#skate smut

[chimcess]

⮞ Teaser Pairing: Jungkook x Reader Other Tags: Hockey Player!Jungkook, Figure Skater!Reader, Hockey Player!Taehyung, Hockey Player!Jimin, Coach!Yoongi, Hockey Player!Namjoon, Hockey Player!Hoseok, Figure Skater!Jin, Genre: Hockey!AU, Figure Skating!AU, Olympic!AU, Strangers to Friends to Lovers, Self-Discovery, Fluff, Angst, Eventual Smut, Slow Burn Drop Date: 01/20/2025 Summary: Y/N Y/L/N has always been destined for greatness as a competitive figure skater, her dreams of the Olympics sparkling like the ice beneath her blades. But when a devastating injury sidelines her, those dreams seem to melt away. Just when she feels lost, she unexpectedly meets Jeon Jungkook, a talented NHL hockey player.

I never used to think about what came after. Why would I? It felt pointless, like trying to guess the end of a novel when you’re still tangled in the middle. Every chapter rushing by, barely letting you catch your breath. Sometimes, life dangled a dream so vivid, so close, you could almost feel it in your hands. But right when you thought you had it? That’s when life reminded you—pages stop turning. Lights flick off. And suddenly, you’re back in the grind, stuck right where you started.

Normal? No chance. I wouldn’t recognize normal if it jumped out of the shadows and hit me. Normal was for people who punched clocks and sipped lukewarm coffee in beige cubicles. My mornings started when the world was still dark—lacing up my skates, the cold air biting at my face. Stretch until the pain dulled, practice until my routines were burned into my mind like a broken record. The rink smelled like sweat, frost, and desperation, clinging to me as I chased that perfect moment, day in and day out.

That was my life. Until it wasn’t.

From the moment I took my first steps, the ice had been my escape. My personal sanctuary. Each time my skates touched the frozen surface, electricity sparked through me, alive in my bones. My mom, Emily, she saw it first. She recognized that fire in me and latched on, pulling me headfirst into the competitive skating world. She wasn’t just supportive—she was relentless, like a storm barreling down on me, pushing me to be perfect. To her, maybe that was all that mattered.

People whispered behind her back, saying she was living vicariously through me, chasing dreams she’d lost. But I didn’t resent her for it. Her ambition, fierce and all-consuming, burned like a fire. It kept me warm—even when it scorched me. It wasn’t the trophies or the standing ovations that drove me. It was the ice itself. Out there, I wasn’t just a name on a roster. I was free.

Emily had been a skater once, too. But life, cruel and chaotic, had other plans. Her dreams fizzled out, lost somewhere between time and circumstance. When she got pregnant with me, she married my dad, Jim, and watched her ambitions wither like dead leaves. Year by year, regret settled in, until all she had left was me—and the ice. I became her second chance.

She met Jim when she was still a bright-eyed girl in a small town, dreaming big. He came to Michigan for police training; she was restless, yearning for more. They fell in love—or something close to it. Soon enough, I came along, and after a quick courthouse wedding, our lives unraveled. Emily and I left Michigan for Colorado, chasing skating dreams. Jim drifted back to Olympia, Washington, sinking into his routine like it was quicksand.

I became the bridge between them, constantly tugged between my dad’s predictable world and my mom’s fierce drive. Stability—something I longed for—was never in the cards. Emily hated Michigan, so we stayed away. Jim became less of a father and more of a ghost.

The crackle of the intercom yanked me from my thoughts. My knee throbbed, a bitter reminder.

“Ladies and gentlemen, this is your captain. We’re starting our descent into Detroit, where it’s currently five-eighteen p.m., and a frigid fifteen degrees Fahrenheit. Please secure your belongings.”

Michigan. I was back, but it didn’t feel like home. It hadn’t for years. And yet, here I was. Family wasn’t a refuge—not with Jim. He felt more like a stranger now, a shadow of someone I used to know. The home we once had? Long gone.

Monday, I’d meet with Dr. Jeon. People swore he was the best, but deep down, I already knew none of it mattered. The moment my skate hit that rough patch of ice, when my body twisted and the world flipped upside down, I knew—my skating days were over.

I could still see it. The rink, bathed in soft afternoon light, the sound of *Swan Lake* floating through the air. I wasn’t competing that day, just skating for the sheer joy of it. Emily and my coach were in the bleachers, discussing my next routine. I built up speed, heading into a fan spiral, when it happened. My blade caught. My leg buckled. I hit the ice hard. Everything went dark.

The plane’s landing gear screeched, snapping me back to the present. My heart raced, the memory fading like smoke. As the plane stopped, passengers scrambled for their bags. I waited, letting them pass, before grabbing my things. The crutches in my hands were cold, unfamiliar. I used to glide effortlessly across the ice, and now, here I was—struggling just to stay upright on solid ground.

At baggage claim, I stared at the mountain of luggage, feeling the weight of it all sink in. How was I supposed to manage with no free hands?

“You need a hand?”

The voice startled me. I turned and saw him—tall, with warm brown eyes that somehow felt like they saw right through me. Before I could respond, someone bumped into me, and my crutch clattered to the floor. I wobbled, reaching out to steady myself, but he was faster. He caught me.

For a moment, the noise, the crowd, everything blurred. It was just us, frozen in time.

“You alright?” His voice was soft, steady, his hands still gripping my arms. I nodded, heat flushing my face as I pulled away.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Thanks.” I muttered. He bent down, picking up my crutch. As he handed it back, his eyes lingered on me, not with pity, but with something else. Understanding, maybe.

“No problem.” His smile was easy, casual, but there was something behind it, like he had more to say.

Around us, life resumed its frantic pace—people rushing by, voices bouncing off the airport’s high ceilings. But for just a second longer, it was still only us.

“Need help with your bags?” he asked, glancing at the heap of luggage. 

I hesitated, my pride prickling. “I’ve got it,” I said, even though I clearly didn’t. My knee throbbed in protest.

He didn’t push. Just smiled, unbothered, and shrugged. “Alright. But it’s no trouble if you change your mind.”

As I shifted my weight, feeling the twinge in my leg, I sighed. “Okay, yeah, I could use some help.” The words tasted like defeat, but he didn’t seem to notice.

He easily grabbed my suitcase, balancing my smaller bag on top. I clung to my messenger bag, determined to carry something myself.

"Is someone picking you up?" he asked as we walked toward the sliding glass doors, the cold Michigan air sneaking in like a thief in the night.

"No, I'll just grab a cab," I said, weaving through the crowd. His presence next to me felt steady, comforting, like a life raft I didn’t even know I needed. 

“I’ve got my car in the overnight lot,” he offered casually, like it was no big deal. “I could give you a ride if you want.”

For a moment, I hesitated, caught off guard by the offer. “No, it’s okay,” I said, almost too quickly. “A cab’s fine.” But something shifted in his face—just for a second. Disappointment? Or was that just my imagination?

We stepped outside, and the cold hit me like a slap, sharp and biting. I cursed under my breath for not grabbing my gloves. 

He noticed, his lips quirking up in a knowing smile. “Forgot what Michigan feels like in January?”

“Yeah,” I muttered, pulling my coat tighter. “Something like that.” I should’ve been used to it by now. I grew up on ice, for God’s sake. But standing there in the freezing wind felt different, like the cold wasn’t just outside—it was creeping inside me, gnawing at the edges of something deeper.

“So, where were you before this?” he asked, his curiosity genuine, his breath hanging in the air like smoke.

“Nevada. Before that, Colorado. We moved around a lot.” I don’t even know why I was telling him this. I didn’t even know his name.

“We?” He raised an eyebrow, the question soft, but pointed.

“Me and my mom,” I said, my voice quieter now. “She’s never been one to stay put. Wherever she went, I followed.”

He nodded, like he understood more than he should. “A modern-day nomad. Sounds... exhausting.”

I let out a small laugh, more out of habit than anything else. “Yeah, it can be.” But there was something easy about him, something that made this whole conversation feel less strange, less fleeting.

“You staying here for a while?” he asked, his dark eyes locking with mine, the cold forgotten for a moment.

“For the foreseeable future,” I replied, surprising myself with how easily the words slipped out.

“Good to know.” His voice softened, like he was letting me in on some secret only we shared. That crooked smile crept back, and I felt my pulse quicken again. He had no idea what he was doing to me.

I bit my lip, trying to steady the rush of nerves rising in my chest. What was I even doing? Standing here, flirting with a stranger in the dead of winter? This wasn’t real life—it was the stuff of daydreams. But somehow, with him, it felt real. Almost too real.

“Maybe I’ll see you around,” he said, his hand lifting to ruffle his hair again. The messy strands fell back into place like he didn’t care—like he knew exactly how disheveled he looked and leaned into it.

“Yeah, maybe,” I said, though I wasn’t sure I believed it. The airport, the cold wind—it all seemed to fade away, leaving just us in this strange, fleeting moment.

“You live nearby?” I asked, even though I knew I should’ve been hopping into a cab by now, getting out of this freezing wind and back to whatever was left of my life.

“Detroit,” he said, his breath fogging in the air like a ghost of something lost.

“Me too,” I said, a little too quickly. “Just moved there, actually.”

“Downtown?” He asked it casually, but his eyes were sharp, as if my answer might mean more than I realized.

“Royal Oak,” I said, nodding. “The old houses there... they’re beautiful.”

“They are,” he agreed, and there was something in the way he said it, like he was noticing things I didn’t even realize I was showing. His gaze flicked between my eyes and my lips, and for a moment, the air between us stretched thin, a fragile thread pulling us closer until a sharp gust of wind snapped it, jolting me back to reality.

"Welcome to Michigan," he said with a laugh, his voice warm against the icy air. Without warning, he reached down and took my bare hands in his. The warmth of his touch jolted through me, electric, racing straight to my core. For a second, I swore the ground shifted beneath us. Something unspoken buzzed between our hands.

“We should get you a cab,” he said, glancing down at my frozen fingers, his expression softening with concern. “You’re not exactly dressed for this weather.”

"Yeah, I probably should’ve planned better,” I admitted with a laugh, still caught up in the warmth of his hands, the way they made everything else feel just a little less cold. 

He waved down a cab with the ease of someone who’s done it a hundred times. I watched him as he loaded my bags into the trunk, every movement feeling like a countdown. And then, when he opened the passenger door for me, I hesitated. I stood at the edge of that moment, torn between the part of me that wanted to leave and the part that wanted to stay, just a little longer.

“Thanks for the help,” I said, looking up at him, my heart thudding hard in my chest.

“Jungkook,” he said, his voice soft, that crooked smile still tugging at his lips. “I’m Jungkook.”

“Y/N,” I replied, the name slipping out of my mouth so naturally it felt like it was meant for him, like it was always supposed to be said here, in this cold, surreal moment.

“Y/N,” he repeated, like he was testing it on his tongue, like it was something fragile and precious. He leaned in just a little, his voice dropping to a whisper.

"Y/N?" His hand hovered near my shoulder, his voice even quieter now, almost as if he was about to share a secret meant only for me.

And suddenly, the world around us—everything—fell away. The cold, the noise, the blur of people rushing past. It was just him, standing there with that crooked grin, making me wonder if maybe—just maybe—this wasn’t the end of whatever this was.

“Yeah, Jungkook?” I asked, my breath catching, anticipation curling low in my stomach.

“My friends and I... we hang out at this bar on Grand most Tuesdays. Billy’s?” He said it like a suggestion, but it felt like more. Like a bridge to whatever might come next. “Maybe I’ll see you there sometime?”

A thrill shot through me, quick and unexpected. This wasn’t just some random, fleeting connection. He wanted to see me again. “Yeah,” I stammered, my voice barely steady. “I could swing by. Once I’m settled in.”

“Great.” His whole face lit up, and it was like watching a door creak open, revealing something softer, something vulnerable underneath. "I’ll see you around then, Y/N." He stepped back, shut the door behind me with a quiet finality.

