
„Sevika! Jayce! Victor! I knew it!“ You cheered happily, not knowing they planned to get out of here but the more happy you got realising they won’t let you down.
„Told ya we are friends didn’t I?“ Sevika said, smirking as she aimed at the man with the black mask while Jayce and Victor removed the ties from you and Jinx so you could move freely again. Jinx grabbed a gun from a dead guard and stood before you in a protective way.
„Now…remove your damn mask I wanna see who you are. You fucking sick asshole.“ Sevika grumbled and the man gave in, removing his mask to reveal his face. It was a man with a huge scar on the other half of his face. Only Jinx didn’t look surprised, she knew him just as you thought. „Jinx…you know him right?“ You said as you stepped closer to her from behind. „Sadly…this asshole is my stepfather Silco who can’t get enough money…“ She grumbled and your eyes widen in shock. „Your what?!…is that why you left so sudden?“ You kept on asking but she only nodded in response.
Before anything you heard a loud bang like a explosion and the whole place started shaking like an earthquake. Making you all feel caught off guard for a moment. „They are here…“ Silco said as he looked up at the ceiling. „What now? You wanna kill me??!“ The man snarled, making Sevika scoff in return.
„No. If anyone is going to shoot him it’s me.“ Jinx stepped forward with a serious expression, her eyes watery. She was hurt but she couldn’t go on like this. „You gave me a home but you used me as one of your weapons to kill people in this stupid fucking game and make money of their organs. I left the love of my life because of you and all you did with me was using me. Why else would you want me to die playing a stupid gane with my girlfriend?“ She said with a surprisingly calm voice as she pointed the gun towards him. „You stupid girl! I calculated it so she would get the bullet and not you!“ Silco shouted at her, making her feel even more angry. „You think I would stay after seeing my girlfriend die before my eyes?! You’re so sick. I feel sick being your stepdaughter.“ Just the second Jinx shot him, some people reached the control room. One of them was a man Silco‘s age with a beard and the other two following him were two women. One with pink hair, the other dark blue hair. They were clearly from the police.
„Jinx?…“ The pink haired woman knew her. „Vi?…“ Jinx turned to look at her. You heard that name once, remembering Jinx sister was named Violet and goes with the name Vi. She seemed to know the man too, tears running down the blue haired girls cheeks as she let the gun fall and ran into their arms. „I thought I won’t ever see you again!“ She cried into their arms. You and the others watched the scene in awe. These two, they were Jinx family. But why did she leave them. „S-Silco…he told me you are dead! I thought I have no one left anymore!“ She kept on crying, seeing your girlfriend break down in tears hurt you but you also felt happy they reunited. „That’s my sister Vi and my father Vander.“ Jinx explained as she looked at you, making you smile a little, feeling happy for her.
Vander just moved out of the hug as he saw Silco on the ground, a puddle of blood under his thin figure. „I knew my brother was sick but that’s just…too much.“ Vander said, lifting up the lifeless body of his brother. „I am sorry he made such a terrible thing.“ Even though Silco did a terrible thing Vander couldn’t just leave his body here, wanting to burry him.
„In the room above us we captured some rich idiots who had fun watching this all. They won’t be able to harm anyone in here anymore. Let’s get out of here and the police will do the rest. We called more of our troops to get to this location. Everyone else in this building alive or not will be taken out of here.“ Vi explained and soon all of you made their way out of this hell, leaving the rest to the specialists.
You were finally home again, alive and with Jinx by your side. „It still feels like a nightmare…“ You mumbled as you and Jinx were all cuddled up in bed. „I didn’t know you sister and father worked for the police.“
„Neither did I…“ Jinx mentioned. She thought they were dead but thankfully they weren’t. You looked up at her with so much love as you caressed her cheek. „I am sorry glad we made it out of there and having you with me again.“ You said softly, making her smile back at you. „I am also happy to be back with you again. I love you.“ She kissed you gently, making you melt into her touch. „I love you too.“ You whispered softly against her lips.
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wchswift · 7 hours ago
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ଓ Soundtrack of Us
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Pairing: Dean Winchester x fem!reader
Summary: basically a drabble about you and dean having different tastes in rock but still enjoying it together.
Word count: 778
a/n: I've been a bit inactive and busy because of work and life in general, so I haven't been able to write as much 😭 but I had this self-indulgent idea and I decided to write it :3 (and just a note: I know dean and his "restricted" taste for hair metal is more exclusive to the early seasons and you see his musical taste expand over time, but I wrote this with s1 dean in mind so... sorry if this is kind of out of character)
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Dean’s hand rested easy on the steering wheel, his other arm stretched over the back of the seat. His fingers brushed your shoulder now and then, not like he was trying, but like he couldn’t help it. The Impala purred beneath you like a contented lion, the rumble vibrating through the soles of your boots.
Outside, the road stretched long and dark, a canvas painted in streaks of asphalt and moonlight. Inside, the car was alive with the unmistakable riff of AC/DC’s Back in Black.
“You seriously don’t get tired of this song?” you teased, shooting him a side glance.
Dean smirked, his green eyes glinting in the dim light of the dash. “Tired? Sweetheart, this is a classic. It’s practically a religious experience.”
You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the small smile tugging at your lips. “It’s good, I’ll give you that. But, you know, there’s more to rock than screaming guitars and pounding drums.”
“Oh, here we go,” Dean groaned playfully, leaning back in his seat. “Let me guess, you’re about to hit me with Livin’ on a Prayer again.”
You laughed, the sound bright and warm in the intimate space of the car. You rummaged through your bag, fishing out your MP3 player. “Don’t knock it! Bon Jovi knew how to tell a story. And don’t even get me started on Queen. Freddie Mercury was a genius.”
Dean grunted, mock-offended. “Yeah, yeah. Freddie was great. I can't exactly disagree... but where’s the grit? The soul? The blood, sweat, and beers?” He gestured to the stereo. “Metallica, Black Sabbath—they’re the heartbeat of rock.”
“Don’t get me wrong,” you said, scrolling through your playlist. “I like some grit. But music doesn’t always have to be about rebellion and rage. Sometimes, it’s about finding beauty in the chaos.”
Dean shot you a look, a slow grin spreading across his face. “Beauty in chaos, huh? That’s pretty deep for a Bon Jovi fan.”
You lightly punched his arm, and he chuckled, the sound low and warm. “Watch it, Winchester,” you warned, but there was no heat in your words.
As the AC/DC track came to an end, you grabbed his box of tapes under the dash rifling through them until you found some of your additions.
The familiar opening chords of Somebody to Love filled the Impala, and you turned the volume up. Dean groaned dramatically.
“Oh, come on,” he protested. “Not this one!”
“Yes, this one!” you countered, swaying in your seat to the rhythm. “Admit it, you love it.”
“Do not.”
“Do too,” you shot back, grinning as you sang along with Freddie’s soaring vocals, tapping his knee in time with the beat. “Just give it a chance.”
Dean’s lips twitched as he tried to suppress a smile. He failed miserably. “Fine,” he relented, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel in an almost reluctant rhythm. “It’s not the worst.”
You gasped in mock horror. “Not the worst? Dean Winchester, you’re practically a fan.”
“Don’t push your luck,” he said, but the affection in his tone was unmistakable.
The song swelled, filling the car with its operatic grandeur, and for a moment, neither of you spoke. It wasn’t just music anymore; it was a bridge between your two worlds, a shared heartbeat in the quiet night.
As the final notes faded, Dean reached over and took your hand, his thumb brushing against your knuckles.
“You’re annoying, you know that?” he murmured, his voice soft.
You grinned, leaning into him. “And yet, you keep me around.”
Dean’s eyes flicked to yours, warm and unguarded. “Damn right, I do.”
For the rest of the drive, the two of you traded songs—Metallica melting into The Smiths, Bon Jovi tangling with Led Zeppelin. By the time you pulled into the motel parking lot, the playlist had turned into something uniquely yours, a messy, beautiful mashup of everything you both loved.
Dean turned off the engine, and for a moment, the world went quiet. He leaned back in his seat and looked over at you, his face softer than you’d seen it all day.
“Guess it doesn’t matter what we listen to,” he said quietly. “As long as it’s with you.”
You felt something catch in your chest, something warm and good. Leaning across the seat, you kissed him, your hand brushing against the back of his neck. “Same here, Dean. Same here.”
He smiled against your lips, the kind of smile that didn’t need words.
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𖤐 reblogs and feedback are appreciated! requests are also welcome, ty! (let me know if you want to be added to the taglist <3)
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madamechrissy · 1 month ago
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𖢔 Duvet Days and Vanilla Ice Cream 𖢔
𖢔The five times Satoru tried to confess his feelings, and the one that worked𖢔
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𖢔Pairings: Satoru Gojo x fem!reader
𖢔Summary: Satoru Gojo was your best friend in the world, you'd long since had it bad for him, over the many years, but of course he's so popular and handsome, star basketball player, you think you have no chance. Satoru however, has tried five different times over the many years to tell you he loves you, but the words just never came out right, and you would never believe it to be possible. So, you both grow distant, as life takes over, until in your last year of college you end up at a Christmas party with him, where both of you are dealing with fresh breakups, and Suguru Geto is hanging mistletoe over your heads. Drinks pour, and so do Satoru's feelings he's kept inside. Have you both been in love with each other this whole time!?
𖢔CW: MDNI- Will be showing elementary, middle, high school and college missed confessions with Satoru and you! Lots of fluff ! Smut in current time (hints of it in early college) Friends/idiots to lovers, Toru is an idiot as a teenager lol, and they're bad at feelings, Christmas themed, emotional- light angst to fluffy smut. Explicit sexual content, fingering, cunnilingus. blow jobs, sexual tension, rough sex etc. 𖢔 Word Count- 15k words (holy fk lol)
𖢔Comments/reblogs appreciated if you enjoy this one!!𖢔
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Christmas Eve, Last year of College
There is Christmas music playing as you enter the party, thrumming softly as you smile at so many of your friends, many you have barely seen in months. With being in the last year of college, many of you all had separate classes in separate buildings, and getting together was rarer and rarer. They wave at you while you take off your heavy winter coat.
It was freezing outside, and there was a faint dusting of snow, perfect for a Christmas Eve you muse. Little droplets melt on your hair as you shake your head to get them off, the warmth of the party and the sea of bodies enwrapping you. You see him then, right next to all of your friends, the man that never seems to leave your mind, Satoru Gojo.
God you’ve been friends forever, literally since you were ten years old, and running around in a playground at elementary school during recess, about Christmas time you’d met him in school and you’ll never forget him throwing snowballs so damn mean at you. You’d cried that day and somehow that had been the catalyst for your friendship.
But also your feelings.
You feel his blue eyes on you, eyes that you never got used to even after knowing him like the back of your hand, bright and piercing across the room, framed by a fringe of snow white lashes. He’s got a soft smile playing on his lips, waving a long arm at you, shouting your name. You hate that after all these years he still has such a damn effect, butterflies that never really left.
You’ve always tried to keep them pushed down, not get your hopes up ever, the few times you thought maybe Satoru could be available, had ended with him getting some new girlfriend. You had jokingly called them his flavors of the month, this month’s you’d called her an advent calendar jokingly over text, texting is mostly how you all talk now.
Satoru’s a star college basketball player and you’ve chosen to start a writing major, he’d be practicing basketball and you’d watch him in between typing up stories. He’d wave and smile at you as you sat on the bleachers to support him, though of course that was some time ago, when you both got significant others the friendship had gotten more distant.
You’d gotten broken up with literally last night, you were sure that your friends wondered why you were alone, but when you walk up to them, they just greet you. Suguru Geto, Satoru’s best friend and one of your good friends, hugs you first, in a warm embrace with his strong arms. You hug him back and smile up at him.
“Thank you so much for inviting me, Suguru!”
“Of course, love, we miss you. We all miss each other.”
“Me too! Hey Shoko!” Shoko hugs you now too, pulling back to look at your pretty dark red dress.
“You look so hot!”
“Aw, thank you, you do!” You now look at Nanami, who’s all decked out in a full three piece suit, you remember his emo days and it always surprises you how much he’s grown up. “Nanami!”
“Hello, darling.” He hugs you now as well, leaving you face to face with Satoru, who stands now, towering over damn near everyone, even taller than Nanami. Suguru is the only one in the room as tall as he is.
You crank your neck back to look up at him as he gently places his hands on your face, kissing your forehead sweetly. You grip his wrists gently and melt at the gesture, it’s a gesture of friendship deep and important. It’s one you haven’t felt in such a long time, you get so emotional from it you gulp, swallowing. You realize you’ll probably never really get over him.
But he’s just your friend.
A friend that looks sexy as fuck-
Stop that!
“I missed you, sweets. Mwah!” You giggle now as he smacks another kiss on your head and pulls you against his strong chest.
“Ugh, I miss you! But… maybe not so friendly, your-”
“I’m a free man so I can hug my friend again.” He teases, then pulls back and winks at the three of your other friends. “All my friends.”
“Don’t hug me, disgusting.” Nanami says with a shiver, earning Satoru’s huge, wolfy grin, big bright white teeth shining and reflecting the twinkling lights hanging on the ceiling above you.
“Well, that makes two of us.” You say softly, and Satoru’s eyes lock on you then, blue storms unreadable, a little lock of his soft white hair falling over a brow. Your eyes lower, taking in the white dress shirt and dress pants he’s wearing, worth more than you make in months easily. God he looks good.
Don’t think that way, it’ll always fuck you up.
“What happened?” Suguru asks softly, and you sigh, looking up at the dark haired man and smiling a bit.
“He wanted to go separate ways, I’m in college and he’s not anymore, I guess he felt we were too distant and separated because of it.”
“He didn’t wanna buy you a Christmas gift, cheap ass.” Satoru says with a huff, and you all laugh then.
“So we’re broken hearted for Christmas hmm?” You tease him now, taking his hand and squeezing gently, he pauses then, usually humorous face so serious, it makes you falter a bit, you ease your hand off, just when Suguru clears his throat.
“Ahem. Well then.” He holds up a thing of fake mistletoe now, right above Satoru’s white head and you, and you giggle a bit, but something in Satoru’s face shifts, his pretty pink lips part just a bit, eyes getting lidded.
“Well, there’s mistletoe, it’s a tradition.” He says, voice a little husky, you try to laugh it off, but quiet when he leans down a bit, hands in his pockets.
“Oh stop being silly you all.” You say, tempted by those glossy lips, but you don’t trust yourself not to lose it if you cross that line. Vivid images of straddling this man fill your mind just thinking of kissing him, you can’t go that far.
“It’s just a kiss, silly. C’mon, smooch me.” He puckers his lips all silly, Nanami and Suguru snort in laughter, and Shoko rolls her eyes. You sigh then, remembering, it’s just silly Satoru, your best friend. No big deal for him to have a kiss, especially as you both had shared a few kisses, one in middle, one in high school… and one drunken college encounter.
You may or may not have them written in a diary somewhere.
There may BE a Gojo diary.
“Okay, fine, tradition is tradition.” You say, he smirks now, hands out of his pockets to rest gently on your shoulders, so big he overtakes them. You exhale and your eyes flutter shut, as Satoru Gojo’s lips descend.
Fuck it feels so good to kiss him, it’s like you become boneless in his goddamn hold, it’s not just the pressure of some plush lips, it’s so much more, you are sure he probably doesn’t feel this, but you can’t help but lean up on your tip toes, even in your high heels, hands trailing up that stark shirt. He exhales and deepens the kiss, hands pulling you even closer.
You’ve never felt anything as sweet as his lips.
Satoru has never felt anything as sweet as your lips.
Fuck he knew it would feel this way, but it takes everything in him not to drag you upstairs and kiss every inch of your body. And fuck your body looks so good in that tiny little formfitting red dress, like a present just for him to unwrap. Satoru feels your skin heat up as he presses his lips on yours once more, in sweet little pecks, drinking in your breathless sounds.
He looks down at you, your eyes have dilated so much they’re almost black, just a ring of your pretty eye color left. Your lips are just slightly reddened from his kisses, parted just so, looking dazed. If you look like this from a kiss, he has to wonder how you look when he’d kiss you everywhere, every inch of your smooth skin, so bare in that dress he’s mad anyone even gets to see you.
You flush now, and he sees it, sees how flustered you get, biting your lower lip, lashes trembling just so over your eyes. Your hands are clutching his chest, his heart races under your palm, he wonders… Do you feel it? Do you feel even a bit of what he’s felt so long for you?
He longs to kiss you again, as his friends and yours all laugh softly, making little ‘ooooh’ noises, which you giggle at, but you don’t step back or step away, no you stay there, in front of him. He can feel your body heat, entrancing him, when you finally ease away you’re smiling so cute and shy at him, tearing his heart apart.
Satoru has to remember you’re just a friend, but it’s awfully difficult right now, especially since he knows you’re single. He knew the guy wasn’t good enough for you, but as your best friend he tried to be respectful, but he’d just tasted your sweet lips, like cherries, and now he’s imagining tasting your other lips. He’s a horrible friend, isn’t he, but…
Satoru’s been in love since he met you.
He knows you have no clue of it, the few times he’s tried he’s covered it up completely, much to your never ending confusion. Suguru, Nanami and Shoko all knew how bad he had it, even now, girls were placeholders, things to try to cope with the fact that he was too scared to share his feelings. He was nervous, Satoru Gojo, the man that could score under any pressure.
He scores in games, in life, with women. You were his weakness, breaking through this barrier he had, some invisible barrier that just a touch from you could destroy, a happy little smile on your perfect lips. Lips that are quirked up, you run your hand through your silky hair, hair he wonders what it would feel like in his fingers, pulling it as he…
Shit.
“Should we catch up a bit?” You ask softly.
“Miss me sweets?” He teases, and you roll your eyes, laughing.
“A bit.”
Fuck his heart stops. “Let me get you a drink?”
You nod and smile at his friends, who give him a sly little nod. They have made tonight their mission to try to get Satoru to express his feelings, finally and once and for all, before he went to play professionally, and before he maybe didn’t get a chance. He’d tried before, but something always holds him back, some fear of rejection, your rejection that sinks into him.
“I missed you, Toru.” You say softly, and the nickname hits him in the gut, the nickname you have called him for so long. He grabs a vodka bottle and smiles over at you, mixing you the drink he knows you love so much.
“Of course you missed me.” You laugh softly, Satoru always makes jokes, because he’s so scared to truly be vulnerable. You shove at him a little playfully, tiny little hand on one of his shoulders.
“You didn’t miss me, hotshot?” You tease.
“Miss you every day.” He says softly. You pause now, hands over his as he hands you the little cup, feeling yours get sweaty, as you tremble just a bit.
Are you as affected as him?
You can barely focus when Satoru’s long fingers brush against yours, you clear your throat and smile tremulously, taking the drink and sipping. “I wish we had more time to… hang out.” You say, cursing yourself internally.
“Hang out hmm?” He leans back on the counter, as the partygoers walk in and out of the kitchen.
“Yes, hang out. We used to all the time. I guess life happened?”
“Jealous boyfriend, jealous girlfriend happened.” He sips his drink, a little droplet falls, urging you to wipe it with your thumb, he catches your wrist in his big grip, tense, you both stare at each other quietly.
“Sorry.”
“Don’t apologize.” He lets your hand down gently.
“Satoru I… do you think… you’d ever…”
“Ever what, sweets?”
“Ever…” You’re a blushing mess now, wondering at yourself, but it’s been forever, your boyfriend and you had not slept together, and before that it’s been almost a year since you last slept with someone. And fuck Satoru looks so good your mouth is just watering.
“You can ask me anything.” He says, so soft, and you take a breath.
“Have you ever thought of um… hooking up?” You whisper the words, earning his huge eyes getting even bigger, mouth wide with shock. “Oh god of course you haven’t! I just thought since we… almost back in the day? Also, it’s been a while and I trust you, and… oh god forget it so embarrassing!” You slam your hands on your face now, feeling your ears even overheating.
“Wh-what!?” He demands, leaning down and taking your hands off, you can’t even meet his eyes.
“I’m so sorry that was so off base. You’re probably hurt! I’m a little hurt too. I just… fuck I need to go.”
“What!? No no no.” Satoru stops you now, exhaling as he studies you carefully. “Like just a hookup? You don’t think it’ll ruin…”
“It wouldn’t ruin anything for me. I’ve always… I’ve always wanted to.” You admit, earning more of a blatant look of shock. “I know I was a little too… I don’t know, romantic back when we were younger? But I thought of it.”
“Yeah? Shit… Yeah?” You giggle now, nervously.
“Yeah I’ve always thought about it. I know… but do you think of me that way? If not it’s fine, no pressure really.”
He scoffs now, shaking his head. “Never thought of you that way?”
“Well you’ve been picking on me since you were ten, throwing snowballs at me, little shit.” You poke his chest, ignoring the hammering of your heart, and Satoru takes you by your arm, long fingers wrapping it entirely.
“Christmas Story time young lady.” You giggle and let him lead you out of the lively party, out to some of the quieter rooms, and he snatches you in one quickly, locking the door behind you both. He sits down in a huge leather seat in the quiet room, tapping one of his long thighs.
You suddenly get even more shy, and he notices, leaning forward. “I am not very experienced at being casual, Toru, give me a minute.”
“We’re not doing anything yet anyway, sit on Santa’s lap.” You snort, shaking your head, and he narrows those blue eyes, before leaning over and snatching up a santa hat and grinning. “Now, come here, be a good girl.”
“Good girl!?” You’re wet, great. You nervously shuffle to his thigh now, sitting and hoping he can’t feel your heat.
“You’re all talk hmm?” You sigh.
“I can’t believe I said all of that, I’m so sorry. I’ve always… Well, I’ve always had a crush on you. It sounds silly.” You look away, only for Satoru to cup your face, turning you to him carefully, your breath catches when you see how serious his pretty face is under that silly hat.
“Are you ready for story time?” He asks softly. You nod then, leaning closer in his lap, wrapping an arm around his neck, the other hand resting on his hard chest.
“I’m ready, Santa Toru.” He smiles just a bit, then he remembers.
*****
The First time Satoru tried to tell you his feelings
Fifth Grade- Age 10
“Oh my gosh! Ugh!” You’re shivering now, Satoru has thrown two giant snowballs at the prettiest girl he’d seen, wearing a wicked grin as they both hit your sweater, soaking wet with them now.
You turn and glare at him, and gosh, Satoru really thinks you’re cute, your face is all scrunched up in a glare, a face he frequently stared at in class. You were so, so pretty, and you always had your head in a book, where most classmates fawned over Satoru, laughed at his jokes, you just…
Were you.
Satoru wanted some attention, so this seemed like a great way to try, until he walks over and sees your face, tears in your eyes, your lips trembling. He pauses then, blinking his snowy lashes, worrying now, as he’s not ever seen you upset, and now he feels it like a hit on his chest.
“You’re crying?” He asks, and then remembers people around you are watching, and he doesn’t want to seem too soft. “Why are you crying? Just snowballs.”
“I’m soaking wet and cold now, Gojo!” You stomp a foot, shivering, Satoru suddenly feels awful.
“I… oh… um…” He takes off his jacket then, shivering just a bit in the chilled air, so cold he could see puffs of your breath as you sigh.
“No, no you’ll be cold. I’ll be fine. I’ve just had… um a bad day.” You whisper, looking down and hugging yourself.
It’s then, Satoru realizes…
He thinks he likes you…
A lot.
He eases off your soppy sweater, throwing his jacket over your shoulders, and you look up at him and keep crying. “I’m sorry, okay!?”
“N-no. You’re just sweet, Gojo. Thank you.” You swipe at your eyes with your gloved hands as he clutches your sweater, he brings it to his nose for a moment, inhaling you. “Are you… smelling it? Do I smell bad!?”
“No, no! You smell sweet.” You raise your brows, color on your cheeks, on your cold little nose. “I mean… you… I…”
“Thank-”
“I mean whatever. Bring that back tomorrow.” You blink in surprise as he shoves your sweater in your hands, and he doesn’t like how excited he is when your fingers brush against his, he doesn’t like how your face in tears made him feel.
He was the head of the Gojo clan, he had to be strong, not a mess for some sad little girl in his class. He turns away and you call out his name softly. He tilts his head, blue eyes glinting at you. “Thank you!”
“Yeah.” He throws a peace sign at you, and Suguru runs up to him now.
“You like her!”
“Do not.”
He did not like you, no… 
Ten year old Satoru was surely falling in love already.
*****
Present Day
“You liked me then!?” You ask incredulously, remembering the look on his big blue eyes as he’d left you with his coat. “I thought you were picking on me?”
“I was… but I wanted your attention.” You exhale now, brushing his hair back gently, his eyes flutter shut. “I still want your attention. I just don’t throw snowballs at you anymore.”
“I mean, it kind of worked?” He laughs now, hot breath against your cheek as you pull back just a bit, cupping his face carefully. “You don’t need to throw snowballs anymore, I threw myself at you just now.”
“Nah, you didn’t. You just brought up something I’ve been dying to do, but too fucking afraid.”
“Afraid of me, you’re Satoru Gojo.” His hand feels so good up and down your back you damn near purr like a cat. “Popular, gorgeous, a sports star.”
“Well I don’t feel like any of that around you. I get… stupid and tongue tied. And say all the wrong shit.” You tilt your head, feeling the energy shift.
“You really liked me, Satoru?”
He sighs, thumb brushing across your lower lip, sending shivers of pleasure from just that down your spine. “Like… That’s not really the word.”
“No?” You whisper.
“No…” Satoru’s lips press against yours once more, and you let out a soft cry from the back of your throat, your hands entangling in his hair, body arching just so, earning his soft moan as he pulls back, your noses touching. “I didn’t just sleep with you before, back at the beginning of college, remember?”
“Oh I remember… somehow, despite the beer.”
“I didn’t because… it would be more.”
You shift just a bit, earning his breath catching, feeling the pressure between your thighs. “Is this too much?”
“No, no. Not enough.” You moan now, as his tongue slips past your lips, swiping in and swirling with yours, you drink up his every breath, as he sips up your cries. “Fuck, feel how hot you are.”
“It’s embarrassing.”
“No, it’s sexy. You’re sexy.” Satoru eases back now, a pink blush on his high cheekbones. “Story time, ready for more? If you listen good, Santa will take good care of you.” He teases, brushing thumbs over your nipples.
“Of course, Santa Toru. Carry on.”
Satoru smirks, looking so charming, you feel your blood rushing through your veins, struggling to calm as he speaks. “Remember eighth grade well?”
“Of course, you were already a little wise guy.” You earn his serious look, and he is shaking his head. And then it hits, that memory, of your first kiss ever with anyone, with Satoru Gojo. “You mean our kiss?”
“Yeah, our kiss.”
*****
The Second time Satoru tried to tell you his feelings
Eighth Grade- Age 14
Satoru was extremely popular, especially with the girls in school, he had several of them all over him even though he came on a date with one of your pretty classmates. You at this point have the biggest crush on him, though you certainly wouldn’t tell him, and he wouldn’t look at you that way, surely. You’re sipping on punch as you sit on one of the bleachers, watching everyone dance.
Little do you know, Satoru is watching you, his blue eyes keep peering your way over and over, looking at how cute you are in this pink, floofy little dress, one he didn’t expect to see you in. You’re nervously fidgeting with your little red solo plastic cup, smiling and waving a bit at him, as girls keep asking him questions, and one is dragging him out to the dance floor.
You watch Satoru with his hands on her waist, the thoughts of that alone make you feel sick for some reason, you’re not sure why. Suguru Geto comes up to you now with a smile, long hair pulled half up off his head, holding a hand out, you look around. “You sure? Me?”
“Yes you silly, you look pretty tonight.” You can’t stop the shy smile on your face as he stands you up, taking you to the floor for your first dance with someone.
“Thanks Suguru.” You say, he puts his hands on your waist as you both sway side to side, and you feel Satoru’s eyes burning holes as you both do, as he spins around the dance floor.
“Do you like him?”
“Like who?”
“Satoru.” Suguru tilts his head, and you want to sink into the floor, exhaling and shaking your head. Suguru smiles. “Not at all?”
“As a friend um… even if so, he’s too busy with his fan club.” Suguru chuckles at that, spinning you now.
“You think he doesn’t like you?”
“No way he does.” Suddenly Satoru’s standing between you both, arms crossed, his face just gets prettier every year, it’s really not fair you think.
“My turn.” He says, and Suguru gives a little mock bow, winking at you and dancing with another girl, Satoru’s hands tremble when they hit your waist, fingertips brushing over the mesh of your skirt. Something about the contact makes you gasp, your eyes flying to him when your hands rest on his shoulders, feeling how broad they’ve gotten.
“You don’t have to dance with me, Satoru. Suguru was already being nice.” You look down nervously, afraid to misstep, to accidentally stomp on his foot.
“Why do you think I don’t want to?”
“You have so many pretty girls, but you are a sweet friend. Thank you.” He pauses now, and you pause with him, his blue eyes glinting as there are lights flashing all around you all, in the middle of the dance floor. “What’s wrong, Satoru?”
What’s wrong is how he wants to kiss you, to kiss his best friend, he wonders if your lip gloss tastes yummy, and he shouldn’t wonder. He’s kissed girls, but he has never wanted to kiss anyone like he does you, you’re looking up at him curiously, his hand on the small of your back now. You’re always so shy and insecure, and Satoru doesn’t know why.
You’re so beautiful.
He should tell you.
Instead however, he opens his mouth, then closes it, to open it again, finally he just leaves you. You’re trembling in embarrassment, scowling now and following him out of the throngs of people as people are watching and whispering. You stomp out into the hallway, he even walks right out of the double doors. You follow him and are shouting his name.
“You’re so rude sometimes! You shouldn’t have asked me if you didn’t want to!” You shout, feeling tears pricking your eyes, and Satoru turns around then, tears glistening in his own eyes, making you pause.
“Why can’t you understand?” He asks, cupping your face with a cool hand, and it feels far too good on your overheated cheeks.
“Understand what, that my best friend is being mean?”
“I’m not being mean. I can’t… I can’t…” He exhales now, hormonal brain whirling, why can’t he think of anything good to say!? Why can’t he tell you he’s got it so bad for you, that you’re all he thinks of sometimes? But he’s so scared because you’re so close to him, such a good friend. What if you don’t feel the same?
“You can tell me anything. Always.” You cup his hand on your cheek, he feels how warm it is under his touch, leaning down now, your eyes dart to his lips, lashes casting shadows on your cheeks. “What are you…”
Satoru presses his lips against yours, your first kiss ever, you pause as your heart is pounding in your chest, unsure of what to do. Where do you put your hands!? Where do you… stand? You step back and look at him with shock, he’s so serious which is nothing like the Satoru you know, a goofy silly boy who’s always bright and smiling.
“You just kissed me.” You whisper, unable to say what you want to, that you have never felt your heart beat so fast, that you have never imagined a kiss from the boy you have it so bad for. That you’re so happy you could spin.
“I did.” Is all he manages, it sounds choked out, as he leans close again, the wind fluttering leaves around your feet, in uncomfortable platform heels you’ve stolen from your mother’s closet.
“But don’t you have a date tonight?” You touch your lips, still tingling with him, and Satoru gulps now, visible, leaning in close again. “Don’t confuse me, please, you would never be interested in me.”
“Why do you think that way? Why can’t you see that I-”
“Satoru!” Satoru’s date comes out now, and you feel terrible, you feel so embarrassed, especially when he shoots her a smile, and then a sullen look at you as she grabs his arm. “Oh it’s Satoru’s little friend. You’re like a little sister, right?”
You glare hurt eyes at Satoru now, and he feels himself closing right back up, knowing how bad those words hurt you, how confused you must be. “A little sister? Is that what you call me?” You ask, quietly, hiding your every feeling.
“I said we were really close like family, yes, but…” You laugh just a bit, blinking back tears, looking at his date now.
“He’s definitely just like family. Have fun you two.” You stomp off then, and Satoru wants to stop you, wants to say something, but he thinks he’ll just make it worse. You left right after, he didn’t see you the rest of the dance, and the next week at school you were back to normal, his sweet friend, you both didn’t bring it up, what happened.
Satoru knew he hurt your feelings, and he didn’t know how to apologize, or how to tell you how much the kiss meant, and how badly during every school project, every study session, that he wanted to do it again. So instead, he just stays your friend, wondering if you forgot it all.
*****
Present Day
You feel pesky tears prick the back of your eyes, sighing shakily now as Satoru’s lips pout just a bit, his brows drawn together. “You felt something for me? Then?”
“Yes, I wanted to tell you, but I fucked it all up.” You remember how hurt you were, to be called that, after your first kiss, remember rushing home and crying in your bed all night.