As the cab pulled away, I turned, craning for one last look. He waved, easy and casual, and I lifted my hand in return, my heart still racing. Part of me wanted to freeze this moment, hold onto it before it slipped away. But the cab turned the corner, and just like that, he was gone.

I slumped back in the seat, exhaustion settling in like a heavy weight. I rested my head against the cold window, letting the chill ground me. This wasn’t just some daydream—it was real. And yet, as the city lights blurred by, doubts started creeping in, shadows curling at the edges of my mind. Would I really show up at Billy’s? Or would I let this whole thing fade, convincing myself it was just a fluke? 

But then I thought about him—Jungkook. That crooked smile. And a small part of me couldn’t help but wonder... What if?

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[girlokwhatever]

omg ur writing for Paige is literally beautiful- I was wondering if u could write something like ur hockey gf one but w a figure skating gf? hope ur having a good day/night 😓✊

had a few requests like this so here we go!!

paige bueckers x figure skater!gf hcs

‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊♡₊˚ 🦢・₊✧ paige with a figure skater gf,,

— she deeply admires your talent

- to her you’re the coolest person in the whole entire world

— even though she thinks it’s cool, it’s always worried you’re going to fall or get cut on the skate

- holds her breath during your entire routine

— doesn’t like watching you have a routine with a guy

- like why is he maneuvering you like that

- if he drops you she’ll give him the dirtiest looks later

— likes to go watch you practice (cheers you on fr)

— literally on the edge of her seat the whole routine

— takes pictures and videos (proud gf paige) and is always posting them

— she thinks you’re so sexy in your attire

- whether is the routine costume or just practice clothes (she likes how short the dresses and skirts are bffr)

— will lace up your skates for you after you taught her how

— paige will wear five layers of jackets because she gets so cold in the rink

— you tried to teach her how to skate………..

- she fell right on her ass BUT SHES DETERMINED

- will not go out and do it in public though

- you literally skated circles around her..

— brags about how you can do a triple axel

— “YEAHHH!! THATS MY GIRL FRIEND!”

- everyone is staring at her bc she’s so loud

— your ice skating friends tease her for not knowing how to skate

— “paige can you record me doing this move?”

- “i’m already recording baby.”

— threw a party when you got invited to join and train with the olympic team

- she’s so proud of you she lowkey cries

- cries even harder when you win an olympic gold medal

— she tells everyone you’re the best figure skater in the nation “for sure”

— complains every time she falls about how hard the ice is

— buys you brand new ice skates for your birthday (the exact ones you wanted bc paige knows you so well)

— she makes sure the ice is safe before you get on (you’re confused as to what she even does to check)

— “i don’t want him to throw you like that.”

- “why not? it’ll look really good,”

- “i read somewhere it could be dangerous”

- “oh really? where’d you read that?”

- “… iceskatingsafety.com.. duh”

— you hold her hands when you teach her how to skate

- she loves you

— you make her watch ‘i, tonya’

- she’s on the edge of her seat the whole time

— “can’t you just stick to the simple stuff?”

- “paige this is the olympics-“

— always affirming and praising you even after a rough performance

- “baby you’ll always be the most talented skater i know”

- “one fall doesn’t define you”

- “that was the most amazing routine i’ve ever seen”

— you guys like to go watch ice skating shows based on disney movies

— she hung a rack in your dorm for you to put all your medals on

- you’re a winner what can i say?!

— “baby you look so sexy in those pants”

- she’s saying this right after you fell on your ass

— “i’ll be your partner. don’t want you doing it with that guy.”

- “p, you can only skate in a straight line.”

☾⋆｡𖦹 °✩ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-⍣ ೋ

these are so cute

i love

[blondrafe]

ice rink ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

summary: you adore ice skating, and since it’s winter, the ice rinks back in town! you convince drew to go with you, and have the most amazing time!

warnings: none, just fluff!

notes: winter piece, not much but i changed my theme so ofc i had to write something wintery!! plus it was snowing so i was in my element . also mb for getting sloppy at the end

a few days back you were scrolling through your phone, mindlessly liking things and commenting on posts on instagram until you came across a post saying that the local ice rink had started up again, and you squealed with excitement

you had shown drew and convinced him to take you, because you just love and how could he say no to your cute little face? so, now you were making your way to the ice rink, forcing drew to let you two walk to take in all the christmasy magic

every shop window was light up with lights, as well as everything being decorated for christmas. you were squealing at nearly everything you saw, just so excited for it to finally be christmas. eventually you two made it to the ice rink, and as you were queued up to get you skates, you seen drew nervously biting his lip

you smirked and raised an eyebrow, looking him up and down as you saw this all of a sudden nervous demeanour. “what’s wrong?” you asked slyly, having a good idea already on what he was so nervous about

drew wasn’t a very good ice skater, as a kid he had fell once and never went back again, cringing at the thought of falling over again, especially since he was a grown man now. “just uh, just haven’t skated in a while…” he murmured, scratching the scruff on his chin

you giggled softly, finding it amusing how apprehensive he was about simple ice skating. “you’ll be fine drew, i’ll be there to help” you said, moving forward as it was now your turn to grab your skates

you two sat on a nearby bench, putting on your skates and lacing them up. you were done before drew, standing up and giggling as he struggled to do up his skates. “seriously? can’t even tie up his own skates” you tut as you slowly shake your head, bending down on one knee to help him with his skates

“hey! i said i haven’t been for awhile” drew defended himself, a small smile warming his face as he watched you easily tie up the laces. it was small things like that you did that he absolutely loved, and it reminded him of why he even fell in love with you in the first place

you tapped his foot when you were done, standing up and grabbing drew’s hand to drag him to the rink, sliding onto the ice with ease. drew on the other hand was like bambi, his legs wobbling as he hesitantly placed one foot on the white ice

“cmon, it’ll be fine” you giggled, lending him a hand. he accepted it immediately, gripping onto it like it was a lifeline.

after a few near falls, a couple giggles from you and grumpy grunts from drew, he gets the hang of it and you two are able to freely skate around the rink, all smiles and laughter floating around you two

“see you’ve got it!” you cheer as drew starts to speed up, now able to go a little faster for a more comfortable pace, instead of painfully slow. he smiled, feeling pretty proud of himself for getting over his nerves and actually being good at skating

“yeah, guess i do” he says, humble and polite as always. and that’s how you two end your day, skating, talking, playing around and just enjoying each others company and affection

[thedivineden]

Thin Ice

Summer Olympics Collab w/ @tetzoro

pairing: gojo satoru x reader

genre: smut

words: 5k+

notes: dubcon, enemies, breeding, jujitsu kaisen au!figure skaters, slight mentions of sexual harassment from Gojo, obsession, controlling behaviors, jealousy, drugging, peer pressure, slight manipulation,

AN: I had so much fun writing this, you should see the notes I scribbled at work because we’re not allowed to have our phones! Thank you so much @tetzoro for allowing me to be apart of this lovely event. ૮꒰˶ᵔ ᗜ ᵔ˶꒱ა˖⁺‧₊

You and Gojo Satoru have been competing against each other since the day you were placed in the same class at nine years old. He was favored due to his family standing within the figure skating community but you had raw, unfiltered talent which shook him and his family to their core. Despite all your talent, he’s managed to win almost every single competition. You’d bet big money that it had to do with his family status but you don’t upset the balance until you’re both picked for the Olympics.

And boy were you fuming. “I ALONE have went through hell and back to be where I am whereas he gets placed just because of his family name! It’s preposterous Shoko!” you’ve been ranting to your coach for an hour about the competition; how you didn’t believe that he deserved to be here and wish you didn’t have to compete along side him. “That spoiled brat doesn’t have a INCH of talent in his bones even if it was injected with a needle!”

“Aw do you really hate me that much? I thought we were friends?” You turn to the door to see the lanky white haired man standing against its frame smiling down at you. “Friends? Satoru please, you know I never enjoyed your company now leave. I’m having a discussion with MY coach or are you wanting to take her away from me too?” Shoko stifled a small laugh and stood up. “Gojo, don’t stress my prodigy out. What do you want?”

Gojo never took his eyes off of you; he saw your annoyance as just another game. You roll your eyes and say, "Well, I was just coming to check on my favorite figure skater but I don't think she was to see me." Despite your request to go, Gojo slips into your room and envelops you in his arms. "I'll break all ten of your toes in five seconds if you don't get off of me."

Gojo chuckles at what you've said because he adores your fierce personality and is confident that you will follow through. You lost a tournament at 15 after he "jokingly" slapped your behind for taking first place and your only recourse was to throw your ice skate at him. His parents complained to the judges and got you disqualified.

You were more concerned about scuffing your brand-new Eden Piano ice skates than you were about the blade nearly striking him. You could feel his breath on your ear as he said, "Aw, must you struggle so much, you know you love it, and I know you love me, why don't we meet up later? My room?” You're furious now and shove him away from you. You're about to charge at him when Shoko, sporting her signature side grin, stands in between the two of you.

“Shall we maintain the calm? Alright, sweetie?” The man behind her laughs audibly, saying, "Yeah, sweetie! Let's maintain harmony.” Even though you were angry, you wouldn't allow him or anybody else to sour your mood. "Shoko, you're right; I won't have to deal with him for very long. After the Olympics, I'm heading to Brazil, and I have no intention of returning to Tokyo.” That touched a nerve; your coach's gasp indicates to Gojo that she was equally clueless. You had no idea that your remark had the man fuming.

You? Leaving? The young man finds just such idea absurd. Ever since he first saw you in class, you have been everything to him. You were not impressed with Gojo's antics, even if he is accustomed to getting his way. No matter how many pranks and tricks he performed or how many gifts he put in your locker, his efforts were consistently disregarded.

The man continued to essentially harass you every day despite your denial. He would make harsh remarks about your body, clearly taking care to point out that you are curvier than all the other figure skaters in the class or that your ass is "so massive that you might tip over," which would ultimately be the undoing of you. You could not care less, and all he wanted was the thrill of having your undivided attention.

Gojo needed and desired you more than anything else, and this only made his fixation worse. Without saying anything more, the young man left the room, leaving Shoko to ask all the relevant questions and provide the information later. He's going to make sure that you remember him forever.

It took hours for the two of you to be back together again. You were seated close to each other for the opening ceremony. The opening ceremony typically features the entrances of the head of state or other official of the host nation as well as the president of the International Olympic Committee. The national anthem and flag are then raised and played. Then the tournament started.

You have a strong passion for figure skating, and when you're on the ice, it feels remote. Nothing could distract you from your quest for excellence in each trick, flip, and turn. Everyone in the stadium is quiet, appreciating your stunning appearance and captivating performance. Your candid feelings convey a tale of bereavement.

You jump off the backward outside edge on one foot, using your toe pick to help you get airborne, then use your other leg to reach across your body and back to pick into the ice. Gojo is an enormous admirer of your performances and would do anything to spend time on the ice with you.

You were actually quite flexible, as required by the biellmann spin. You spin on one foot, stretching the other leg behind you and above your head to make the shape of a teardrop, and Gojo is staring at you in astonishment. You release your leg and step off the ice again. You can turn the odds in your favor with just your pure resolve.

You release everything forward, shift your entire weight on your takeoff left leg, raise your arms, and release your right leg back at the same moment of takeoff. At first, it looks like a typical axel leap, but in order to complete the trick, you have to make four and a half rotations in the air. When you land perfect, everyone in the stadium goes crazy. Gojo was aware of the announcers' adoration for your flawless quadruple axel.

Interviewers are waiting in line to chat with Japan's figure skating prodigy as soon as you step off the ice. Gojo heard all of the inquiries: "Wow, it was incredible! "How long have you been practicing your quadruple axel?" "How long have you been training?" and "Do you ever see yourself performing routines in pairs with?" You were brisk even off the rink, graciously and enthusiastically responding to every inquiry.

Gojo is the next to go, but not before he interacts with you. "Looks like you're going for the gold, but we all know who's really taking it home." Your smile quickly disappears and is replaced by a frown. "If you already know you're the winner why are you trying so hard to convince yourself that I'm not?" You grin again and walk past the gaunt man before he can respond, heading toward Shoko.