“I thought it was some dare or something.” You admit, and he leans forward, shaking his head, pulling you more firmly against his hard body, a body you’ve dreamt of being pressed against this way more than once.
“No, not at all. You looked pretty in that dress, I remember it like it was yesterday, exactly what you wore.” Satoru’s voice gets husky as his gaze lowers, to your breasts that are showcased in black and red lace over your dress, you feel it like a caress, filling you with longing.
“You were my first kiss.” You say now, his eyes widen in surprise.
“I didn’t know that.”
“You never asked. You never brought it up again.” You swipe at an errant tear as Satoru cups your face gently.
“I was a shithead.” You giggle now, nodding. “You’re not supposed to agree!”
“Well you were. Why’d you kiss me, Satoru?” You lean in close, lips just a breath from him now, tasting his sweetness on his lips, tantalizing you.
“I thought it would be my epic moment. You rushed after me, thought I’d tell you how I feel, finally. But then…”
“How did you feel?” He sighs now, kissing your lips once more.
“You listened to story number two, I said I’d treat you for being so good. On the nice list, hmm?” You giggle again, as he kisses down your chest.
“You’re avoiding the question… mmm… not complaining.” You gasp when he reveals one of the peaks of your breasts now, he lets out a soft moan.
“You’re so pretty.” His lips are descending on it, latching on a nipple and sucking. You enwrap your hands in his hair, pulling it while he sucks on it with his hot mouth.
Desire shoots down your body, making you tremble, Satoru’s hand presses against your tummy, fingers slipping against the soft velvet of your dress, your eyes roll back at how good it feels when his teeth nip at the peak. He pulls back, strings of saliva dripping from his lips, then he’s pulling your other one out, shifting you to straddle his lap, and you feel him.
Fuck he feels so good against you, when you sink down on his lap, and he’s got another peak in his mouth, his hand squishing the other, lips trailing back up, looking at you under those snowy lashes. You’re trembling now, thighs tense as you feel his length under those slacks, pressing against soaked panties. His head falls back as he sinks your hips lower.
“Oh my god.” He murmurs. “You’re so wet from just that? You’re so desperate for me, hmm?”
“Oh fuck you.” You glare, he laughs softly as you try to back up, yanking you back down.
“I like you so needy. It’s cute.” Your eyes are just narrowed now, and you slide your hips down his length, earning him tensing, sucking in a breath.
“You’re needy. It’s so cute.”
“Brat.” He brings your lips back down to his, and relishes in the feel of you, the taste of you. God he’s wanted this for so long, but he has to tell you, he has to tell you what’s in his heart, even if he is currently thinking of sinking into the heat that’s grinding on his cock. He pulls away, physically painful, looking into your dazed eyes.
“More stories!? We’re gonna need a break, I won’t be able to focus.” Your hair is falling softly against his chest as you roll your hips again, and he presses up, feeling the slick heat even through the barriers.
“For every story you listen to, I’ll make you cum.” He watches the mess that makes you with a satisfied grin.
“But I’ve already listened to two!”
“There are three more.”
“You can’t cum five times in one…”
“You’re doubting me, hmm?” Your lips press his again, and he hoists you up, holding you effortlessly in strong arms, pressing you against the wall now, the coolness on your back doing nothing to cool down your body.
“Maybe you’re all talk, all star.” He snorts now, easing you down, pressing his arms on either side of you.
“Then a little demonstration, before the next story.” His hand slips up your dress by the hem, baring your thighs, you tremble as your eyes lock, and he finds you over your panties, dripping and sticky. “Fuck, these are ruined.”
“Shut up, Satoru.” You whine out as he presses against your clothed clit, moaning as he does, pressing his finger up higher, you’re whimpering, slick coating his fingers. “Please…”
“Please what, sweet girl?” Satoru murmurs softly, and you’re trembling, hand gripping his wrist, feeling the strong muscles on his arm.
“Touch me.” He slips his fingertips under your panties now, finding your aching clit and rubbing in circles, making you throb around nothing, head slamming back into the wall as his lips capture yours again. He moves in tantalizing circles, quicker and quicker, working you up, making you want more and more. “Ngh!”
“Those sounds you make, fuck.” He huffs, pressing his finger up more, blue eyes flicking over your face, free hand cupping your chin. “Let go, I’ve got you.”
He starts pressing up more, your cunt soaking his fingers as he works your clit so good, you’re gasping when it hits you, the orgasm from Satoru’s long fingers that keep slipping to tease your entrance. You’re dying for more, but he pulls his finger away, your hands are clinging to his shirt, crumpling the fancy fabric, Satoru slips his finger to his lips now, moaning.
“You’re so sweet tasting. Mmm.” He kisses you again, coating your lips with your own slick, you’re grinding up against his thigh that’s now slotted between yours. “Can’t wait to drink you up.”
“Drink me, I… Toru, the things you’re saying…” He’s kissing down your cheek, down your neck, before he pulls back with a smile. “Let me…”
Your hand slips down his abdomen, feeling the muscles tense under your touches. “Not yet, horny little nerd.”
“Oh whatever!” You shove at him now, as he doesn’t allow you to touch his cock whatsoever yet, gripping your wrist above your head.
“That’s one, I’ll give you four more, but I need you to listen.”
“Or what, I’m on the naughty list?” You tease, tugging on his hat, he fixes it back on his head with a smirk. “Who knew you even remembered little things like that about me.”
“Little things? That kiss wasn’t a little thing.” You melt at his words.
Words Satoru has longed to tell you.
“Why didn’t you let me know?”
“I tried. A couple more times. Now… Come on, we’ll make an appearance, and continue this soon. Don’t you pout, can’t just use me for my body.”
“Oh god.” You breathlessly giggle as you all get back to the party, and Satoru’s snatching you up in his arms for a dance, you feel your friends gazing upon you both, sharing knowing looks. “You sure can dance, Satoru.”
“Of course I can.” He spins you now, bringing your back against him, you feel his strong chest on your back, your ass pressed against his hard thighs. His hands guide your hips as the music plays, soft and sweet like his caresses.
“So what’s next, Santa Toru? On the cringy memory train of me.”
“Cringy of you? Nah. Well, the next trip of Christmas past would be… Sophomore year of high school. Remember that bowling night?”
“Bowling night, which one?” You’re turning your head to look up at him, his santa hat is falling just so, as you sway with him, and remember.
*****
The Third Time Satoru tried to tell you his feelings
Sophomore Year of High School- age 16
Satoru and you had fallen back into an easy friendship, you all were going bowling, Suguru, Shoko, Nanami, you and Satoru. You all were always together, along with a couple other close friends, and Satoru’s new girlfriend, she was very pretty and very clingy, all over him to the point Suguru was laughing at it. Satoru could barely get a moment to breathe.
Nanami is showing you how to bowl, and something in Satoru tenses, as you’re giggling up at him and grinning, and he sees Nanami is blushing. He’s mentioned a few times he thinks you’re sweet and pretty, and Satoru supposes no one else he knows would be good enough for you, aside from his friends. But it hurts, to see his hand on your shoulders, on your back.
Satoru’s girlfriend is kissing all on his neck, irritatingly, she’s gorgeous and a star cheerleader, who should be with the star player, right? Satoru supposes that’s what is done, and he loves making out with her and more… but… something about you is addling his psyche, constantly. Every time you laugh it’s like his heart tightens, every brush of your skin against his makes him weak.
Even hugging you was hard now, so he’d backed off a bit, you’re too pretty, you smell too good, you look so pretty in those little school uniforms. He can’t even stand to see you in those skirts. Thankfully you’re just wearing blue jeans, so that he didn’t have to stress even more about you and Nanami.
Why can’t he just tell you!?
He gets so tongue tied around you, Satoru Gojo, the boy who can’t ever shut up, but with you he stutters, he stammers, he blushes. And ever clueless, you have no idea what your effects are on him, on anyone. Still so insecure, but Satoru really does not know why or how, can’t you tell that you alone make him go crazy? That all these girls are just not you.
You smile at him now, a little sad he notices, waving, and only serving to make his girlfriend clingier. You walk up now, looking at him for a moment, before looking at the group. “Does anyone want pizza? I’m so hungry, I’ll buy.”
“I’ll come with you.” Satoru stands now, his girlfriend huffs.
“Don’t leave me, Gojo.”
“Just gonna get food, you want something baby?” Baby, the little term crushes your damn teenage heart, as Satoru pecks a kiss on his girlfriend’s lips, and you can’t get over Satoru enough to even have a dating life. You compare any man to him, to this ever taller, lanky best friend of yours.
Satoru’s gotten six feet tall now, towering over everyone, and the basketball has only served to enhance every muscle. Just being at his game yesterday, seeing his muscles in his jersey had been too much to handle, you’d had to jot it all down in your diary, fast becoming a Satoru Gojo diary. Not that you could say anything, he’s always got a girl on his arm.
You remember that kiss so well, what had he been thinking? Sometimes you worry it was some dare, some joke or something. It’s the only kiss you’ve had still, though you think if you had another you could maybe start pushing that back, maybe realize it wasn’t so amazing, right?
Satoru comes with you now, walking beside you, hands in the pockets of his jeans, you all are walking toward the food court. “Missed ya short stuff.”
“Missed you, tall ass.” You giggle now as he grins down at you, nudging you. “Everyone’s short compared to you. What are you even eating!?”
“Lots of candy and cookies.”
“Ah, that’s the secret. I’ll grab you something sweet.” You order pizza for everyone, then you order churros, one of Satoru’s favorites. He moans when he sees it, hugging and picking you up, you try to ignore how the casual touch gets you.
“Thank you, sweets.” He smacks a kiss on your cheek, you cup your face carefully, looking down at your tennis shoes.
“No biggie. Gotta feed you, growing boy and all.” He starts nibbling as you all wait for the pizza to finish, sitting at a little booth now, his thighs are spread and they’re so long they’re pressing against your thighs, making you so flustered, but you’re sure he doesn’t notice.
He does notice though, he notices everything about you, he wants to tell you then, to stop this facade of friendship. But he’s on a date, and you’re both with friends in a crowded bowling alley. It doesn’t seem the right moment, but he’s carefully watching you while you are taking a little sip of your drink.
“Have a bite.” He says, and you freeze.
An indirect kiss!?
You are thinking too much!
You lean forward and take a nibble, he watches as you do, little crystals of sugar on your lips. “Yummy.”
An indirect kiss!
Satoru thinks with a smile, wiping the little bit of sugar dust off you, and then freezing. You both freeze, your eyes locked on each other, Satoru’s thumb lingers on your lower lip, eyes lowering to stare at it, your chest rises and falls with your breaths, his attention now on your collarbone, where you still wear that necklace he got you forever ago.
A friendship necklace.
“You still wear that, huh?” He asks quietly now, you touch it as is a habit, it’s a long faded half of a yin yang.
“Of course I do. Do you have yours?”
“I still have it.” You smile, brightening his heart then, and he opens his mouth, he has to just say it, to say he has that necklace dangling off a picture frame, and the picture is of you and him. A polaroid you all took together on a field trip, that he looks at it every night.
“That makes me unreasonably happy. I was sure you tossed it.”
Satoru blinks. “Tossed it?”
“Well yeah, we’re older now, and I know Suguru is your real best friend. I’m like secondary, honorary.” You playfully mess up his perfect silky locks, but he doesn’t laugh, no he’s serious again, as serious as that eighth grade dance.
“Do you like Nanami?” He asks suddenly, surprising you.
“He is sweet and so handsome, yeah. I do like emo boys a bit. Why?” You ask curiously, pretending to like Nanami, would it make it less painfully obvious that you’re in love with Satoru?
He frowns now. “I didn’t like seeing you two-”
“Pizza’s up.” Satoru uses the moment, hopping up, leaving you confused, but he doesn’t even acknowledge any of it, just grabbing the pizza boxes and smiling down at you casually.
“Satoru, what did you mean? Do you think I wouldn’t be good for Nanami?” You ask, insecurities wracking you. He shakes his head as you both head toward your friends again, through the busy room.
“No, I didn’t say that, not at all.”
“So what do you mean?” He opens his mouth again, just as his girlfriend bounces up and smiles at him, and you realize how foolish you are to think he meant that.
You all go back to being more separated, Nanami has gotten you a slice of pizza and you’re both sitting together and smiling, but your eyes keep going to Satoru, hurt in them when his clingy ass girlfriend practically drapes herself on him. Satoru needs to let these feelings go, he’s doing nothing but hurting and confusing you. So he decides the best thing to do?
A little bit of distance.
*****
Present Day
“Is that why you basically ignored me for like months?” You ask curiously, Satoru spins and dips you, bending you back over his arm in a move that would make anyone swoon, and of course you do, his lips hovering over yours.
He brings you back up, making you dizzy and breathless. “I thought I was hurting you, confusing you.”
“You definitely were confusing. But I missed you when you didn’t spend any time with me at all. That hurt.” He nods just a bit, the song is ending, and you’re still pressed so close against him.
“I wanted to say that I didn’t like Nanami with you, because I wanted to be with you. But how could I say that?”
“I don’t know… you could have tried to?”
“Stop being all logical.” You snort now. “Another orgasm on the list.” He whispers against your ear, you tremble now.
“Are you all finally going to get this tension taken care of?” Shoko asks, and you gasp, realizing they’re all watching you two.
“Tension?”
“Since high school.” Shoko says.
“Nah, Middle School.” Nanami counters.
“Even younger.” Suguru chimes in, and you watch Gojo’s cute little blush overtake his perfect pale skin.
“Seems like you all planned this.” You admonish, and they whistle, looking every which way, but Satoru looks right at you still.
“Think you’re invited to the afterparty, my place?” He says softly, unlike most of the people in dorms or frat houses, Satoru has his own place, beautiful too. You look at your friends now.
“Are they invited?”
“Nah, exclusive.”
“Oh just go, dear god. I’m so tired of the pining.” Shoko says, shoving at Satoru and handing you your coat.
“You kicking us out!?” You demand playfully, only being shooed right out, into the cold snowy night with Satoru. His hands come to warm your cheeks, as you stare at him with glittery eyes, eyes that make his heart falter every time. “Satoru I really… I’ve been… for so long…”
“Ah-ah. You have two more Christmas stories. C’mon, I’ll tell you one on the way.” You follow him breathlessly to his fancy black sports car, he turns on the heat after he starts the car, a hand pressing on your thigh. You lean close to his side, cuddling against him for warmth like a cat. “Remind me to get you cold more often.”
“I hate the cold, ugh. You’re warm though.” You snuggle closer, shutting your eyes and inhaling the scent of his cologne. “Feels so natural.”
“I know, it always scared me.”
“Did it? Wait, are we transitioning to another teen Gojo tale!?”
He chuckles now, one hand brushing against your thigh, you’re wrapped around his arm, his other hand guiding the steering wheel, the lights scattering across the dark night, reflecting his perfect profile. You feel the heat building and building, even worse by the orgasm he’d brought you, planting a little kiss on his neck.
Your lips on his neck drive him so crazy, as does your sweet little body against him, he inhales that scent he’s always loved, this vanilla cupcake scent that makes his mouth water. How do you still smell just like that? How do your lips still taste so sweet, burned in memories.
“I really should tell you how I feel too.” You say softly, and his heart pounds in his ears as he tries to focus on the road. “After your two last stories, Santa.”
“Ah, yes. Be good and listen.” His hand now wraps your waist, making your thoughts anything but nice, but you nod against his neck, holding him close. “We’re up to Senior year, are you ready for the trip?”
“Ready. What part of Senior year, spirit guide?”
“That closet.” His voice gets husky.
“Oh… oh shit.”
*****
The fourth time Satoru tried to tell you his feelings
Senior Year of High School- age 18
“I can’t believe they put us in here.” You whisper, trapped in the closet with Satoru Gojo, just last week he was proclaimed prom King, and he’s as popular as ever, somehow taller too.
Satoru’s mind is foggy as he stands in the little closet with you, he’s so close he can inhale that scent, he can feel you against him. He feels his body react, god if he just brushes against you it does. And you’re both just not as close as you once were, since the awkwardness of watching you with Nanami, who you even dated for a few months, much to his displeasure to see.
You’re both single now, something that hasn’t happened in some time, it seems Satoru always has arm candy, and you always were left to wonder if he’d ever notice you. Even in a closet, you imagine his mind is far away, perhaps on his ex-girlfriend, the prom queen and cheer captain. You couldn’t even do a somersault without getting injured, a clumsy mess.
You hate comparing yourself, but you can’t help it with Satoru, you’ve had boyfriends now, you’ve had kisses. A little more experience. But something keeps drawing you back to all the what ifs, of how someone can be so close to you, yet so distant, just out of reach, as if you couldn’t touch him like you wanted… some barrier he has.
“They’re just always thinking you have a crush on me.” Satoru says teasingly, cocky as hell. You snort, rolling your eyes.
“Uh huh. Well I don’t.”
“I don’t either.”
For some reason his words hurt you, and deeply.
Just like your errant words hurt him.
Both of you lying, both of you hurting, and for what? Well, because you still can’t picture a world where Satoru likes you, and he can’t manage to open up, to be honest with you. He’s right behind your back, you feel his breaths against your neck, blowing and tickling your hair now, making you tremble.
“Good, wouldn’t wanna break your nerdy heart.” He whispers, hands on your waist, taking it over, long fingers sinking into the jut of your hips. Your breath comes even quicker in the dark, quiet room now.
“You’re mean lately, your head’s so big I don’t know how it fits through doors.” Satoru laughs, meanly, pressing harder against you.
“Not the only thing that’s big.” He whispers, you tremble now, looking back nervously, eyes adjusting in the dark.
“W-well I won’t find out. Not your type.”
“Says who?”
“Says your very long list of girls. And that’s cool, but don’t confuse me.” You turn to him now, pressed against him intimately in the closet, and suddenly everything stops, the world stops, as he holds you in his arms. As he feels your bare skin from your crop top, so sexy he wishes no one else could see you. “Satoru…”
“You’re beautiful.” Your breath stops in your lungs, when he leans in so close, god it’s been four years since middle school, but you can still feel it lingering, that kiss all those years ago. His words muddle your mind.
“What?”
“Beautiful. You always have been, okay? Stop thinking that you’re not.” Your tears hit your eyes, while you tremble in his strong hold, fire coursing through your veins, mind whirling.
“Oh, thank you Satoru. That’s sweet.”
“Sweet? Nah.”
“It is. Thank you.” You lean up now, kissing his cheek, he shuts his eyes at how good you feel, your every curve pressed against him, his hands slipping down your hips now, you gasp, a little breathy, sexy sound. He turns his head now, lips brushing yours for just a moment.
Just a moment and then he’s devouring your mouth, tongue slipping in, taking over everything you are, and you melt with him, tongue meeting his stroke for stroke, as he presses you further against him. His hand pulls at your hair, making pain hit your scalp, but it feels so good. You moan, a sound you’ve not made with a guy, and he practically growls now.
Satoru presses you against the wall, the clothes on either side of you separating, dresses on either side of your skin when he lifts you, and your legs wrap around his hips. You pull back to suck in a breath, looking at Satoru with wide eyes, and he glints even in the dark, his lips glossy, he’s breathing as heavy as you. His strong hands grip your thighs, you feel how excited you are then.
“Satoru, what are we doing?” You ask carefully, and he wants to finally say it, in this closet, at some dumb party. He wants to say it, that he’s in love, that kissing you is better than anything he could imagine.
The door knocks now. “Seven minutes over!” You both separate quickly, you adjust your skirt, embarrassed at how you reacted, your nipples tight against your top, clearly visible, judging by his bright blue eyes that are glaring at them.
“What was that!?” You demand in a hushed whisper, and he opens his mouth, as the door keeps knocking. He glares now, opening it, and seeing it’s his ex, prom queen herself, she looks at you both and laughs now.
“Well that was probably a boring seven minutes.” You feel the words crush you, making you feel sick, you can feel you’re literally on fire from him. What is this, is this just what he does!?
Satoru sees you rushing away, and he follows you, ignoring his ex, trailing you and shouting your name. It was your turn to run from him, he supposes, usually it’s him running. He finally catches you, you’re shivering as the chill of autumn is hitting, and you’re barely wearing anything.
“You’re gonna get sick in that, wearing nothing!”
“You’re not my big brother. Certainly not right now after… what even was that!?” You demand, turning to him, eyes glistening with tears.
He feels it like a punch to the gut.
“You can’t just kiss me when you’re bored and date everyone else, everyone in your league.” Tears are falling, you’re shivering, Satoru gulps, shaking his head now.
“No, it’s not that. You’re in anyone’s league, fuck you’re out of anyone’s. I didn’t kiss you because of that.”
“Then why? Don’t you know, it means a lot to me?”
“I…”
“I’m not like you, I don't just sleep around.”
Satoru glares now. “And who says I do?”
“The entire school! And I don’t care as a friend, but I do care if you think I’m available like that.”
“You think I want to fuck you?” He asks, raising a brow, and your heart sinks in your stomach. “I didn’t try to fuck you, did I?”
“Then what…”
“Kissing, in a closet. You think that means sex? You’re cute, little virgin.” He pats your head and you smack at his hand, glaring, hurt written all over your face. Satoru hates himself so much, but he can’t say it, especially now. How can he even begin to tell you the truth!?
“I know what sex is.” Satoru glares. “I’m not an amusement, I’m your friend, you can’t act like that.”
“Fine then I won’t kiss you again, ya happy?”
“No!”
“No?” You shake your head, stomping away now, he grabs your wrist, making you glare at it. “Please, I’m sorry. I just…”
“Just what!?” Your face is covered with tears. “Just go get your prom queen, and leave me alone.”
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry I… I shouldn’t have…”
“Shouldn’t have kissed me?” You whisper, he just gulps, aching to tell you how badly he wants you, to tell you he is in love with you. But he just stands there, like a damn idiot, as you continue to cry, yanking your hand away. “Don’t worry, we’ll just forget it.”
“What!? I didn’t-”
“Good bye.”
*****
Present Day
“Damn this place is beautiful, Satoru.” You murmur as you walk in after riding the elevator up, lingering memories of high school still in the air, creating tension.
His loft is sleek and gorgeous, an expansive open space with high ceilings, windows that overlook the night, you exhale at the view. It’s illuminating the modern room softly, a mix of lights in the buildings and moonlight seeping in. Sleek paintings of all kinds decorate his walls, it’s cozy and inviting, you’ve been here before, but something is different.
Everything is different.
“You want a drink, Sweets?” He murmurs softly, his hands slipping up and down your back, creating a network of goosebumps everywhere he touches.
“Am I staying the night Toru?” You tease. He smiles so big now, illuminating the room.
“Of course you are. You won’t be able to walk when I’m done with you.” Your breath catches at his tone, he casually smirks and saunters off to his kitchen, leaving you pulsing, as if your pussy has a goddamn heartbeat. “Aw, shy now?”
“N-no. I’ll take one.” You follow him into the pretty, sleek kitchen, Satoru has cookies he’s made earlier sitting on the stove, he pulls out bottles from his bar, mixing you up a drink, you take it and eye the cookies. “Are you baking for Santa?”
“I’m interested in your cookie.”
“Oh stop!” You snort in laughter, he does too, finally taking the santa hat off, popping it right on your head carefully. You lean up, slicking back his hair into place, feeling it like silk under your touch.
“You’re getting minimum four orgasms tonight. But I’ll give you a fifth if you can guess the next time I fucked up.”
“Guess? Shit… I think it was the night we both fucked up.”
“Ding-ding-ding.” He taps your nose, you smile at it, then he sips his drink as you do, now leaning back against the counter, looking up at him. “You’ve been so good though, I think I’ll give you another right now.”
“Oh yeah? I’m on the nice list?” You gasp when he’s bending low, sinking two fingers under your panties and inside your eager cunt, he moans out loud with you when you cling to him. “Oh f-fuck…”
“S’tight, s’wet…” He’s pressing that spongy spot in your gummy little walls now, your head falls back, leg wrapped on his, he’s kissing down your neck as he presses over and over, making you see stars. “There’s that spot. Good girl.”
“Toru!” You cry out as he fingers you with his stupidly long fingers, longer than the one guy you’ve been with, longer than his entire cock. You’re sure he didn’t hit as deep as Satoru’s fingers, and he surely didn’t finger you like that. You’re overtaken, cunt dripping down his hand, down to his silver rolex and dress sleeves.
“Hear yourself, huh sweetheart? How fuckin wet you are.” His low tone just edges you further, now he’s pulling back to look at you, and you’re closer and closer.
“Fuck me, please.” You beg, he moans, shaking his head.
“Not yet.”
“Oh fuck your santa stories, and fuck me-” He slams his lips on yours, pumping his fingers in and out of your soppy little cunt now, and you hear it squishing lewdly in the quiet loft, he presses other fingers against your breast, squishing as he pumps them, until you fall over the edge now, cumming so hard you can’t see.
“There it is, you’re taking them so good.” He cooes those words, you’re already fucked out and you haven’t even been fucked by him yet. You blink and struggle to make him come into focus, gasping for stuttering breaths.
“Oh my… oh my… I…” The room is spinning, he takes his fingers, dripping wet with your arousal, shoving them into your mouth now.
“Taste how sweet you are.” He orders, and you do just that, sucking on his fingers, tongue swirling around them, your pussy is pulsing more and more wetness out, as you crave more of him. “God you’re sexy.”
“Please…” You pull him down by his collar, kissing him, swapping the taste of you, only making Satoru harder. He can’t wait to bury his face in your plump little cunt, god it’s all he can think of.
“Patience. You came twice already, look at me.” You grab him then, and he about dies, nearly cumming from your touch, gasping.
“Let me take care of you.”
“Fuck you’re a little horny brat. You have one more story.” You sigh then, head falling back, for more of Satoru’s kisses and bites, he wants to fuck you senseless, but he also wants to savor this, to make this perfect for you.
“Oh fine but I’m aching.”
Well so is he, precum making a wet spot in his boxers, straining against the fabric of his jeans, just from the smallest little touch. You’re so wet and hot there, so greedily your cunt sucked up his fingers, he can only hope he can last, if you touch him at all it will probably end him. He’s been waiting for this moment for so long.
“One more story, can you last?” He challenges. You giggle then, nodding.
“I can make it.” He studies you, bright eyed in that damn santa hat, imagining how beautiful your body must look while he gently strokes your shoulders, you bite your lip, eyes lidded with desire.
He hopes he can make it too.
*****
The Fifth time Satoru tried to tell you his feelings
College- Sophomore year- age 20
Everyone was celebrating the ball game, they had won nationals, and everyone was praising the all stars, Suguru and Satoru. They also were top of the fraternity, none of this was really your style, you were focused a little more on academics, though you helped Satoru study a ton to keep his high GPA, he was as smart as could be and still could accomplish so much.
You had been so proud of him, cheering him on from the stands eagerly. You all had taken some time to make up after that high school party, but truly you couldn’t be mad at him for long. You equated it to some strong spiked punch and being shoved in a closet together, close proximity. It certainly couldn’t be anything else.
Satoru comes up to you now with a big wide grin on his face, picking you up and spinning you, donned only in a Toga, showing far too much of his chiseled body. “Missed you short stuff!”
“Missed you too, Toru.” He hugs you so tight you hear your damn ribs creak, before he finally sets you down.
“You at a Frat Party!?”
“Yes, I had to celebrate the victory with you. So I make an appearance.”
“Elusive.” Suguru comes up and says, you hug him tightly.
“I miss you too!”
“You should hang out more.” He looks at Satoru. “Way more, shouldn’t she?”
“Um what? Sure.” He shrugs, looking away, as his friend calls him the fuck out, but luckily you’re oblivious, still a little shy, insecure thing.
If you were his you’d never feel that way.
But could you ever be? Or was Satoru stuck in this friend zone with you, until you move on, get married, have kids… go be a writer, he’s sure you’ll be famous, you’re so talented. And he’ll marry who he’s supposed to, who his parents pressure him to, and have a career with basketball, soon what would you all be, memories of each other?
But then why do you still wear it?
It’s a charm on your bracelet now, he imagines the little rope it was on broke long ago with all the wear it got, but you have his little yin charm right there, along with more charms you’ve added over the years. His gaze darts up your body, you’re wearing a sexy little grecian gown to go with the theme, with a golden crown in your hair of fake leaves.
You’ve even got glitter all over your skin, you’re so damn beautiful, like an actual goddess. So effortlessly pretty you take his breath away, he feels the effects of studying your curves right on his cock, he shifts then, hoping you can’t see it. But your eyes remain on his, as Suguru hands you a beer.
“Thanks Suguru. You all know I don’t drink these though.”
“Oh don’t be a baby, do it.” Satoru teases, you snort, and Satoru’s watching hungrily as you sip it. “What a baby sip.”
“I’m not chugging it!”
“Well I’m doing a keg stand.” Suguru gives you a little peck on the cheek, smirking as he earns Satoru’s ire. He knows more than anyone how long Satoru has been pathetic for you.
How do you not know?
“Go have fun, crazy.” You step a little closer to Satoru now, looking at the loud game of beer pong.
“Wanna play?”
“Oh god no, I’ll suck so bad.”
“Nah, c’mon.” Satoru drags you over by your hand, wondering if tonight could be the night. He’s coming off this high of winning that championship, you���re standing here looking like Venus herself, surely he can do it.
Why is he so afraid to tell you?
Soon you all are competitive, but he’s winning, annihilating you honestly, smacking every bounce you attempt, throwing and sinking endless pong balls into those solo cups. You pout now, earning his laughter as you keep sipping on your beer, until you end up with another. You finally sink one and bounce up and down, arms in the air, so fucking cute.
“Haha- take that, Toru!” You place your hands on your hips, sticking your tongue out, he’s reminded of the day he met you, the day he thought you were so cute he needed to yank your pigtails, and you’d stuck out a tongue.
“One hit and you’re claiming victory? What are you, the goddess of war?”
“Goddess of nothing, silly. You’re the one looking like a god.” You flush so damn cute now, looking down shyly at your words.
“A god hmm? Fits me.”
“Oh you’re so conceited.” You roll your eyes at him, but he does look like one, his strong, long, chiseled frame. He’s so gorgeous it makes you ache, he always has been, but it’s like every time you see him it’s worse, this need, this desire.
To be with him in so many ways.
Ways you haven’t yet, ways you shouldn’t want him.
“Finish the game, brat.” He tosses a ball your way, you laugh now, sinking another one and cheering, and soon you’re both a little tipsy, and playing together against Shoko and Suguru.
You both kick their asses, much to their dismay, Shoko opts for vodka shots like a classy bitch, Suguru is on another keg stand, and you and Satoru are giggling and dancing around to the music. It’s so loud you feel it thrumming through your entire body, Satoru’s so easy to fall into, you keep trying to hold back, but how can you? When he’s everything you’ve ever wanted.
And how can Satoru ever hold back with you? He’s tried, four different times, to tell you how much he loves you, yet… How can he? As he’s grabbing your hip, pulling you against him, your head falling on his chest, as you’re grinning so big, he just… has to say it.
He has to.
“I need to say something…” He murmurs then, you can barely hear him, leaning up closer.
“Hmm? What Toru?”
Someone bumps into you then, knocking you against Gojo, and he glares now, shoving at the drunk frat brother. You wave your arms to stop him. “What the fuck man, watch it.”
“Shit, my bad Gojo, chill.” He then grins all big as he looks at you, where your toga is now falling, revealing far too much of your breast. You squeak, quickly trying to pin it up, and now Gojo’s torn between wanting to see you, and anger at this asshole. Gojo shoves him into a wall then.
“Don’t fuckin’ look at her.” He says through his teeth, surprising you then.
“What, she's your girl? Weren’t you just banging a girl out last night?” He says with a laugh, and Satoru pauses, but you hear it.
You feel sick then, stepping back, how can you be so dumb, to think Satoru would want you, or choose you!? He’s never going to be interested, the only times he’s kissed you he was… why had he kissed you!? What was this friendship? Was it a friendship at all or you holding on to the idea of hope with him.
You’re blinking back stupid tears as you run off to a room, sobbing as you struggle to fix your toga, only for Satoru to walk in. You glare now.
“Go!”
“We’re not together, why are you mad if I fuck someone?” He demands, and you sputter, shaking your head, tears hot and sticky as they fall.
“I shouldn’t be upset.”
“Then why?” He’s right against you, big hands on your shoulders, you look up at him now, mascara streaking down your cheeks, his stomach drops at it.
“Because I’ll never be… I’ll never be…”
“Be what?”
“Yours.”
“Wh-what!?” You shake your head now, running out of the room, Satoru’s chasing you, reminiscent of two years ago, fuck it’s always a chase, a push and pull. “Come here! Stop it!”
“No, I’m done with this, with you giving me bits of affection, only to ruin them.” You shove at him now, he’s grabbing you, pulling you against him. “Don’t you kiss me, don’t you dare tease me.”
“I don’t kiss you to tease you, I kiss you-”
“For a game!”
“Shut your mouth.”
You scowl. “You shut your mouth.” Satoru shuts both your mouths, as you’re outside the insane frat house, pressing you against the brick wall of the dormitory, smothering your lips with his. You bite his lower lip, glaring as he pulls back.
“Stop running from me, stop hiding.” He begs, and you sigh.
“Why should I? I won’t be a notch on your bedpost.”
“You think-” Several people start filing out now, and Satoru’s got you pressed right on that wall, his chest heaving as he hovers, as the chaos ensues all around you both. “You think you’re that to me?”
“I don’t know what I am to you. A friend you kiss every two fucking years or so?” You say with an angry glare, and he cups your waist, burning your bare skin with his touch, shooting desire straight through you.
“You’re so much more than that. If you’d just let me show you.” He whispers, but you’re so scared then, of letting go, your breathing gets erratic, as you feel his thigh pressing between yours, moving on it, earning his soft moan, vibrating his chest as your hands slip up it. “I have to tell you something, please.”
“I’m listening, mmm.” You arch again, craving him so badly, nothing like you’ve felt with anyone, it’s so maddening.
“I really… I really…” Satoru’s pausing now, stuttering, you make him a mess, he’s resting his head on yours, feeling your heat, thinking of sinking into it. Sure he had girls, only because he couldn’t have you. You were his all consuming thoughts, but how does he put it to words?
“Really…” You urge him on, and he gulps then, panicking. What if you don’t feel the same!? What if he ruins this…
“I really… you’re really…”
“Satoru! Satoru!” They all start cheering then, a whole group of his frat brothers, fists pumping in the air, and he lets you go, leaving you aching with need, he looks at you so longingly, you’re dying to know just what he wanted to say, but he smiles then, kissing your cheek, shaking his head.
“Come on.” He yanks you with him, as everyone starts chanting for Satoru, and you try to pretend you are okay, as Satoru hides his feelings yet again, and as you think maybe you should give up on it happening.
You’re in love with him, and it hurts.
How can you let him go finally?
*****
Present Day
“You were trying to tell me something. Important.” You say softly now, in Satoru’s cozy kitchen, and he nods then, gulping, Adam’s apple bobbing.
“I was. I was trying to confess… that I love you.” You blink once, twice, three times. Surely you’re dreaming. Surely he can’t…
“You love me?” You whisper back, and he nods, so beautiful as he cups your face in his big hands.
“So you see, baby… I can’t just hook up.” Satoru’s words bring you to the present, his eyes are glossy, mirroring the deep emotions you both feel, your breaths come faster, as he lifts you up, placing you on his counter.
“All this time… you felt the same?” You whisper, he swipes at your tears now, smiling.
“You crying?” He asks, and you just nod, remembering that day. “I’ve loved you since I threw those snowballs at you. So, so long ago, I knew it, that I was in love with this pretty, sweet girl.”
“Satoru…” You snatch him to you, kissing him through your falling tears, salty against your sweet lips. Satoru’s heart feels so achingly full, his hands shake as he slips them up your thighs, he’s never been nervous until now. Never felt anything like this, like your thighs around his narrow hips, pressing his fingers into the plush of them.
“There can be no hook up, pretty. I need you to be mine if you want this, I need you to be only mine.” Satoru says softly, possessive now, you feel yourself melting more and more, feel the insane need build inside of you.
“Satoru, I’m in love with you too. I have been, since you gave me your jacket after plowing me with giant snowballs, you mean little shit.” He laughs now, through his own tears, that you swipe with trembling fingers, exhaling. “Oh Satoru, I’ve always been yours.”
He slams his lips on you now, picking you up in his arms, you cling to him as he clumsily navigates you to his room, your tongues not stopping, teeth clicking together with the force of your kisses. You’re drinking every bit of him in, as he’s drinking you in, barely coming up for air, in gasps. Your kisses get hungrier, messier, sloppier than anything you’ve ever known.
Satoru’s hands are all over you as he lays you down on his bed, pressing you into his soft, plush mattress, leaning up to study you, carefully, brushing his fingers across your cheeks, wiping the last of your tears. “All mine?”
“All yours.” He moans again, kissing you deeply, hands slipping up your dress, you’re arching up for more of his touch, his kisses, hands hastily unbuttoning his dress shirt, kissing each piece of revealed skin.
“Baby… I need to see you. Now. Please.” He says softly, giving you puppy dog eyes, you nod, so nervous, when he pulls back, pulling you to sit, and slipping your dress up over your head, the santa hat falling with it. When you’re bare to him aside from your damn panties and lacy little bra, he groans. “Oh my god.”
You are so beautiful his heart pounds in his chest, Satoru drinks you in, your every perfect curve and line, every inch of your silky smooth skin on display. He unlatches your bra with a quick flick, revealing those perfect tits he’d sucked on earlier, god you make his mouth salivate. He’s literally drooling when he gets to your panties now, a soaking mess.
“You got so wet.” He cooes, enjoying your reaction, your hips shifting, thighs pressing together, as he eases them off you, finally seeing your pussy for the first time. “Fuck it’s perfect.”
“Th-thank you… Toru!” He’s lost it now, hungrily staring at your bare cunt, glistening with your arousal, lips all puffy from his edging. He exhales, just his breath making you shiver, crying out.
“So easy, hmm?”
“Oh you… ah!” Satoru breathes against you again, grinning as you jerk, as much as he wants to make love love to you, god he also wants to fuck you senseless.
“Imma ruin you for anyone.” His insane words versus the sweetness wreck you already, you’re screaming out when he flicks his tongue up your slit, looking down into his bright blue eyes, seeing the shift. Satoru is going feral as he inhales you, pressing his face against you, nose bumping your engorged clit, kissing at your entrance.
“Toru!” Your hands are gripping his hair so tightly you’re pulling it, as you feel him against you, as he tastes you there. Then he’s devouring your pussy, spreading the lips wide, tongue sliding into your velvety walls, fucking you with it, making you start to gush all over his pretty face, moaning as your back arches.
Satoru’s lapping up all your honeyed arousal, as you start dripping everywhere, and your walls are fluttering around that wet muscle. “F-fuck, taste s’good… god could do this forever.”
“Ngh!” Is all you manage, incoherent at the pleasure his mouth is giving you, feeling your peak coming as he slips two fingers back in you, pulling back and looking up at you, face glittering in your slick. The sight of it edges you on, as he finally licks your clitoris, just one flick and you shatter.
“That’s it, good girl… s’good f’me.” He whispers, as you’re pulsing around his thick fingers, and he laps up more of your cum. “You’re so messy.”
“M-messy…” You can’t function, you’re trembling with aftershocks, he grins at you, an insane feral fucking grin, his silky white locks falling just so. “Please, lemme see you.” You manage, and he gulps now, blushing pink, shocking you since he’d just been so cocky. “Satoru, lemme touch you.”
“Not too much, I won’t last.” He admits, and leans back off the bed standing, you watch him, raising up on your elbows, hair falling down behind you softly like a curtain. He starts to get undressed, and you drink every inch he bares in slowly, his hard, chiseled body, all the lean muscles, abs cut within an inch of your life. Your eyes go lower now as he unbuckles his belt.
You bite your lip, cunt still aching from his play, from the pleasure he has brought you, but when he gets to his boxers, and your eyes trail down the white hair below his belly button you gasp. His cock slaps that belly button when he takes off his boxers, and Satoru Gojo is huge, thick, long with a curved pink tip, beading with pearly white precum already.
“Oh my god… you’re so beautiful, Satoru.” You say softly, coming to your knees on the bed, he exhales nervously, he has always known he looks good, but hearing you say it meant everything. Seeing the desire makes your eyes dilate and glitter, as your eyes worship him.
“You’re beautiful, especially on your knees.” You kiss down his abdomen, then you kill him, when you grip his cock with your tiny little hand, that friendship charm still dangling from your wrist, and God Satoru cannot wait to buy you real jewelry, a ring to glitter as you stroke him.
His hands enwrap in your hair, pulling it into a ponytail as you lap at his tip with a kitten flick, making his eyes roll back, he can tell you’re maybe not experienced as you try to suck, making out with his tip, but he loves it, he loves you. Anything you’re doing to him, your soft strokes and you sucking more and more, until you’re drooling all over his cock.
“I need to be inside you, now baby. Sorry, I can't take this.” He has you back on your back so quick you barely blink, and then you feel him, stroking his thick tip on your slick cunt, you’re shaking, arching up, so ready.
“Will it fit though?” You ask, and he chuckles, blushing more now.
“As wet as this pussy is? Fuck yeah it will.” You whimper as he’s kissing you, pushing your legs apart with his knee, and aligning his cock with your soaking entrance. “You ready?”
You nod, breath shaky, and Satoru pushes in, so slowly, letting you feel every inch of his thickness filling you up, stretching you. You feel so full, so complete with him inside you, he gasps as he sinks deeper, stretching and burning your skin, but you crave it, you want more, more, more.
He grips your hands, entwining them above your head, so intimate and beautiful you want to cry. “God, baby, you’re so tight. So wet. Fuck… look at you.” He sinks in deeper, lifting a thigh now, releasing a hand, eyes studying every bit of your face as you take more of him. “So pretty.”
“Satoru!” You’re whining out, your nails digging into his back as his cock sliding deeper, deeper still, so many inches you can’t comprehend, until he’s shoved so deep you feel him against your cervix. “Oh my god…”
“Oh my god…” He moans right with you, your pussy clenching him so tight, he can feel your walls gripping him like a vise, but you take him, fuck you take him, so greedy your slick little cunt, pushing him over the edge. “Fuck.. that’s it… slutty little cunt loves it, hmm?”
“Slutty, I- you- ah! There, there!” You scream out when he hits that spot with his tip, dragging on it inside your walls, and you’re pouring so much wetness you can hear it, as the gentle slap slap slap of his pelvis on your ass hits, as his balls are smacking your little ass hole, and his white hair is grinding on your clit when he bottoms out, you’re soaking his veiny length, dripping onto his fancy covers.
“That’s it, baby, s’good. Taking this dick like it’s made for you.” He huffs, fucking you harder now, faster, making you shudder as he slips his hand between you both, pressing a thumb against your clit, making you cum so hard all you see is stars, glittery fucking darkness.
Is this what you’ve been missing!?
“L-love you…. L-love - ah!” You’re brokenly confessing as he lifts a thigh, pressing it high, yanking your hips down more on his length, fucking you harder and harder with every thrust.
“You’re m-mine now, baby. All - f-fuck- mine, to fuck whenever I want, however I want. Got me baby?” He whispers, losing it over you, you’re so perfect, so wet, so pretty under him, he’s imagining every position he wants you in, every place he wants to fuck you in, how he wants to cum in your perfect little cunt, fill you. “Answer me baby, answer me.”
His voice is whiny, pleading, you’re barely able to take a breath or function, damn near falling off the earth, clinging to his perfect skin for any stability, as he starts to pound mercilessly into your pussy. Sweat drips down his nose onto one of your breasts, which he squishes with his hand, pinching your nipple and twisting as he fucks so hard it hurts.
“Too much, too much.” You manage, and he smiles now, that cocky Satoru you’ve known your whole life, leaning down and rolling his hips just so, grinding that leaky tip against your cervix, pushing you to cum again, this time you’re drooling, mouth wide open.
“Aw you’re s’cute like this… look at you. Drooling. Dumb fucked out look.” You can’t even be mad, you want him to keep going, so you whine, nodding just a bit, earning his grin. “And you like it, being so slutty just for me. Only me.”
“Y-you.” Is all you manage, but it’s enough to send him over the fucking edge, pressing your thighs up high, smushing your breasts, now he’s so deep you feel him everywhere, your stomach, your entire body, he’s moaning as he watches your tummy bulge between your thighs.
“Feel me, everywhere, fucking up your guts… huh?” You just weakly nod, whining as you’re so embarrassingly wet, you hear every slutty sound of his cock wrecking you. “Made f’me, s-say it again.”
“Made for ah- y-you! Satoru!” He’s groaning, leaning his heavy weight on you, pelvis smacking hard as he stuffs you so full, too fucking full, and now he’s cupping your face, insane swirling blue eyes drinking you in.
“Anyone fill you yet, baby?” You shake your head, and he grins even more psychotically. “Good, Imma fill you up, gonna be d-dripping me for days.”
“C-cum in me, cum in me. D-do it, please.” You beg, you don’t fucking care, you want it, you need it. His hips stutter, mouth dropped open as his cock thrusts harder and harder in your now sloppy pussy, so wet and needy she’s sucking him up.
“Cum in you? F-fill you baby?” He’s so sweet now, a psychotic contradiction that you don’t think you’ll ever get enough of. “Put a baby in you?”
“Baby!? I… fuck it… yes! Put one in me, please.” You’re pathetic for him, and he relishes in it, starting to thicken, as your cunt milks him.
“Gonna breed you, f-fuck you feel so- ah - gonna breed your pussy, every fucking day, got me? Say yes baby.”
“Y-yes, please…” He whimpers then, Satoru Gojo, all star, prom king, the strongest man you know, whimpers as he begins to cum inside you so deep, coating your walls with his hot white ropes. You cum just from that, clinging to him, he slams his lips on yours over and over in messy kisses.
“Never felt this, oh my god… your pussy what the… yes baby take it all… f-fuck please…” He’s whining as he pushes his cum deeper inside you, stuffing you so full, still pressing you up, folding you. You’re sobbing now, overwhelmed, pussy so sore but she’s milking him more, even as he’s dripping down his cock and your ass, mixed with your glistening cum.
He’s exhaling now, easing your thighs down, kissing you deeply, over and over, you’re clinging to him, trembling legs so sore, still full of him. He leans up and takes a deep breath, looking at you with those endless blue eyes, eyes that you adore, that face you adore. You get choked up now, tears falling, tears that he gently wipes, like he wasn’t just pounding your cunt.
He’s looking at how beautiful you are under him, the girl he’s loved for as long as he’s even known, tears glittering pretty on your cheeks. “You’re pretty crying, y’know that?”
“Sadistic ass. That’s why you threw the snowballs.” He smiles down at you, so handsome your heart aches.
“You’re mine now. Mine forever.” His words should be crazy, but as you look at the little charm glittering in the night, cupping his face, his words aren’t crazy at all.
“I want to be yours forever. Satoru, I have for so long. I’ve been so scared when you leave…”
“You’re coming with me. Yeah? Basketball wife?” He says with a grin, and you nod then, through your tears, through your smile, a myriad of emotions.
When he’s cleaned you up, and it’s slowly falling snow outside, Satoru has you in his lap once more, his Santa hat on, as you sip cocoa. “Are there more stories I need to know about, Santa Toru?” You ask teasingly, lapping a little whipped cream from your steaming hot mug.
“There is the time I saw you in the girls locker room.”
You glare. “What now!?”
“On accident!”
“Oh this better be good.” You snatch his cocoa up with a scowl.
“Don’t take my cocoa baby, you’ll get on the naughty list.” He says with a glare, and you’re glaring right back.
“Oh, I’m so scared Santa!” He bends you over the chair now, slipping his hand up under the dress shirt of his you’re wearing, with nothing else. You gasp when his hand smacks your ass cheek, making you jolt, desire pooling in your tummy all over again, when he leans forward over you.
“Merry Christmas. It’s midnight.” He says, you peek at that watch, as he smacks your other ass cheek, and you’re moaning, head falling back. “Looks like you’re not gonna be able to sit for Christmas dinner.”
And that was the final time Satoru tried to tell you his feelings, and this time it worked, and you felt the same the entire time <3
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I hope you all enjoyed the cuteness and idiots in love, it was a request for a 5+1 that FLEW off the handle. Ty for readingggg
Gen Masterlist here
Geto’s 5+1 HERE
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cosmictheo · 5 days ago
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𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐊 𝐎𝐅 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 | kang dae-ho
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—summary: a sudden closeness of you and player 333 makes dae-ho's usually sweet mood swing in the opposite way, triggered by pure jealousy. why would you ever need anyone else when you've got him right there? —pairing: kang dae-ho/player 388 x female!reader —word count: 4.5k —contains: +18, smut !!! (minors dni), p in v sex, unprotected sex, creampie, descriptions of the reader having female genitalia, some porn with some plot, really passionate sex, voyeurism, public sex, sub dae-ho!!! (canon), slight praise kink if you squint, he talks to you through it, jealous and possessive behavior, fluff, dae-ho being so in love with the reader.
writer’s note: english is not my mother tongue, so please forgive me if there is a grammatical error. hope you like it!
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Kang Dae-ho had been protecting you ever since he had helped you survive Green Light, Red Light, the first game of all this hell in disguise as a promising new opportunity.
Not knowing you from absolutely nothing, he stepped right in front of you, stretching a hand out to the back to hold yours and guide you across the arena, playing human shield until together, you had crossed the finish line. 
And that basically summed up the kind of person Dae-ho is; kind-hearted, courageous, selfless, caring. He was one of the best people you had ever met and he was making this whole calvary into something much better, something brighter, something to keep fighting for until you made it out of there.
Since that, he had stuck by your side, practically standing as your own shadow, constantly putting you first, looking out for your well-being and safety. Without him, you would probably be dead by now, devoid of purpose.
The other players had already gotten used to seeing the two of you together, always watching each other's backs and fooling around and strategizing. Through thick and thin, you were together.
It was only a matter of time —hours—; before something else began to spark between the two of you, growing every time your hands brushed, or when he wrapped an arm around your shoulders or when your bodies cocooned in each other's warmth at night when you slept. A tension was just starting to build, an emotion that for some reason, would always make Dae-ho nervous and flustered, whenever you'd smile at him or clasp his bicep to be by his side every time Gi-hun related a story from his past experience at the games, or when you'd lean your head on his shoulder or when you'd hug each other every time a game ended.
Whatever it was, out of the same feeling, Dae-ho sensed a heaviness in the pit of his stomach, feeling as if his guts were constricting like a viper, every time you chatted with the 333 player.
He looks at you from the distance, frowning slightly as you laugh at something the guy says, he doesn't even know why he dislikes him so much... he just does.
“Why are you all puckered up?” Jung-bae questions him, pausing his own story to express concern for his teammate's face, following his gaze until he finds you, naturally.
Dae-ho clicks his tongue, shaking his head gently, his tone of voice fluctuating between disbelief and annoyance, "Why is she even over there? It's dangerous"
“Dangerous? Buddy, she's just talking to him. He saved her in the last game, remember?” Jung-bae answers him, confused by the uncharacteristic grumpy attitude of the younger man, used to the sight of him being so cheerful and jovial and optimistic.
“If it weren't for him, she wouldn't be here,” Young-il adds, also glancing at how you whisper with player 333, “She's just being polite.”
But Dae-ho huffs humorlessly, forcing his eyes to drag from you to Jung-bae standing in front of him, his fingers still grasping his fork tightly, not really feeling like eating lunch today, “Bullshit, I would've saved her anyway. She didn't need him.”
Gi-hun rolls his eyes, sitting by his side as he quietly observes the whole scene, chewing a mouthful of rice, “You're just jealous, man, admit it,” he pronounces with his mouth half full, eyes attentively scanning Dae-ho's reaction.
The whole group of men laugh upon seeing Dae-ho's face morph to one of embarrassment and some offense, cheeks blushing furiously at Gi-hun's fake allegation.
“I'm n-not jealous” he tries to defend himself with a stuttering voice, looking frantically around the amused faces of the men around him, his fingers letting his fork drop by his twitching and nervous state, attracting the attention of a few players who were nearby, including yours, which only makes Dae-ho to blush even redder.
Jung-bae smiles playfully, picking up the fork that had fallen to the ground, “And you're being overdramatic.”
“I am not!” Dae-ho squeals, his brow furrowing as he stands up and yanks the fork out of Jung-bae's hand. As the whole group laughs at him, his eyes again search for you in the crowd, finding you in record time, and his whole face darkens again as he notices the way your hand is resting down the player 333's forearm, like you would usually do with him.
He sighs heavily and for the first time, he seriously considers the words of the older men.
Time passes unnoticed within that place, hours perhaps, days? No one really knows.
But the warning that the lights go out in thirty minutes usually means that you should lie down and rest for the next event that the monsters who created this have planned for you all.
The first thing you notice when you arrive at the bed you share with Dae-ho, is that he is lying on his side with his back to you, which concerns you a little, since he never had his back to you when he would sleep.
Something is off.
“Dae-ho?” you call out his name in a gentle whisper, sitting down on the bunk and looking across the broadness of his back with worried eyes, “Are you okay?”
No response.
“Hey,” you try again gently, thinking that maybe he's not exactly having a good day, considering the current situation you're stuck in.
Dae-ho is feeling his chest heaving as he senses your hand laying on his shoulder, fingers delicately squeezing his flesh beneath the tracksuit jacket. 
And suddenly, he's cracking up.
“I'm trying to sleep” and yet, he replies to you curtly, without showing even the slightest sign of rolling over and wanting to actually look at you.
You admire his back with unconvinced eyes for a moment, lying down on the bed and resting your head on the pillow, your hand moving from his shoulder, down his back, across his shoulder blades, before dropping to the surface of the bed.
“You sound off.”
Dae-ho considers his options; whether to just keep talking to you in that oh-so-ungentlemanly way —which made him physically cringe—; whether to express everything he was feeling or just stay quiet and pretend to sleep.
In any case, he acts on impulse, rolling over so he can finally look at you, his eyes softening the instant they meet yours, his heart beating hard and fast, pounding in his ears.
“It's not good for you to associate with players outside our group,” he suddenly blurts out and sees how you just stare at him with further confusion washing over your pretty face, “It could be dangerous.”
“What do you mean?” you inquire, silently urging him to elaborate on his point. You are quick to notice how deadly serious his face is, his lips lightly pursed and his eyes solemn, a look that is unusual on him. You don't like to see him like that, like everyone there usually acted.
“Player 333,” he replies, jaw clenched, his eyes following you as you sat up again on the bed, looking down at him in sheer confusion, as if somehow, you aren't recognizing him, “I saw the way he was looking at you.”
He sounds... hurt? Disappointed?
“Lee Myung-gi” your face turns enlightened, finally understanding what he's referring to now.
Dae-ho deflects his gaze away from yours, slightly rolling his eyes. Whatever that idiot's name was...
“I was just talking to him. He saved me in the last game, Dae-ho,” you explain in an overly naive tone, a little smile curving the corner of your lips, “I went to thank him”
“But I am the one doing that, that's why I'm here. You didn't need him, you have me,” he retorts back to you instantly, your name being pronounced by his lips like a plea for mercy, gesturing to himself with his hand for emphasis on his words. Your brow furrows at the same time as his, your lips turning into a small pout, feeling like a scolded child, “I was going to save you anyway! You only need me, no one else...”
His voice fades the more he speaks, shaky hand brushing through his loose hair. And now you notice it, the betrayed and hurt expression on his face, his eyes hiding something more than friendliness, something much deeper and bigger.
He is jealous.
“Why are you acting like this all of a sudden?” you are questioning him, getting more comfortable on the mattress, your voice keeping low so as not to wake the others, but also firm on your side of the little argument. You had done nothing wrong, “He was just being a good companion—”
“He didn't seem to be performing the good companion role,” Dae-ho interrupts you, spitting out the words as if they were venomous, rising himself up to also sit on the bed and face you, gesticulating with his hands, his tone of voice is fueled by sarcasm and subtle irony now, “I didn't like the way he was looking at you... neither how you were touching him with your hand.”
He crosses his arms and resembles a sulky kid who's had his favorite toy taken away, but you're too pissed off to pause and laugh at him.
Instead, you roll your eyes, starting to unbutton your jacket, feeling too hot all of a sudden, Dae-ho's eyes follow your fingers as they pull down the zipper, “You're being overdramatic.”
"I'm not!" he gasps-whispers, expression offended, he genuinely does seem to be feeling betrayed by what you had done. He leans close to you, so close that you feel the natural warmth of his body, but you stand your ground, looking at him with baffled eyes, his gaze remains soft yet aching, “I'm just looking out for you.”
“You'd rather I touch your arm then?” you raise an eyebrow on your forehead, dropping the jacket by the bottom of the bed, holding his gaze, “Is that what this is all about?”
The effect of your words in instantaneous on Dae-ho, blushing and causing him to pull away from you rather abruptly, brushing his hand through his hair again like a maniac.
“Yes,” he replies with certainty, the word barging into his throat before he could even think of a reasonable response, so he shakes his head slightly, “I mean no— I mean yes—” he cuts himself off, flustered by your attentive gaze, “—that's not the point! The point is that you don't need to go to anyone else when you have me right here.”
He gulps hard, eagerly waiting for your reaction through desperate, sheepish eyes.
“I know,” you whisper, letting out a soft sigh from your mouth, switching to a more empathetic postur. Then you nod your head and stretch out a hand towards him, who wastes no second in reaching out to take it and pull it close to his chest, nuzzling your knuckles with his thumb, “But he just dragged me with him, I couldn't do much,” you offer him a small apologetic smile, “I know you would have saved me anyway, Dae-ho.”
“Of course,” he murmurs your name, bringing your hand to his mouth to press his lips onto your knucles, kissing your smooth skin, “You're not alone, you're with me. You are everything...”
Without saying anything, you move closer to him and hug him. Dae-ho is more than happy to reciprocate your embrace, wrapping his beefy arms around your waist and hiding his face in your neck, breathing in your sweet and comforting scent, the scent he so adores. You feel his warm breath against the sensitive skin of your neck and a shiver runs through you from head to toe.
One of your hands goes up to his head, caressing his hair, fingers sinking into his dark long locks, the soothing and so intimate touch making him sigh.
“You're jealous,” you murmur after a moment of comfortable, heart-warming silence, and he stiffens, his body freezing, you can feel the way his muscles tense against yours.
Dae-ho pulls away from you just a little, far enough to be able to look at you, offering you a sheepish little smile, his cheeks blushing from all the attention and touch and closeness, the way you're talking and looking at him has him breathless.
“Maybe a little,” his expression shifts to one of shame as he dares to confess, valiantly enough to hold your gaze, letting himself fall into the gentleness of your eyes, always so lively and playful, but as beautiful and sparkling as a pair of gemstones, with your long lashes brushing your cheekbones every time you blink.
His hands gently squeeze your waist, contouring your curves and fitting into them perfectly, as if crafted for him to touch and hold.
“You don't have to be jealous, sweets,” you assure him, like a promise, a complicity, leaning into him again.
Dae-ho swallows loudly, squeezing his eyes shut as he feels your beautiful soft lips press down onto his throat, kissing his bouncing Adam's apple. He can feel himself in heaven, letting himself be swept up by the way you are treating him, the way your hands run down his body, passing down his chest until they stop at his midsection, just at the moment your tongue traces across his skin, making him hiss, feeling all the air being knocked out of his lungs.
“Fuck— ngh,” he whimpers, his whole body aching with heat, his heart pumping hot blood into his crotch, heartbeats matching up with each of your wet kisses on his neck.
His big hands wander over your waist, lightly caressing your lower back, fingers barely grazing the curve of your ass above the fabric of your tracksuit pants, clasping the flesh, pressing you helplessly against his body. His touch is needy, but nonetheless respectful, as gentlemanly as ever.
“Is this okay?” comically enough he's the one to ask as your mouth reaches his chin by a wet trail of soft kisses through his skin and he almost feels himself cumming into his boxers by the way you open your eyes to look up at him, pupils dilated in pleasure.
You sigh out a soft chuckle and your breath crashes against his half-open lips, needily breathing in your air, breathing you in. Your fingers fiddle with the edge of his jacket.
“You want this?”
It's stupid that you even had the mere thought of that question.
“Yes, please, baby— please,” Dae-ho rushes to answer, hands squeezing everything they could grab from you, desperately, “Can I kiss yo—”
Before he managed to formulate the question your lips are on his and from one second to the next he pulls you close to sit on his lap, making you feel his erection press against the underside of your thigh.
Frantically, between kisses, tongues recognizing each other and hands grasping what they can of the other, he helps you to remove his shirt, breaking away for just a moment to pull it over his head, looking at you with eyes darkened with desire.
He groans against your mouth as you kiss again, your teeth nibbling gently on his bottom lip.
“Shh...” you coo against his lips, pushing him down to make his back lay against the bed, “You don't want the others to hear, do you?”
A playful smile stretches at the corner of his lips, squeezing your butt once you leaned over him to begin kissing his chest, his eyes rolling back in pleasure, feeling the way your back arches.
“I wouldn't mind if 333 listens—”
“Dae-ho,” you name him disapprovingly, but your eyes are heavy with playfulness and longing.
He gazes adoringly up as you take off your shirt, eyes roaming down your neck, across your chest, down your stomach.
“You're so pretty, fuck— come here,” he tugs you closer to him to kiss you one more time, his hands detaching from your hips to lift his own, pulling down his pants and his now, wrecked boxers, clumsily sliding the waistband of the cloth down his thighs.
His dick springs free and it has you open-mouthed, staring down at it with eyes of raw longing and adoration. His mushroom-shaped, leaking, needy head bumps barely against his lower abdomen, lining up with his happy trail.
Dae-ho blushes under your gaze, one of his hands caresses your hip to attract your attention back to his face.
“Can you handle it, baby?” his tone of voice lowers sheepishly.
Your cunt pulsates around nothing from his words only and in less than ten seconds, you're stripping off your pants too, pulling your soaking wet panties aside. He can actually feel how wet you are when your pussy barely brushes against his bare crotch, he has to resist to keep from cumming right there.
“I can— fuck, yeah— I can handle it,” you babble tremblingly through gentle gasps as he reaches his cock, stroking it three times before he aligns it with your inviting hole, rubbing it slowly up and down your slit to scoop up all of your wetness, and use it as a natural lube.
Dae-ho bites down on his lower lip to muffle a moan that ascends his throat, feeling the head of his cock push up into the tight entrance of your pussy, plunging between your slick folds.
He leans his forehead flat against your chest, nestling right between your breasts, his whole body trembling from a riot of pleasure, muffling his moans and noises against your skin.
“Shit, y-you're— h-hah— you're so wet,” he raspes out into your bare skin, his lips slurring insults and name-calling you like a prayer, a poem through your sweaty skin, his tongue rolls out from between his parted lips, coating your skin with his drool. 
His hands are roaming over your hips, each digit digging into the fat of your ass, never applying weight, giving you all the time you needed to settle onto his size, yet his voice was desperate and eager with anticipation, “So tight— so pretty.”
Your lips are pressed against the crown of his head, breathing shakily as you begin to lower yourself into him achingly slow, drawing a gasp from both of you. Your palms squeeze his broad shoulders, suppressing the urge to cry out with every inch he is pushing his way inside you, your pussy fluttering and squishing him deeper.
“Yeah, just like that, that's it,” Dae-ho is praising you, pressing sloppy kisses all over your tits, fingers caressing your lower back while his other hand pats your ass appraisingly, “just a little more, baby, a little m-more and I'm all yours— I'm yours.”
His words really touch your very core, hand sliding up his neck to sink into his hair and pull it, making him hiss as he licks your nipple. Your pussy swallows another inch of him and you feel him in your fucking guts by now. He feels your squishy walls clench around him like a vice and he refuses to even think about the possibility of a life without feeling like this again.
“Dae-ho,” you whimper his name as the bulging tip of his cock reaches a particular spongy spot and instantly your whole body reacts as well.
“Mh-hm,” his lips lick and kiss your collarbone all the way up your neck and then he kisses your lips, “I'm here. I got you, I always got you,” his eyes finally lock with yours again and you nearly feel every single muscle and organ in your abdomen twitch when you notice tears being held back in them, all from the flood of pleasure and bliss your body is giving him.
He can feel himself in heaven, beneath you, his hips grinding up into yours as his cock is plunged so deep inside you.
Dae-ho kisses you again, intoxicated, a thread of spit remains connecting your mouths once you part.
A few more long seconds and you're all the way down sitting on him, his heavy, throbbing balls pressed flush against your ass. Your pussy envelops him thoroughly, molding into his shape as you breathe a deep sigh and Dae-ho breathes out as well when your nails dig into his shoulder blades.
“There you are, my baby, you're doing s-so good,” he croaks, fondling your backside affectionately, feeling your dampness dripping down his thighs, “Holy shit you feel good... I'm so deep—”
And when you start to move on top of him, he has to close his eyes, his sweaty palms pawing your ass, hopeless for your mercy. 