God, you made him so hard.

Despite what you previously stated, Gojo is without a doubt the greatest for Japan, and his mesmerizing methods are hard to ignore. Every now and then, Gojo stretches out his palm and takes a tiny step forward, sliding across the icy rink with effortless ease. Not long after he picks up speed, he throws his right leg over his head and balances on his left foot. He spread his arms, almost making a T or possibly a K. Gojo never fails to demonstrate to his own nation and the rest of the world that he was a showman in addition to a prodigy.

He swung his body in fluid motions, bending his knees. He was able to move down the rink more quickly and farther as soon as both of his skates were facing in the same direction and parallel to one another. Watch as the man launches himself and lands on the back outside edge of the opposing foot. You see him use his free leg to assist with the takeoff. Gojo starts off across the rink once more; he has the appearance of a swan on a quest. Despite his solemn expression, he manages to pique the audience's interest by molding his face to suit his intended message.

Your thoughts are interrupted by a tap from another skater. "Hi!"You're — correct? The most beautiful man you have ever seen is revealed when you turn around. "Yes I am and you are?" Your smile was enough to break any man's heart, and it certainly broke Gojo's. His eyes caught you talking to the low-level figure skater during his back bend. To get your attention, Gojo slowly lifts his body upward while making sure to circle close to you.

You paid no attention to anything, not even when the crowd chanted his name. He saw you gazing passionately at the man, touching him, and grinning during his performance. He'll make sure that everyone is aware of your connection. Interviewers swarm Gojo as he emerges from the ice, asking him questions about the tournament, his emotions, whether he predicted Japan would win, and what he loves best about the Olympics.

He took great pleasure in watching you, even though you were hostile toward you. He enjoys watching you on the ice and knows that all of these eyes will be able to see and appreciate your beauty and brilliance, even if that's not a suitable answer to the question. “I had fun watching my girlfriend accomplish a quadruple axel on the ice, going above and beyond the norm!” The interviewers are going crazy over the exclusive insider information that Japan's Olympic candidates are a couple! “I'm very proud of her!”

“How long have you two been together?”

“Could you two come on my show to give more information about your relationship and experience in the competitive skating world?”

“Do you plan on marrying her?”

Gojo has a broad smile, but it widens when he notices you approaching from the corner of his eye. He ensured that there would be enough disturbance to draw in people from a 50-mile radius. He quickly puts his arm around your waist to hold you close once you are arms length apart.

He undoubtedly knows that you are extremely conscious of your appearance and would never intentionally make a fool of yourself in front of thousands of people. "Hello my darling, don't you want to tell them about how our love blossomed?" Even though you're terrified, you swiftly avert the interviewers' attention to the man by saying that he always tells story better than you. He makes fun of you and tells a made-up tale of jealousy, hate, and love. Gojo lets the interviewer know that you two are deeply in love, plan to be married, and want to start a family.

He knows when you get uncomfortable in his arms and knows it's time to finish the interview and express gratitude for the interviewers' time. Curses fly from your mouths towards Gojo the moment you two are out of earshot. You attempt to escape his hold, but it's firm and powerful, and he won't let go until he proves that you are his.

Because he would be pressed for time, he had everything set up before the competition day. After his performance, he asked to have a car ready for him so he could take you to the Olympic village, to his room, and finally to his bed. You sound even more enraged now that you're practically yelling at him.

“Are you out of your fucking mind? Why in the hell would you tell them that?”

"I just want you to realize how much I adore you, now hush and enjoy." Gojo hurries you into the back of the tinted Range Rover, entering on the left side. He signals the driver to shorten the route and closes the partition — his hand finds contact too high on your thigh and his look is exceedingly strained. "I'm not your enemy but you treat me like one, why?"

You chuckle and roll your eyes at his assertion, "You've been tormenting me since we were seven, and you think I have no reason to want you away from me?" When you look at him, his expression is one of perplexity. Torment? I used to put gifts in your locker, and from what I remember, you threw them out." Your face flushed from the accusation. "Well, I'd have kept them if you hadn't said anything about my physique. "Everyday, you said something demeaning which encouraged other people to say hurtful things. Now you all are in my shadow, I’m winning the gold ."

You turned to face Gojo and said this with the biggest smile on your face, but as soon as you saw the tear streaming down his hot cheeks, your smile fades. "What's wrong, you?" Even with a hint of worry in your voice, your countenance suggests dissatisfaction. "I'm sorry, I didn't realize, but I'd like another chance." In all honesty, Gojo doesn't give a damn about earning your favor. All he wants is what any man would want.

To win.

Gojo makes sure to be the ultimate gentleman as he ushers you out promptly as the car arrives at the village. When he offers his hand to help you out of the car and opens the compound door for you, he can see you're nervous and cautious because you pause. To be honest, you felt anxious at every turn, and when Gojo came up behind you, his arm clasped tightly around your waist. You didn't know why you two were at the compound without your coaches, or what he wanted, but you weren't enjoying it.

When he arrives at his room, he stops at the entrance and looks at you intently. "I set everything up for you because I want you to know how special you've been to me," he says as he opens the door. The smell of cinnamon and vanilla greets you, along with the sight of candles and petals scattered on the corridor floor. Gojo releases his hold on you as his hand travels to your lower back and softly presses you inside his room.

Although your instincts are going haywire, the environment appears in the opposite way. When you step fully into his room the corridor floor is only the tip of the iceberg. Gojo, rather, the person he hired to arrange the space, created a lavish pallet on the floor and surrounded it with a heart made of flowers. accompanied by a bouquet of flowers and a selection of finger appetizers. There are images of you from previous competitions, including ones where you lost, hanging on the walls with the term winner printed on them.

"Do you Iike it?" The pleasure on his face is palpable. In a normal situation, you would do anything to erase Gojo Satoru’s smile, but right now, it would be bittersweet. The amount of work he put in is both sweet and a little alarming, given that several of the images on display were taken when he was alone himself in the booth. You feel the silence begin to take on an unsettling note, so you turn to nod your head at the man, a small grin on your lips.

“Sit down, try the foods. I’ll be back with drinks!” Gojo disappears down the corridor and out the room door leaving you and your rapid heart alone. Thoughts were swirling in your head.

You could just leave.

What does all of this mean? I mean he did give you gifts when you were kids but you just chalked it up to him trying to buy you and throw you off your game.

Does he actually like you? Could it have been your announcement about you leaving?

You sit down on the pallet allowing your weak legs to rest and distract yourself with the white chocolate covered strawberries. Halfway through the patch and uncontrollable anxiety, Gojo comes in with a drink tray with two bottles of martell cognac l'or de jean and two glasses. “I see you enjoyed the strawberries, I made the beef yakitori but you have to try it with the miso ranch” he places the tray on the pallet and sits extremely close to you.

You take a seat on the pallet, allowing your ailing legs to relax, and use the strawberries coated in white chocolate as a distraction. Gojo enters with a drink tray with two glasses and two bottles of Martell Cognac L'Or de Jean halfway through the patch and uncontrollably anxiousness. He lays the tray on the pallet and sits quite close to you, saying, "I see you enjoyed the strawberries. I made the beef yakitori but you have to try it with the miso ranch." He picks up a piece of beef and dips half of it in the homemade ranch.

“Open” you look at the man as if he grew three head and laugh. You try to take the meat, saying, "I'm perfectly capable of feeding myself," but Gojo pulls his hand back and gives you a stern look. Without a second thought you open your mouth to allow the man to feed you. Not only did you let him feed you once but the whole plate of beef along with the miso ranch.

Surprisingly, the beef is really soft, and when mixed with the miso ranch, it is exquisite. Gojo fed you the trend of white meal options, asking you what you thought of whatever he served you next and ensuring you finished at least half. You attribute it to his big ego, and he is still making whatever this is about himself, albeit in a minor way.

You begin to feel lighter, and your discussion with him has become comfortable, flirtatious even. Only when he places his hand on your thigh does your body react.

Your face is now hot, your mind is muddled, and his hand rubbing your thighs makes you want him to move his hand up higher under your skirt. You clear your throat and remind yourself who you’re with. "So, why did you actually do this? I didn't expect Gojo Satoru to be romantic” he hasn't taken his gaze away from you, but appears to be getting closer.

“Because you’re leaving and I know I won’t be able to stop you but I want to give you something to think about while you’re 17 thousands miles away.” It's the first time you've truly appreciated his appearance; he has subtle muscular physique. His lips appear smooth and plump, while his jawline is sharp. And his eyes? Women who testified about losing themselves in his gaze weren’t lying.

As your stare deepens, Gojo notices and seizes the opportunity to slide his hand up your leg and under your skirt. You pretend not to notice the precarious situation you've placed yourself in. Truthfully, all you want is for him to be beneath your skirt, to slide your panties to the side, and finger fuck you. Despite your increased heart rate and anxiety you don't stop him.

"Strip for me, princess," and your body becomes frigid instantly, making you appear almost ashamed. His eyes narrow as he leans in to whisper to you how much he wants you, how amazing you are, how he put this whole thing up for you, and how he begs you not to waste this lovely night. “You’re the one who let me put your hand up your skirt, don’t you want it?” You started to stammer and your pussy's heartbeat is becoming unbearable, but are you going to let this man defile you after he has attempted to humiliate you and make you feel inferior?

Gojo rolls his eyes and scoffs at your apprehension He starts to stand up, but your hand catches his arm and stops him instantly. "No, I think I want—" Before you can even finish speaking, Gojo covers you with his lips and hands. His thin fingers are hurrying through your clothing, admiring every inch of your body and snapping a mental image of your exposed breasts and pussy. His touch is light but frenzied and every kiss feels like it’s scorching your skin leaving an imprint on you.

Your body reacts beautifully to him which makes him hungry for you. Gojo is above you, staring down at you as you lie flat beneath him. Your gaze is locked on him, as though you're trying to assert your power and take charge of the circumstance in an effort to look less desperate and eager. He smiles and ask how much do you want it— with a cunning look on your face, you glare at him and repeat his question. The young man chuckles at you and pushes your legs apart by swiping his palm behind them.

Once your legs are spread, Gojo places his face close to your pussy, basking in its magnificence. "Is all of this for me?" He says before swiping his tongue through your slit. Your legs snap without warning, but his grip keeps you immobile. He revels in your flavor, the way your body heats up, and the way you try to hide your pleasure in your . This time, he didn't want to come up for air; he wanted to be buried in your wetness and hypnotized by your moans.

Your skin feels as like it is being scorched by every kiss and lick to your clit and hole. Gojo commands you to hold your legs up so he can stick two fingers into your dripping hole and curls them to give you the most ecstasy possible. He may be selfish, but he's definitely not when it comes to pleasure. You abandon your position to position your legs on his shoulders and tangle your fingers in his snow-white hair.

"Gojo~ I need- my head..I can't," you say as your legs start to tremble and your eyesight becomes white from the pleasure that has been building up. “You can take it princess, just hold on a little longer for me” he knows that he won’t stop until you've created a mess; you begin to urge the young man to stop so you can regain your breath, but he doesn't hear you at all. He looks up at you with his bright blue eyes and hums at the sight.

You have a face of pure bliss, your eyes are closed and your hair is starting to stick to your sweat covered body. Gojo has an unrelenting pace — you could do nothing but focus on releasing yourself on his blessed fingers. All he can hear after coming up is your ragged breathing which forms a smile on his face. “I would ask you how everything was but I can see you thoroughly enjoyed yourself”

“You fuck like a virgin who just got some for the first time.” Gojo smile is immediately wiped off his face. You sit up on your elbows but he pushes you back down and pulls out his angry throbbing member. “A virgin huh? Let me lose my virginity with you then” without warning he slides himself through your gummy walls. Now hovering over you, Gojo uses his hands to push one leg up and bend the other to your side. His face is beet red and you can tell he’s enjoying himself more than you are right now.