But you have no mercy, your pussy, your thighs, your fucking hips, the way you look down at him and ride him, giving him whiplash with every bounce. And he can swear he knows you from another life, from the way his cock forms a shape inside you, reaching parts within you that no one else has been capable of reaching before, as if your body was made for him— no, as if he was made to fit your body.
“My God—” he hiccups and you press your forehead against his, seeking his lips with yours to silence you both, pushing him down until he's lying flat on the mattress.
The bunk just barely creaks beneath the relentless sway of your hips slamming into his, ass bumping hard down on his thighs, taking him all the way down and up again, so deep that every time you bottom out you feel him in your fucking throat.
“You feel so good, baby,” you whine, looking down at him and all of his body is reacting to the petname.
You take in the gorgeous sight that is his face flushed with utter pleasure, eyes squinting, sweaty arms wrapping all around you and holding you impossibly close, his lower belly tensed and cramped.
He looks so pussy drunk, drinking and drinking in your body and essence, everything you provide. The tought makes you feel your insides flip, squeezing into a knot. And Dae-ho feels it too.
You bend down, lips falling onto his shoulder, trailing down to the tattoo on his side and when your tongue traces the black ink, exactly when his engorged tip brushes against your fucking cervix and your ass does a particularly powerful bounce on his thick thighs, he starts to feel his body twitching, reaching that exquisite release. He begins to cum, wracked by a rush of erotic bliss that has him seeing stars in the pitch-black.
His hips begin to meet yours in mid-between your wild bouncing and your pussy squelches around his cock, ready to take in all he has to give.
“I'm cumming— hah— b-baby, where—” he babbles through breathy hiccups and whimpers, his body is flushing, seeking your gaze with half-closed eyes, his chest gasping fast.
You kiss his tattoo one more time before answering him, having the nerve to smirk, as if you aren't jumping his bones, “Inside— mhm— fill me up, Dae-ho,” your eyes finally meet his and you squish his biceps, “please,” you beg him, with tears on your eyes.
“Holy shit— you don't have to convince me, love” he growls out hoarsely, and you have never hear him insult so much in such a short span of time. He kiss the corner of your lips messily, “I'm so fucking deep, you take it so well, baby— fuck.”
He chokes on his own voice and squeezes your hips until his palms are molded into your flesh. His tip touches that special squishy spot inside you again and you're cumming with him, both of you riding your own high, sinking into each other's bodies, souls becoming one. Straight into the core of the storm of pleasure.
His trembling fingers eventually loosen his grip on your ass, but his imprint stays right there, flushed. His cock softens deep inside you and you can feel it still spurting hot ropes up into your womb. Dae-ho whimpers flush against your mouth, gasping for breath. And you know you might as well die right there, tangled with his body.
Your head is empty, blurry with him and only him, your hips keep rolling on their own motion, slower. Your pussy squelches, full of him, the friction only makes him chant your name over and over in raspy whispers, like a hymn. Your orgasm is rough and strong, rocking your body like an earthquake. It makes you moan his name and he cuts you off, kissing you senselessly.
“Thank you, thank you...” he mumbles repeatedly against your mouth, hissing once you stop all movement on top of him. And he kisses you again, appreciatively, lovingly.
Dae-ho throws his head back on the bunk, trying to catch his breath, his hands drop to your thighs, always with a possessive hold, groping around for your ass, pressed down on his trembling thighs.
And it's ridiculous how absolutely majestic he looks there under you, in an afterglow that has him breathless, eyes narrowed and lost stare, gazing upwards as if he's suspended in paradise. His entire abdomen is sweaty and you hold back the urge to run your tongue across his cute little tummy, since your body is slowly beginning to give in to exhaustion, your legs wobbling.
You are satisfied with tracing your fingers along his sweaty skin, touching what were strong muscles, now softened under your thumbprints. Your hand makes an appreciative path up his pecs and he comes back to reality with the touch, looking up at you and patting your ass lightly, his gaze softening as he met your eyes amidst the darkness. The look of love.
“Don't do that, I'm about to get hard again,” he murmurs in a playful voice, a little sheepish smile growing on his lips. He is blushing, like he's not balls deep inside you, his cum leaking out of your cunt and trickling down your thighs.
You let out a sleepy chuckle, leaning down and snuggling close into his chest, his arms wrap around your shoulders and he tugs a blanket over the two of you.
“I had to take you on a date first,” Dae-ho blurts out suddenly, sounding more like he's talking to himself than to you, but you do manage to hear him, yet not really understanding what he's trying to say.
“What?” you ask curiously, still a little dizzy, fingers tracing light caresses on his chest, right where his heart is.
He clears his voice, bowing his chin so he can look down at you, gaze full pure love and adoration, his fingertips soothingly caressing your spine as he answers you in a hushed whisper, “I was supposed to take you on a date before.... all of this.”
You smile bashfully against his chest, looking up at him with big, soft eyes, “Well, we're not exactly in a position where having a date is doable, Dae-ho.”
But he is confident on the subject, fingers drawing little circles on the small of your back, “After we get out of this, I'll pick you up at your house and take you to the fanciest restaurant.”
You kiss him tenderly. 
And he smiles like he's actually in love.
“I'll be waiting for you in my best dress, then.”
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cutehoons02 · 27 days ago
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Forced roomates or forced to be lovers?
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University series: Jungwon Jake
*pairing: popular pervy gamer Heeseung x popular cheerleader
*trope: forced roomates/opposites attract
*synopsis: Heeseung, a slightly introverted nerd but popular in the world of video games and in his computer course, with a passion for video games, and Y/n, the most popular cheerleader on campus, they find themselves sharing the apartment due to a mistake in the allocation of rooms. They could not be more different: he loves to spend sleepless nights in front of the monitor with always in hand a bowl of ramen, immersed in role-playing games, while she lives between exhausting training cheerleaders, evenings at the various parties of the football team and stories on Instagram. Initially the two barely bear each other, but a series of funny and intimate events will lead them to discover that, perhaps, they complement each other.
*tags: A lot of humor, tension, fluff, spicy, pervy Heeseung, a little pervy reader, Unprotected sex (don’t horny ppl) pet names (Barbie, Baby, Good girl), pet names (Nerd, Loser), jealousy, teasing, possession, references to video games, cowgirl, +14, sweet moments at the end.
8.4k words
It’s the first time i write explicit scenes so i hope you like (🎮)
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Heeseung’s room at that precise moment was full of mathematical forms and calculation sheets and various drawings of characters he invented, you could hear only the noise of the joystick and the various clilc he made in the mouse, with his excellent score in all subjects in the computer course and being one of the best video game players in the state, Hee had the chance to register for an online tournament for only nerds and professional gamers lasting a few months and the first 3 who had unlocked the level "Queen" they would have received a reward from one of the largest video game production companies and only 3 people would have had the chance with funding from the university and this video game production company to create their own virtual game, but he would not have imagined that his life at that exact moment could change with the entry into play of a noisy Cheerleader, who spent hours in their shared bathroom to make masks or to prepare to go out and tease him from morning to night.
He heard loud punches at the door of his apartment and when he took off his headphones he thought that those punches meant only one thing, His friends Jake and Jay had finished football practice and had come to disturb him or eat a cup of ramen together but when he opened the door he choked on his own because he found himself in front of a girl in a mini denim skirt and tight t-shirt with I ♡ HOT BOYS, Blonde as a ray of sunshine with a bright smile and a scent that left a sweet trail every time she shook her long tail of hair and with a bag of lacquered leather that had to cost more than her computer and a pink suitcase. It didn’t take a genius to figure out who he was. Y/n, one of the strongest cheerleaders on campus and perhaps all other universities, a marketing student and undisputed queen of the campus. She organized the best parties and seemed to always have the answer ready for any situation.
"Hey, i know you’re a nerd and you don’t deal with girls but are you listening to me instead of looking at me like i’m an alien?" Heeseung fixed Y/n’s shirt and felt the cheeks slightly redden when he read the entire I ♡ HOT BOYS writing and looked at how well it wrapped the shirt slightly tight in the breast of the girl in front of him.
"You’re kidding me, right? What if you are one of those perverts who come to the instant only at the sight of a girl in a slightly tapered T-shirt and a skirt? Did you hear what I just said a few seconds ago?"
Finally Y/n heard the voice of Heeseung «I don’t even know what you’re talking about Barbie, i think you’ve got the wrong apartment» replied Hee with an indifferent tone, returning to his room to continue his game of League of Legends. His online teammates were already complaining about his afk.
“Barbie? Are you serious?" Y/n entered his apartment and like a puppy followed the nerd and went into his room and stared at him with a mixture of contempt and disbelief.
"The lease says this is also my apartment and you will be my roommate for next year, Lee Heeseung."
Heeseung froze when he heard that sentence. He paused the game, ignoring the barrage of insults he was receiving in the game’s chat, and turned to her. «Wait. What would your apartment be like? This is my room for...now a year and in the option, i always put that i did not want roommates and then the other room sometimes I need!»
"Well, now that room will be mine. My parents bought the whole student building and the only apartment where there was only one person was yours. Congratulations, nerd. You’ve got the roommate of your nightmares or maybe your most perverse dreams" You whispered these last words near his ear and then you went to get your pink suitcase and to disturb your roommate I played one of the songs that you were supposed to dance on the football field for the beginning of the new season and sang until your room was slightly "Decent" and clean to your standards.
It was two weeks since the beginning of the partnership and you couldn’t stand Heeseung, he was a serious pain in your neck, You didn’t understand how he had so many followers in his profile and so many girls who commented on his life or who added edit about him while playing. Some girls stopped you to ask if he was engaged or if you had taken part in watching him in one of the many tournaments he did. You really hated that nerd especially when you found empty bowls of ramen around the apartment, colored electric cables scattered around the sofa, and Joysticks of shapes and sizes of verse scattered as well in the laundry but the thing you hated most was that he played until late at night and started laughing with his virtual friends at those stupid games or tournaments you always heard about.
The hatred was mutual also on the part of Heeseung, the cheerleader with whom he shared the apartment had monopolized the bathroom they had in common hair dryers, plates with strange shapes, tricks that cost more than the food she ate, glitter, and also bought a kind of mini refrigerator to put his masks or creams for skin care. Heeseung didn’t understand how everyone was following him or how he had so many friends or guys to go out with but the thing that he couldn’t stand about you was being perfect with everyone from the professors, To your friends, family and how you thought you were always the center of attention.
That late afternoon you and Heeseung were both in the apartment, trying to study business but as always when there was Heeseung at home there was never silence. You snorted and went into Heeseung’s room and watched him sitting in the gamer’s station with his hair slightly ruffled around the professional headphones, he had a slight grin but the thing that struck you most were his hands.
God since when did that boy have such attractive hands? They were large, slightly veiny, and wore a silver and black ring that sometimes tortured them for anxiety or maybe to wait for the next level, you recovered from that state and went near the desk.
Heeseung had noticed you but he didn’t want to give you the satisfaction of being in the center of attention and kept on wielding his joystick even though he was about to start a game. “Can you turn that down? I’m studying." Heeseung watched you speak, a slight puff came out of his lips as he took off his headphones and wore them around his neck. «What do you want, Barbie?»
"I said if you can please turn down that volume, I’m trying to study."
«And you can stop occupying the bathroom for three hours or sprinkling blue and gold glitter in the bathroom? The other day while I was training, i found a flurry of glitter in my gym shirt, and some thought i joined your flying spinner team!» He answered, not taking his eyes off the monitor while dodging a zombie.
Heeseung looked at you with those little deer eyes put his headphones back on and kept talking to his friends as if you’d never even entered his room until he saw you go under his table for a second and sit between his muscular legs, when you sat down you sunned yourself to look at him and observed the small ones that filled his face. Hee stood still for a moment, caught unawares, but he recovered immediately.
«What are you doing? Do you want to sabotage me? You can’t go to one of the many little friends» he asked with a somewhat grumpy tone. You wanted to take him by surprise and see how long it lasted not to give your attention
"I’m just checking your level of concentration. Don’t tell me I’m the first girl to sit over your legs or do this. You know, as an experienced cheerleader, I enjoy distracting nerds like you." Y/n moved slightly above Heeseung’s legs and watched him straighten his hair perhaps out of frustration or embarrassment.
Heeseung laughed slowly, trying not to show her that she was slightly in awe of the blonde sitting almost above her length.
«You know, I knew that I was a temptress and that I had no fear of anything Y/n but spoiler does not scare me either because I’m used to going into video games of wars, zombies, demons, etc» Y/n started laughing and looked at Heeseung
"How do you know those animated things are scary? Let me see I’m curious, nerd."
Heeseung pressed a button and an unsettling scene appeared on the screen: a dark corridor, distant moans, and a shadow creeping slowly into the bloodshot view with eyes out of its sockets. Y/n barely jerked, unintentionally clinging to Hee’s shirt.
"What the hell was that monster?" she exclaimed, opening her eyes wide as a zombie made a chilling sound and hurled itself toward the screen. Hee burst out laughing, holding the controller with ease. Oh, I thought cheerleaders were not afraid of anything. What happened to your courage?» Heeseung looked at you carefully and thought you were not as bad as his mind had painted you but he would never tell you
Y/n turned around, pretending to be upset. "I’m not afraid! It’s just... I didn’t expect it."
«Yes, Barbie. You were shaking like a cat in the rain.»
"I don’t tremble! and I’m not a coward, if I was afraid I would not be thrown by human beings for air as work," said Y/n, straining his shoulders in a theatrical move. " If you want, I’ll take the controller and I’ll kill that thing."
«Oh, yes? please, come in. Let’s see the cheerleader against the zombie. And it has nothing to do with people blowing you up Barbie, if you’re not used to a little horror you’ll always be afraid» You felt Heeseung whispering these things to you and where was the nerd from before who was in awe with you sitting between his legs?
Y/n took the controller with determined action and started playing. Hee looked at her with a restrained smile as she moved nervously through the virtual corridor. «Why are you moving like that? No need, your character does not follow you! If you’re doing it to get my attention all on yourself Barbie did it, so stop moving between my legs and rub against my length because you will never win the level» You hated how that nerd made you feel. The tension increased with each step and suddenly a zombie broke down a side door with a scream. Y/n shouted and almost threw the controller.
"YOU NERDS ARE CRAZY. THIS IS A GAME FOR PSYCHOPATHS!"
Heeseung laughed so hard he couldn’t breathe. «You’re incredible! You screamed louder than the zombie! Oh my god, it would have been iconic if it had been live streaming» Y/n stood up how angry but at the same time scared, and ran into his room until he heard Heeseung yell «I have all the cards in hand too win this game between me and you, not play with fire that sooner or later you will burn. Sweet dreams, Barbie» hit your face with your hairy pillow and Lee Heeseung in all the languages of the world.
It was almost a week after that little clash with Heeseung and for two whole nights, you had not slept properly for your standard because you always had in mind those horrible images of zombies with eyes out of the orbites.
«You are a little tired and less energetic Y/n, is everything all right?» Chan asked one of your group’s dancers and one of the few athletes you trusted to get you thrown in the air
"Yes, it’s all right I’m just a little tired of the exams and the selections we would have in the middle of the year. I would like to try to run as captain for the new year and that’s why I’m creating a choreography to run" Chan arranged the sheet you had on your head and smiled at you
«Please do not ask too much of yourself Y/n, The genta thinks this sport is nonsense but I would not want to see you again bandaged and in the hospital while crying because you could not move your leg or because your mind had made you think that you were not perfect for this sport and skipped meals or hours of sleep»
"It won’t happen again Chan, now I go home and make a good hot ramen and a nice hot shower to get all this sweat away and sleep until tomorrow morning at 10" Chan smiled at you and brought the bag until you were under your apartment
«Take care of yourself Y/n, and if you do not ask your roommate to prepare a nice basin of hot water for your feet and make ramen, Every time I get videos of Heeseung on Twitch or Tik Tok always has a bowl of ramen" the smiles and when you came in you raised your eyes, God because everyone saw Heeseung as the perfect boy and not as a loser who spent hours and hours playing those stupid games.
When you entered the apartment scientists immediately it was cold enough for your taste and on the sofa there was Heeseung who was watching a TV series to your great surprise he wasn’t playing any of those games and this thing made you alarmed because he always spent the evening At least 3 hours to laugh with his friends. Perhaps he had understood that you needed a good evening without hearing him giggle or hear from his headphones moans of zombies just killed or guns.
"Why aren’t you playing? Don’t tell me that all your friends have you pulled little and you have no one here to shoot or play" Heeseung raised his eyes and continued to eat and pay attention to the TV series he had put on the TV.
"Hey nerd, you listening? why is it so cold in here I’m going to ask you again why you’re not in your room?" Heeseung suddenly stood up and stood in front of you, you hadn’t looked at how he was dressed and had two sweatshirts and some sweatpants that he never wore inside the apartment because it usually made more than 20 degrees but now it must have been just over 10 degrees.
«The heating system of the whole building is out of use for a couple of hours and before the day after tomorrow will not be adjusted Barbie, for that you see me dressed so stuffed. You’ll have to take a cold shower today or you could call some of your friends and get them to host you» You jumped onto the sofa and made yourself slightly tiny in Heeseung’s eyes
"today is a day to forget in the sense of the word, I did not pass an exam and at Cheerliding I made mistakes I do not know how many steps I would just like to take a nice hot shower, eat some good ramen and put myself to bed warm" Heeseung looked at you and I made him a little pity where the girl had gone always exuberant, cheerful and that played music to the ball and that danced for everything?
«Relax for the ramen I can think of it, I am a master in doing so and if you want I can heat water and put it in baccinelle. I know it won’t be as relaxing as taking a shower with a full hot water shower but at least you can wash yourself and get rid of the sweat from your training»
Heeseung a little amazed and speechless, I did so with my head and you watched Heeseung prepare the ramen for you and even put an egg to you to be seasoned more.
«Here is the ramen, I hope you like it you would have made it with more ingredients but it’s been 2 days that I did not go to the grocery. Now.. Yes, I’ll make you some hot water and bring it to the bathroom. Come and see me when you’re done and leave the dish that I washed» You were seriously surprised by this version of Heeseung, is it not that maybe he suffered from some kind of bipolar disorder? Or was this the real Heeseung that everyone loved?
When you finished eating you went to the bathroom and prepared 4 basins of boiling water in the sink you had also put on a plush over-stuffed sweatshirt and a small smile formed, what is happening to Heeseung because he was so good today with you?
The shower with the basins had not you relaxed at all but at least you were washed and no longer had that smell of sweat, when you left Heeseung was no longer on the sofa, you wanted to thank him for both food and hot water and then knocked on his door.
"Heeseung" From the inside, you heard the familiar sound of the keyboard and a few nervous clicks of the mouse. And you heard his answer distractedly because he was concentrating on some computer calculations
«Yes? What is it?»
You entered without waiting for an invitation and crossed your arms for the cold. God, why is it so cold in this house? You wanted to ask Heeseung to share the bed so you could at least stay close and get a little warm but we are always talking about Heeseung the guy who loved to tease you and make you go crazy. Heeseung looked up, noticing his oversized t-shirt and his sweatshirt on the girl in front of him, he would never admit it but you with his clothes made him feel things that he should not think about you, He always wanted to see you with his things and a side of possessiveness intruded into his body. The sight of you made him swallow noisily, but he strove to keep a neutral expression.
"I wanted to thank you for the food and the hot water... I thought maybe we could share the bed. Just to keep warm. Just for this evening, I called my parents and they told me that tomorrow morning the technician will come. In my room it freezes so I thought to ask you" You had a fake smile shy, you wanted to absolutely embarrass him as he did while playing together with those stupid horror games
Heeseung opened his eyes wide and his mouse slipped out of his hand. God wanted to put him in awe
«what?! I don’t trust you at all Y/n, I know that after making you scared with that game you want to crash me» You raised your eyes to the sky, as if it were the most normal thing in the world, man this guy had understood you immediately but you kept insisting
"Oh, relax. It’s not an indecent proposal. Except that I would never do anything with you, you’re not my type Heeseung. It’s pure survival. We’ll freeze both or keep company and sleep together and warm up a little"
Hee rubbed her neck, embarrassed. He has no idea how to respond. Share the bed with Y/n, the most popular girl she knows. He’s never even been this close to a cheerleader... and now he has to share a bed but the thing that pissed him off was that phrase that said he wasn’t his type at all. Who wanted Y/n in his life? a stupid boy who made him feel nothing or he who always teased her and had seen how she reacted when she sat between her legs that was a little embarrassed also.
Heeseung moved nervously to make room on the bed, trying not to think too much about it as she tucked herself under the duvet with disarmingly natural ease. Y/n sat down next to him and made his feet touch his legs against his
"You’re made of wood, you know? Don’t tell me it’s the first time you've slept or that you’re in bed with a girl, nerd" you joked with Hee to embarrass him a little
«Sorry, I don’t share my bed every day with some girl»
"Really? You wouldn’t know it, you can even admit that you’ve never slept with someone you know" he slowly grinds, moving closer.
Heeseung was definitely tired from the constant grip of the cheerleader so he took off his sweatshirt because he was definitely dying from the heat in that situation and he lay down in bed and spread his legs a little because he did not want to feel Y/n’s legs intertwined with his. Y/n had leaned with an arm and was absorbing it and without thinking embraced the piece of wood next to her and a scent of citrus and spices invaded his nose, Heeseung seriously had a slender body but at the same time toned and felt from the shirt that he had strong abs, not bad for a nerd!
«Y/n, what did you take me for? for your giant teddy bear that you have in your room?» You laughed because even if you could not stand it sometimes it was nice to be in his company.
"Mmm, no my teddy is definitely sweeter and nicer than you, nerd. I’m hugging you because I’m cold and your temperature is too hot to not have the heat on" Heeseung ran his hands through his hair and turned off the lights, for a couple of minutes he no longer heard Y/n speak, and thought she had fallen asleep but before talking about the devil they sprang horns, felt the cold fingers of Y/n go under the shirt and roll them up their bare abs, He felt little shivers all over his body and cursed the heating not working.
«Y/n, stop it I know what game you are playing with me, I will not fall into your trap» you started to laugh even if he had turned off the light could imagine that he had slightly red cheeks and definitely had that super cute grumpy. You also put your other hand on its narrow waist and tried to go a little lower but a strong hand stopped you and now you had your arm over your head and Heeseung slightly above you holding himself with one arm.
«I repeat it again Y/n, I have all the cards in hand to pottery beat, if you are in need of attention go to your friend's football players, or swimmers with whom you do evening but not with me because otherwise, I could ruin you in an instant» You snorted and shoved Heeseung into the other side of the bed and you sunned yourself with your shoulders turned to him. "Sooner or later you will lose Heeseung, and I know for certain that it will be me who will make you lose your head" A small smile formed on your lips before you fell asleep.
Heeseung woke up a little later that morning, you were out of bed, you had gone to study somewhere or to work out. When he went into the bathroom and looked back he started to ride but I swore in all the languages of the world because you had left him a red lipstick stain with your lips engraved on his cheek and the more he tried to send away that joke, the harder it was to remove.
That Saturday went all wrong, the university football team had lost badly and even the show you had prepared to make the majors identify you as suitable to take the place of captain was a mess. Some freshmen had it all wrong and you were seriously pissed off and wanted to just smash yourself in ice cream and finally spend hours under the jet of boiling water they had repaired.
When you came in, you slammed the door of the apartment, with a face tense from anger. You dropped your bag on the floor with a thud. It had been a nightmare day. During the show before the match, a couple of girls continued to make you miss all the shots, and the coach took it with you in front of everyone because if you wanted to become the captain you had to be perfect and able to support also freshman line.
You were about to head for your room when you heard laughter coming from the living room. Heeseung’s familiar voice is clearly distinguished, and also that of Sunghoon one of his closest friends who was skating, and there was also another athlete Jungwon but along with them, there was also a girl. Y/n stood on the threshold, crossing his arms.
On the two chairs, there were Hoon and Jungwon, instead Heeseung was sitting with legs apart, bent forward to look at the screen and see how he smiled or squinted at Heeseung. She was way too close. She had Sunghoon in the same room who was one of the most beautiful guys I’d ever seen, but no she was attached to Hee.
"Well, look at that, our gamer has found someone who gives him a go," you commented in a deliberately sharp tone.
All turned to her. Heeseung seemed surprised, but he recovered immediately and saw that it was past 10 in the evening so the game had ended a long time ago. «Hey, Barbie. Difficult day? don’t tell me that the football team lost» he asked, with a smirk, and raised your eyes to the sky.
"Oh, don’t worry about me. It seems like you’re having enough fun already."
The girl next to Hee laughed, and for some reason, that sound irritated you more than it should have. <<If you want I can leave my place Y/n>> says Jungwon with a genuine smile, man how much gold would have paid to have as a roommate a person like Jungwon always nice and sociable with everyone that loser from Heeseung?
"No, no, quiet Jungwon I’m going to take a nice hot shower and some healthy skincare for my skin. I already greeted you all because I don’t know when I’ll get out of that bathroom" You went to the bathroom and felt the look of Heeseung in your body covered only by a shabby skirt and a light sweatshirt but you scrolled away all the slacks with a nice warm bath.
After almost two hours you left the bathroom in your pajamas and at the door, Heeseung’s friends were getting ready to go home, you were preparing a calming herbal tea but you watched the first girl named Luna greet Heeseung with a hug and then with a shy kiss on the cheek. That scene made you even more angry against the world, from what point did you get annoyed by girls around that nerd?
"Really, Heeseung? Bring people here without telling me? And then that girl... who the hell was she? We agreed that when I had a show when I came home I wanted to be at peace"
Heeseung stood in the middle of the living room, an eyebrow raised but with a funny look
«Does it bother you that I had friends here? What should I say when you take your best friends to make your beautiful pajamas that scream or speak of everyone or is it only Luna who has bothered you because you have always made enough friends with all my friends?» You looked at the nerd in front of you and crossed your arms.
"Don’t be smart. I hate that you don’t even have the decency to tell me when you bring people. Aren’t we roommates?"
Hee barely smiled, a smile that seemed to know long.
«You and I are roommates, so why do you seem so... jealous and upset by the presence of Luna?» You looked at him furiously, approaching a few steps.
"Me? Jealous? Of you? Don’t make me laugh, you know you’re not my type."
«Then why are you so agitated?» he replied, standing up to approach you. Heeseung not only looked beautiful but also his height was perfect, you always liked tall guys and he with his 1.83 compared to your 1.65 was overtaking you. You felt the tension grow between you two. you approached again and pushed it slightly with a hand on your chest.
"Maybe because I can’t stand when you’re bragging about your "friends," I saw how comfortable you were and how you flirted with her. You pretend to be the "good guy" of the situation but we all know that underneath you love seeing girls lost for you"
Heeseung looked at you for a few seconds, then shook his head with an incredulous grin.
«You know what? You’re unbearable when you do that, what is it you want to always be the center of attention barbie? the world does not only revolve around you»
"Oh, stop it, you’re so annoying from the first day that I set foot in here with your little smirk cheeky" you answered with your face now a few inches from his.
Heeseung was definitely tired of your spoiled behavior and even as a child he did the last thing he expected to do but he wanted so much to silence you and put you in your place. You felt yourself by the wrists and Heeseung gently slammed you against the island of the small kitchen.
«Stop» he said in a rock and still voice. You looked at him wide-eyed, ready to reply, but the words stuck in your throat when he leaned over and kissed you. The kiss is initially decided, almost to silence you, but then it becomes sweeter as if he was also surprised by his own boldness. You were slightly still for a moment then you relaxed and carried your arms around his neck and brought him closer to you. You felt his big hands under your ass and in a few moments he made you lean on the kitchen island and began to kiss you again or not devour you «Fuck, the only way to make you shut up is this Barbie? , if I knew it before I would have made you quiet in other ways, Y/n» You absolutely wanted to reply but when it detached from your lips he plunged to give light kisses around the clavicle until reaching your neck, a little moan came out of your lips when it began to torture you a small section of your neck under the ear, you felt that it was licking and then biting. Your coach would kill you if she saw some suckers but at that moment you were too much at the mercy of Heeseung and what he made you try; "Hee, stop torturing me I can’t be seen with a" You did not stop talking that you sucked strongly another area of your neck and pulled as much as possible his hair.
What you were doing was absolutely nothing normal but you felt too excited to stand between him, you felt Hee come even closer to you and you perceived its hard length in the pants of the suit she wore, You tried to approach him and touch him but he took your arm and brought it back to the shed.
«I don’t give a fuck if your coach tomorrow sees you with some pacifiers and don’t try to touch me, I don’t let the bad girls put their hands on me, and this evening you were a bad girl rather you behaved like a child and spoiled» You felt the big hand of Heeseung to slightly bloom your pants and felt your panties slightly wet and Heeseung had an expression that you had never seen perhaps victory? His hands made little circles over your pajamas but never took them off because in his eyes you were definitely a bad girl that night without thinking touched your pussy and stimulated you until you felt that from there you would come like a loser with both pants and panties around, You leaned on him and when you felt that you were coming to the climax but he detached and looked at you with all red cheeks.
"It can’t be, you’re really an asshole Heeseung" Heeseung looked at you with a grin and whispered to you «We are already 2-0 for me Barbie, when will you start to understand that with me you’ll burn yourself?» You watched him drink a glass of water and then go to his room as if he had not almost made you come in your underwear and as if you did not exist.
It was a week after those kisses, either Y/n tried in any way to avoid Heeseung and the thing was mutual with him as well. His best friends Jay and Jake had invited him to the last half-season game and with him were Hoon, and Jungwon, But he did not realize that before the game there was the show of the Cheerleaders and in front of his eyes there was Y/ n who was warming with other dancers both male and female. He watched her carefully trying to do a handless somersault and after a few seconds Chan one of the best and most famous dancers on the entire campus took her by the hips and made her lightly jump off the ground and put it over his shoulder, He knew that Y/n was good because she spent hours and hours training but did not think that she had so much charisma and ease to make such a lot of acrobatic. Heeseung looked away from the beautiful cheerleader for a moment and saw Sunoo take it back and give him a hint with his thumb.
"Why are you filming Y/n?" Sunoo looked at the oldest boy in the group with a smile and continued recording
<<I’m making some content for her team’s tik tok and Instagram profile, she asked me the day before yesterday when I saw her in the library>> Heeseung looked at Y/n smiled at Chan, and hugged him slightly, Why did you ask Sunoo to be your little filmmaker and not him who lived on technology? And then why did he embrace Chan so often, relationships between athletes were forbidden but a sense of jealousy took hold in Heeseung, and watched from the edge Y/n field that he was fixing his makeup.
Y/n for her knew that Heeseung was watching her since she had left the locker room but she would not give him his attention for anything in the world because he was seriously an asshole.
<<Your favorite nerd can not take his eyes off you for 20 minutes and is throwing me some hateful looks as if he tried to kill me with an axe or a virtual gun>> You wake up to the joke of Chan and you squatted to pretend to lace your shoes and sunflowers Heeseung’s head and eyes were watching you and you saw him turn all red when you caught him looking at your ass even though it was barely covered by a short skirt the smiles and I made the mark of 2 with my hands because he was still ahead between you two but in added a 1 because even if he did not want to admit it would also sacrifice a game of those stupid tournaments to have you and to make you his, He winked and was petrified to watch you enter the locker room to give the charge to everyone and to start the show before the half-year game.
The game ended in a beautiful victory and you came home to take a quick shower, put on makeup, and dress up for the winter party. When you entered the house there was nobody and it seemed so boring and at the same calm, there were no screams of Heeseung, the laughter of his friends, There were no sounds of gunshots or moans of evil characters and this thing made you a little bit sorry you didn’t want to admit it but by now you were used to all that mess and see the apartment empty and without the blue lights of the computer or smart tv, you put a little sadness. When you left the bathroom you felt a delicious smell coming from the kitchen and at that moment you did not think that Heeseung could return so soon, You went to the kitchen, and Heeseung when he saw you dressed as you were, looked at you with a furious look but at the same time, he saw that it was hard to take your eyes off of how he wrapped your short skirt, a light crop top sweater and on your feet you had black loafers with ankle warmers.
«Where do you think you are going dressed like that? you studied all this morning and this afternoon you trained and not even two hours ago you blew up I don’t know how many times, It’s not better to ask for a break from your body and stay at home» watch Heeseung from the mirror you had at the entrance of the apartment with a grin and sprayed a little perfume and set up your cheerleader bow in your straight hair
"Wow, someone’s in a bad mood didn’t you like the show or the game? I’m going to a party. You know, those social things that normal people do for fun, to drink, to chat, or maybe to be in the company of a nice guy or girl!" You squinted at Heeseung and he had his arms crossed to his chest and wouldn’t stop staring at you «I know what Barbie parties are, just don’t understand why you have to dress like..» you approached him and looked at him with a smile, maybe for the first time in your life you had the knife’s handle on your side the nerd in front of you was seriously jealous.