You want to fuck him, you can’t deny how he has you begging for him to move, yet everything feels forced in your mind. As your face starts to well up with tears, he notices and bends in to get near to your ear. "Aw, don't cry, I'll make it all better, okay?" you nod your head, and he replies "good girl.”

As much as he loves to tease you, he can no longer control himself. Although he intentionally uses deep, languid strokes, the louder your moans the quicker he thrusts into you. He's been saying in your ear all along how gorgeous, wet, and tight you are. How ever since he met you, he's been dreaming of this and wants to be the one man who can win your approval.

You become this lustful shell of yourself that just wants him to consume you, and everything begins to feel like an out-of-body experience. You cry out in desperation for him to go deeper and use you till he is unable to. When he lets go of your legs, you encircle them around his torso while wrapping your arms around his neck forcing his face into your neck.

Your mind is foggy and all you can think about is using your legs to drive him inside of you and lock him in place as Gojo takes advantage of this opportunity to leave as many markings on your neck as possible, intensifying the pleasure you're experiencing.

The young man is breathless at your actions and he makes a mocking tone saying you’re a desperate slut aren’t you? how about I give you something to remember me by”. He lifts his body up untangling your legs from his torso placing both of his palms behind your knees to extend them to the sides of your head, you whine at the lack of contact but he calms your hunger by pounding into you. Even if the action took you by surprise you start to moan and praise the man for fucking you so well.

The young man is breathless at your actions and remarks in a mocking manner, "You're a desperate slut, aren't you?" What if I gave you something to carry me with you forever? You whine at the absence of contact as he lifts his body up and separates your legs from his torso, extending both of his palms behind your knees and push them to the sides of your head. Gojo slams into you stifling your hunger. Even if the action took you by surprise, you start to moan and praise him for fucking you so well.

His climax happens quickly when you mutter, "I-I may just stay for you," in a breathless manner. He closes his eyes in an effort to continue for as long as possible considering he feels his balls getting tight. He desires to relish each instant spent within you, the way your walls enclose him, the firmness with which your hands clasp his arms, and the volume with which you utter his name. Gojo leans back toward you abruptly, giving you a passionate kiss and cums inside of you. Though you're mentally panicking out about the lack of protection, you quickly forget about it as he releases your hold on your limbs and turns you onto your tummy, telling you to lift your ass.

"That fat ass has to get love too, princess, don't be shy." Your embarrassment is the only reason for the heat that is starting to appear on your face. He scoops you up by your hips and slams into you, rolling his eyes at your hesitancy. He is aware of your sensitivity, but you wouldn't be aware of Gojo's struggle to endure the pain in order to prolong this time. Your ass jiggling with each thrust has him spellbound, and as he slides out of you to slam into you again, his dick is drenched.

At this moment, your pussy is hurting and you're crying, but the heatbeat is becoming worse. Then it dawns on you that he is the only one who can stop the excruciating feeling underneath. Your mind is immediately repulsed by the idea. Gojo Saturo, of all people, fucking you senselessly is shameful, but the young man wipes that notion away as soon as it occurs by grabbing your hair with one hand and playing with your clit with the other around your waist.

You were too high and fucked out to realize that Gojo had taken the remote and turned on the television before seizing you. You were so overstimulated that your legs were trembling, and your tears were blurring your vision. "Gojo, please, I just can't handle it any longer." The teleprompters are now announcing the male single winners, “Just let them announce the winners pretty, if you win I’ll give you a present okay?”

Your body became heavy and you can feel your thighs become wet from your climax and hear his win being announced. All he could hear from you now is sobs begging him to give you a second, this is what he wants, for you to break down on his dick. It goes without saying that Gojo takes home the gold, he saw the camera move to his coach; who was very upset over his absence and had a stone-cold expression on his face.

He didn’t want his movements to be soured by the display and leans his head back in bliss. He’s beyond sensitive and doesn’t want you to see the tears coming out of his eyes to. Not only did he win literally but he’s achieving his life long goal of ruining you. His next words are winded, “make sure you come back in nine months for your next present princess.”

Leaning his head back in delight, he didn't want the event to ruin his moves. His sensitivity is immense, and he would prefer that you not see the tears welling up in his eyes. Not only has he literally won, his lifelong ambition to ruin you has been achieved. He continues, "Make sure you come back in nine months for your next present, princess," in a taunting manner.

You continue to sob as Gojo bullies your overworked cunt, cumming again coating your tantalizing walls in white. He lets you go and once you hit the pallet your world goes black. Waking up you notice the space around you is pitch black, you attempt to get up and survey the surroundings but your body is incredibly sore.

You sob on and on as Gojo abuses your overworked cunt and once more covers your alluring walls in white. After he lets you go, you strike the pallet, and everything goes dark. When you wake up, you discover that the space is pitch black. You want to stand up and take in your surroundings, but your body hurts so much. From your head to in between your legs, you look and feel around for a light or at least your phone.

You jump back and scream as soon as you feel warmth and skin when you reach to your left. Your head is throbbing and you try to recollect the last few hours, but when you discover you can't, it just makes you feel more anxious. You stand up despite the fact that your legs are weak and sprint to the closest corner to make yourself appear smaller. Your final recollection is leaving the ice and talking with the interviewers. Besides that, you don’t know where you are, why you’re naked and who that is laying next to you.

“Why are you yelling princess, it’s late.”

Princess? When you hear the voice, your blood starts to boil, and you start to remember what transpired. "FUCK, FUCK, FUCK! GOJO SATORU YOU WAKE THE FUCK UP AND TELL ME WHAT HAPPENED," the man gets out of the duvet and moves across the room to turn on the light. He can't stop laughing when he sees you in the corner. "Princess, get up. I got you something."

The man walks to the nearest dresser, throws you in the shorts and shirt, and walks to the bathroom, seemingly unaffected by your outcry. It's amazing how calm someone can be when he's clearly done you some harm. But you get dressed immediately, grab your stuff from his room, and run out of there. "You sick bastard, I hope you know that I'm going to the authorities." A flurry of flashes from microphones and cameras jammed against your face greets you as soon as you open the door.

Questions about why you were in Gojo's room, whether you were actually unwell or if you skipped the rest of the competition to spend time with him, and why you were leaving in his clothing suddenly burst out of the seemingly small gathering. The sensation of his arms enveloping you, his naked chest resting on your back, and his murmur in your ear, "Gold winning Olympian misses her win to share intimate time with her new boyfriend," further intensifies your feelings of overwhelm. “I believe that is a catchy headline.”

Gojo got what he wanted, attaching you to him forever, hopefully in more ways than one.

[yooniivrse]

no but imagine a figure skating au where you and jungkook are ice dancing partners. the chemistry was certainly there during your performances, but off the ice, you just never seemed to click with him. practices always ended with petty fights and weird tension.

until one day, you guys hook up to relieve some of the overwhelming pressure that is on your backs for the competition the next day, and coincidentally, you end up winning gold.

of course, jungkook is convinced that you guys have to fuck before competitions from now on because “it clearly does something”. but it can’t escalate to feelings because everyone knows, that breaking up romantically but still having to stay partnered for the sport rarely ends well.

so now you’re in a fwb relationship with him but you can’t ignore the butterflies in your stomach or the warmth cradling your heart every time you guys celebrate and he kisses your temple on the podium or twirls u around after a good performance.

but of course, you can stay professional…right?

[cherrycherrylady2024]

Christmas with the Grimes'

(Dilf Rick Grimes x reader) Word count: 3,327

Warnings 18+: Drinking, mentions of sex, kissing, incredible sexual tension, very sensuous bandaging, this is so hot i love this chapter

Chapter 5: Reach out and touch

It felt like a sign. Or instant karma. Your face was hot with embarrassment as you shakily picked yourself up, stumbling twice in the process. Judith and co. had already made a full lap around the rink and skated up to you at the perfect time to watch you fall yet again. “Shit, y/n! Are you okay?” Judith exclaimed, quickly skating over to you and helping you stand. Why the fuck is everyone in this town an Olympic pro skater? You brushed it off with a laugh, concealing your chagrin. Your unfortunately un-gloved palms were already red and thumping with pain, along with your knee which had smashed into the ice. Marsha looked you up and down, a hint of a sneer on her lips, “Do you want one of those?” she questioned, pointing at a kid wobbling around the ice, using a walker. A few others were strewn about, clearly meant for the idiots who couldn’t skate. Judith shot her a look and you tried to conceal your irritation. “No, thanks though. I’m just rusty,” you say gritting your teeth. Marsha smiled faux-sweetly and zipped off, spraying a bit of ice in her wake. Daniel looked at you, a hint of worry, before following Marsha. “I’m sorry y/n, Marsha’s a bitch sometimes,” Judith said, interlinking her arm with yours. You didn’t respond, as you felt tears prickling the back of your eyes. Everything was bubbling up to the surface. You were feeling so many things so heavily and quickly that you weren’t sure how to handle it all.

But still, you refused to cry. 

Judith did a lap with you around the rink as you gained your bearings, before you shooed her off to try on your own. She stayed a few feet away, watching you, in case you fell. She was a good friend. Your best friend. And you wanted to fuck her dad. You are despicable. Every time you fell, you almost felt like you deserved it. You got the hang of it just barely towards the end, but only after slamming into the barriers, the ground, and a few other people. After an hour on the ice, your hands were scraped and bruised, your pants torn on one knee, and you ached all over. Marsha and Daniel said their goodbyes, which you barely acknowledged. The car ride home was quiet between you and Judith, except for some Christmas music playing over the radio. You kept your eyes trained out of the window, exhausted emotionally and physically. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see her glancing at you now and then. She finally spoke, “Y’know…you could’ve told me you can’t skate.” She said this gently, not judging. It wasn’t accusatory, or mean, or bitchy, she was entirely genuine. Your frustrations melted away. You loved her. You looked at her tiredly, not saying anything as she returned your gaze. After a moment, a small smile began to form on her lips and you couldn’t help but return it. You let out a giggle. She snorted, her smile growing. Before you knew it you were both cackling with laughter, Judith even wiping a tear from her eye. It was pretty ridiculous, you look like you had been in a bar fight. Judith slowed to a stop in front of Carol’s house again and Carl got in the car, your laughter just winding down. He paused for a second, “What happened to you?” he questioned. You and Judith immediately burst into laughter again. You felt better.

~~~

You walked back into the Grimes house, your bones aching. You wanted a hot shower and perhaps a few bandaids. You remembered with feverish excitement that Rick would be home, and you headed into the kitchen, assuming he would be preparing dinner. Except he wasn’t there. He wasn’t in the dining room either. Or the living room. You felt both panic and disappointment rise in you. “Dad’s working late again!” you hear Judith yell from the kitchen. You speed walk back in, and try to seem nonchalant. Judith flicks a note towards you, “He didn’t leave pizza money either. Leftovers I guess.” You picked up the note, reading and re-reading it.

‘Working late, not sure when I’ll be home. Be good. Sweet dreams if I don't see you - Dad’ 

It was a simple note, probably scrawled quickly during his lunch break. Not much to read into. Except you were nearly 100% sure the last line was meant for you. It had to be. While you were supremely let down, you also felt a sense of vindication. It was there. It was real.

The three of you heated up Chinese leftovers and enjoyed your small feast on the couch, watching Christmas movies. You had fully emerged from your bit of moodiness and enjoyed Judith and Carl's company. Sure Judith had a terrible habit of talking through movies, and yes, Carl couldn’t sit still for more than 10 seconds, but it was a comfort to you. The fireplace warmed the three of you, snuggled up in blankets, and you realized that you felt the most at home you have in a very, very long time. Maybe it was because you felt validated by the note, or maybe you were just tired, but the time flew by surprisingly fast. Before you knew it, Carl was headed to bed and you had said your goodnights to the Grimes siblings. You got in the shower after Judith around 9 pm, the warm water soothing your aching body. You were surprised to find a few more scrapes and bruises that had been concealed by your clothing, but you didn’t care enough to ask for bandaids at this point. You methodically picked out and put on a pair of pajamas before diving under the covers, already chilly. You set your alarm for 2 am, and fell asleep with surprising ease.