"How what? A girl who knows she’s irresistible and wants to go out and have fun with her friends? How should I dress to go to a party, certainly not with a pair of sweatpants or a sweatshirt" Heeseung looked at you attentively and saw him blush as you pressed your breasts to her strong chest and flushed from that little touch with your body.
"Relax, nerd. I can handle the compliments myself. You don’t need to worry." You took your Chanel bag and went to the door and looked at Heeseung leaning against the wall with that adorable little grumpy and his deer eyes that didn’t leave a moment. " Don’t expect me awake. I might be late or not even come home."
Heeseung when he saw you leaving the house and leaving a sweet scent whispered «Oh, I will wait for you Barbie.»
When you came back to the apartment it was around one and a half at night, I took off my boots and sighing for fatigue went to your room but before entering I saw Heeseung sitting on the bed wiping his hair wet with a cloth, He had just come out of the shower because there was that citrus scent coming out of the bathroom and you raised a eyebrow curious to see him still awake, if you had made it clear to him that he could go to sleep.
"Why are you still awake? Didn’t I tell you not to wait for me? Don’t tell me you were worried about me and that you wanted to see me safely back home without anyone."
«I admit it I was just worried and wanted to see how you yourself said that you would come home with your legs»
"How sweet. I didn’t know you were so protective." You put your bag on the desk and sat down on the edge of the bed watching Heeseung while he rubbed his hair and stared at you with sneaky eyes Your legs were almost completely uncovered and how he showed you the curves especially your breasts that sweater shrunk
«It’s not protectiveness. It’s frustration. I can’t understand why you enjoy teasing everyone... including me. What do you want Y/n?» a small smile came out of your lips and to Heeseung’s surprise you put on horseshoes in his toned legs and carefully dried the hair half gone for how many times he had passed the cloth to dry them while waiting for you
"Am I the one who provokes? One week ago you almost made me come in my pants and then you left like a loser without completing the work." Heeseung tried to put his hands on your hips but you took his big hands and placed them over his chest, "Don’t dare touch me until I tell you, the last time I was acting jealous or maybe like a child but this night you were the loser of the situation that in order not to admit that you wanted me you left me to go to a mega boring party"
You helped Heeseung to take off her shirt and a little whistle came out of your lips "How can you have such a physique and not show it off?" You began to slowly rock over its width felt it under you become harder and harder and you started kissing its neck until you reached below the navel. Heeseung had dreamed of this moment from the first time he saw you enter his apartment, he would never admit it but masturbated even thinking of you and was seriously afraid to come if you would continue to swing with that miniskirt that now let you all the thighs uncovered and saw your black panties in lace.
«I need to hear you somehow or show you that I’m not a loser as you think Y/n, please let me make you feel good and let me finish what I had started; I hate to pause the gaming games the same thing goes for you Barbie» Heeseung with reddish cheeks and eyes half-shiny desire and gently laid you down in his place and bent down to make you feel good, you made the sign to take off your skirt but he did no head and a grin formed in his face «I want to make you come with this skirt of a bad girl and then you will take my dick» you were seriously shocked by Heeseung’s words that you wanted to tease him again but your voice stopped when you felt the fingers slipping into your still-dressed slot and Heeseung’s slightly wet hair buried under your skirt, You jumped at him as you felt his middle finger and ring slide down your pussy while with the other hand, he suddenly took off your panties in a provocative way. He looked at your panties for a moment and then dived back under your skirt and you felt her finger on your palm clit with her thumb. You crave the feeling, of holding tight to his arms, the longer he pleased your clitoris, the sooner you would lose control of yourself and that was what Heeseung wanted, to see you lost to him. And in the end, you were just giving in to what your body wanted: rubbing against that annoying nerd’s hand, you felt his fingers get inside of you for good, and little moans came out of your mouth.
«Fuck love to hear your moans, and groans for me Y/n, make everyone feel who is fucking you and who is ruining only with two fingers inside of you, I can not wait to see you ride my dick and be able to have you finally mine»
You pulled Hee’s hair and small moans came out of your mouth as fast as her fingers went inside you at that moment.
"Hee, I need" fuck was nice to be filled by his long fingers. You felt his fingers curl inside, and you closed your mouth with your hand, afraid to wake up anyone who was sleeping. Annoyed, Heeseung pulled his hand away from you and admired you as you had your mouth open, hair in his bed, and were standing up for him and not one of those stupid athletes who came after you.
«Come for me baby, don’t be shy» felt that you taunted your clitoris again and came moaning again the name of Heeseung, The nerd under your skirt slowly tasted the mess that had caused you and tasted your shiny white cum that polished your pussy. When he got up he looked at you and leaned to give you a little kiss on the forehead «Good girl», after a while you got your arms around Heeseung’s neck and kissed him with a hunger for him and pushed him back into bed and rode over him to his cock.
"I need you Heeseung" The guy in front of you interrupted the kisses you were giving and looked at you with a shy and sincere smile, «Fuck tell me that I’m not dreaming Y/n, it’s months that I want you close around me, for me this is not a game Y/n» You smiled at Heeseung and took off the light sweater you had and the boy in front of you cheeks turned red and took off your breast-holder with nonchalance and immediately took a bud from your breast and with the other hand held you and tickled the other breast.
"Not for me either Hee this is a game, I want it" A little moan came out of you when he sucked slightly your nipple and a little spit went down your left breast repeated this thing also with the other. You really needed him so you lowered his pants and at the same time boxer shorts and saw his cock semi-erect, caressed him slowly but after a while you started to pump him slightly, It was beautiful to see him swearing under the sensation of your warm hand, slowly pumping it and observing the way his tip leaked copiously liquid.
«I thought of you I don’t know how many times in these months in this exact position...» mumbles, slightly shivering, «please Y/n, I need you» A little laugh came out from your lips, you had never seen Heeseung in this state and it was only thanks to you.
"You know we’re tied right now Heeseung, you seem so desperate for me right now. If you want fuck me”. he sent you a charming smile before pulling down your hips with that slutty skirt still on you; he wheezes sweetly at the feeling of your pussy flying around her tip, already able to feel your exhaling excitement before you finally slowly sink over him.
"Fuck, oh shit Hee" You were seriously ecstatic by the length of Heeseung inside you, and slowly you moved to let it in and out so that your bodies lined up and went at a rhythm.
«God you are so tight» You felt his big hands under your ass and brought you even closer to him and you put your hands over his back to ride it harder. «Who is fucking you so well, Barbie?» You felt again his thumb rub your wet pussy as you took his cock up on the ground and hit exactly your G-spot to make you moan his name. " You, Hee, only you Heeseung"
Heeseung began to leave open-mouthed kisses along the column of your throat, climbing up, climbing up until finally reaching your ear, leaving a kiss behind it before whispering: «You are mine and from this moment I will not share you with anyone»
By the time he pushed back in you could already feel the tears ticking your eyes: you’re loud and cheeky in your sounds as he starts hammering you again because he knows it’s coming soon and he wanted to feel your body again, you felt your back curl from the way Hee’s hand started to rub your clitoris again, you could only groan softly for feeling, Allowing him to play with you as if you were his own game or even worse his favorite toy.
"Hee, I’m close."
«Come for me Barbie, I want to feel and see you with my sperm in all your beautiful pussy that right now is taking my cock»
Finally allows herself to come inside you, you can hear Hee sibilate softly for the sensation, triggering her orgasm while you whimper for all the sensations you had experienced thanks to that loser of your roommate. You’re hot and full to the point that it’s already started to leak out, and Heeseung swears he’s never seen a better show, and you’re burying your head in the hollow of your neck.
You felt Hee give you a little kiss on the head and then on the forehead and put you lying in her bed and after a few seconds of silence she went to get you some warm clothes and cleaned you from her cum and put you her clean boxers and her crumpled nerd t-shirt and brought you to my bride in your bed, Your cheeks were seriously all red and maybe you were also agitated because now things would go with him?
When he put you under the covers you saw him lay an arm around your waist and look at you smiling softly move a rebellious tuft from your face around your ear give you a light kiss on the cheek and lay down with his head leaning close to your neck and crossed your legs. You were seriously surprised by his attitude but maybe underneath he also felt emotions like a classic twenty-year-old boy and you embraced him a little timidly because you had never seen this act of Heeseung.
«We are 3-2» You started again with your joke but in your head, you were 2-2.
"What did I do this time to get you back in the game? It seems we are still 2-2" You felt his nose close to your neck and started laughing, he did not want to admit but for him that three were you. He would be able to skip a session of video game tournaments to make you happy and maybe he was falling in love with you but he would never admit it if you didn’t do it first, because the weak point of the situation was him not you.
Comments are appreciated:)🎮
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plutotheplum · 5 months ago
Text
Felt Good About You
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akaashi keiji x fem!reader
summary: delivering a revised manuscript to your editor turns into something more.
cw: nsfw (18+) - mdni!!, smut, fluff, post-time skip, oral sex, vaginal fingering, praise kink, handjob, p in v
wc: 4.8k
a/n: i'm afraid i have the fattest crush on akaashi
also on ao3!
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“The romance isn’t working.”
You groan when your editor pushes your manuscript for this week’s chapter towards you. You didn’t need any more bumps in the road, not when you were already running behind on deadlines, with the publishing company breathing down your neck to get the next volume out.
“The romance is fine, Akaashi” you mumble, flicking through the pages of the manuscript to skim through his notes.
“If it was fine, I wouldn’t be here,” he replies dryly.
Akaashi was as blunt as ever. Most of the time you appreciated his honesty, he was the reason for such success with your manga after all, but sometimes he managed to get on your nerves.
“It’s an unnecessary subplot,” he continues, flipping through a couple of pages to show you a few of the panels you had drawn, “there’s just no plausible progression between the two, no chemistry.”
You glare at him. He was really starting to get on your nerves. Akaashi rolls his eyes when he sees your glare, reaching out to flick your forehead.
“You’re already behind on the scheduled publishing date,” he reminds you, crossing his arms over his chest, “and I get the short end of the stick because I’m your editor.”
“The higher-ups love you,” you retort.
You stare pointedly at the small stash of awards that were tucked onto a shelf in his office, the small trophies and plaques a clear display of the company’s commendation for his work. 
“Not enough to let me work in the literature department,” he mutters bitterly.
“I’m right here!” you protest, an exasperated expression spreading across your face.
“Yeah, yeah,” Akaashi murmurs. 
He taps your manuscript a few more times before giving you a stern look.
“Get me the revised version by tonight, otherwise you’ll miss out on this week’s issue.”
You curse him under your breath, giving him one final glare as you gather the pages of your manuscript into your hands. You had come into his office thinking he’d been fine with the story, but now you had somehow ended up with more work than before, and an even tighter deadline.
A few hours later, you end up finding yourself outside Akaashi’s apartment. Guilt had won out in the end, and you figured that it wasn’t fair to let him take the blame for your tardiness. Revised manuscript clutched against your chest, you ring his doorbell.
You can feel your throat dry when he opens up the door. His hair is damp, towel slung around the back of his neck. He’s wearing an old volleyball shirt with sweatpants, and you don’t think you’ll ever get used to him looking so domestic. 
Akaashi stares at you blankly, clearly not expecting you. Usually you would’ve just emailed the revised manuscript over to him, not show up outside his door.
“I felt guilty,” you blurt out, cheeks flushing at the awkwardness in the air, “and- and I ordered gyoza so it should be here in a few minutes.”
“Right,” he says after a moment, “you didn’t have to.”
You stare at each other for a moment longer until he sighs, opening the door wider to let you in.
“You’re just as bad as Bokuto,” he informs you.
The mention of the pro-volleyball player makes a smile spread across your face. You had met Akaashi’s volleyball friends a few times when they had enlisted your help in throwing Akaashi a surprise birthday party - which had maybe ended up in a disaster - as well as when you had wound up to a few of their games.
“He’s a sweet guy,” you reply, handing him your manuscript.
Akaashi only hums in response, walking over to his desk. He hangs his towel on the back of his chair before sitting down. You watch as he slips his glasses on, examining the pages of your now edited work.
“I thought you’d try and fight me about the romance,” he murmurs, his pen making a few adjustments here and there. 
“Figured it wasn’t worth it,” you sigh, slumping on the couch in his living room, “you were right, as always.”
He peers over at you, his eyes narrowing as he watches the sulky look on your face. Despite your random bouts of laziness, even Akaashi had to agree that you were a good mangaka whose popularity had built up a loyal reader base. 
“Look,” Akaashi says, setting his pen down, “if you’re that hung up about cutting those scenes, start drafting it now.”
Your gaze shoots up to meet his eyes.
“Seriously?” you ask, eyeing him suspiciously. 
Akaashi was dedicated, sure, but he wasn’t exactly one to take on extra work. Sometimes  you felt as though he would’ve been right at home in the literature department, editing novels instead of volumes of manga. It was like he worked with you out of obligation, not enjoyment, despite the friendship you had built up over the years.
“Yeah,” he says, pushing his glasses up a bit further to sit better on the slope of his nose, “I’m serious.”
You don’t get to dwell any longer on your editor’s change in mind, the sound of the doorbell piercing through your conversation. Akaashi waves you away when you move towards the door, grabbing the delivered containers of gyoza himself. 
He sits down beside you on the couch, handing you one container whilst he takes the other. For some reason, you’re feeling more on edge than usual. The brush of his arm against yours has heat rising to your cheeks, body growing taut with the way your stomach is swirling with nervousness.
It was no secret that Akaashi was one of the most handsome men in the office, and you had maybe developed a tiny crush on the man, which was now inflating into something that was not so tiny, and much, much harder to control the more time you spent with him. 
“You okay?” Akaashi asks, peering over you.
You don’t trust yourself enough to reply which is why you stuff a gyoza into your mouth and nod rapidly.
Silence lapses over you both as you eat, but you can feel his eyes boring into the side of your head. You pretend not to notice, trying to engross yourself in the taste of the gyoza and the tang of soy sauce.
Akaashi slouches slightly, his body relaxing as time passes. You can see it in the way his shoulders drop, his thighs spreading as he gets more comfortable.
“Instead of adding romance as a subplot, why don’t you make it into another story altogether?”
You blink over at him, surprised. 
“I don’t have time to write another manga,” you say, shaking your head, “I’d have to find another publisher if I wanted to write something that was purely romance.”
“Shonen manga in the romance genre exist,” he replies, running his hand through his hair, “or you could just self-publish.”
You’d been hoping to avoid the topic of self-publishing. Sure, you knew of it, participated in it even. It’d been used as a creative outlet, to get out some ideas that you couldn’t work on when your success as a mangaka had grown. Besides, it wasn’t like you could tell Akaashi that you had drawn up stories that were, well, inappropriate. 
“But that would be too much work,” you sigh, trying to stop his train of thought.
Akaashi stares at you thoughtfully. The more you spend time with him, the more you begin to regret your choice to come here. Emailing the manuscript to him would’ve been the smarter choice, but you just had to feel sorry for the guy.
“I did read one the other day that had a similar art style to yours.”
Fuck, fuck, fuck. You can feel your composure slipping. There was no way he could know that you self-published stories that were practically panel after panel of porn. Maybe he enjoyed it? One thought leads to another and you find yourself imagining Akaashi with his hand wrapped around his cock, his head tipped back as he strokes himself.
“What was it about?” you manage to grit out, trying to see through the haze of your indecent thoughts.
“About a couple,” he says simply, “they ended up fucking.”
You can feel the hope swirling in your mind fade. Akaashi definitely knew. 
“Didn’t know you read that sort of thing.”
“I’m a man, aren’t I? Sometimes porn just doesn’t cut it. The story was pretty great too.”
He thought the story was great? You can’t help yourself from perking up, the compliment making you feel warm. 
“I just find it so strange,” he murmurs, leaning closer to you.
You swallow harshly, mustering up a smile with your trembling lips, “why’s that?”
“The author’s note,” Akaashi says, “the little bunny avatar was the same as yours.”
So, you had messed up. You spy the front door from the corner of your eyes. If you walked, you’d get there in about ten steps, but if you ran, you’d get there in about three - maybe two - strides. Sure, you wouldn’t ever be able to face Akaashi again, but you think you’d be fine with it. Report filed to the higher ups stating creative differences and you’d be able to find a new editor, no problem.
“It’s all probably just a coincidence,” you say nonchalantly, “plenty of people like bunnies.”
“Some of the dialogue was similar to yours, distinct writing and all that.”
You grit your teeth. The man didn’t know when to let go.
“Like I said, coincidence.”
“Right,” he says, nodding along, “a coincidence. Was it also a coincidence that the couple that had sex was a mangaka and her editor?”
You scramble to your feet when he says that. Letting out an awkward laugh, your cheeks heated with embarrassment, you decide that this is the best time to take your leave.
“Have- have a good night!” you say, voice pitching.
Determination has Akaashi’s eyes gleaming and now you’re bolting, feet nearly tripping over each other as you dart towards his apartment door. It seems as though fate isn’t in your favor tonight, Akaashi’s hand curling around your wrist as he catches onto you before you can open the door. You squeak when he slams his hand against the wall, right next to your head as he pushes you up against the door.
“Classic scene,” he murmurs, his eyes narrowing as he takes in your meek expression, “you always use it.”
“Fuck off, Akaashi!” you snap, pushing at his chest.
It’s a struggle, but you reach back behind you, hand grabbing blindly for the door handle. He doesn’t let you reach it, catching your wrist and pinning it against the door.
“You sure?” Akaashi asks, his eyes darkened, “or maybe you want me to fuck you.”
Your breath catches in your throat, mouth opening before closing again. There’s nothing left in you, no retorts, no words to get yourself out of this situation. He lets out a sigh when he feels your body relax, his hand on your wrist loosening as he lets go. You stare up at him, biting your lip nervously.
“You should’ve said something,” he says quietly, adjusting his glasses.
“And embarrass myself?” you mutter, picking at the wool of your sweater.
Akaashi doesn’t say anything, his hand smoothing up your hip and settling on your waist. Your eyes widen, arousal shooting through your body as he presses himself closer, his other hand finding your waist. Akaashi squeezes gently and you bite back a whine, eyes drooping slightly as he just squeezes and pets at your sides.
“It was good,” he says hoarsely, “the story, the details, the sex… came to it a couple of times.”
“You- you liked it?” you whisper, voice airy.
“Yeah,” he whispers back, his eyes meeting yours, “liked it… like you.”
Your eyes flutter shut when he kisses your cheek, your heart thudding in your chest. You never dreamt it’d come down to this, but you find yourself grateful for Akaashi’s observational nature.
He takes his glasses off, placing them into his pocket. Akaashi’s lips drag across your cheek, pressing soft kisses against your skin. He kisses the corner of your mouth, lips brushing against yours gently. 
“Kiss me, Akaashi” you whisper, arms wrapping around his neck.
“Yeah,” Akaashi says softly, “yeah, I’ll kiss you, baby.”
A contented sigh escapes you as he slots his lips over yours, kissing you gently. The heat between you begins to grow, his hands slipping under your sweater to feel your bare skin. You gasp into his mouth, his hands surprisingly warm.
Akaashi smiles against your lips, his hand running up your back as his kisses turn hungrier, his tongue tracing the seam of your lips. You let him lick into your mouth, tugging at his hair desperately. Rocking up onto the tips of your toes, you deepen the kiss, pulling him impossibly closer. 
He wraps his arms around your waist, groaning when your nails scratch his scalp fleetingly. You bite your kiss-swollen lip as he drags his lips down your neck, landing heated kisses to your skin.
Akaashi kisses the pulse of your throat, his lips finding their way back to yours. Soft pants fill the air, his smile hazy as he peers down at you. You smile back, head tilting to the side to let him kiss your cheek again.
“You’re such a dork,” he whispers, his eyes twinkling.
“Shut up,” you whine, pushing at his chest.
He grins, his hands grasping yours. Akaashi pulls you away from the door, his arms wrapping around the backs of your thighs as he picks you up. You laugh, legs wrapping around his waist, lips pressing against his as he carries you to his bed.
Akaashi lays you down on his bed and you watch with half-lidded eyes as he pulls his shirt off. He might not have played as competitively like he did in highschool, but you had been there when he had played with his friends. It’d been entrancing to watch the way he had set the ball for his friends, the ball curving through the air cleanly for the spiker to hit.
“‘s not fair how good you look,” you grumble, pouting.
He rolls his eyes, crawling onto the bed, his body hovering over yours.
“You look pretty good yourself,” Akaashi says, his fingers playing with the hem of your sweater.
You lift your arms for him, letting him pull it off of you. His gaze fixes on the swell of your breasts and you flush, looking away.
“You’re shy now?” He murmurs, a soft laugh escaping him as he kisses your jaw.
“You’re such a jerk,” you huff out.
Akaashi smiles and you don’t think you’ll ever be able to be truly angry with him. He’s patient more than anything, caring and always honest. You’ve never met a man like him, never met someone who could quell your worries the way he could. It makes you want to never let go.
His body settles between your thighs, his nimble fingers pulling your bra free. Your nipples pebble in the cold air and Akaashi leans forward, his hot, wet mouth enveloping a hard bud into his mouth.
You whine brokenly, back arching slightly as he sucks your nipple, tongue swirling around the bud. He groans as you run your fingers through his hair, his mouth suctioning around your breast for a few moments before he pulls off with a pop.
His mouth finds your other breast, kissing the side of it, mouthing at your skin. You can feel his tongue caress the underside of it, laving across your breast before he bites gently at your flesh, his half-lidded eyes meeting yours. 
“You’re a fuckin’ tease,” he whispers against your breast.
You shake your head, mewling when his hand slides up, his fingers pitching at your spit-coated nipples. He rests his head between your breasts, watching you contentedly as you writhe under the onslaught of his touches. 
“A- Akaashi,” you whimper, hips bucking, “want- want more, please.”
“So polite, baby” he coos, his hands groping at your breasts. 
He pulls away from you and you whine, lifting your hips for him when he peels your pants off. There’s a moment of silence and you’re anticipating the feel of his mouth on your body, only for him to let out a low laugh. 
“Bunnies til the end, huh?” Akaashi asks, his fingers playing with the waistband of your panties.
Your brows furrow, not quite sure what he’s talking about until you prop yourself on your elbows and see that you’re wearing a pair of bunny-patterned panties.
“Oh, fuck off,” you groan, slumping back down onto the bed and slinging your arm over your eyes.
“They’re cute,” he smiles, prying your arm away from your face, “just like you, baby.”
Akaashi grasps one of your legs, bringing it to his mouth as he runs his hand along the length of it, kissing the sole of your foot and then your ankle. A soft hum leaves you, watching as he kisses up your leg, his kisses feather-light.
You run your fingers through his hair as he kisses the little bow on your panties, his nose pressing between your clothed folds to breathe you in.
“Pussy’s soaked through,” Akaashi murmurs, pulling back to look at your dampened panties.
“‘s your fault,” you slur, trying to push his face back to where you want it.
“All my fault,” he agrees, his tongue licking up over your panties, “guess I’ll have to take care of you then.”
You nod, trying to stop the little twitches that shoot through your body. Akaashi lets his mouth latch onto you, trying to suck the slick that’s soaked through the fabric of your panties.
“A- ah!” you pant, fingers fisting his hair as he squeezes your hips, his face nuzzling deeper between your thighs.
Akaashi’s lithe fingers pull at your panties, dragging them down your thighs. You don’t miss the way he tucks them into his pocket.
“Always so pretty, baby” he whispers, his thumbs pulling apart your folds to expose your pussy.
He moans when he sees the translucent strings of arousal that cling to your folds, his tongue darting out to lick up the little strings. You whimper when he kisses your clit gently, watching as he rubs the pad of his thumb against your swollen clit. Thighs twitching, you shift, trying to tilt your hips a little higher so you can feel his mouth on you.
“Ask for it,” Akaashi says, his cheek pressing against your thigh as he stares up at you.
“‘m not- ‘m not asking for it,” you retort, glaring at him.
“Bet it’d feel good,” he whispers, his tongue lolling out of his mouth.
You whine when he just keeps his tongue there, saliva dripping from the tip of it and onto your pussy. He makes an obscene noise, gathering some more saliva, spitting on your cunt.
“All you gotta do is ask,” he coaxes, his arms wrapping around your thighs, “clit looks so achy… makes me wanna kiss it better.”
“P- please,” you whisper, your voice barely audible.
“Didn’t quite catch that,” Akaashi smiles up at you, his eyes twinkling.
You’ll have to get him back for his teasing later, but right now you can’t wait.
“Please lick my pussy!”
You squeal when he latches his mouth onto you again, his tongue lapping over your wet pussy. He groans and you tug at his hair, thighs squeezing around his head as he laves his tongue over you greedily, letting his tongue dip into your hole before he sucks your clit into his mouth.
Legs kicking out, you let out a strangled noise as he flicks his tongue over your clit. Akaashi lands the filthiest kisses to your clit, alternating between sucking and little pecks, while he’s sunk two fingers inside of you. They curl up inside of you, grazing your sensitive spot perfectly. He fucks his fingers in and out of you, your wanton noises filling his bedroom.
Akaashi presses his face deeper, his fingers crooking. The feeling of his mouth in tandem with his fingers has you whimpering and whining, airy noises spilling from your lips at his ministrations. You might not ever be able to go without him ever again.
He holds you in place as you thrash, the overwhelming feeling inside of you building and building. Akaashi slips his fingers out of you in favor of devouring your cunt again, licking through your velvety folds, his tongue swirling before he presses it inside of you. 
“Taste so fuckin’ good,” he growls. 
You blink down at him dazedly. There’s a light flush covering his cheeks, his mouth glistening with your wetness. He opens his mouth to say something else but you ignore him, pushing his head so that his lips are flush against your cunt. Akaashi lets out a muffled laugh against your pussy, his tongue licking over you again.
Hand squeezing at your breast, you bite your lip, losing yourself in the caress of his tongue. He laps over you, again and again, pressing sloppy kisses to your clit. 
“Gonna come,” you whisper, feeling the softness of his hair under your palm, “gonna come, ‘kaashi.”
He tilts your hips a little more, rising up onto his knees with your legs slung over his shoulders. You squeal again when he shakes his head, tongue dragging from side to side before he plunges it inside of you, his thumb pressing against your clit at the same time.
Your thighs squeeze tightly around his head as you come, loosening after a while when twitches rack through your body. Akaashi squeezes your thighs, lets your legs slip from his shoulders as he kisses your trembling thighs. 
“Good girl,” he whispers.
Akaashi kisses your cheek and wipes the stray curls of your hair away from your face. A soft sheen of sweat covers your body and he hums, smoothing his thumbs over the underside of your breasts.
He lays down beside you and you curl up beside him, eyes catching on the bulge in his sweatpants.
“Need some help?” you murmur, fingers dragging down his chest.
“If you don’t mind,” he sighs, his arm wrapping around your waist to hold you close to him.
You smile, kissing his jaw gently as your hand slides past his navel, disappearing into his sweatpants. The weight of his cock is heavy and hot and Akaashi moans softly when your hand curls around his length.
“Ask for it, ‘kaashi,” you whisper, voice lilting.
“You’re such a brat,” he mutters.
“Use your manners, Keiji.”
His eyes widen when you use his name and you grin, landing a soft kiss to his cheek as your breasts squish up against his bicep. You squeeze around his cock and he lets out a soft whine, his hips bucking.
“Fuck- fuck hah-,” Akaashi grits out, “stroke my cock, baby, hm? Please?”
You hum softly, beginning to move your hand. His thick cock twitches as you stroke him, your wrist rotating.
He pants softly, his head turning to meet yours. You smile, running your fingers through his hair, brushing the soft strands out of his eyes. Affection bursts inside of you, heart fluttering as the flush on his cheeks deepens.
His brows have drawn together and you smooth your thumb over them, peppering soft kisses over his face, leg slinging over his as you pull down his sweatpants to free his cock completely. Akaashi’s cock has filled out, pre-cum smearing across his abdomen. You caress the head of it, giggling when he lets out a broken moan as you rub your thumb against the tip.
“You look so handsome,” you say, stroking his cock a little faster.
Akaashi smiles and you dip your head, kissing him. He groans, his hips chasing after the feeling of your hand around him as you kiss. Your hand tightens a little, squeezing at the tip of his cock. Pre-cum wets your hand, soft gasps escaping Akaashi as you let your tongue slip into his mouth.
“Keiji,” you whisper, lips brushing over his, “Keiji, will you fuck me?”
You squeak in surprise when he manages to grab onto your waist, lifting you up and placing you on his lap. His cock is snug between your folds and you whine, dragging your hips along the length of it, biting your lip as more pre-cum leaks from him.
“Sit on my cock, baby” he whispers, smoothing his hands up your thighs.
You nod, shifting a little so that you’re up on your knees. Akaashi watches as you grip the base of his cock, moaning when you rub his cock against your pussy, letting it catch on your clit. Akaashi’s head tips back as you sink down, whimpery, little noises leaving you as your pussy swallows up his cock.
It’s so thick inside of you, fitting so snugly that you clench around him. Akaashi wraps an arm around your waist, bringing your front flush against him. He lets you tuck your face into the crook of his neck, his arms tightening around your waist. You can feel him move, his feet flat against the bed as he bends his knees.
“K- Keiji!” you wail when he begins to fuck up into you.
Akaashi grunts, holding you against him as he moves his hips, rutting up into you. His hands grope at your ass, gripping your ass tightly as he moves a little more forcefully. You bury your face deeper into the crook of his neck, pressing sloppy kisses against his skin as you smooth your hand over his hair. 
“Is this- fuck,” Akaashi grits out, “is this what you imagined when you drew up those panels?”
You nod, too far gone to cling onto the remnants of your stubbornness. 
“Yeah?” he whispers, “imagined me fucking up into you, huh?”
“Y- yes!” you cry out, body squirming when he lands a heavy spank to your ass.
“Good fuckin’ girl,” he growls.
A soft mewl leaves you at the praise, your hips swaying back lazily to meet his thrusts. The sound of his hips slapping into your ass echoes through his room, your wetness leaking around his cock and coating his balls.
Your body rocks against his, your hand gripping at the sheets beside his head when he adjusts his grip on you, planting his feet a bit firmer against his mattress to thrust into you harder. You gasp at the sensation, sinking your teeth into his shoulder when his cock hits deep inside of you.
Akaashi hisses at the feeling of your teeth, spanking your ass again before you clench around him with a scream, body shuddering on top of his as you come. 
“Baby, baby, you gotta let go,” he rasps.
You shake your head stubbornly, pushing your hips down so that it swallows his cock all the way to the base.
“Inside, Keiji.”
He groans, his hands kneading at your hips roughly. You can feel the twitch of his cock, a satisfied coo leaving your lips when he comes, spurts of his hot cum filling you up. Akaashi’s hips stutter, thrusting into you unevenly as his cock jerks, more cum flooding your pussy.
You both pant, chests heaving. Akaashi rubs his hand along your back and you emerge from the crook of his neck, a drunken smile on your face.
He laughs hoarsely at your expression, cupping your cheek to guide you into another kiss while his cock softens inside of you. It’s a little uncomfortable, but you don’t mind, losing yourself in the heat of his body as cum leaks from your pussy.
“How long have you known?” you ask, tracing the slope of his nose.
“About a month,” he murmurs.
“A month?” you scoff, hitting his chest, “and you didn’t say anything?”
Akaashi grins, grabbing your hand and bringing it up to his lips to kiss across your knuckles.
“That would ruin the fun.”
You roll your eyes, prodding your fingers into his chest, “it was hardly fun, Keiji.”
“But you got what you wanted, didn’t you?” he whispers.
You laugh when he flips you onto your back, moaning softly when you feel his cock beginning to harden again inside of you.
“Put- put your glasses on,” you whisper, head tipping back as he rolls his hips into you.
Akaashi reaches over to dig his glasses out from the pocket of his discarded sweatpants, pushing them up to sit comfortably on his nose.
You clench around him at the sight, biting your lip as you give him a pleased smile.
“Knew you had a thing for ‘em.”
He grabs at your legs, moving them so that they’re pressed against his chest, your ankles resting on his shoulders.
“Use this as inspiration, baby,” Akaashi smirks, “I’ll even edit it for you.”
2K notes · View notes
theostrophywife · 1 year ago
Text
shut up kiss me.
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pairing: theodore nott x reader
song inspiration: shut up kiss me by angel olsen.
author's note: everyone say thank you to my love @writingsbychlo for fueling my delusions. constantly spamming her with my ideas because i have no self control when it comes to this man. there’s just something about theo fighting that makes me absolutely feral but i’ll hush now before i spoil it 🤭
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Theodore. Fucking. Nott. 