~~~

Your heart fluttered in your chest as you tip-toed down the stairs, hoping against all hope that Rick would be in the kitchen. Just like last night. Just like every night for the rest of time if you were lucky. You padded into the kitchen, silent as the dead, holding your breath in anticipation. 

He sat at the kitchen island once more, studying the newspaper's crossword under the small lamp, his whiskey by his side. You breathed a sigh of relief, and he looked up, an expression of mild surprise followed by a smile. “Back again?” He remarked. His smile briefly faltered as he surveyed your appearance; your nearly-see-through tank top which left little to the imagination in the chilly house, your shorty shorts which looked small enough to be underwear, and your scraped and bruised knees. He looked like he wanted to ask, but thought better of it. You had a sudden wave of panic. What the fuck were you doing? “Couldn’t sleep,” you stated. He nodded his head, glancing back down toward his newspaper, “More dreams?” You scoffed and walked over to him, the cold tiles of the kitchen shocking your feet. You sidled up right next to him, standing only a few inches away as he sat. He turned his head slowly, blue eyes wandering up your frame to look at you, his face slightly lower than yours. His expression was slightly questioning yet indulgent of your little show. You glanced down at him with a sly smile before bending over and reading his crossword questions out loud to yourself. You could feel his gaze linger on your body, stretched over him. “This one is wrong, Rick,” you said definitively, pointing out one of the rows he had filled in. Rick, Rick, Rick. You loved to say his name, but you felt a twinge of fear when he looked at you, raising his eyebrow slightly. Didn’t he tell you to call him Rick? The corners of his mouth lifted into a half-smirk. “Oh is it?” he said sarcastically, more of a statement than a question. Your leg brushed up against his, neither of you moving away. “Mhm. Pencil,” you commanded, hand outstretched. He chortled, shaking his head and handing you the pencil.

You had gripped the end of it before he suddenly stopped, and in the blink of an eye, both his hands quickly cupped your outstretched one. “What happened here?” He questioned, more concerned than you expected. You regretted not putting on bandaids earlier, as you felt your face go slightly warm. “Oh- I… fell. Like a lot. On the ice. It was sort of mortifying,” you admitted. You hated the thought of him thinking you were some clumsy kid. He moved your hand around, inspecting it, his grip on your wrist secure and warm. The fingers of his other hand gently brushed across your own, opening up your hand more. He stood and moved past you in an instant, his hand brushing your waist, sending more goosebumps across your skin. “It’s fine really, it doesn’t hurt,” you said. He ignored you, ducking into a cupboard and emerging with a first aid kit. He cracked it open and brought the lamp closer to you two, before patting the counter, “Hop up.” You obeyed and climbed onto the counter. He situated himself slightly in between your outstretched knees, close enough that you could wrap your legs around him if you wanted to. And you did want to. You weren’t embarrassed by your ice skating battle scars anymore. In fact, this was the best possible way this situation could go. Thank god you're terrible at ice skating. You tried not to smile.

Rick put some Neosporin on the butt of each of your hands, his clean fingertip delicately spreading it across your scrape. He was so gentle. So quiet. So present. It was incredibly intimate. He wrapped a thin piece of gauze around both of your hands, and you felt somewhat silly again. Perhaps this was overkill.

That was until he gripped the back of your thigh, spreading your legs further and bringing your right knee closer to his eye level.

You inhaled sharply, but he didn’t seem to notice, his gaze completely and utterly focused on your beat-up knee. It was extremely endearing. You were now situated, legs akimbo, around Rick Grimes. One of his hands held the back of your calf, the other in the middle of your quad, turning your knee this way and that in the light. “You ain’t ever allowed to ice skate again,” he finally declared shaking his head with a smile. You felt like you were on fire like anything could happen in this moment. You tried to maintain control of yourself, chill out. “Yes sir,” you mumbled, not quite as sarcastic sounding as you had meant it to be. Certainly not chill! His eyes flicked up to yours, catching the sheepish look on your face. He smiled to himself as he let go of your leg, reaching for the alcohol wipes in the kit. He peeled one open then looked up at you, “This might sting.” You nodded, nothing could take you away from this moment. He dabbed the wipe gently on your scraped knee and- OW. You sucked in a surprised breath between your teeth, squeezing your eyes closed. “Shhh,” he said, gently caressing your thigh in a soothing gesture, “You’re alright.”

You forgot about the pain almost immediately, his caress much more arousing than soothing. You peeked down at him. His face was inches away from your knee, eyebrows knit up, focusing on sanitizing the scrape as gently as possible. Rick's large hands gripping your thigh, yet working so delicately on your injury. His dark, thick hair with those sexy curls. One had even fallen into his face, and it took all your strength not to push it back for him. Run your fingers through his hair. You wanted nothing more than to touch him. He cleaned the smaller scrape on your other knee before throwing the towlette away. He applied Neosporin again and placed a large bandaid on one and a smaller one on the other. With his thumbs, he stroked the edges of the bandaids firmly, coercing them to stay in place. He rubbed his hands together, inspecting his work, “Alright that should do it. Nothin’ we can do ‘bout these bruises though.” He stood. You didn’t want this to end. You didn’t want him to ever leave between your legs.

It was out of your mouth before you could give it a second thought, 

“Will you kiss it better?”

...

Now would be the appropriate time to crawl into a hole and die. 

You felt an immediate flush grace your cheeks. Rick peered down at you, and you struggled to read his expression. It was like a warning look, but also spirited, like something had stirred inside of him. Like he was entertaining this behavior. He looked hungry. You hadn’t broken eye contact, your lips slightly parted, ready to take back what you said. He studied you for another moment before his hand slid under your leg again, stabilizing it. He slowly knelt, sinking almost entirely in front of you, your legs open wide to him. He maintained eye contact as he leaned forward slightly, and left a soft kiss over your bandaged knee. Your eyelids fluttered and you let out the tiniest shaky breath. He must have noticed, but again said nothing. He wasn’t done. He moved lazily to your other knee, and left another kiss, lingering longer. You were at the precipice of something. All you had to do was reach out and touch. He finished and stood, that same hungry look in his eye, slightly self-satisfied. He could see what he was doing to you.

Rick’s hips were situated in line with your knees, maybe even closer. One of his hands just so happened to stay on your thigh. It was undeniable now. If anybody walked in there was no explaining this. You could cut the tension between you two with a knife. No, not even with a knife. A chainsaw might do the job. You didn’t want him to stop. He seemed as though he was just about to say something, but you interrupted him, stretching out your bandaged hands. Your knuckles bumped his chest, your palms up. You didn’t need to say anything, he understood, that playful look in his eye. He grasped the back of your hand and leaned down. Your fingers cupped his face as he left a gentle kiss to your bandaged hand. His coarse facial hair tickled the soft flesh of your palm. He moved to the other one, again leaving a slightly deeper kiss. You wanted nothing more than to grab his face and connect your lips. You could imagine it so vividly. Reach out and touch. What was stopping you? You couldn’t imagine he’d protest. And yet, to cross that line… you were petrified. As much as you tried to seem suave and confident, this was completely uncharted territory. Maybe in an alternate universe, you were bold, truly bold. Maybe you were already fucking on the kitchen counter. But not in this universe.

He pulled away from your hand. Please don’t stop Please don’t stop Please don’t stop. He started putting away the med kit. No. No. No.

“Ow,” you remarked flatly. 

He turned back to find you pointing at your inner thigh, and the rather large bruise situated only one or two inches from the hem of your shorts. You had no idea how it had appeared, yet there it was. He stared at the bruise, clenching his jaw, the gears turning in his head. You would give anything to know what he was thinking. He looked up at you.

You were taken aback by his stormy expression. You hadn’t seen a look like this on his face before and it took you a few moments to piece it together. There was a kind of frustration behind his eyes, one that you couldn’t wrap your head around. Why would he be angry? It wasn’t a full-on glare, more of a DANGER warning, and yet you could see that same hunger there, ten-fold. It was as though he was desperately holding himself back, and he was losing. You got the feeling Rick didn’t like to lose. He didn’t move. Neither of you did.

You have made a huge mistake. You fucked everything up. What is wrong with you?

He looked away, out of the window, thinking briefly. You were both vividly aware of the line you had asked him to cross. The moments passed at a glacial pace, and you felt frozen in anticipation of what might come. Rick turned back to you and sighed lowly. He set the medical kit back down, maybe a little harder than it needed to be. He drummed his fingers on the box. You gripped the counter anxiously, trying not to let it show on your face. After what felt like an excruciatingly long amount of time, he moved. Rick situated himself back in between your legs, spreading them wider with his hand, a gentle pressure on your knee. He was closer than before, even. You exhaled shakily. He hooked his hand in the crook of your leg, lifting it up. He was still gentle, but you could sense he was holding back. It was the same motion he would do if he was about to put your leg over his shoulder, and you couldn’t shake the image from your head. Reach out and touch. His other hand held your opposite thigh for stability, his thumb stroking your skin gently. He lowered his head languidly, maintaining the same steely eye contact. You breathed heavily. His face was mere inches from your clothed pussy as he dipped his head towards your thigh. He paused, keeping his mouth just slightly away from the mauve bruise, and you could feel his equally heavy breath on your skin. He looked up at you holding your gaze as he connected his parted lips to your inner thigh. His eyes shut as he slowly pursed his lips, leaving the world's most erotic, warm, semi-open-mouthed kiss.

He exhaled through his nostrils like he was relieved of some great burden within himself. Like he was given water while lost in the desert. He didn’t seem to want to stop. Or maybe he just couldn’t. He had given in. His lips didn't leave the spot for quite some time, grazing over the bruise. You could’ve come right then and there. Rick Grimes’ head in between your thighs, his lips on your skin, his fingers gripping you tightly, as though he was trying in vain to restrain himself. He kissed the bruise a second time, and you could swear you felt him lightly suck at your skin. He dragged his bottom lip gradually away from the bruise, traveling down your leg. You could feel his teeth slightly graze your skin. The warmth of his mouth. Shivers racked your body as you let your head fall back slightly, closing your eyes in ecstasy at the lightest touch. His lips eventually departed and he straightened up slowly, his head still bowed, before meeting your eyes darkly.

He was inches away, gazing deeply, lustfully, dangerously into your soul. His hand hadn’t left your thigh. Reach out. You breathed shakily. And touch. Your hand met his on your thigh. Reach out and touch. You traveled slowly up his arm, stopping at his shoulder. He didn’t break eye contact. He didn’t move. You leaned forward, your legs opening up even more for him. Reach out and touch. Your lips were centimeters from his, you shared the same breath, his eyes flicking down to your lips. He wasn’t making this easy for you. You had to cross that line, not him. Your hand met the side of his face. Reach out and touch. 

Maybe it was this universe.

You pressed your lips against his.

***

notes: oh my god. Oh my god. Tee hee thanks for waiting I hope you guys like this one! Also if anyone has any suggestions of things you'd like to see in this story feel free to DM me, I'm always open to input! <3

[metyouinthehallway]

𝐓𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐄𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐫

Hockey!Matt x fem!Reader

Summary: Matt teaches the reader how to Ice skate!

Warnings: fluff, use of pet names.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Matt glides with ease across the ice rink, as he circles around the perimeter once, he chuckles when he sees you still struggling to balance yourself.

“C’mon, you got it pretty.” He smiles at you, holding out his hand for you to take. Your gloved fingers intertwine with his as Matt leads the two of you around the ice rink.

“It’s like riding a bike, gotta find your balance.” He slowly lets go of your hand and your first instinct is to cling onto the side walls. The cold air of the indoor arena tints your nose red and you can bet that you’ll need to moisturize thoroughly tonight.

“Not as good as you are, Matt! Hold my hand again.” You squeal, not daring to lift your hand from the stability of the wall. Matt chuckles at your plea, gliding over to you again.