Those three words fueled your rampage as you marched across the quidditch pitch. The audacity of that cocky, arrogant, silver tongued Slytherin knew no bounds. For years, you tolerated the pompous prick and the rivalry between you, but today he had finally gone too far. 
You cleared the field in less than a minute, passing by confused players as you angrily seethed. You spotted a shock of familiar platinum blonde hair and walked right up to Draco Malfoy. 
“Where the hell is he?”
He chuckled, perfectly aware of your longstanding enmity with his closest friend. “What’s he done this time?”
“Where. Is. He?” you repeated through gritted teeth. “Don’t make me ask again, Malfoy.” 
The blonde paled several shades when he saw the fire burning in your gaze. “Locker rooms. I wouldn’t go in there, Y/N. They’re still shower—“ Draco sighed as you brushed past him. “Whatever, it’s your funeral.”
The locker rooms were steamy, the heat and humidity clinging to your school uniform as you stalked through the aisles. The Slytherin players startled when they spotted you amongst their midst. 
“Well, well, well,” Mattheo drawled as he leaned against the wall. A towel hung dangerously low on his hips and he smirked when your eyes flickered over his body. “What do we have here? A sweet little Hufflepuff marching straight into the viper’s den.”
“Where the fuck is he, Riddle?”
Mattheo grinned lazily. “You’re going to have to be more specific than that, sweetheart.” 
“You know exactly who I’m talking about. Your arrogant prick of a friend who sent my fucking date to the hospital wing!” 
Before you went to sleep last night, you had done so with a grin on your face after a wonderful date with Alec Stone at the Three Broomsticks, but then you arrived at breakfast this morning with no Alec in sight and the rumor mill rampant with talks of Theo pummeling some poor Ravenclaw in the courtyard. 
You were going to kill him. 
“Sorry, love. Doesn’t ring a bell.” 
You frowned, purposely bumping against Mattheo as you walked further down the dimly lit aisle. In your trail for vengeance, you ran into a very flustered looking Enzo who yelped as he sought to cover his very naked torso. 
“Y/N,” Enzo said, hastily wrapping a towel around his waist. “What are you doing in the locker rooms?”
Behind him, the sound of the shower running echoed against the marble tiles. “Is he in there?”
Berkshire’s face fell. “You heard about the fight?” 
“It wasn’t a fight,” you said angrily. “He pummeled Alec so badly that he’s currently in the hospital wing with a concussion and several broken bones.”
“Just hear him out, okay?” 
Your eyes nearly bugged out of your head. “Hear him out? Your precious Theodore beat the absolute shit out of my date and you want me to hear him out? For what? What reason could Theo possibly have for doing what he did to Alec? He couldn’t stand to see me have fun for two fucking seconds? This is low even for him and you know it, Enzo.”
“You don’t know the whole story, Y/N.” 
“Well then please point me in the right direction so I can hear from the arsehole himself.” 
“He’s in there,” Enzo said, pointing to the shower stalls. “But I’m warning you, Y/N. He’s in a proper foul mood.” 
You huffed. “That makes two of us.” 
The steam from the showers rose up like a malevolent fog, curling around your feet as you stormed through the stalls. You found him in the farthest corner, water trickling down his back as he faced the tiled wall. His body language was tense, like a serpent preparing to strike. A crimson trail swirled against the marble as blood dripped from Theo’s bruised knuckles. The sight of it incensed you. 
“What the hell is wrong with you?” 
Theo whipped his head towards your direction, his dark curls plastered against his cheek. Those watercolor eyes were stormy, the blues and greens flickering with anger as he met your gaze. 
“You shouldn’t be here,” he said dismissively. 
“Bullshit!” You countered, stepping further into the stall. The steam barely covered Theo’s naked form, but you weren’t about to let that deter you from demanding answers. “You owe me a fucking explanation.”
“For what?” 
“For what?” you repeated incredulously. “You beat Alec within an inch of his life and that’s all you have to say for yourself? Honestly Theodore, have you gone absolutely mental?” 
“He deserved it.” 
“Why? Because he took me out on a date? Because you couldn’t stand to let me have this one thing? You absolutely loathe the idea of me being even remotely happy, don’t you?” 
Theo clenched his fists as his jaw twitched in anger. “No. I loathe the idea of that miserable excuse of a human being breathing the same air as you.” 
“So you beat him to a bloody pulp?” 
His voice was cold and icy, cutting through you like glass. “He’s lucky I didn’t do worse.”
“What do you have against Alec?” You moved closer to Theo, closing the gap as you poked his chest. The shower streamed over the both of you, blurring your vision. The water was hot against your skin, but it paled against the heat of your own anger. “What did he ever do to you, Theo?” 
Theo gripped your wrist. You were vaguely aware of his nakedness, but he made no move to hide it and you were too furious to even care. “Don’t say his name. I can’t bear to hear you say it after what he said about you this morning.” 
You stepped backward, flinching. “What—what are you talking about?” 
When you met his gaze, you startled. You’d never seen Theo this angry before. His eyes, which were usually dead and expressionless, burned with a cold sort of fury. 
“I heard him in the courtyard, bragging to his stupid friends. I thought he was just chatting shit, so I kept back. I only came down for a smoke, but then he said your name.” 
The pit in your stomach grew. “What did he say?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. You weren’t sure you wanted to know. Not if he was this angry over it.
“The stupid fucking prick was talking about your date. The dress you wore. The smiles you gave him. The hand holding through Hogsmeade. Then one of his gormless mates asked if he got lucky.” 
You froze at his words as a horrible feeling washed over you. Theo loosened his grip on your wrist, but didn’t let go. 
“Do you know what that sodding idiot said? I will, soon enough. I can tell she’s raring to go.” 
Tears pricked at your eyes. You felt like you were going to be violently sick. 
“And his friends—those miserable fucking wankers started betting on how long it would take. Two dates. Three. A month.” Theo’s hands were shaking, violence spilling over into his veins. “That smug tosser smirked and said he could’ve had you out in the hallway. That’s how eager you were.”
“I barely even touched him!” you said angrily. “I kissed his cheek good night and that was it.” 
“I know,” Theo said, his voice low and rough. “I know you. I knew he was lying, so I fucking lost it. I walked over there and just punched and punched until my knuckles were bloody and bruised and all I could see was red. I wanted to wipe that stupid fucking smirk off his mouth.” 
You could picture Theo putting out his cigarette ever so calmly before walking over to throw the first punch. You’d seen him fight before. He was relentless. Where Mattheo was pure fire and rage, Theo was as cold as ice. There was nothing but lethal calm in those dead eyes as he delivered blow after blow in absolute silence. 
“Eventually, Blaise and Enzo pulled me off of that prick.” He averted his gaze as if remembering the moment. “When his idiot friends finally peeled him off the floor, I spit on the fucker. I told him to consider it a warning. That I’d do a lot worse if I ever heard your name come out of his mouth again. I promised him that a concussion would be the least of his worries if he didn’t stay the fuck away from you.”
The tears fell down your cheeks despite your efforts to keep them in. The anger all but faded from Theo’s eyes as soon as he realized that you were crying. You were so, so stupid. For thinking Alec was a nice guy. For being so giddy after your date only for him to turn around and spit vile lies about you. 
For crying in front of your worst enemy.
The color drained from Theo’s face as you cried into your hands. You felt him shift beside you, debating whether or not to come closer. 
“Don’t,” you said through a broken sob. “Don’t come near me.” 
Theo flinched at your words, looking visibly pained. His voice was soft and soothing when he spoke again. “Tell me how to fix it. Do you want to yell at me? Punch me? Go ahead, love. I can take it.” He sounded desperate. “Just please, please don’t cry.” 
You hugged your arms around your waist and glared at him. “Why do you even care?” 
He paused, fingers flexing at his side as he fought the urge to reach out and comfort you. 
“Because I care about you!” The exasperation in his voice made your chest tighten. “I care that you let that stupid idiot take you on a date to the Three Broomsticks. I care that you fucking smiled at him when he gave you roses even though I know you prefer sunflowers. I care that you kissed him on the cheek when he dropped you off at your dorm.”
You sniffled, utterly perplexed at his words. “I don’t understand. We hate each other!” 
Theo visibly softened, the tension leaving his body. “I could never hate you, Y/N.” He reached for your hand. Your first instinct was to pull away, but you let him trace soothing circles on your skin. “I may tease you. Prank you. Annoy you. But I’ve never hated you.” 
Theo wiped the dried up tears from your cheeks. No fresh tears, which he took as a good sign. “I don’t even think you remember this, but I tried asking you to the Yule Ball in fourth year.” 
The memory surfaced. You were reading by the Black Lake and Theo had asked if you had a date. You said no, to which he promptly asked if he could take you. You left in a huff, thinking that it was just another way to rile you up. 
“I thought you were just trying to get a rise out of me. If I would’ve known…” 
Theo paused. “How could you not know? How could you not see?” 
The rage crashed against you like an errant wave. You didn’t know if you were angry at Theo or yourself, but you exploded either way, unable to keep your emotions under control. 
“Because you never told me, you idiot!”
“I never told you, but I showed you.” He smiled crookedly. “I'm not good with words, obviously. Every time I open my mouth it’s like I say the perfect combination of words to piss you off. So I learned to tell you how I felt through my actions.” 
“Haven’t you ever wondered why your favorite study spot in the library is always free? That’s because I threatened anyone who came near it. Or how you never seem to run out of quills despite the fact that you manage to break one every day from how hard you write? I always replaced them when you weren’t looking.” Your heart clenched at his words. “I even bribed first years to bring you hot chocolate when I knew you were pulling all nighters.” 
You stood there, staring at him. This wasn’t the cocky, arrogant Theo that you knew. He was looking at you so earnestly that it physically hurt how endearing it all was. 
“Why would you let me think that you were an inconsiderate jerk this whole time?” 
Those hypnotizing eyes pierced right through you, filled with a sadness so heavy that you felt it weighing on your chest. 
“Because at least you were thinking of me.”
You swayed gently. The water had long seeped into your bones, making you shiver as all of your clothes stuck to your skin like paper. You were convinced that your body had gone into shock. The range of emotions you were currently experiencing was turbulent to say the least. You stood in stunned silence, just taking it all in. Then the impact of his words hit you all at once. 
Theo watched as your bottom lip trembled. Panic seized him as you began crying again, this time not bothering to hide it from him. “Fuck I’m sorry, Y/N. Please don’t cry.” 
He didn’t know what to do. Should he comfort you? Should he keep his distance? Theo felt like he was doing a rather exceptional job of mucking things up. 
“Why are you saying sorry?” You said between hiccups. “I’m the one who should be apologizing.”
Theo caressed your cheek. So gently. Like he half-expected you to recoil. That only set a fresh wave of tears to spill onto your cheeks. 
“You have nothing to apologize for, love.” 
“Of course I do!” you nearly wailed. “I’ve been horrible to you. I’ve thought the worst of you, but all this time you were doing all these sweet, considerate things and I never even noticed. You should’ve told me, Theo.” 
“I—I didn’t think you’d ever see me that way,” Theo said softly. “It was better to have you hate me and still be part of my life than risking not having you in it at all.” 
Because at least you were thinking of me. 
It was the saddest thing that you’ve ever heard. For years, Theo settled for being your enemy because he’d rather have your hatred and loathing than indifference. He sustained himself on the bare minimum because he thought that was all he deserved. 
“I’m sorry, Theo. I’m so so fucking sorry.” 
Theo was absolutely distressed. “Fuck, look Y/N. Let me just finish up here and get my towel and when I’m dry and slightly less naked then we can talk, okay?” 
You sniffled, wiping your tears away. There was no way you could wait. Not after everything Theo had just told you. Not after everything that he’s been telling you all these years. Theo had literally and figuratively laid himself bare before you. The least you could do was to even the playing field. 
So you unlaced the gold and black tie around your neck. Unbuttoned your blouse and threw it somewhere behind you. Stepped out of your skirt and stared at Theo head on. 
“Oh—Merlin’s beard, what in the hell are you doing, Y/N? Are you trying to send me into cardiac arrest?” 
You shook your head, smiling slightly. Theo was determined to look everywhere but at your very exposed body. You were still in your bra and panties, but the black lace really didn’t leave much to the imagination. Especially when the water clung to every inch of your skin. 
“You were vulnerable with me,” you said simply. “So I’m returning the favor.” 
Theo felt like he was definitely headed for an early grave. He tried to think of something—anything—other than the girl he’s been head over heels for since third year standing naked in front of him.
“Theo,” you said softly. His name had never sounded half as good coming out of anyone else’s mouth. He wanted to bottle the sound. “Can I—can I hug you?” 
He could’ve sworn that his heart had stopped beating. The air had all but left his lungs, deflating his entire body as though he’d fallen off his broom and plummeted through the sky at breakneck speed. 
Theo didn’t recognize his own voice as he said, “Of course you can, Y/N.”
The words were barely out of his mouth before you dashed into his arms, nearly toppling him over from the force of it. You were a tiny little thing, but you were stronger than you looked. He smiled as you wrapped your arms around his neck, standing on your tiptoes as you hugged him. For a minute you and Theo just stood there under the trickling water, holding each other as though you were the only two people alive. 
If this was all the affection you were willing to give him, Theo would’ve been content to hold onto you until you grew tired of him. His slender fingers traced down your spine, drawing soothing circles against your skin as you buried your face in the crook of his neck. You felt safe. Like nothing bad could ever happen as long as you were with him.
You couldn’t remember the last time you’d felt like this. There was just this spark between you. Perhaps that was part of the reason why you had been so angry this morning. 
It hadn’t just been because Theo sent Alec to the hospital wing, which you were now thankful for after hearing all the disgusting things he said about you. It was also because you thought that he had ruined your chance of feeling that rush with someone else. The same rush you got when the two of you were arguing. The same rush that was noticeably missing when you kissed Alec last night. 
Things with Theo had always been electric. You attributed it to mutual loathing, but that wasn’t the full story. Sure he made your blood boil sometimes, but he also made you feel alive. You were terrified to admit it to yourself, which is probably why you said yes to Alec in the first place. 
You sighed as Theo’s fingers tangled through your hair. He gently pulled your head back and looked at you in the most heartbreaking way. 
“Y/N,” he said hoarsely. Theo’s gaze dipped to your mouth as his arm snaked around your waist. “I think I might die if I go one more second without kissing you. Will you please put me out of my misery, love?” 
You couldn’t help but smile. “Gladly.”
Theo held his breath as you pulled him down to you, lips brushing shyly at first. Then you leaned in and kissed him. And he truly and honestly thought that he had died. 
Your lips were soft against his, tasting of strawberries and mint toothpaste. He cupped the back of your head and tilted your chin to deepen the kiss. Before, Theo thought he could’ve sustained himself from a simple hug, but right now, he couldn’t even control himself as he gorged himself on your taste. 
He chuckled when you tried and failed to get on your tiptoes to offset the height difference between you. Theo caressed your cheek and smiled against your mouth. 
“Need some help, love?” 
You nodded before pulling him back down again. This time, the tender kisses turned more heated as he locked your legs around his waist and pressed your back against the wall. You gasped as the cold tile made contact with your bare skin and Theo took the opportunity to slide his tongue against yours. 
Merlin’s beard. Theo kissed with his entire body. There wasn’t an inch of you that wasn’t touching him and the skin to skin contact set your body on fire. You’d kissed other boys before, but they paled in comparison. You couldn’t get enough of Theo. You ran your fingers through his hair. Wrapped your legs more tightly around his waist. Trailed kisses along his jaw and neck and throat. 
Then he fucking moaned. 
It was a low, rumbling sound that sent tremors over your body and shook every fiber of your being like a devastating earthquake. You wanted to hear him make that sound over and over again. 
“Y/N,” Theo said, his forehead dropping to yours. “Before I lose all sense of self, I want to—no—I need to tell you—”
“What is it, Theo?”
“If we do this, then you have to understand what it means to me,” Theo whispered. “I may be terrible with words, but it’s important for me that you hear me when I say this. I want you. Not just physically, but in every sense of the word. I wanted you in third year when you first told me off for being a dick to the first years and I want you now even though you came in here to defend a prick that definitely doesn’t deserve it.” 
“What are you saying, Theo?” 
“I want you to be mine, Y/N.” 
You beamed. “Like, your girlfriend?”
“I don’t think girlfriend is a strong enough word to express how I feel for you, but it’s a start.” He moved the hair out of your face and cradled your cheek. “So yes, I suppose I do want you to be my girlfriend. I want to hold hands with you in the hallways. I want to look up at the stands during my games and see you cheering me on. I want to take you up to the Astronomy Tower and kiss you under the stars.” 
“And you say you’re bad with words,” you teased. “I want to do all those things and more with you, Theodore Nott. Of course I’ll be your girlfriend.” 
“Good, cause you’re mine.” Theo said matter-of-factly, those adorable dimples making an appearance on each cheek. “You were mine even before you knew it.” 
He kissed you again, but this time it was soft and sweet and it filled your stomach with butterflies. Theo no longer felt the need to hoard as much of your affection as he could because you had just given him the ultimate reassurance that he would have plenty of you in the future. 
You sighed contently against him, toying with the curls at the nape of his neck. He shifted, pressing kisses against your neck. Your fingers froze when you felt him stir underneath you. 
“Theo,” you said slowly, biting back a smirk. “Is that what I think it is pressing against my leg?” 
He groaned. “We’re half naked, in the shower, heavily making out, and you just agreed to be my girlfriend. Of course I’m hard.” 
You stifled a laugh. “Theodore Nott, is emotional intimacy turning you on?” 
“Everything about you turns me on.” 
“That’s helpful to know,” you said with a little smirk. “Especially when we're dueling and I’m losing.” 
“Merlin’s beard. My girlfriend’s downright evil.” 
You grinned so hard that your cheeks ached. Theo peppered kisses all over your face before setting you down. 
“I suppose we should head to dinner soon. My teammates watched you march in here in a fit of rage. They might think you’ve murdered me.” 
“There’s only one problem,” you said as you finally turned off the shower. “I’m soaking wet.” 
“I bet you are, darling.” 
You rolled your eyes. “From the shower, you wanker.” 
He grinned and kissed the top of your head. “It’s alright. I’ve got some extra clothes in my locker.”
Ten minutes later, the two of you walked out in the quidditch pitch hand in hand. Theo’s sweater completely enveloped you and he smiled a little at the sight. You received a few interesting stares as you made your way through the castle halls, but one look from Theo and they all quickly found something else to gawk at. Having a scary boyfriend was already paying off. 
On the way to dinner, you ran into Enzo. The git had the biggest smile on his face when he saw that you and Theo were holding hands. “So you heard him out after all, huh?” 
“Yeah, we sorted out our differences,” you said with a smile. “Coincidentally, I gained a boyfriend out of the whole ordeal. Happy now, Berkshire?” 
“Absolutely chuffed,” Enzo said with a grin. “See you lovebirds at dinner.” 
Theo rolled his eyes as his friend disappeared into the Great Hall. He turned, squeezing your fingers. “I should warn you. My friends can be a bit…much.” 
“Don’t worry, I think we all got fairly acquainted in the locker rooms. If they tease us, well I’ve got a perfectly scary boyfriend to fend them off.” 
He chuckled. “A scary boyfriend with an even more terrifying girlfriend.” 
You winked, kissing his bruised knuckles. “This school won’t know what hit them.” 
“Neither did Alec,” he said with a satisfied smirk. You gave him a reprimanding glare, but it was half-hearted. You didn’t actually feel sorry for the prick. “Sorry. Too soon?” 
“You know you can’t punch everyone that says anything bad about me, right?”
“Of course not. I’m perfectly capable of kicking them too.”
You rolled your eyes fondly. “Shut up and kiss me, Theo.” 
“Yes ma'am.” 
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taglist: @annaisabookworm @marina468
please let me know if you'd like to be added.
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tojisun · 7 months ago
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sugar, spice, everything on ice (hockey au)
hockey player simon riley x f!reader’s relationship, through the eyes of the fans // sort of smau
i was listening to 5sos’ slsp while writing this so!!! sorry i went bonkers 😔 i just love this au sm
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simon riley is obsessed with his girl, and it is maddeningly endearing.
of course he’s in love with you, everyone could see even from a continent away, but there is something clingy, possessive, in the way simon hovers around you. like you’d disappear right before his eyes if he wasn’t pressed close; if his tattooed arm wasn’t looped around your waist or his thick fingers were not twined with yours.
it is new, unheard of, even riley’s loyal fans says so, but it’s just so—
nice.
(the word is inadequate, they know, but there’s nothing close that could describe how heart-fluttering his devotion to you is.)
riley has always been a private person, sharing only sparse details of his life. one can even easily locate his earliest instagram post because there’s just about twenty uploads in his account since its creation—from 2017, and it’s a broken hockey stick. even that throw-away picture continues to amass likes as new fans come scouring whatever of him they can find.
his latest post was during last season’s finals’ celebrations—a series of pictures of the boys carrying the stanley cup. the first few pictures were all professionally taken, but the rest splinters into blurred shots of mactavish and garrick, particularly, drinking from the cup from inside of the locker room.
it said: thank you all.
curt, direct, but not any less meaningful.
cut to this year, mid-regular season (january), and after five months of drought, the simon riley posted a picture. and it wasn’t just any picture, but it was a hard launch of his new partner.
it was a selfie, taken by you, the camera angled just slightly. your back was pressed to his chest, and his chin was hooked to your shoulder, and, cheek-to-cheek, the two of you grin up at the camera. the background was distinctly new york, central park, so it must have been taken after the specgru’s game against the rangers (0-4 for the specgru).
for the caption, he wrote: she’s never been here before.
in an instant, all of the speculations were confirmed—the most eligible bachelor of the franchise is, finally, in an official relationship.
news articles popped up after that, speculations bloating at the shocking news. some people have even said that they’re sure they’ve seen you prior to the announcement—weren’t you that one fan simon riley was flirting with while he was on ice, mid-game?
(you were.
you were even one of the people that was tagged in johnny’s story before it got preemptively taken down; and the same person seen with the other WAGs, sprinkles of your silhouette seen on pictures like the ones that are taken on the days when the franchise flies them for game nights or the countless ones during the unveiling of the season’s WAGs jackets.
you have been a part of their circle even before the world knew who you were and, somehow, that was comforting; how simon riley had not thrown you to the wolves—or vultures, as mactavish snarled when they’ve hounded him about his fiancee’s abrupt end of her season in the FIVB, like her health wasn’t the priority over her career—and instead made sure you were surrounded by people who knew how to survive amidst the scrutiny.)
and, just like that, the dam called simon-riley’s-secret-album-of-you broke.
what had been a sporadic activity in his account exploded into series of posts, one update every week. it was a whirlwind of excitement because no one from the hockey world has ever seen this much of simon riley’s life.
he was always unapproachable, distant, like there’s always a wall between him and the rest of the world. like in exchange of being called the living legend, the guiding star, simon riley gets to shirk away from the public whenever he chooses. and who can fault him for that? riley’s career has always been heavily documented—people knew him even before he was drafted into the league, they had betted on his rookie year, and then had put him in a lonely pedestal. so of course he is fiercely protective of his privacy.
only a select few get to truly know him, only a select few have stories of simon that isn’t about the ice or hockey or his in-the-works legacy. only a select few see him beyond his crown, and now he’s giving a piece of his true self to the world because of you.
because you are worth showing off.
because life with you is worth celebrating.
.
riley41
[it’s a candid image of you standing on the balcony, wearing a too-big of a shirt that is getting ruffled by the wind and pyjama pants, and leaning over the railing as you stare at the scenery. you’re all silhouette because your body is devoured by the orange rays of the sunrise, its tendrils spilling into the wooden floors of the hotel room.]
liked by jmactavish.91, reyenzo14, and others
riley41 ibiza
.
riley41
[it’s a series. the first image is of the two of you on his motorcycle, the picture taken from simon’s bike’s camera. you’re both wearing tinted helmets and leather gears, the background a blur of colours which indicates that this was taken mid-ride. you’re gripping him tightly and your body is almost fully-covered by his bulk, leaving only the top half of your helmet to be seen peering from his shoulders.
the second image is of the beach. it’s dusk, and the sky is an explosion of pinks and purples and blues.
the third image is a selfie with your visors up. you’re looking at the camera with a shy smile, your eyes squinted because of how bright it still is, while simon only has his eyes on you.]
liked by pricejhn2, alexkeller_, and others
riley41 vroom
.
riley41
[it’s a mirror selfie of the two of you, with simon taking the photo. the background is notably his house. your back is facing the mirror, your head tilted to rest on his shoulder, while his arm is curled around your waist. you’re wearing this season’s WAG jacket—it’s black and green, their colours. the pose now makes sense because you’re showing off the back of the jacket that spells out RILEY 41 in white. simon’s wearing their away-jersey.]
liked by kylegarrick, konig_76, and others
riley41 game six let’s go
.
riley41
[it’s a video; the angle shows that it is taken by someone else. you and simon are hugging, and are swaying lightly as the two of you dance to the faint sound of music booming from somewhere behind the camera. simon’s mouthing the lyrics to your ear, his cheeks flushed like he’s buzzed from drinking, while you giggle and softly rub your palm at his back.]
liked by jmactavish.91, kylegarrick, and others
riley41 my favourite person
.
.
yourname
[it’s a candid picture you’ve taken of simon sleeping while he uses your lap as pillow. the angle captures the way your fingers are playing with his hair and scratching his scalp gently. the picture is a little blurry because there’s not enough light to properly focus the lens.]
liked by riley41, jjoanne.spam, and others
yourname im the happiest when im with him
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yogurtkags · 5 months ago
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❝ HUSH ❞ — sakusa kiyoomi
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cw. f!reader, fluff, olympics au, athletic trainer!reader, timeskip characters, established relationship, secret marriage, language (omi swears like once), not beta read (sorry!) word count. ~ 1.6k
“japan’s outside hitter sakusa kiyoomi and newly revealed wife, athletic trainer y/n l/n, steals the spotlight in the city of love!”
@tetzoro's summer olympics collab
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your eyes glance in his direction, letting it linger on his figure as the team settles down into their corner. he’s a little tense, understandably so– it’s his first time at the olympics, and with the pressure of the finals sitting on his shoulders, the nerves are showing, though carefully hidden behind his standard resting face that you can see through so well. the lights hanging along the ceilings of the south paris arena cast a tasteful warm glow along the contours of his face. despite the subconscious clenched jaw and slightly downturned lips that make you want to kiss the frown off so badly, there’s a shine in his eyes like no other.
the last few days have been pretty rough, of stiff beds, subpar food and sleeping without kiyoomi. you know he feels the same if the progressively increasing frequency of late night calls and texts are any indication. with the boys sharing rooms in twos amongst themselves and the rest of the team’s staff being housed in a separate wing of the building, falling asleep in his arms was a faraway thought since you arrived at the olympic village.
loml ♡ : miya snores so fuckin’ loudly i can’t handle this me : well it wouldn’t be the first time you’ve dealt with it baby loml ♡ : i still think we should’ve fought harder for us sharing a room
he drifts off into slumber easily after washing up and getting his fill of talking to you (never enough), the mental and physical fatigue of matches and practices in between taking a toll on his body, but for you, being wrapped in his warm embrace was the perfect recipe and vital to a good night's sleep. it’s safe to say that you haven’t been sleeping well for the past week.
it didn’t help that being sworn to secrecy about your relationship also meant that any interactions you had with him outside being the team’s athletic trainer was like treading on eggshells. it feels like you’re in high school again, sitting next to him in the dining hall during meal times with your clasped hands hidden under the table from watchful eyes, his thumb rubbing soft circles against the back of your hand or squeezing ever so often, as if to affirm his presence and silently reassure that i’m here.
it seems to be a trend lately for athletes to be active on their social media platforms, be it their team’s or just a personal account, recounting stories or even taking avid viewers through “a day in the life of an olympic athlete” — without looking too far, even miya jumped on the bandwagon, often seeing suna running around filming short clips of their shenanigans in free pockets of time during the day. you and kiyoomi talked about it before the season began, keeping any non-professional interactions to a minimum. there’s eyes everywhere and it’s better to be safe than sorry.
both of you are very private people, it was only natural that you preferred to keep your personal life and matters to yourselves behind closed doors. this ended up being a double-edged sword, because everyone wants to be all up in your business, especially kiyoomi who finds himself in the spotlight more often, being apart of the “young handsome eligible bachelors” of the MSBY 4 and now one of the most sought-after new additions to japan’s national team.
you on the other hand, were better known by twitter as “the pretty trainer” from the shweiden adlers and now the national team, standing next to another fan-favourite, iwaizumi hajime. thankfully your role is kept more so behind the scenes, checking on the players during games and making sure they remain in tip-top shape on and off the court.
being the quiet and brooding one amongst outgoing chatterboxes meant that the media would try to dig any information out of kiyoomi, but prying interviewers and prodding questions towards him and his love life were smoothly deflected and brushed aside, the boys even coming to his defense if anyone got too pushy with it, which you were beyond thankful for. not that they needed to most of the time, he’s known to be curt with his responses and quick to bring the topic back to the game, and no one likes a snappy sakusa anyway, many have learned this the hard way.
just months prior to the both of you getting called in to begin training for the olympics and before schedules start to pick up, you had a small private wedding in your hometown with just close friends and family, the ceremony kept under lock and key and tucked away from the public eye. it made it all the more intimate, more like a quiet gathering to celebrate your union than a grand spectacle, which suited you perfectly. the honeymoon hasn’t happened yet with the timing of everything, you’re saving it for post-season when you both can finally take a break and relax for a little while.
you won’t deny that there are some days where you wished that things were different, and that you could openly express your love for each other without scrutiny and attention being on you, but alas, that is to be expected as someone exposed to the public eye.
the olympics is your first public appearance as married individuals, not that anyone particularly cares about your status, their eyes instead zeroing in on kiyoomi and the chain around his neck carrying a shiny new silver band. it's safe to say that judging by the scowl on his face and the chatter buzzing around the front rows of stands as the team settles into their side of the court, his “mystery wife" is the new talk of the town.
when he comes over to you during timeout, his eyes meet yours bashfully as you hand him a bottle, fingers brushing against yours in an unspoken apology. you just smile and lightly pat his back as he turns to join the team huddle. there’s nothing to be sorry for, silly.
these little moments mean everything to you, even though it looks like nothing in the grand scheme of things. just being there with him and coming together with a shared passion even if it's in different fields of the broader spectrum of sport, fills you with a sense of happiness and content. watching him in his element and being able to support him on the sidelines through it all, you'd never trade that for the world.
and as you’re sitting at the edge of your seat with your bum hanging on for dear life, you lean forward with your hands pressed together, the top of your index fingers resting against the tip of your nose like a pseudo prayer. match point.
it feels like you’re watching the longest rally of your life and like a bad habit, your knee begins bouncing up and down in your nervousness and anticipation. iwaizumi too, is so engrossed in the play at hand that he doesn’t notice, or maybe he just doesn’t care enough in this moment to stop you with his usual slap to your thigh and a chiding comment, “stop it, even my grandma back in sendai can feel the tremours from your goddamn knees.”
with bated breath, you watch kageyama tosses one beautiful arc of a set to kiyoomi as he leaps into the air and makes contact with the ball.
with a powerful spike, he is a force to be reckoned with, sending the ball home as the opponents dive to save it, their arms hands and fingers stretching out in a last ditch attempt to connect and rescue the point, but to no avail. the ball lands with a harsh thud and as he stands tall above their groveling, the whistle blows and the crowds roar.
your arms instinctively raise in a cheer, and in the next moment they’re closed over your mouth, tears pricking your eyes as you stumble over your feet and scramble to get up. as the team rushes towards him with shouts of celebration, his eyes immediately dart in your direction, softening as he sees you dashing over. with knowing smirks and crescent moons for eyes, the boys follow his line of sight and give him firm slaps on the back, parting the hoard for you and giving just enough room for him to uncharacteristically swoop you up in his arms and crash his lips into yours, all caution thrown to the wind.
all the noise halts and time stands still, everything fades away and nothing else in the world matters in the moment, not the people, not the cameras, just the overwhelming rush of joy and pride, and love, oh love, swelling from the depths of your chest and your heart bursting at its seams.
your senses flood with everything kiyoomi, from the way the sweaty strands of his hair at the back of his neck feel on your fingertips, his cheeks dampening from your tears, the nudge of his nose against yours, and the press of his smile on your locked lips. he breathes out and you breathe him in, letting all of his being rest in the room in your heart saved specially for him, seeping into every corner of your soul.
when you inevitably pull apart for air, the current predicament doesn't exactly click in your mind just yet until he grabs your hand and pulls you into his side, shielding you from the onslaught of reporters and press looking to get a fresh scoop on the hottest piece of news. with blown out eyes, you look at him in a daze and disbelief, did that really just happen?
the smug smirk on his face says it all.
the matching silver bands on your finger and hanging around his neck, it was always there. for the longest time it was your little secret, and now a declaration of love and devotion — not even a shiny new gold medal could compare.