“Here, I’ll lead, you let go when you’re ready, yeah?” He takes the lead, skating backwards as he pulls you along with him. You look down at the ice you’re cutting through, watching the way Matt’s skates move, how they effortlessly coast along the shiny surface. You try your best to mirror his movements, weaving your legs in and out.

“Hey, I think I’m getting it!” You smile at him, proud of yourself, you decide to let go of him only to skate right back over to the wall that you were previously gripping on.

“It’d be even more fun if you came out to the middle, ya know?” He tries to convince you to stray out of your comfort zone. You slowly push off the wall, wobbling across the rink with your arms out at your side.

“Okay, shh, I think I’m doing it.” I silence him, even though he barely said a word to me. Matt does a few circles around me before coming up behind me, placing his hands on my hips to help balance me.

“There ‘ya go, doing so good.” He coos at you, helping to guide you across the ice rink. It was just the two of you, the cold atmosphere making his touch feel so much more serene and intimate.

“How did you do this for four whole years?” You inquire, genuinely curious as to how he didn’t fall on his ass multiple times throughout his high school hockey career.

“It’s call practice baby,” Matt lets out a breathy chuckle at your comment, maybe he’ll teach you how to play a bit of hockey next time. “You’ll get used to it, promise.” He slowly lets up from your hips, watching as you skate across the ice, growing more confident in your movements.

After a mere hour of skating around, you mutually agree to call it a night, Matt helping remove your skates. The two of you stop for hot cocoa on your way out before he starts to drive back to his house.

“Have fun?” He asks, turning his attention to you for a moment.

“I think I’m ready to compete in the Olympics for ice skating actually!” You joke, sipping on your cocoa. Matt reached for your hand, intertwining your fingers with his and resting on the center console of the car.

“Mm, I’d support you every step of the way, pretty girl.” He gives your hand a light squeeze, brining your knuckles up to his lips for a chaste kiss.

It’s little dates like this that make the best memories with him, you didn’t want to imagine a world without Matt in it.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

[cosmopretty]

caroline harvey x ice skater! reader ??

Caroline Harvey X Figure Skater Fem

————————————————————————————————

—————————————————————————————————

She is in love with watching you skate on the ice she is mesmerized by you

Loves your skating outfits so much

You guys met at Wisconsin when you accidentally delayed there practice

Going to college after winning the Olympics and being a normal person was all new for you. But the fact that the school had a skate rink, helped a ton. Right now you were skating across the ice, adding a turn or a jump every few steps. You didn’t notice when the gym door opened up and team of hockey players came in with the gear on ready to practice. The head coach Mark looks at you then back at the team “Wait one second I’ll ask her to get off the ice” he informs the girls. Lacey squeals grabbing KK’s arm “Holy shit that’s the Y/N Y/L she’s like a famous ice skater she got Olympic gold medals and all” she tells the girls shocked that you were in there rink right now.

You skate faster before doing three quads in a row landing them. You hear clapping and turn your head seeing a group of girls, you skate towards them and step out of the rink “I’m so sorry I didn’t know there was practice today” you apologize quickly. The coach nods at you and introduces himself “I’m Mark the coach it’s great to meet you I’ve heard a lot about you” he says. You smile “Thanks I’m Y/n” you say and Laila taps your shoulder “Your really talented you know” she says smiling ear to ear. You nod “Yeah I bet you guys are too” you smile.

Caroline thought you were the prettiest girl she has ever seen before “You looked really good on the ice it was beautiful” she compliments you. You turn your head to her and you look into her pretty blue eyes “Thank you, you have beautiful eyes” you say softly before coach motions for the girls to get on the ice. Caroline looks at coach then back at you “Here take my number I’m Caroline but you can call me KK” she tells you before grabbing your phone from your hand. You unlock it for her and she puts her number in before smiling at you and getting on the ice with her team, a blush covering her cheeks.

You wear her jerseys to all her games and she gets you the best seats every time you come to watch her

Caroline comes to all your competitions and practices just to watch you

She loves to skate with you when it’s just the two of you alone

You hold Caroline’s hands as you skate backwards pulling her along with you. She grabs your waist pulling you up in the air while she spins on the ice. You laugh “KK if you drop me I swear to god” you squeal as she spins you both faster before moving your legs to wrap around her waist. She hold you in her arms as she skates around you wrap your arms around her neck “Your so beautiful baby” she whispers one hand coming to pull your face closer to hers.

You rub your nose against hers “Yeah and you’re gorgeous” you tell her before pulling her lips against yours. She kisses back immediately and gently puts you back onto the ice before pulling away and grabbing your hand dragging you across the ice to skate with her, your hands interlocked. You let go and twirl around on the ice before smiling at her and grabbing her hand pulling her closer to you “Come on hot stuff show off for me” you beg. She smirks and starts skating way faster that you “Come on catch up with me baby” she says before you try to catch up but her being way to fast.

In love with doing your hair for you before competitions

She gets nervous when you have to practice or do a dangerous move

Always helps you when your injured or sore that goes both ways

Giving each others massages >>>

Forcing her to do Pilates with you

KK groans sitting back on the floor “I can’t do this my body is not flexible” she complains looking up at you. Rolling your eyes you bend down next to her “Come on it will be good for you now get your ass up and let’s go” you demand standing up and looking at her expectingly. She groans and stands up watching you “Okay so bend your knee into a lunge and bend your back backwards to grab your back foot” you tell her before doing exactly what you said.

She tried to copy your position before falling down “I quit I’m done” she says laughing sitting in her butt watching you do it by yourself. She flex’s her muscles in the mirror for you “See these you wish you had them this bullshit didn’t do that” KK says before sitting back leaning on her hands. You stop and look at her “You see this body you wish you had my waist” you wink. She shakes her head “No I love my big abs but I love looking at your body and feeling it” she grabbing you by the waist and pulling you on top of her. You laugh and move your hand to cup her cheek before kissing her, she kisses back and slides her tongue in your mouth. Laila walks into the gym and gags “NO NO NO GET A ROOM YOU FREAKS” she yells covering her eyes.

SHES SO PROTECTIVE OF YOU

she always finds a way to bring you up in conversations “My girlfriend is the best figure skater ever” “Oh Y/n yeah that’s my girl” “My girl is unreal on the ice you should watch her sometimes”

She tries to teach you hockey but it doesn’t always end up well

You look at KK holding the big hockey stick in your hand “I don’t think I can do it” you tell her honestly. She goes behind you and puts on hand above yours, enveloping yours “Just relax baby” she whispers moving you into a stance to hit the puck. You follow her lead and hit the puck and it flys across the ice before hitting the wall and coming back hitting you in the calve.

“Ow ow ow KK ow” you gasp, wincing holding your foot dropping the puck. Caroline picks you up bridle style trying not to laugh at you. You look up at her with a pout on your face “What’s so funny? I’m in real pain” you ask her while she carries you to the bench.

She lays you down and takes your skates off for you, she bites her lip to hide her laugh. Once the skates are off you kick her in the stomach “I asks what’s so funny?” you ask again. She laughs out loud “Your like impossible to play hockey with how do you get hurt doing nothing it’s hilarious” she laughs some more. You look at her dead faced with no emotion, so she grabs your waist brining you to sit on her lap. Caroline rubs your waist and kisses your head “I’m sorry baby it’s okay I love you sporty or not” she jokes. You roll your eyes and kiss her cheek “My calve really hurts tho” you say. She moves you on her lap to sit with your butt on the bench, your legs in her lap. She lifts your pants up and looks at the mark before rubbing it, you flinch “It’s gonna bruise I’m sorry mama” she says feeling bad that you got hurt and she was just joking about it. You shrug “It’s fine sweetheart I promise I love you” you say looking up at her.

You steal her jersey all the time

People say you guys are both iconic with how your both Olympics winners

THE TIKTOK EDITS GO CRAZY

She is in love and amazed on how flexible your body is *wink wink*

She calls you mama, baby, princess

You call her babe, sweetheart, baby

You guys have a good luck ritual where you tell each other I love you before a game or a competition

[cherrycherrylady2024]

Christmas with the Grimes'

(Dilf Rick Grimes x reader) Word count: 2,827

Warnings: 18+ drinking, mentions of sex/masturbation, flirting?

Chapter 4: Maybe in yours

Rick sipped at his whiskey, gazing out of the darkened window as you all but devoured your fried rice. Surprising nobody, he looked incredibly sexy in pajamas. Why is that always the case? It could be that it's more intimate. Private? No one expects to be seen in their pajamas. Your pajamas are yours alone, not typically to be shared with veritable strangers, yet here he was. He wore a black undershirt that clung to his hardened torso, long, thin, flannel pajama pants, and less-than-perfect hair, all of which had you hooked. He seemed to be in a trance, deep in thought. His thumb absent-mindedly stroked the ridges of his glass. It was fascinating, the fact that he could stand to bask in silence with you. Typically that sort of thing is reserved for very close friendships, where you don’t have to fill every second with yapping. When you’re comfortable with someone, entirely. Either he felt this comfortable, or he simply didn’t care about that sort of thing. Both were admirable.

Should you say something? No. Enjoy the silence. Suddenly he turned to you, his deep, somewhat sleepy-sounding voice breaking the spell of silence throughout the kitchen, “So, gonna tell me why you're awake?” Your eyes went wide and you nearly choked on the bite you had just taken. The question he posed was simple, light, not of great importance in normal terms, and thus did not denote the response you had. But this was not normal fucking terms. He took note of your reaction with a questioning glance. You chewed and swallowed, racking your brain for something to say. You tried to relax your face. Be bold, you reminded yourself. Fuck it. “I could ask you the same thing,” you replied, returning his gaze. He stared at you for a moment, as if weighing his options, before his face melted into a wry smile, “I just made you dinner, which you so rudely skipped earlier. You first.” He knocked back the rest of his whiskey. You were playing a game with each other. Except you didn’t know the rules. You tried to seem indifferent, sliding around the rice on your plate, “I had a weird dream. Woke me up.” He nodded with an unconvinced “Hm,” sliding his finger around the rim of the glass, “Wanna tell me about it?” he questioned. “No,” you declared bluntly. You cleared your throat, “I just- I don’t even remember what it was about.” Me when I lie.

He still seemed unconvinced but nodded his head. You took a bite of rice, “Your turn.” He chuckled dryly, staring out of the window again. He thought for a moment. “I just... I always seem to wake up ‘round this time. Don’t know why exactly. Started-” he stopped himself, “-well, a couple years past. I gave up tryin’ t’go back to sleep a long time ago,” He tilted his glass, reflecting the moonlight, “But havin’ a drink helps most nights.” This was the most words he had ever said to you, and you hung on every single one of them. You didn’t say anything. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to understand the implication he tried to play off. What were you supposed to say? The man can’t sleep at night because of his dead wife, were you supposed to crack a joke? He turned to you, “Not what you were hopin’ for?” he smiled. You let out a nervous exhale/laugh, “I don’t know what I was expecting. Maybe fighting crime?”

He chuckled and stood up with his glass. You felt a bolt of panic run through your body. Please don’t go. “I’m not Batman,” he said, walking over to the bar cart. He gave himself another splash of whiskey, then turned back to you with his hand on his hip, waiting for a rebuttal. The game continues. “Maybe in your dreams,” you teased.

“Maybe in yours."

He took another sip of whiskey as if he didn’t just make your heart stop in your chest. If this was a game, he seemed to be winning. There was no comeback to that. “You’re really not gonna tell me?” he said, ambling back over to the kitchen island. He leaned over it, propped up on his elbows across from you, and made inescapable eye contact. With the way he was leaning, his biceps were flexed hypnotically. You felt a nervous blush begin to grace your cheeks, still not responding. SAY SOMETHING! Your mind was blank. “It must’ve been a scary dream to wake you up,” he prodded. It was beginning to feel like an interrogation, but why was he pushing? What was the goal? Did he know something? You were being sort of sketchy about it, but with good reason. “I wasn’t scared,” you mumbled, “When I woke up, I mean.”

“No?” he nodded his head in thought, “Interesting.”

“Not really.”

“I like to think so.”

“Why do you care?”

“Because dreams can tell ‘ya a lot about a person.”

“And why do you want to know who I am as a person?”

He paused momentarily, thinking. You had been face to face, throwing your words back and forth between you both. You liked it. You were learning the rules of the game. He mulled over what to say and you wondered if he has the same conversations in his head as you do. Is he thinking be bold?

“Because you're my daughter's roommate. It’d be a comfort to know you’re not a serial killer.”

Guess not. You didn’t break eye contact.

“Well rest assured my dream was far from anything like that.”

“Ha! So you do remember!” He exclaimed, pushing away from the counter, leaving his whiskey. Fuck. You let your face drop into your hands, in frustration. “This isn’t fair,” you complain, “your job is interrogating people.” He chuckled, pleased with himself, “Part of it, yes.” He leaned against the counter behind him, his hands gripping the lip. The tinny stove light which he had flicked on while cooking, highlighted his features. You could see the veins in his hands, the definition of his forearms, and the smug grin on his stupid sexy handsome dumb face. You had to do something. You wanted to keep playing. You reached out and slid his half-empty glass of whiskey towards you. He didn’t move, the look on his face still the same, “That’s not yours.” You looked up at him slyly as you silenced every part of your brain with any sense. You brought your middle finger to your mouth, and gently wet the tip of it with your tongue. You didn’t break eye contact as Rick studied every move you made.

You brought your finger down to the glass and began circling the rim. Before long a reverberating humming sound filled the room. He observed you for a moment before slowly coming back over, leaning across the counter towards you. You stop and look up at him through your lashes, “Can I have some?” Without missing a beat he responds, “Will you tell me what your dream was about?” You scoffed, “No.” He smiled, and took the glass back, “Then no.” You sighed, unsatisfied. He took another sip, a twinkle in his eye. You were struck with a mental image of a lion, playing with its food. You were his to play with, and he knew it. He liked this too. A few consecutive moments of silent tension passed, and neither of you broke eye contact. Without warning, he straightened up, “You should be gettin’ back to bed now.” Your heart sank in your chest. What happened? Did you do something wrong? It was past 3 am now, and he was probably right… but he would have to drag you out kicking and screaming to get you to leave him. “I’m not tired, I just slept like 8 hours. I’m ready to start the day,” you joked. He chuckled as he finished his whiskey, “You do that. I’m callin’ it a night.” He placed his empty glass in the sink definitively. There didn’t seem to be anything you could do to stop him. You tried to hide the crestfallen expression written all over your face. He walked over and grabbed your empty plate from behind, and in the same breath, his left hand came down to rest upon your shoulder. You felt the heat of his hand, the pad of his thumb stroking your bare skin imperceptibly. He leaned down just slightly towards your ear, “Sweet dreams, honey.” His hand gave your shoulder a small squeeze and before you knew it he had put the plate in the sink and was gone. You sat there, mouth agape, for an embarrassing amount of time, until you could hear his bedroom door close upstairs.

Fuck.

You returned to your bedroom in a daze, your mind blank. Passing by his door you had a fleeting thought. You imagined what he would do if you just walked right in. Joined him in bed. You wondered if he would even be surprised. You could picture the look on his face with the utmost clarity. For the first time, not every single part of you dismissed the idea as nonsense. You put on your pajamas and get into your own bed. You stared at your ceiling, willing yourself to fall back asleep, to no avail. You weren’t tired. Your mind and body were in a frenzy of activity.  You thought of his arms, propped on the counter. His finger, delicately tracing the details in his whiskey glass. The look in his eyes as you played your game of verbal chess. His hand, unbearably caressing your shoulder. It was all too much. You turned over, trying to shake it off, coming to face his blanket. You breathed in his scent, and as your hand traveled down your body, you decided there were other ways to tire yourself out.

“Good morning!” All of the air was squeezed out of your lungs at the sudden weight on top of you. Half asleep, you tried to push off Judith who had jumped on and was now crushing you. “Off” you gasped. She rolled over, smiling playfully. “I already let you miss dinner, you’re not missing breakfast too,” she declared, shaking you. “I’m awake!” you exclaimed, shoving her away from you. She laughed, “Well you should be. You slept like 12 hours.” You grunted in response, rubbing your eyes. The clock read 8:13 AM. You groggily followed Judith downstairs through the kitchen. It felt like an entirely different world compared to last night. You were led to the quaint dining room right off the kitchen, where Carl sat eating cereal. Rick sat at the head of the table, his face obscured in the newspaper. “G’morning y/n!” Carl exclaimed. Rick flicked a corner of the newspaper down, his eyes skimming over you, “How’d ya sleep?” He knew what he was doing. “Better,” you replied, returning his knowing look. Judith plopped herself down across from Carl, leaving the other end of the table open for you. You settled in, directly across from Rick, who lowered the newspaper towards the table. “Help yourself to whatever you like, y/n,” he said, still reading. There were a few different boxes of cereal, some deep brown pancakes, eggs, bacon which verged on burnt, fruit, and orange juice. Your fried rice had not stuck with you, so you helped yourself to everything. Knowing that Rick cooked it, burnt food had never tasted so good. Judith, who had clearly gotten used to Rick's cooking, was busy polishing off two pancakes drenched in butter and syrup.

“So, what are you girls getting up to today?” Rick questioned, sipping his coffee. Judith chewed thoughtfully, “Mm, well, I think I’ll drive y/n around town, show her KCHS. Maybe we’ll go ice skating too, it’s ‘sposed to be colder today.” Rick nodded, “Tomorrow ya’ have to take Carl with you. Think up what you guys can do.” Judith groaned in protest, slumping in her chair. “I don’t want to babysit, Dad” she complained. Rick had a look on his face like he’d heard this a thousand times, “It’s not babysitting if it’s your brother. He’s going over to Sophia’s today for her birthday, but tomorrow you’re watchin’ him. Drag him shopping with you.” Both Carl and Judith groaned. “I need to do some Christmas shopping still. I’d hate to go to the toy store alone…” you offered. Carl brightened up then, as did Rick who gave you an approving look. “You should get your sister a gift for putting up with ‘ya. Maybe y/n too,” Rick said, standing and ruffling Carl's hair. It was only then that you noticed he was in uniform, his shirt unbuttoned showing his white tee beneath it. For some reason, you had been blind to the fact that, obviously, he still had to work. You felt a wave of disappointment overtake you, realizing you wouldn’t see him again until that evening. At least you would be distracted for a while. Rick began buttoning up his shirt. He bent down and kissed Judith on the head, “Be good, girls. Drop Carl off at Carol's around 10:30, okay?” Judith nodded, cutting another bite of pancakes. He smiled and winked at you, “Have a good day,” and exited.

He smiled. And winked.

...Which could mean nothing. 

After dropping off Carl, Judith showed you around town. King County was completely decked out for the holiday season, which helped to brighten your spirits. It was like a Hallmark movie. She showed you her high school, her old softball field, her favorite coffee shop where you had the best hot chocolate of your life, and finally the ice skating rink. You were interested in it all, of course, but you couldn’t keep your mind from continually trespassing into forbidden territory. You counted down the seconds until you’d see him again. Two of Judith's friends from home met you both at the rink, providing further distraction. You tried your best. The four of you sat, lacing up your skates as they reminisced. You found yourself zoning out, giving up trying to tie your laces. “Do you need help?” You looked up. Judith’s friend, stood before you, a smile on his face, his skates impeccably laced. He had introduced himself earlier but you couldn’t quite remember his name. David? Daniel? He was still waiting for a reply. “Oh! Uh yes, thanks. I never do these right,” you say. He chuckles and kneels down in front of you, “It’s okay, I used to be the same way before I started hockey.” You didn’t say anything. You didn’t really care, to be honest. It felt like no one mattered but Rick. He laced up your skates in silence and stood with a satisfied smile, extending his hand to you. It took you a moment to register before you took his hand and shakily stood. David/Daniel offered his arm to help you walk over to the rink, “Uh I’m okay. Thanks,” you said, smiling half-heartedly. He nodded and walked over to Judith and her friend (Marsha! You remembered triumphantly), and you followed wobbling behind.

The four of you made your way to the ice rink, which was surprisingly full for a weekday. David/Daniel and Marsha entered the rink before a group passed the entrance. As you and Judith waited to enter, she turned to you, her eyes alight, “Dude. He totally likes you!” she exclaimed. You furrowed your brows, “Who?” She rolled her eyes, “Daniel! He had total heart eyes the second he saw you!” she deepened her voice, mocking Daniel, “Oh my god, like, do you need help? Ha ha I play hockey, wanna get married?” You knew you were supposed to find this funny, so you laughed, brushing it off, “Oh my god, no. He was just being nice, he doesn’t even know me.” Judith wiggled her eyebrows at you playfully and shrugged before entering the rink, with surprising agility. They all seemed to be able to skate very well, and you didn’t have the heart to tell them you had actually never been ice skating before. It was colder today, and your breath floated away in white puffs. You didn’t want Daniel to like you. It was fucked up, but you were developing a distaste for normalcy. He was your age, he was nice and fairly attractive. But it didn’t matter. You didn’t want him. You wanted nobody but Rick. Something had changed within you, the fire had been stoked to an inferno and you couldn’t turn away. You will play Rick’s game, your rules or his, and you will win. You set your brow, feeling righteous and determined, and entered the ice. 

You made it about 2.5 seconds before what appeared to be an 8-year-old whizzed past you, causing you to lose your balance and eat shit.

Or ice, rather.

***

notes: sorry for the long wait but here it is! I'm already almost done with the next chapter so that will also be out in the next few days. Enjoy!

[lockes-woods]

9; Naughty or Nice

Day 9 of Locke's 10-day countdown to the new year!

Prompt: I was thinking a sub leaning shanks x AFAB reader, ice skating scene with a marking kink?

Requested by: @crow-twink

Taglist @nocturnalrorobin

Warnings: Cumming in pants, brat Shanks, marking kink

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

“Shanks, stop,” you laughed, as your partner magically recovered from almost ‘falling’ by grabbing your right hand in his left and interlacing your fingers.

“Stop what?” He asked, tone neutral until a laugh bubbled in his throat at the sight of you giving him side-eye.

“You’re not gonna gaslight me. Not today, not ever,” You say in a faux serious tone, “Speaking of you seem to be doing really well for someone who’s ‘never’ gone ice skating before.”

“Beginner’s luck?” he suggested, you’d believe he was being genuine if it weren’t for the wide smirk plastered on his face. You shook your head, unable not to smile back at your partner’s antics. A peaceful silence settled over you, as you enjoyed each other’s company. None of the children acting out, the adults trying to discipline them, or the loud Christmas music playing on a loop could ruin the joy you shared at being in each other’s presence. You stayed on the ice for about another half hour. Once you’d felt like you had got your money’s worth you both made your way back to the entrance to get off the ice. You were almost too focused on untying your borrowed skates to notice the hot smell of food surrounding the outdoor ice rink. You immediately perked up at the smell of hot apple cider wafting over you by a nearby stand. Your stomach grumbled at the idea of food, just now realizing how hungry you were.

“Would you like a snack before we leave?” Shanks asked, smiling down at you.

“Yeah,” you replied, as your face began to warm, “Do you want to get some cider and funnel cake?”

“Sound perfect,” Shanks confirmed as you exchanged your skates back for your shoes.

“Kay,” you nodded, “I can get the cider,” you said gauging the lines, “want to meet over there?” you asked nodding at a small area with picnic tables.