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© yogurtkags. please do not repost, plagiarise, or translate my work.
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ozzgin · 8 months ago
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Omg i love your Yandere serial killer with a split persona so much 😭😭, can you do more headcanon about him?? Like does he aware of his other persona seeing reader kinda scared to talk to him normally thank u
Yandere! Serial Killer Scenarios
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Featuring the kind, quiet man who has no idea why you look at him with terror in your eyes. This time with an official character design!
Content: female reader, mentions of murder, obsessive behavior, horror, dubious/non-consent
[Main Story] | [More original works]
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You only attempted to escape once.
His frequent warnings had begun to wear off, and your mind dared to wander towards hope. One day, during his evening walk, you ran to your bedroom and pulled out a train ticket you'd hidden earlier inside a drawer. The small piece of paper weighed heavy in your hand. Come, now, you scolded yourself. It was weeks of careful planning: anticipating his schedule, erasing your tracks, preparing the essentials. You could already smell the worn leather seats, and hear the jarring whistle of departure. Then you'd be far away from this maniac, all but a terrible memory to be locked away.
There was no time for hesitation. You grabbed a small bag and sped towards the station, frequently looking over your shoulder, muttering silent prayers. Once you made it to your compartment, you exhaled in relief. A relief you hadn't felt in months, washing over your body and relaxing your tense muscles. You climbed the stairs, and searched for your seat. Has someone misread their ticket? You found your spot occupied by a stranger.
"What did I tell you about running away?" his deep voice echoed across the empty hall.
The walk back home was silent. You were convinced this was your end. You'd arrive at the house, and he'd cut you into pieces. Your lips curled in a horrified grimace, mind flooded with foreign feelings: your nails plucked apart with pliers, a burning sting after each detachment. The roots of your teeth grinding and screeching within the bone of your jaw, until all that's left is a fleshy, gaping wound. Plop, plop, as each little souvenir falls into the jar.
He slammed the door shut and stared you down. You looked at the floor, but all you could see were the grimy ID cards of all the women who never made it out of this damned house. You were next.
His large hand ruffled your hair, and you glanced up in disbelief.
"This stays between us. Mother better not hear that her soon-to-be daughter in law tried to run away. Especially now that she's warmed up to you. Are we clear?"
You nodded desperately. God, how pathetic of you. But being trapped was better than rotting underground like the rest of them. You just wanted to live.
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You can always tell whether it's him, or him. It's the silence. Or lack of, for that matter. He likes the quietness, the muffled ticking of the clock, the busy rattling in the kitchen, your laughs, your chatter. You'll sit together and listen to the rain, or read your books across from each other. There's no need for words, you know you can be at peace.
He likes music. When you hear the record player, you know it's your cue to perform. You exit your room - it's better if he doesn't call you down himself - and descend to the main area. The stairs creak louder, the wallpaper begins to yellow. It's almost as if the house ages with the music, and you tumble back in time.
He's been waiting for you, naturally. How's a man meant to spend his evenings, if not with his adored wife? He'll reach out for your hand, and invite you to a slow dance. Those are the worst moments. The tight, suffocating hold, his deranged stare drilling into your very soul, the whispered promises: that you're forever his, and you'll never find happiness anywhere else. He knows it. It's the same for him, really. Everything he's ever needed lies within your embrace.
Some days, the charade doesn't last long. You simply won't be in the mood to be kissed, to be stripped naked and fondled by his murderous hands. So you'll just pout and gaze ahead. It angers him terribly.
"Wretched whore. Do I look like a beggar?"
He'll shove you aside and make his way out, taking his tools with him. He hates asking for your affection and would rather take his anger out somewhere else. You know he won't hurt you, or force himself on you, which means someone else will have to pay for your disrespect. And yet, it's the only freedom you have around him - the privilege of refusing him and living to see the next day. The rest aren't as lucky. You'd rather not think too deeply about it.
My honey, I know With the dawn that you will be gone But tonight, you belong to me Just to little old me.
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What a bizarre thing, to harbor such hatred towards the one you love. You've never met anyone kinder. He's thoughtful, patient, caring. He knows everything about you and lives to serve you. He's your best friend and your lover. He's the one you want to marry one day. But he's also...well...him. And you can't have one without the other.
"No, Mother, it isn't tacky," he barks at the shattered mirror, adjusting your necklace. "And you know what? It's up to (Y/N) to decide if she wants to wear your wedding jewelry."
"It's nice", you respond curtly. You look into the empty reflection and nod. He likes it when you take his side in front of Mother.
"I knew you'd agree. We're a match made in Heaven, aren't we?" he smiles and zips up the old dress. You shiver: wearing a dead woman's gown was not part of your wedding plans. The corset is tightened, and you gasp. His hands are tense.
"I know he proposed to you. And what a stupid grin you had on your face when it happened! You never act like that around me."
He doesn't call me a bitch, for starters, you think to yourself. You shuffle on the bed, trying to loosen up the garment, but he swiftly pins you down onto the mattress.
"Not that it matters. Would you like to know why?" he inquires with a familiar glimmer of jealousy in his dilated pupils. "Because I'll always be your first. You know it, I know it. He never will.
At the end of the day, you belong to me."
To compete with oneself. Nonsense. Utter madness, all of it. The house; the drawer filled with gory trophies; the nightly talks with Mother dearest, whose bones have most likely turned to dust by now; the bloodied scalpels; the embrace of a man who fills you with warmth and terror.
You're part of it now.
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ellecdc · 3 months ago
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Legs-for-days Lupin
hockey player!Remus Lupin x team medic!reader who didn't account for Remus' shorts [1.3k words]
part 1 | part 2 | part 3
CW: fem!reader, guys teasing each other about their place of origin (all in good fun - shout out to Sweden and Russia), suggestive -> nothing happens in the fic but it's very clear what has taken place and readers mind strays to...less then polite places for a moment -> mature content, viewer discretion is advised
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It’s not that either of you had been keeping it a secret, per se, but rather that you were keeping it quiet. 
The league was aware. Or, at least they knew as much as they needed to know when you and Remus requested that his on-going care be transferred to one of the other league doctors citing a conflict of interest in your own care of the athlete. 
So they may not know, but… they knew.
The coach knew and the PT knew as well as a few other members of the coaching staff, but the equipment manager, the media team, and the general manager didn’t know.
Oh, and the team.
The team didn’t know either. 
You had worried that it would be hard, especially when things were still so new between the two of you, spending extended periods of time in each other’s company without exchanging heated gazes or hungry exchanges. But, after years of working in medicine, you found it was very easy to put your team scrubs on and see Remus as just another one of the boys you were treating - an athlete you were responsible for, a body to heal.
Out of those scrubs though? Well, that was a completely different story. 
Turns out you should have been a little more careful in your shared time together sans scrubs. 
“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Hang the fuck on!” James shouted as he pulled his headphones away from his ears to rest on his neck, jumping to place one foot on either side of the treadmill before hitting the stop button. 
You - alert in the gym should anyone get hurt - uncrossed your legs and sat at attention, concerned that you might be needed 
“What the fuck is that, Lupin?” He continued with a breathy laugh, causing Remus to remove his own headphones and cock an eyebrow at his teammate. 
“Fuckin’ Potter, always chirpin’.” Benji snickered to Sirius who snorted in return.
“What’re you on about now, Cap?” Sirius called over. 
“Look at Lupin’s leg!” He nearly shrilled, causing Benji to cackle.
“Spend a lot of time oggling your teammate’s legs, Potts?” Caradoc taunted as he slowed his stride on the treadmill next to James’ to a walk. 
“No, just Lupin’s. Can you blame him though? Fuckin’ look at them; they go on for days.” Benji called over, making a show of stretching his neck as if it was necessary to fully appreciate Remus’ legs, causing Remus to toss a balled up sweaty towel at him. 
“Fuck off, the lot of you.” Remus laughed at the same time James started sputtering.
“Look! On his thigh! He-”
“Chirst Potts, you’ve got it bad.” Wood interjected.
“- looks like he’s been mauled and fuck off, Wood!” James finished despite the interjection.
And, much to your horror, everyone did look at Remus’ thigh and now that you were too, you couldn’t even appreciate the well defined muscles from years of skating, cardio, and weight training, nor the way they shined a little with sweat from today’s workout, nor the way that he was sitting on the weight bench which caused those shorts - already a little short for a man with legs so long - to ride up sinfully further due to the fact that there was a well-defined and blatantly obvious love bite sucked into the soft skin of his inner thigh. 
“Holy shit! Did ya find yourself a baby shark or something, Loops? And why’d you let it so close to your crotch?” Benji called over causing everyone to hoot and holler at him. 
“Fuck off.” Remus laughed with a shake of his head as he tried to adjust his shorts in an attempt at some modesty - it was all for naught. 
“I didn’t even know you were seeing anyone! And damn, she’s gotta a fuckin’ mouth on her, eh?” Sirius added as he came to lean against the side of James’ treadmill in favour of his third set. 
“Okay, debate about whether or not you’re dating a vampire aside - blink twice if you need help - how’d you even find time to receive that hickey? We’ve been on the road for almost two weeks!” Potter grilled then, pausing for the briefest of moments should Remus need to blink, which he did not.
“None of your fuckin’ business, that’s how.” Remus commented dryly, though you could see his tongue in his cheek as he tried to suppress his own laughter. You thanked the hockey gods that the blush Remus was currently donning could be explained away by the exertion from his work out, but you knew it was different, you knew the signs. 
You knew exactly how far that blush went when you whispered how beautiful his eyes were. You knew the way his breath hitched - perhaps even which rib it got stuck under - when you brushed the pad of your thumb just below his waist band sitting on his hips. You knew the sound that left his kiss bruised lips when you sucked that mark into his leg; no shorts impeding your view of his very impressive body, watching the golden colour of his eyes eclipse behind pupil as he watched you reverently. 
You knew that blush probably went right to his chest, past the pretty pink nipples you’d also spent some time suc-
“No fuckin’ fair! How’s Loops finding chicks on the road? He doesn’t even go to the bars with us!” Benji whined. 
“Don’t have to.” Remus shrugged. “Look at me, I’m gorgeous.” 
“Oh, I’m sure the hotel staff were just throwing themselves at you.” Sirius sneered, though his smile proved it was all for show. 
“Just make sure not to do it in front of doc, yeah? Don’t wanna hurt her feelings.” James called as he turned his treadmill back on, causing you to choke on the drink of water you’d opted to take instead of either salivating over your - boyfriend? Could you call him that? - or chewing nervously at your lip, convinced that everyone was onto you.
“Why me?” You barely managed without shrieking. 
James offered you a casual shrug of his shoulders. “We all know you love the Swedes.” 
“I don’t love the Swedes.” You retorted, though a few of the guys were cackling at your expense.
“Everyone loves Swedes!” Isak Grönvall called excitedly. “Vänaste land uppå jord!” [a/n: lyric from the national anthem of Sweden, believe it translates to "loveliest land upon earth"]
“No.” Krum grunted then as he let the weights fall to the ground. “Everyone love Russia.”
“No one loves Russia, Krum.” Benji offered with faux consolation as he patted him roughly on the back.
“Why not? Is most good!” 
“We’re getting a little off track here.” James butt in. 
“I think you’ve gotta let it go cap, Loops just doesn’t like you like that.” Sirius stage whispered. “Besides, we’re going to make doc jealous if we keep pointing it out.”
“Black!” You barked. “Back to your machine; ten more reps.”
“Ten!?” 
“Ten.” You confirmed. 
Sirius looked just about ready to succumb to his fate before a flash of hope danced across his features. “Wait…you can’t tell me what to do in here, you’re not my coach!”
“Coach Moody?” You called calmly. 
“Ten more reps, Black.” Moody gruffed without looking up from the gameplay board in his hands. 
Sirius groaned.
“You too, Lupin.” 
The gym erupted into laughter. 
You tried to will your cheeks to cool down as you returned your focus to the notes in your hand when you felt your phone vibrate.
[Remus]: Are you happy, now? You’ve gotten me in trouble. 
You looked over in a way you hoped appeared casual to see Remus smirking down at his phone in his lap.
[You]: It’s not my fault at all. 
[Remus]: No? Whose fault is it then?
[You]: Yours! Those shorts are fuckin sinful.
[Remus]: So is that mouth of yours. 
You felt a sinful smirk take over your face.
[You]: Really? You didn’t seem to mind much last night. 
Remus shook his head and readjusted himself in his seat. 
[Remus]: No…I really, REALLY didn’t.
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spinningwebsandtales · 7 months ago
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Imagine Meeting Up With Ken After He's Moved Back To Japan
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Ken Sato X FemReader
Rating: G
Warnings: Reader has a slight panic attack, touch of angst, fluff
Word Count: 1.9k
(A/N:) I have never watched Ultraman in my life and I never planned on it honestly. But dang I saw the trailer ad for Ultraman Rising and they barely give you a glimpse of Ken but it was enough. I watched it. I loved it. And now I'm obsessed with Ken Sato. End of story. I have lots in my drafts I want to write for him so keep an eye out! But until next time happy reading! ~Countess
The day that Ken Sato had moved out of your life had been the saddest one you could remember. Being kids, the adults didn't see it as such a big deal but between the two of you, it seemed like the world had ended. You both kept in touch but it still didn't make the distance seem any shorter. Years passed by and video calls turned into phone calls. Phone calls turned into missed calls. Missed calls turned into text messages and even then that didn't last long. As you grew older you let the thought of seeing Kenji again go and then the pain finally eased. You never felt that ache again, until you watched the news.
Super star player Ken Sato returns to his home country and that is the day your little world stopped spinning. Your phone rang off the hook as your friends tried to call you.
"Did you hear," your friend screamed making you grimace, "Kenji is back!"
"Yep," you sighed. "It's all over the news. Hard to ignore it."
"You don't sound excited! I thought he was your best friend when you were kids?!"
"He was, but that was a long time ago and now he's this superstar baseball player. Why would he remember me when he's made it so big?"
"Don't make that excuse, you need to go see him. You'll see that he'll be just as happy to see you as you are of him."
Despite your better judgement and a long sleepless night, you found yourself at the Giant's stadium. You had tried Ken's house only for him to be gone. And despite feeling like a stalker you tried both day and night. When that didn't work you tried looking at the restaurant you both loved as kids, no luck there either. You knew the stadium would be your best bet but you didn't want to get carted off for trespassing or embarrass Ken by your being there. Maybe you were using those as excuses. Or maybe you were terrified by the face that he probably wouldn't remember you or he'd laugh in your face that you came crawling back. Your heart slammed against your chest and your breathing turned into panicked gasps. This was impossible, you didn't know why you even bothered.
Reporters began to exit the building, pushing you along as you tried to calm yourself. The chatter of the group was too much for you at the moment. You stepped away towards a quieter part of the stadium, not noticing that you were entering in a restricted part for players and managers only. The quiet helped calm you and now you finally realized where you were at.
"Miss are you lost," a man wearing a security uniformed approached you and your panic starting to rear it's ugly head once more.
"I'm sorry I got lost," you eased back, clinging tightly to your bag's strap.
"It happens," he said politely. "May I escort you back to the main entrance?"
"Yes please."
You deflated as you followed the security guard. It didn't seem like you were ever going to see your best friend ever again. Your heart broke and you refused to let yourself cry until you got home. You almost made it back to the hall where you got lost in the flood of reporters when a voice calling your name had you freezing. He couldn't possibly know it was you? After all this time did he really remember you so well?
"Kenji?"
"I thought it was you," he grinned.
You sucked in a breath at the sight of the boy you once knew. You could tell he was handsome on the TV screen but you weren't prepared for the sight in real life. Even as a kid you had a crush on him, you just didn't realize it until later. Your mom thought it had been cute but now you just felt embarrassment. With longer sleek black hair and eyes that were so dark they sucked you in. You stopped breathing for a second when he finally stood in front of you. His eyebrow raised, he bent over waving a hand in your face. Lean and tall, it was no wonder he was an amazing athlete.
"Hello," Ken stared leaning over. "You still with me?"
"It's so good to see you," you stumbled stepping back at the proximity. "I didn't know you were coming back so soon."
He grimaced, rubbing the back of his neck. "It wasn't planned honestly. Losing mom and dad needing me."
You gasped grabbing his arm, "Kenji I'm so sorry."
You glanced to your hand and you quickly let him go, cheeks flushing brightly.
"It's okay," his smile wavered. "Have to grow up sometime."
"But," you started feeling horrible.
"It was good seeing you again," Ken replied turning away. Though this was the first time you'd seen him in so long, he still had that same way of showing his true emotions. The slightly hunched shoulders and it felt like all the warmth suddenly left the room.
"Kenji wait," you yelled.
He turned keeping his hands in his pockets. The sorrow in his eyes had you blinking back tears and you knew it was time to be brave. He remembered you and though he wasn't the same person when he left, he was still your friend. Yeah a little taller, a little more selfish, a lot of ego (you couldn't deny he earned the right), and a lot more handsome, but Kenji Sato all the same.
"Wanna go get something to eat? Our old haunt is still open and I would love to treat you. I've," you paused. "I've missed you a lot actually."
Though it didn't quite reach his eyes Ken smiled, nodding in agreement, "I'd like that. But I'm buying, no arguments."
"Fine Mr. Super Baseball Man."
He laughed, "You haven't changed at all."
That was a little disappointing. You were hoping he'd at least see how much you've grown, while he was away.
The restaurant was busy, a line forming outside but you both didn't mind waiting. Kenji hadn't eaten here in years and if you were honest, you hadn't either. You tried once after he left and though the food always tasted delicious, it wasn't the same without him. You both were ushered in a little bit after arriving and after all this time the owners remembered you both. Ordering the same thing as you both did all those years ago, it didn't take long for contentment to ease between you both. Ken's foot tapped beneath the table and you could tell he was struggling.
"You don't have to talk if you don't want to," you spoke up. Not wanting him to feel like he had to do anything to make you comfortable. Though you still felt awkward, especially when fans made their way to him for pictures and autographs, you couldn't deny that it was still easy being around him.
"It's not that I don't want to," he groaned, now drumming his fingers on the table. "It's been forever. I should have so many things to tell you and I do! I just...I don't know where to begin."
"Start with baseball that seems to be going well," you grinned.
"Ha! You could say it is going decent," he nodded. "It was different in America, I'm curious to see how it's going to go being back home."
"I imagine so. Not going to lie though, home wasn't the same either when you left. It felt like I had to start all over, it was kind of terrifying."
"I'm sorry."
You touched his hand, "It's not your fault. We were both kids. Life changes, gets in the way, separates us from loved ones. We had no control over it, like we don't have much control over anything now. I'm glad you were able to find your way Kenji. I'm glad you made a life for yourself and I'm glad you got to follow your dream. I can tell how much baseball means to you."
Ken nodded a small smile pulling at his lips again, "It does. But I think this moment right here with you means more to me than baseball right now."
You flushed brightly. You weren't expecting a reply like that but it made you feel warm inside. You opened your mouth to reply, though unsure of what you could possibly say when your orders were set down before you. Saying thanks for the food and the chime of you both breaking chopsticks apart. Another peaceful silence stayed between you both as you both slurped noodles. True to his word Ken paid for the meal and you both left with full stomachs. Your heart felt lighter and you could have sworn you were walking on air. Glancing up at Ken, you caught him watching you intently.
"Something on your mind there Mr. Sato?"
Ken shook his head giving you a look like he'd tasted something bitter, "Please don't ever call me that again. Making me feel like my father over here."
You could tell things weren't good between Ken and his dad so you didn't pry. "Okay Kenji," you crooned making him shiver.
You didn't realize how you made him feel. When Ken saw you lost in the stadium, following that security guard his heart had skipped a beat. You two had always been close as children and even though you had stopped communicating for years, what he felt for you never waned. Having you here by his side, so close and yet still so far away, it felt like a dream. One he never wanted to wake from. With a soft touch, his fingers trailed down your arm leaving goosebumps in it's wake. You stared up at him, soft eyes taking in every bit of him. He never felt so naked or alive. He didn't stop until he found the back of your hand and still he slipped further, pointer stroking against your digits. Then he bit the bullet, taking your hand into his. He almost laughed at how much smaller your hand was compared to his, but he didn't want to ruin the moment. He squeezed tighter, careful not to hurt you in anyway. You stiffened at first, shocked at him being so bold. But you had to remember he was used to getting what he wanted.
"Would it be possible that we could do this again," he asked. "Maybe somewhere more formal?"
You nodded unable to speak. He kissed the back of your hand and you could have melted right then.
"I would like that very much Ken," your voice wobbled but you didn't let it keep you from speaking.
The answering smile had you in a puddle, the only thing keeping you upright was Kenji himself as you both started reminiscing. And now that some things had been brought out in the open, you both found yourselves talking a lot easier as the past few years passed by with every verbal exchange. You never felt so happy and all it took was for the game of baseball to bring back your best friend and you were ready to see what the future held in store.
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himbodruid · 22 days ago
Text
Merry Christmas, ya filthy animals 😘
Midnight Warmth
What happens when Sylus brings you to one of his remote countryside homes for a long weekend?
An expansion on the Midnight Warmth Secret Times
Sylus x Reader
Soft Sylus -:- he loses control -:- you get no sleep
Intended for readers 18+. MINORS DNI
Fic Master List
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
The week had been a long and hard one, full of ups and downs. Disappointment was high near the end when your team had failed to gather intel on illegal protocore operations, the lead having been bogus from the start.
You were just glad for four glorious days off of work, days you would get to spend with Sylus. The moment he learned you had a long weekend, he planned to whisk you away to one of the ranch houses he owned out in the middle of nowhere. Surrounded by nothing but fields and forests, you were excited to watch the frosty April sunrises with the horses grazing in the fields.
The moment you arrived at the house, though, exhaustion pulled at your bones. The drive had been longer than you expected, and the fact you had to navigate the winding country roads on your own didn’t help. Sylus told you he wouldn’t be there until later in the night, to make yourself comfortable and choose whichever room you wanted. He’d planned on making the drive with you, but something came up last minute that needed to be taken care of.
You hauled your bags in and plopped them right onto the floor of the first room you found. The decor was quite similar to Sylus’s base, but you didn’t really have time to take it in before you were sprawled across the bed and nodding off.
You awoke sometime later, then the sun had set, to Sylus gently brushing hair out of your face with the back of his knuckles. You smiled and stretched, allowing him to pull you up and into a hug. His riding leathers were still cool from the evening breeze, and you rubbed your face on the buttery leather surface
“Sorry I’m late, love,” he said. You didn’t even know how long you’d been asleep, but you were glad to be wrapped in his warm embrace all the same.
“It’s okay, you’re here now,” you say, sleep still evident in your voice. “I’ve missed you.”
His lips met the crown of your hair before he released you. He walked over and gathered your luggage, teasing you about how much you’d brought for a simple four day getaway. You defended yourself by claiming you had to be prepared for everything.
“Well, are you prepared to share a room with me, or did you mean to take this one?”
You could feel your face flush and you took a closer look at the room. A wall lined with everything music should have been your first clue, or even the beautiful console record player that was set up on an adjacent wall. That explained why the bedding held a faint hint of Sylus’s spicy scent and why you were lulled to sleep so quickly.
“Honestly, I just crashed in the first room I found. I can take a different room, it’s not a problem!”
You made to move towards your bags, but you were blocked by Sylus holding them away from you. Looking up at him, you quirked a brow in confusion. You made a grab at them again, only for him to take a step back.
“Oh, no, love. You chose this room and now it’s yours. It’s also your decision on if you want me to stay or if you want me elsewhere.”
This playfully mischievous side of Sylus had become more prominent the last couple of months, but his words still made you pause. At the base, you had your own rooms just a few doors down from Sylus, and any other dwelling he owned it was the same story. You’d snuck into his rooms more times than you could count, but…
“Could you…stay?” You asked timidly. You’d never fully shared a single space with him, and the bed was large enough to fit a horse between the two of you if really necessary. Sylus smiled that crooked half-smirk of his and gathered up your things once again. You plopped onto the bench at the foot of the bed, watching as he swiftly unpacked your luggage and put them away in the closet and dresser. It was such a domestic task that all you could do was watch dumbly as the universe’s most wanted criminal just…neatly folded or hung your clothes. Existential was too mild of a word for what you were feeling right then.
When he was done, he removed his jacket and also made sure to hang that in the large closet by the door. You didn’t realize you’d let your eyes trail down his broad back to his leather-clad ass until he turned around and chuckled. Your face flamed, and you quickly looked away.
“Come, Kitten, the cook should have something prepared for us by now.”
You were grateful that he didn’t tease you for getting caught staring. You couldn’t help it, though. His clothes were tailored to fit his athletic frame to perfection, almost like they were just painted on. The black shirt he wore was stretched taut across his shoulders and clung to him straight down to his narrow waist and hips. And those damnable leather pants that looked like they barely contained him with the zippered panels on each side of his- you shook yourself, forcing your eyes away from his ass again. His chuckle let you know that he was very well aware you were checking him out, but he chose not to comment.
Something must be wrong with you. Sure, he was an attractive man, but you’d never been so caught up in him to openly stare at him like that before. You were usually much more reserved, so you decided to blame it on the atmosphere and the idea of being relatively alone with him for the whole weekend. Or maybe you were just touch-starved and horny, not that you would ever admit to it.
Dinner held a vast array of food you loved, and you were suspicious that he called ahead to make sure everything was prepared to your exact liking. You chose not to press the matter, instead dancing happily at each delicious bite.
Dinner ended with Sylus teasing you about how you managed to stay so small while eating so much. You flexed your meager biceps at him, spouting some nonsense about being a hunter keeping you fit. It wasn’t fully a lie, but a lot of the job was desk work along with field work.
After dinner, Sylus took you on a quick tour of the main house, explaining that the property was actually a housing complex of people he employed to keep it running. A large barn also rested on the property, housing the finest horseflesh Sylus could find. His prized stallion, an Akhal-Teke, also resided there. You listened to his gravelly voice with rapt attention, adding things to your mental list of all the things you wanted to do.
Even through the excitement, you found yourself dozing off when you sat to watch a movie with Sylus in front of a crackling fire. He lounged on the chaise section of the sofa and your head rested in his lap. He bundled you in the soft throw blanket that lay across the back of the sofa. His large hand rested on your shoulder, letting his fingers play in your hair, and the feeling of safety was so immense that you had no qualms about napping.
The movie reached some sort of crescendo that startled you awake. You stretched, playing it off as though it hadn’t scared you. Turning your gaze upward, you saw Sylus watching you instead of the film. He sat with his arm resting on the sofa arm, cheek palmed, and a painfully tender expression on his face while he played with your hair.
“What?” He said with a smile, swirling a strand of your hair around a finger on his free hand. “You’re still awake?”
“Whaddya mean ‘still’? I was asleep but now it’s too loud,” you grumbled.
“You’re the one who asked me to put on a movie to help you fall asleep. And now you’re complaining it’s too loud?” He said with a chuckle, gently tugging that strand of hair. “You’re fussy, Kitten.”
You rolled your eyes with a smile and sat up, snuggling closer to him until the both of you were stretched on the chaise. His arm came around your shoulder and you rested your head against his chest. You listened to the steady thrum of his heart, an unnamed emotion swelling in your chest. You were really here, with him.
“Do you really like this place?” He murmured against your hair as he placed a gentle kiss there.
“Mhm, I’m so excited that I can’t sleep.” He chuckled at your statement, seeing as you had napped twice since arriving.
“You're spoiled rotten, that's for sure.”
“Only because you spoil me,” you say, scrunching your nose. You fall into companionable silence, still having no clue what was happening in the movie. It appeared to be some sort of vampire romance flick, but you couldn’t focus with the way his fingers drifted across your skin.
“Stay here a few more days,” he murmured, suddenly. “Extend your vacation. After all, it’s just you and me.”
You thought about it some, on the verge of agreeing. After all, you never took time off, and you had a hefty cache of vacation hours built up. You would have to call Captain Jenna and request more time, but that was a problem for tomorrow.
“We’ll see. But I already know what I wanna do tomorrow!”
“Tell me,” he said softly.
“You’re really gonna trust me with the planning?”
He chuckled, “I'll see what you’re planning first, and then decide whether I'll come.”
You shifted, turning so that you could face him a little more fully. The action put you in a position that may as well have you laying on him, and you could feel a blush slowly creep across your face. Sylus seemed unphased, though, watching you with half-lidded eyes.
“How about…picking strawberries?” You threw out the idea without much thought to the frost that still greeted the mornings.
“Sure, why not,” he said with a smile. “There’s a farm nearby.”
“You’ll have to teach me horseback riding, of course.” You were conscious of his face getting closer to yours, his hands chastely exploring you.
“Okay. We have a racetrack in the back,” he said. Something in his voice made you want to shiver. His tone dropped and his usual rasp was more noticeable. “What else?”
You mindlessly rattled off other things you wanted to do. You’d made a whole list before even leaving for the country, and admittedly it was…a lot.
Sylus chuckled and mirrored your thoughts. “That’s a lot.”
“I just…want to spend time with you. As much as I can.”
“Your words are coated in honey,” he rumbled. “But if you’re tired and complain halfway through…”
He rolled you halfway underneath him, so that you were now laid down on the chaise and he laid on his side beside you, propped up on an elbow with his head resting in his palm. He leaned in, caressing your cheek. “I wont accept that.”
You knew your face was flaming. You couldn’t help skirting your gaze from his eyes to those perfect cupid’s bow lips that hovered entirely too close. Huffing out a heated breath, you dragged the blanket over your head in embarrassment.
“Don’t hide under the blanket, Kitten.” He tugged at the blanket, and you let him pull it away from your face. “I remember everything you said.”
“I’m not hiding,” you said. Your voice was too bright and awkward, making the lie obvious. You cleared your throat before adding, “I’m going to sleep.”
“But your eyes are still open.” He flashed that devilish half-smirk that you loved. “Can you fall asleep while looking at my face?”
“Hmm. Maybe if you sleep with me.” The words escaped you before you could think about their meaning, and you were glad he seemingly chose to ignore it.
“Did you forget what time it is, hm? For me, the day has just begun.” He heaved a sigh, brushing a strand of hair out of your face. “Since you can’t fall asleep, I'll tell you a story.”
“A story?” You raised a brow and smiled. You rolled to lay on your side, giving him your full undivided attention. The crackling of the fire added to the ambiance of your shared intimacy, and you wouldn’t trade this moment for the world.
“It took place in this…old castle. Tuck yourself in, close your eyes,” he began. You pulled the blanket up and draped it over the both of you, and then you obediently closed your eyes. The lilting rumble of his voice would be enough to lull you to sleep any other time, but the air crackling between you felt too charged.
“Once upon a time, this castle was shrouded in a heavy fog. Every year, there would be a day when the fog disappeared. Only then can one truly see the castle.”
“Hmm, and how did you hear of this castle?” You opened your eyes, needing to see him as he told the story.
“An old man who used to live nearby told me about it,” he chuckled.
“Is this a true story?”
He quirked a brow at your absurdity, gifting you with another warm smile. “How am I supposed to know if the story’s real or make-believe?
“Anyway, a girl found herself lost in the woods. She was lucky to stumble upon the castle when the fog was gone. She knocked on the door.”
“And did a prince answer the door?” You could feel yourself getting lost in him and needed to ground yourself.
“I’m afraid not. Sorry,” he said. “The castle was empty, so the girl decided to live there. Then, one day, as she was getting ready to sleep, the fireplace suddenly roared to life.”
His sentence was punctuated by a shift in the fireplace and a series of crackling sparks being released. The sudden sound startled you and you gripped his hand.
“Why are you holding my hand so tightly,” he chuckled. “Relax. It’s not scary.”
You moved closer to him anyway and he chuckled.
“How is this not an excuse to cuddle me,” he teased.
“So what if it is,” you grumble in reply. “Just continue the story.”
“The girl took a deep breath, turned around and saw- Yes, the window was open.”
You scrunched up your nose at the unexpected turn. He grinned and played with your hair while watching the expressions play on your fact with rapt interest.
“You seem to be disappointed. I told you it wasn’t scary, what were you expecting?”
“I don’t know, maybe she’d see a vampire. Perfect for an old creepy castle surrounded by fog.” He was leaning into you and you were acutely aware of the heat his body radiated. You swallowed but found your throat dry.
“Hm, I guess that makes sense,” he murmured, bringing a strand of your hair to his nose. “The movie we were watching did the same thing. The girl had walked into a vampire’s castle. Hmmh, come to think of it…the vampire’s castle and this castle look similar.”
He pulled away slightly, his eyes darting around your face as you looked at him. “What are you thinking about?”
“You kinda look like a vampire,” you say with a mischievous smile.
“How so?” His hands roamed over you again, and it took effort to concentrate on his question.
“Well, you have pale skin and red eyes. And you seem to be…very active at night,” you murmur as you allow your hand to flatten against his neck. He moved his chin up a little, letting you explore him.
“I do sound like one when you put it that way. What else?”
You poked his cheek. “You also like to bully people.”
“Bully people? How does a vampire bully someone, exactly?” He leaned over you again, imposing and crowding your space. His lips hovered so close to yours in a silent threat, only proving your point.
“Like this?” He asked. His lips descended, and you leaned up to receive him, but his face diverted at the last second. Instead, he buried his face against your neck.
“Let me…sniff your neck.”
You let your head fall back and your hand that rested on his neck slid to the back of his head. Your gasp rose to mingle with the sounds of the fire.
“Mmmh,” he moaned. “Your scent…I want it.”
He pushed you back into the chaise, rolling on top of you. You became aware of every inch of him that touched you. His knee wedged between your thighs, and it took far more effort than you cared to admit to not rub yourself on him. Your arms wrapped around broad shoulders and your hands met at the back of his head to touch his feather soft silvery strands.
“I’ll just…nibble this,” he murmured against your neck before his tongue found your pulse. Teeth scraped against your skin and you couldn’t contain the gasp that escaped. You tilted your chin to give him better access. But then he pulled away.
“Is that it?” He asked, lowering his lips to capture yours for a moment. His thigh pressed more firmly into the apex of yours, and you couldn’t help but to suck your bottom lip between your teeth.
“Don’t bite your lip,” he growled. “Look me in the eye, answer me.”
You couldn’t answer him, you were far too focused on keeping your body still instead of squirming against him. His eyes left yours, searching out where he’d bitten you, looking to see if a mark rose there. A self-satisfied grin on his face told you there was one.
“Was I too rough? Is this what they call bullying?”
“You did it on purpose,” you complained half-heartedly.
“You’re the one who said I looked like a vampire,” he chuckled. “And in the movie, the girl got marked right…here.”
His finger brushed against the opposite side of your neck, tapping your thundering pulse with those damnably elegant fingers of his. Your breaths came in short bursts, his simple touches igniting your body. You thought you could feel his body reacting to yours, the length of him stiffening against your hip as he teased you.
“I want to leave a mark, too,” he murmured against your neck. And then he latched on, his mouth working at your skin in a way you knew would leave a hickey that would be visible for weeks. Your fingers tangled in his hair, the sensations of him sucking on your neck sending tremors through you. He pulled back and observed the purpling mark.
“Mmh. It’s still not enough,” he growled. He dipped his head again, using that hot mouth to create more marks on your neck and collarbone with satisfied growls. Your gasps and moans rose to mingle with his sounds. His hands roamed your torso, sneakily lifting your shirt until your breasts were bared to him.
“Why did you close your eyes? You’re finally going to bed?” He kissed the top swell of your breasts. “You don’t want to listen to my story anymore?”
Words wouldn’t come to you as he tugged down your bra so that he could swirl his tongue around your nipple.
“But, Kitten. I haven’t even gotten to the ending. The girl and the vampire were snuggled against each other.” He moved to tease your other breast. “It was a tranquil, midwinter day. Sitting in front of the fireplace…”
You gasped and arched into him when his teeth scraped against your nipple. Your every nerve was on fire and you wanted to push him away and pull him close at the same time. He crowded your every sense and you couldn’t get enough of him.
“Hold me,” he murmured, “but not too hard. Save your strength for later.”
His mouth traveled further down, completely contradicting his command. He left a trail of biting kisses, pausing every so often to leave a mark.
“I t-though you wanted to help me sleep by telling the story,” you said, mind overwhelmed by the sensations he was eliciting.
“Yeah…but now I regret it. You’re not sleepy at all.” His gaze flicked back up to yours and his hand slipped beneath the hem of your shorts, into your underwear and you sucked in a breath when his fingers slid through your slick folds. “I need to try something else.”
In one swift motion, he had your shorts and underwear stripped from you and you laid bare beneath him save for your sweater and bra. He perched your legs on his shoulders, settling his face between your legs when he looked up at you with a predatory gaze.
“We won't wake up in time to…pick…strawberries in the morning.” His tongue found your clit and you gasped. He worked at you, licking, sucking, biting until you couldn’t hold back the sounds of your pleasure any longer. When it felt like you were about to fall over the edge, he stopped with a dark chuckle.
“The strawberries aren’t ripe…yet,” he said. He lifted himself from you, and your sound of protest died on your lips when you realized it was so that he could strip his own clothes from his body. He fell over you once more, his lips crashing against yours in a punishing kiss.
“I still have to ‘show’ you the rest of the story. You’ll get everything you could ever ask for. Just. Be. Patient.”
Sylus slipped his hips between your thighs once more, and you could feel the length of him resting hot and heavy against your pelvis. His mouth crashed into yours, coaxing you open so that his tongue could tangle with yours. His satisfied growl rumbled in his chest and you could feel it reverberate against you. Your knees came up to bracket his torso and you rolled your hips so that his cock slid against your folds.
You gave a self-satisfied chuckle when he moaned at the feel of you slick and ready for him. He silenced your mirth by positioning the tip at your entrance. Slow, so slow, he pushed into you. Pulled out, pushed back in. A pattern that left you brainless and trembling until he was finally sunk into you to the hilt.
“Fuck, Kitten, you feel so damn good,” he moaned against your neck. Your reply was drowned by a moan of your own when he pulled out only slightly and then slammed back into place. His cock dragged so deliciously against your walls, you could feel your climax building before he’d even done much.
He maintained that torturously slow pace, working you into a mess with his tongue and his hips. With every slow removal of his cock, he ground himself into you when pushed back in. You clenched around him automatically, as if your body didn’t want to let him leave your body.
“S-Sylus,” you whimpered into his mouth. He growled in response, his hips jerking forward.
“Again,” he said. At your sound of confusion, he added, “say my name again, Kitten.”
“Sylus,” you moaned against his neck. The sound of your desperation seemed to goad him on and he slammed into you.
“Again,” he commanded. He was getting rough, but your heart thundered with the excitement of him losing control.
“Sylus!” You cried, clinging to him as he plundered you.
“Fuck,” he grunted, his pace picking up until the lewd sounds of your bodies joining rose with the crescendo of your moans. Your nails dug into his back as the last remnants of his control snapped and he relentlessly pounded into you. His hand gripped the back of the couch, the other one biting into your hip to give him leverage.
“Sylus,” you breathed, caressing his cheek with one hand and grasping his bicep with the other. He tilted his face into your touch, moaning explicitly against your palm with his eyes clenched shut. He was lost to the sensations of your body, to the sounds you made squirming beneath him, down to the scent of your love-making mixing with woodsmoke.
You hooked your ankles together at the back of his hips and a final clench of your walls around him was enough to throw him violently over the edge. He came with a guttural moan, a shout echoing into the room before he buried his face into your neck while he kept plunging into you with involuntary jerking movements. The twitching pulse of his cock flooding you with his cum brought you to the precipice with him. Your moans joined his as you clung desperately to him, your body milking him for every last drop.
He collapsed atop you, kissing and nuzzling every inch of skin that he could reach. His lips found yours in a tender kiss before he rested his forehead against yours. His eyes bounced between yours, an emotion you could only describe as love in his crimson gaze.
“Are you sleepy now?” He questioned with a cheeky grin. A grin you wiped off his face by clenching your walls on him. His cock twitched in anticipation inside you.
“Not in the least bit,” you replied, dragging his face back to yours.
As the night progressed, the two of you eventually made it to his bed, where you proceeded to explore each other further. You definitely did not get any sleep until the sun peeked over the distant mountains.
There was no way you’d be able to wake up in time to pick strawberries, even if they were in season.
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yuujispinkhair · 2 months ago
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I WANNA BE YOUR ENDGAME – Chapter 08
🏒❤️ A Hockey Romance feat. modern!Sukuna
Pairing: HockeyPlayer!Sukuna x Reader (female) Genre: College AU, Hockey AU, fluff + smut Playlist: I wanna be your Endgame Word Count: 5k Warnings: 18+, smut, cigarettes, alcohol, hockey injuries. Fuckbuddies to lovers. Reader is a creative writing student. Sukuna is an ice hockey player + history student. This story will have approximately 12 chapters. Minors don't interact. Header by me. Divider @/benkeibear
MASTERLIST
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You lie awake for hours. What happened between you and Sukuna during the private ice skating lesson? Didn't the whole thing in the hockey arena feel too romantic and too intimate for just fuckbuddies? Do friends with benefits really kiss each other like that?
You feel strangely smitten, almost shy, when you think about your evening with Sukuna. He was such a gentleman, making sure you didn't slip and fall on your ass, helping you exit the ice and make your way to the bench, where you could put on your shoes again. You left the arena, and Sukuna ruffled your hair and made a joking comment about how you had screeched when you set foot on the ice for the first time. And you playfully hit his biceps and told him to shut up. But your heart was racing, and your face felt too hot, and you are sure you giggled like some teenager with a big fat crush.
Sukuna walked you back to your dorm, and you teased each other the whole way. You asked Sukuna if he wanted to come in, and he agreed with his typical sexy smirk. You spent an hour in your bed, low groans and soft mewls and the rhythmical sound of your headboard banging against the wall filling your room.
And now, Sukuna is gone again, but your pillow still smells like him. And you stare at the ceiling, unable to get that kiss in the hockey arena out of your head. A kiss that felt too romantic, too tender.
You know your little private ice skating lesson wasn't a date, but why did it almost feel like one? If you are honest with yourself, the hour spent ice skating in Sukuna's arms felt nicer than any real date you had.
You wonder if Sukuna is lying awake, too? Does he ask himself the same questions you are asking yourself? You want to convince yourself he isn't aware of it. But there's a small voice in the back of your mind reminding you how good Sukuna is at analyzing things. You are sure he can see how close the two of you have become, too.
But does he care? Does he want more? Or is it just fun for him? You know Sukuna has that bad reputation that paints him as a fuckboy. But is he, though? The thing is that ever since the two of you started your little arrangement, Sukuna seems to only fuck one girl... and that girl is you. And then there are all those little things Yuuji says that sometimes sound like he is dropping hints about Sukuna possibly liking you as more than just a casual fuckbuddy.
"Oh shit."
You groan and pull your blanket over your face, hiding yourself even deeper in the comfort of your bed. The little hopeful spark and the butterflies in your stomach scare you. You know this feeling all too well, and you don't want it!
You told yourself you would get through college without the complications of romantic feelings. All love ever did was cause you heartbreak and pain. You swore off it after the disappointment that your ex-boyfriend was. You swore to yourself that you would just have fun when you go to college. Nothing serious. No relationship. No feelings. Just fun. And this fuckbuddies arrangement with Sukuna had seemed so perfect for what you wanted. But what now? What if you suddenly develop feelings for Sukuna?
You cannot let that happen. You have to fight it!
Get a fucking grip!
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You see Sukuna the next day, and you manage to act normal around him, ignoring the fluttery feeling in your stomach when he smirks at you and lets his large hand slowly trail down your arm to steal your heavy stack of books out of your hands and carry it for you to your classic literature classroom. He makes a comment about you obviously being too weak to carry it on your own while giving you one of his devilish looks, and you roll your eyes and yank the books out of his arms even though Sukuna already carried them all the way to the classroom.
You agree to meet him for lunch, and by the time the two of you have finished your meals and bickered playfully over all kinds of things, you feel better. More in control again. You can do this. You can continue this fuckbuddies thing with Sukuna without making things awkward. Even if his boyish smirk and those pretty, maroon eyes and mouth-watering muscles make your pulse race. It's fine. Sukuna is your friend. Just that. Just a very hot guy-friend who fucks your brains out anytime you feel like it.
It's perfect the way it is. You wouldn't want to risk losing this.
Sukuna asks you to see him after hockey practice, and you spend an hour in his bed that evening, moaning into his pillow and laughing against his buff biceps afterward when he lies next to you and shows you a funny video on his phone.
You steal a drag from Sukuna's cigarette that he smokes by his window, and he grins at you and pulls you into a kiss with that sexy, teasing tongue flick at the end before he tells you to be a good girl and go home to study for your classic literature course so you can join him in the top-grades-getter-league.
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It's Friday, and Nobara keeps bugging you about joining her for a night out at a popular club, claiming that you will get a bad case of FOMO if you don't come with her. You doubt her words, but you have to admit that maybe a girls' night with some dancing and some fancy drinks is exactly what you need to get your mind off a certain pink-haired hockey player, and so you laugh and tell her to help you pick an outfit.
Nobara was right about the club being amazing. You really have a lot of fun, sipping on some pastel-colored sweet cocktail and dancing and laughing with your dormmate, feeling as if this is the authentic college experience.
The club is a popular meeting spot for college students. You see so many familiar faces. And so, it should probably not come as a surprise when you see several hockey players. You try not to do it, but your gaze keeps wandering through the club, searching for one particular Tiger.
And you find him.
He is leaning casually against a pillar, laughing at something his brother is saying to him before Yuuji gets pulled onto the dancefloor by Todo. Sukuna stays where he is, lifting a bottle of some vodka mix drink to his lips and tilting his head back to gulp it down. His Adam's apple bops enticingly, making you involuntarily lick your lips.
You have stopped dancing, you realize. Too busy staring at Sukuna.
Damn, stop it!
You shake your head and laugh, grabbing Nobara's hand to spin her around, forcing yourself to get back into your little fun time with your friend. But even as you dance with her, your gaze keeps straying back to your fuckbuddy, who is still standing at the same spot.
Several hockey players gather around Sukuna, laughing, chatting, and drinking together. Tequila shots this time. It looks like the whole team is here tonight, maybe celebrating something. Sukuna hasn't spotted you yet, and you use that chance to let your eyes trail slowly over him.
He looks hot. He always does, of course. Tall, athletic, and handsome. The tight black t-shirt he is wearing shows off his well-defined muscles and sexy tattoos. The expression on his tattooed face is aloof and bored, making him probably look even more attractive to all the girls who are eyeing him. Sukuna is a challenge. The bad boy, who seems so hard to please. The tough guy who seems like he never smiles. But you have seen his smile and know how to get it out of him.
You are about to walk over to Sukuna to greet him, but you freeze up when you watch a pretty girl dance up to him, a seductive smile on her face. You feel your stomach clench anxiously. The girl gets on her tiptoes, a sugary smile on her beautiful face as she says something to Sukuna. Her hand sprawls over his pecs, her body leaning closer and closer to him.
But Sukuna shakes his head at her and plucks her hand off him with a cold sneer on his beautiful face. He points a long, tattooed finger at one of his teammates and steers the girl over to him.
And as fast as that strange feeling in your guts appeared, it is gone again, and instead, you catch yourself grinning from ear to ear.
And suddenly, that maroon gaze is on you. You draw in a sharp breath, staring back at Sukuna as the seconds tick by.
Sukuna's tattooed face lights up with a broad grin, and he pushes himself off the pillar he was leaning against. Your pulse is racing as you watch him walk over to you while Nobara is laughing. Sukuna stops in front of you, tall and sexy with that boyish smirk and looking so good in his tight black t-shirt and jeans.
"Hey, princess."
The words come out slightly slurred. You tilt your head to smile at him, noticing the somewhat unfocused look in his usually so sharp eyes. He is drunk, you realize. His grin turns into a lopsided smile, and somehow, it makes him look almost cute. Softer around the edges. He seemed so aloof a moment ago when he turned that girl down, but now he is all playful again when he reaches out to wrap his strong arms around your waist and pull you against him.
"Fuck, I'm glad you're here, too, princess. I was so fucking bored."
He jerks his chin at Nobara in a greeting, informing her with a smirk,
"I am stealing her for a while. Find someone else to dance with, Ginger. What about my brother? He is a good dancer. Get him before someone else does."
Nobara complains loudly, smacking Sukuna's biceps while telling him that hockey players suck in general and pink-haired ones in particular, but you can hear the smile in her voice, and she really half-walks, half-dances away from Sukuna and you, looking for another dance partner.
You chuckle softly as Sukuna pulls you to him, making you stumble into his firm body. You put your hands on Sukuna's abs to brace yourself, grinning up at him, your pulse fluttering at being so close to him. His body heat seeps through his shirt, and his firm abs move under your palms when he leans down to press a sloppy, wet kiss on your cheek,
"Come on, dance with me so Todo and the brat get off my dick and stop pestering me about dancing with them."
Sukuna pulls you with him to the middle of the dancefloor, where the rest of the hockey players are. You don't even have time to complain or feel embarrassed about your dancing skills because Sukuna's strong arms are wrapped so firmly around you that you can't really make any move on your own anyway. And the drinks you had make you tipsy enough to just go with it and laugh loudly as Sukuna grinds against you.
You find yourself relaxing, just having fun with Sukuna and his teammates, dancing dirty with Sukuna while singing along to the songs, and smiling when Sukuna grins at you. You wrap your hands around Sukuna's neck, letting him sway you from side to side, or press his tall, muscular body tightly against yours to grind against you slowly.
It seems only natural that the two of you kiss. Sloppy, drunk kisses that make you chuckle against Sukuna's lips, feeling a lot more intoxicated than you truly are. It feels exhilarating to dance and make out with him here in the middle of the club.
Sukuna's hands are all over you, running up and down your back and groping your ass. He slips his hands into the back pockets of your jeans and pulls you even closer to him, and you let your nails trail over his short undercut, smiling when it elicits a low growl from the back of Sukuna's throat.
He trails hot, wet kisses over your chin to your neck, and your breath hitches. It's new to be like this with Sukuna in public, but you can't deny how exciting it feels to have him all over you. Drunk Sukuna is clingy, you realize. He doesn't let you move away even a step. His large hands immediately squeeze your ass, pulling you to him again while his lips trail kisses over your neck and his sexy low voice murmurs in your ear,
"Need you, baby."
Your heart skips a beat. You know Sukuna is just drunk, and it means nothing, but you can't help but feel a fluttery tingle in your belly and chest at his words. You smile and grab Sukuna's chin, pulling him into another kiss to shut him up before he can say anything else that will make you spin out of control and that he might regret in the morning.
You weakly try to decline when Sukuna whispers in your ear that he wants you to go home with him. But he won't let go of you, clings to you, and kisses you all sweetly before he looks at you with a cute little pout that looks hilarious on his tattooed face. His voice is a bit thicker than usual, tongue heavy from the alcohol, making you wonder how many shots he had.
"Don't leave me alone, princess. Who knows what kind of trouble I will get into without my personal lucky charm by my side."
He keeps grinning at you and bugging you until you agree to leave with him, even if it is just to put him into bed. You let Sukuna put a muscular arm around your shoulders while his other arm pulls his twin brother to his side, and the three of you make your way outside while you hastily type a message to Nobara, telling her you are leaving with the twins.
You laugh when Sukuna throws his car keys to his brother, even in his drunk state, not forgetting about the beef he has with Yuuji over his beloved car,
"You drive, brat, but if you get even the tiniest scratch into my car, I will punch that stupid smile off your face."
You sit in the backseat with Sukuna while Yuuji drives. Or, more like, you lie in the backseat because Sukuna is on you the moment the car starts. You spend the whole drive with Sukuna lying half on top of you, kissing you deeply, with those intense deep tongue kisses that make you moan into his mouth and knead his firm ass through his tight jeans.
"So greedy, huh, princess? Don't worry, I'll fuck you until you scream my name." "Oh, shut up. You are drunk. I'll just tug you into bed and then leave." "Don't you dare leave me alone. I had some drinks, yeah, but I am perfectly fine. I can still fuck you better than any other could." He smirks at you with that challenging glint in his eyes, and your pussy throbs, your conviction wavering. Sukuna licks your neck slowly, teasingly, before he captures your lips in another deep kiss, successfully making you change your plans. Your hands slip under his shirt, caressing his hot, smooth skin, kneading his buff muscles, smiling when you hear him groan into the kiss. You go with Sukuna to his room and watch him take off his clothes, heart pounding in your chest as he turns around and beckons you over, his sexy muscles and tattoos unashamedly on display for you, and his gorgeous thick cock already half hard, waiting for you to stroke him to full hardness so you can have fun with him. Sukuna fucks you with sloppy, lazy strokes and those deep French kisses that make your pussy and your tummy flutter. You are gasping his name, wrapping your legs tightly around his narrow hips, mewling with every thrust, enjoying the drunk sex immensely. Sukuna fucks good, even when he had several drinks. The only thing that's different is that he is louder. And it's so sexy that it makes you clench around him, your eyes falling shut to bask in the sexy, loud moans falling from Sukuna's lips.
You really scream his name when you cum, and he moans yours when he follows you a few seconds later, hot thick cock throbbing inside you. Sukuna slumps on top of you afterward with a satisfied sigh, and you hum happily, caressing his neck and running your foot up and down his muscular calves and thighs.
You ask how late it is, but Sukuna doesn't answer.
"Sukuna?"
You push at Sukuna's broad shoulders only to hear a soft snore coming from him, realizing he fell asleep on top of you. You laugh and relax, letting a hand trail slowly up and down Sukuna's broad, muscular back, caressing him while he sleeps soundly on top of you.
Sukuna is heavy, but you let him sleep, grinning to yourself, feeling oddly happy, lying here under the hockey star. After a while, Sukuna rolls off you, mumbling softly in his sleep, but it's incoherent, and you can't make out any words. It makes you feel surprisingly soft for him.
You roll onto your side, too and press a soft kiss to Sukuna's tattooed shoulder, murmuring,
"Good night, Kuna. Sleep well."
You are about to get up to collect your clothes from Sukuna's bedroom floor to get dressed and then sneak out. But before you can get up, a large hand wraps around your arm, stopping you, pulling you back against Sukuna's warm, naked body.
"Stay."
Just a single word, mumbled in a hoarse, sleepy-sounding voice.
You tense up. Does Sukuna know what he is asking? He never before asked you to stay the night, and he also never stayed the whole night in your dorm. It feels like a line fuckbuddies shouldn't cross. On top of that, you don't think Sukuna is the type who lets someone sleep in his bed. You know he's already making a huge exception when it comes to you by taking you to his room and fucking you in his bed. Apparently, that's something Sukuna never did with his former hookups because he thought his room was none of their business. And now he wants you to sleep in his bed the whole night?
You know you are overthinking it, but you simply can't stop worrying that you are somehow taking advantage of Sukuna's drunk state. The sex wasn't the problem because your whole arrangement is based on having sex with each other. But this is something different. Sleeping in Sukuna's bed feels like a big fucking deal! If you sleep here, will he regret it in the morning? Will he be mad? You don't want to overstep a boundary.
"Sukuna..."
"Shhh, no talking. Just stay."
And as if he read your thoughts, he adds in that slightly slurred voice,
"I swear I won't regret it in the morning. Stay. I'll even make you breakfast."
You chuckle softly and close your mouth again, not trying to argue anymore, nor do you want to. You smile and snuggle back against Sukuna's tall, warm body, sighing when his strong arms tighten around you, and he buries his face in your neck, instantly starting to snore again, sounding so cute that it makes you grin from ear to ear. The bad boy star player all cuddly and tame.
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Even after your night in Sukuna's bed and the morning after, when he made breakfast for you just like he promised, you tell yourself you can just stay friends with benefits with him.
Nobara tries to rile you up, teases you endlessly, and tries to get you to admit you have feelings for Sukuna. But you turn her down anytime, adamantly declaring you only want him as a friend. A friend who is very good in bed and who you can have sex with any time the two of you feel like it.
You think if you just say it often enough, it will be true. You will be able to convince yourself you have everything under control.
And then the accident happens.
You're in your usual spot in the stands, watching the hockey game, cheering and laughing. The mood in the arena is ecstatic because it looks like the Tigers overcame their loss two weeks ago.
You hold your breath in giddy anticipation as Sukuna steals the puck from a rival player and speeds across the ice, his gaze on the goal ahead. His playstyle is high-speed and brutal, as always. It's sexy to watch. Until two rival players throw themselves in Sukuna's way.
You gasp loudly as Sukuna crashes full speed into the two players. All three go down, slamming hard into the ice with a heavy thud and the loud clatter of their hockey sticks skittering across the ice.
You are on your feet before you even notice it, a hand pressed over your mouth, staring wide-eyed at the ice where Sukuna is lying in a pile with the players he crashed into. The whole arena is yelling in shock because their star player went down, but you only hear it as a far-away noise because the blood in your ears is rushing much too loudly as your heart races fearfully.
What is going on? Why is Sukuna not getting up? You see the other jersey with the Itadori name speeding towards the scene. Yuuji pulls one of the rival players off his brother while yelling something you can't hear. He instantly gets attacked by several other players, but Yuuji fights back angrily, punching them and pushing them away from Sukuna.
Sukuna, who is still lying facedown on the ice. He isn't moving. Panic threatens to drown you, and before you know what you're doing, you start running and pushing your way through the crowd. Nobara is yelling your name, but you don't stop to wait for her.
You feel sick to your stomach. Your heart is pounding fearfully in your chest as you stop in front of the plexiglass, pressing your hands against the cold glass. Your anxious breath fogs up the glass as you watch the whole team and the team medic rush to Sukuna, who is still knocked out.
Or worse.
Tears are gathering in your eyes, and you feel a sob finding its way out of your mouth.
Please let him be okay! Please let him be okay! I never even told him how much I like him!
That's when you see Sukuna make a slight movement, and you huff a shaky sigh of relief.
The team medic is saying something to him, and Sukuna nods softly. You press yourself anxiously against the plexiglass, watching as the doc carefully pulls Sukuna's helmet off.
Yuuji and Todo help lift Sukuna onto a stretcher under the anxious gazes of the whole arena, which is filled with fearful silence.
You are still pressed against the plexiglass, watching as they carry Sukuna off the ice. Sukuna's eyes meet your worried gaze as they carry him past you. He lifts his head slightly, looking at you with a dazed expression. A dreamy look crosses over his tattooed face, and to your surprise, he smiles at you even as his maroon eyes seem unfocused and caught in some daydream.
Sukuna smiles a dreamy little smile at you while his lips move. You can't hear what he says, but you think you can read his lips, and what they murmur is something like "angel".
You stare after him, stunned, even when the stretcher is already getting carried to the back of the arena, away from your gaze.
The game continues, but the Tigers are out of it. The shock of seeing their star player get knocked out seems to sit in their bones. The cheerful and excited mood in the arena has dimmed almost completely. You bite your nails nervously as you stand at the boards, watching the game but not really seeing anything, too lost in your thoughts and worrying about Sukuna.
He was so fast when he crashed into those two players, and he seemed so out of it when they carried him off the ice. You were relieved to see him conscious again, but the shock still makes a painful knot remain in your stomach.
You practically flee from the rink once the game is finally over. But you cannot even consider the idea of going back to your dorm. Nobara walks up to you, reaching out to pat your back.
"Hey, I'm sure he is alright. That thick head won't crack from a bit of ice."
You smile weakly at her, knowing this is her being nice and sympathetic, but you still tell her,
"I'll wait here. Maybe I can talk to Yuuji."
"Okay, you do that. Let me know if Kirby Boy is okay."
You loiter around the lobby, waiting impatiently for a sign of pink hair. When Yuuji finally walks toward you, you hurry over to him with a fearfully racing pulse.
"Is he okay?"
Yuuji smiles that sweet, reassuring sunshine smile at you and nods,
"Yeah. He scared me, too. But he just has a concussion."
"A concussion?"
You stare at Yuuji worriedly, but he laughs softly and rubs your arm,
"It's no big deal. I get one almost every season. Kuna will be fine, don't worry. He just needs to rest for a day, or our coach will kill him."
You huff, feeling like Yuuji is downplaying it, or maybe this is really the way the hockey guys are. But his reassurance makes you relax anyway.
Yuuji cocks his head,
"I'm heading to our dorm to get the car because they won't let Sukuna walk home. Do you want to come with me?"
You nod and quickly hurry after Sukuna's twin brother.
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When you finally see Sukuna after his accident, you curse loudly.
He is sitting on an examination table in the first aid room in the back of the arena, in his sweatpants and Nikes and the black compression shirt he always wears under his hockey jersey. His pink hair is ruffled, and he still looks as dazed as when they carried him off the ice. A dark blue bruise is already forming around his right eye.
Your heart clenches at the sight, and you find yourself hurrying over to Sukuna and hugging him lightly before you can stop yourself.
"Oh god, are you okay?"
You pull away a bit to look at him with big, worried eyes while you caress his biceps gently, afraid to hurt him if you touch him more firmly. As if the big, broad hockey player is a fragile porcelain doll. But you can't think rationally at the moment. All you see is that Sukuna is injured, and it triggers something in you, making you feel all protective and worried over him. And scared. So scared to lose him.
But Sukuna laughs softly and smirks at you. It's a bit crooked and a bit slower than usual, but it manages to calm you down regardless. A large, tattooed hand comes up to rest on your back.
"I'm fine, princess."
But you see how Sukuna can't seem to focus his gaze on you and how he squints his eyes against the bright neon light in the small room. Even if Yuuji hadn't told you about Sukuna's concussion, you would have figured it out by now. He belongs in bed, in his dark room with the curtains closed and lots of rest.
Luckily, Yuuji is already by his brother's side, pulling him up.
"Come on, let's get you home."
You help Yuuji, the two of you taking Sukuna in your middle and leading him slowly to the car. He complains all the way about how he can walk on his own and that he doesn't want Yuuji to wreck his car. You roll your eyes, but at least Sukuna seems to be halfway okay if he can talk like that.
You sit with Sukuna in the back of the car again. Not making out this time, but instead holding his large hand in yours and watching him worriedly, checking if he is still okay.
Once you are in Sukuna's room, you help him take off his tight compression shirt and sweatpants before telling him to get into his bed. He is a good boy for once and does as you say, lying down and letting you pull his blanket over him.
Sukuna looks up at you with that same dazed smile he had in the arena when they carried him past you and he thought you were an angel. It's an expression that seems so foreign on his face that it instantly makes worry flare up in your chest again.
Your decision is made at that moment. You grab the hem of your sweater, pull it off, and slip out of your jeans, crawling into bed to join Sukuna under his blanket,
"I'm staying. I don't think you should be alone right now."
Sukuna laughs softly, but his muscular arm wraps around you immediately and pulls you against his side. You sigh and snuggle against Sukuna, placing a hand on his naked chest, feeling his warm skin and his heartbeat, which is strangely reassuring.
Sukuna's low voice sounds tired but nonetheless smug when he murmurs,
"You're really worried about me, huh, princess? That's so cute."
"You were knocked out. Of course, I am worried. If you had seen the expression on your face when they carried you off the ice, you would have been worried, too!"
"Shhh, it's okay, princess. I'm just teasing you."
Sukuna's large hand lands on yours, holding it in place right there on his chest, his thumb caressing the back of your hand as he adds in a low voice full of amusement,
"I should get injured more often. I quite like it when you get all scared for me and dote on me like that."
"Oh, stop it. You are such an idiot. And don't you dare get into trouble!"
But Sukuna just laughs that raspy low laugh as you add firmly,
"You should get some sleep now. The doc and your coach said you should rest."
"Yeah, yeah, I'm on it."
And Sukuna really drifts off to sleep just a few minutes later, his body and brain obviously exhausted and in dire need of rest. You, on the other hand, can't find sleep for a long time.
You lie awake in Sukuna's bed, your palm resting on his chest, fingers sprawled over his defined buff pecs, feeling his heartbeat and listening to his soft breathing. The earlier anxiety has left your body now that you know Sukuna will be okay. But something else is keeping your mind busy.
You fucked up. You have a big problem, you realize.
Because what Sukuna's little accident clearly showed you is that he means a lot more to you than you planned.
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I AM SO WEAK FOR HIM!! 😭 Tipsy Sukuna made me smile so much while writing 😍 He is so clingy and cute. "Need you, baby." I would have MELTED!! Did you feel protective over injured Kuna, too? I wouldn't leave his side either 😭 Thank you so much for reading the new chapter! I am so glad that I finally had time to post it. I missed our fave hockey player so much. I hope you enjoyed the chapter! Comments and reblogs would be very sweet. In Chapter 09, we will see Reader accepting her feelings + there will be jealous!Reader and jealous!Sukuna. And we will finally also see Sukuna's POV ;)
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