“Sounds like a plan,” Shanks said, the soft look he always gave you plastered on his face. Despite how long you’ve been a couple you don’t think you’ll ever not get flustered by the way he looked at you. You parted ways after lacing up your shoes. The line for cider had doubled in the time it took for you to get there. You waited patiently scrolling on your phone to pass the time. You perked up at the sight of the reusable novelty mugs they offered. You opted to get Shanks the one shaped like a Santa head with extra whipped cream, while you got the more grown-up version of a plain mug with golden reindeer etched into the sides. You unconsciously hummed to yourself as you made your way back to the sitting area. You paused as your partner came into view. Even with all the red decorations around you were easily able to spot his tall form against the crowd. You unconsciously frowned as along with him a woman dressed in a short-cut red dress, with a white trim and Santa hat, came into view as well.

You normally weren’t one to get jealous, but something inside of you snapped when she gently squeezed his bicep, stepping into his personal space. It wasn’t just her nerve to touch him like he was hers, no what really made you mad was how natural she looked doing it. You walked over to them with purpose, slowed down by the crowd and your two hot drinks. Once you were within shouting distance, Shanks immediately perked up at the sight of you.

“Hey, love,” he greeted you with a warm smile, giving you all of his attention, “I know we might not be able to finish it all, but I couldn’t choose between the ice cream-topped funnel cake or the churro one, so I got both.”

“They look great,” you said with a tight-lipped smile, ignoring the women altogether. You gave her a chance to walk away, which she did not take. Instead, she opted to clear her throat, pulling both your and Shanks’s attention back to her. Your smile dropped.

“So, yeah anyway,” she started completely ignoring you, “Their food’s amazing I can give you the address.”

“O-oh, um actually I don’t have my phone on me,” Shanks replied, a slight tinge of red appearing high on his cheekbones.

“Oh, can you just take it for him?” she asked, finally acknowledging you. You took a deep breath through your nose, trying to calm yourself from her blatant audacity.

“That’s not gonna happen,” you dismissed, doing your best to ignore her antics altogether. You brushed past her and made your way to the seating area; you didn’t have to look back to know Shanks was hot on your tail.

“So, is this one plain with the ice cream?” You asked as Shanks sat down across from you. You opted to ignore what just happened for the sake of not making a scene.

“Yeah, it’s Neapolitan ice cream, and the other is made with a churro dough with cinnamon sugar and caramel drizzle,” he explained, taking a long swig from his Santa mug. You talked mindlessly as you dug into the desert. Shanks was right, despite your best efforts you weren’t able to eat both of the massive portions of funnel cake. While you still weren’t over the earlier interaction you did your best not to let it ruin your day.

You made your way home hand in hand, silently enjoying each other’s company. Despite how lovely the outing was for the most part, your mind kept going back woman from earlier. While you didn’t want to admit it out loud, you were 100% jealous along with angry at her brashness. You began to fester in it the closer and closer you got to your apartment. To the point that any of Shanks's attempts at a conversation were immediately shot down. Once you were home you let go of Shanks’s hand in a huff before going straight to the kitchen to wash your new mugs. Shanks put his mug down next to yours as you ignored him. He perched his head on top of yours and wrapped his arms around your middle.

“Everything alright love?” he asked as you aggressively scrubbed at the dishes from the night before.

“Yeah,” you answered, not diverting your attention from the task at hand.

“This has nothing to do with that woman, does it?” he asked, as you placed the last dish on the drying rack.

“I don’t know, why don’t you ask her?” You said putting down the sponge with twice the amount of force needed.

“Love, we only talked for a minute.” Shanks started.

“Yeah, well it was a minute too long,” you said, clearly agitated as you turned around in his arms to face him.

“She touched you,” you huffed.

“Baby, nothing happened, she was just being friendly,” Shanks said, moving to cup your face with his hands.

“Yeah, too friendly,” you argued, puffing out your cheeks slightly in annoyance.

“Love, I’m sure it wasn’t intentional.” Shanks started before you cut him off.

“She continued to try and get your number after I showed up. It was obvious to anyone who was listening that she didn’t care whether or not you had a partner!” You argued.

“Maybe she missed that?” he offered up knowing he was never gonna win this argument.

“But you’re mine,” you finally broke, full possessiveness on display.

“What do you want me to do?” he prompted, “Wear a collar with your information on it?”

“No, but I can think of something else that might help,” you said grabbing his wrist and dragging him over to the couch. You pushed him backward onto it, before straddling him. You pulled him into a desperate kiss, grinding down on his lap. He let out a muffled moan, you took the small window of time and thrusted your tongue into his mouth, dominating the kiss. He groaned in response, rubbing up and down your sides with his hands. He gasped as you pulled back and began to start nipping and sucking at his neck, openly moaning as you continued to mark him up while still grinding down on his lap.

“Fuck, love,” he moaned out. You reveled in the small gasps and groans you were able to pull from your love. He began to grind up to meet your core. He gasped and moaned unabashedly, getting closer and closer to his release. You listened for the telltale sounds he made before cumming, taking the opportunity to still your hips.

“Fuck, please,” he said desperately, a whimper pulling deep in his throat. You pulled back from his neck, admiring the hickey and nips blooming against his tanned skin.

“I don’t know, do you think you’ve earned it?” you asked teasingly.

“Nhg please, I’ll be a good boy please,” he pleaded, closing his eyes as he basked in his pleasure. You finally relented, meeting his desperate grinds, he only lasted a few seconds before ruining both your pairs of pants.

“Fuck, you’re so hot when you’re jealous.” He confessed, still spent from his high. His eyes immediately snapped open once he realized what he just said.

“Is that right love?” you asked, smirking down at him.

“N-no, I just meant-”

“Oh, baby I know exactly what you meant.” You said, “You should save your breath though. You’re going to need to ration your energy.” You finished, stripping off your shirt as you stood up and began to make your way to the bathroom. Shanks was hot on your tail, needing no further explanation to know he was fucked in the best possible way.

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A/N: Just wanted to say a very merry christmas and happy hannukah to all those who celebrate. I hope you enjoyed this first fic of the day ^-^

MASTERLIST

[m00nprincessai]

Satoru Gojo

Cause I wanted to fly, so you gave me your wings [ANYPOV] Figure Skating Partners

aka-- Gojo on Ice Satoru Gojo is the greatest figure skater in the world.

But after winning his third solo olympic god medal the previous season--- and having countless other medals to his name--- he had begun to grow bored. He's broken records, taken titles--- landed jumps most thought impossible-- nothing was a challenge anymore. He was almost disillusioned with the sport until he saw a video of an amateur skater skating one of his old routines. You. Now you find yourself flown out to Tokyo to meet the man himself and potentially become his new skating partner.

[powerful-niya]

— (вεтωεεη υs.)

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚hαppч nαruhínα mσnth єvєrчσnє!

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚𝙳𝚎𝚌𝚎𝚖𝚋𝚎𝚛 𝟹𝟷: 𝚂𝚝𝚘𝚕𝚎𝚗 𝙶𝚕𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚎𝚜 + 𝙲𝚊𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝙸𝚗 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚁𝚊𝚒𝚗 - (𝙽𝙷𝚖𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚑𝟸𝟹)

Link To Oneshot Below ↴

Wattpad | AO3

Pairing˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚Naruhina

Synopsis˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡If you had to choose between doing what you love and being with who you love, could you make that choice?

Naruto and Hinata, the top figure skating duo from Japan, have effortlessly conquered every challenge they've encountered on the ice together. But now, they're up against a new challenge—one that's found in their hearts, rather than on the ice.

This challenge is a love unplanned—a love constrained by a strict contract, putting them both in a very difficult position.

Regular Tags˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ Caught In The Rain • Competitive Skating • Competitive Sports • Contract • Contractual Obligations • Costumes • Drama • December 28 • December 31 • Figure Skating • Forbidden Love • Friends To Lovers • Heavy Angst • Hurt & Comfort• Ice Skating • Love Confessions • Modern AU • Mutual Pining • Partner Skaters • Pretending • Professional Skaters • Romance • Sports AU • Stolen Glances • Tryst • Unplanned Love • Work Partners to Lovers • 2023. 

NSFW Tags˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ Body Worship • Bus Sex • Butt Groping • Celebrity Bus • Cock Worship • Couch Sex • Dirty Talk • Desperation • Desperation Sex • Fantasies & Fantasizing • Flexibility • Longing • Loss of control • Love Making (at first) • Marathon sex • Multiple Orgasms • Overstimulation • Praise Kink • Pussy Worship • Riding • Rough sex (soon after) • Sex in a crisis situation • Size Difference Kink • Spanking • Stripping • Striptease • Stockings • Unprotected Sex  • Vaginal Sex  • 2023. 

Overall Word Count˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚17.1K

Tumblr Post: Word Count˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚4.3K

Preview ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

Pretending can be a tricky game. 

For some people, it's a breeze—they can slip in and out of different personas as easily as flipping a switch, putting on a convincing act at the drop of a hat or a snap of their fingers. 

Some people actually have a closet full of masks for their pretending, ready to wear whichever one fits the moment perfectly to hide behind. They switch between these masks as easily as changing clothes, effortlessly adapting to any situation like it's second nature.

Like if it was nothing, nothing at all. 

For others, pretending is a struggle—a constant effort that takes a lot of trial and error before they finally get the hang of it.

But for Naruto, pretending wasn't just difficult. It wasn't a minor bump in the road he'd get over soon. It wasn't something he'd get used to or get good at with time or a bit more effort.

No. 

He didn't have the luxury of switching between masks or hiding behind them whenever he wanted, like some people. Pretending wasn't a game or something he did for fun—it was a draining, relentless battle that wore him down every single day.

Pretending was, without a doubt, the hardest thing Naruto had ever faced—the toughest challenge he'd ever had to endure.

And he'd faced plenty of challenges.

As one of the top Japanese male ice skaters in the world, he'd been put through the wringer more times than he could count.

Countless hours of grueling practice, intense competitions, and crushing expectations had pushed him to his limits time and time again, demanding that he give nothing less than his absolute best. 

Each session was a test of endurance for him, and every routine was a shot for him to outshine the competition.

After all, Naruto was a pretty driven man, always pushing himself past the limits set by others to prove himself and excel. And on top of the grueling physical demands, he also had to confront the doubts cast on him as a male skater—doubts that seemed to shadow every step he took.

It was tough. 

Really tough. 

Every time he laces up his skates and hits the ice, he's up against a challenge. But it's one he actually enjoys—the ice, the skating, the music, the cheers, the sweat, the exhaustion, and, most of all, proving everyone wrong.

He loves proving all the doubters wrong—naysayers who said he couldn't do it and the debbie downers who whined that ice skating was a women's sport. 

Naruto even gets a kick out of showing up the critics who claimed he was confused about his identity, out of touch with himself, and that ice skating made him less of a man.

Indeed, proving those people wrong by doing what he loved was fun.

Naruto has spent countless hours on the ice—skating was all he'd ever known, the rhythm of the blades, the chill of the rink, and the thrill of the performance were deeply ingrained in him. Every glide and spin had become second nature, an integral part of who he was.

But there was one thing that stood apart from all of that…

Or rather, one person.

Hinata Hyūga. 

His skating partner.

Naruto stood in the designated waiting area near the rink, his eyes fixed on her as she skated across the ice gracefully. He watched Hinata from the sidelines, waiting for his cue, the precise moment when the music would signal him to join Hinata on the rink.

But for now, it was just her. Just Hinata.

And Naruto watched her in awe. 

He was always in awe of her. 

The blonde skater watched almost in a trance as his partner performed with her opening solo for the prestigious "ISU Grand Prix Of Figure Skating" in Hollywood, LA, California. 

The intensity of the competition was palpable, and the stakes had never felt higher.

The entire arena was hushed, with only the soft scraping of her white skates on the ice, the sweeping classical music, and the occasional gasps and murmurs from the crowd breaking the silence. Every spectator, even the judges, held their breath, captivated by Hinata's mesmerizing performance, all eyes glued to the rink.

Naruto's included.

Hinata's costume dress was a breathtaking piece, its fabric fluttering around her like the delicate feathers of a swan gliding through a gentle breeze. The lights from the arena overhead danced off the glittering embellishments of her costume, causing her dress to shimmer and shine. 

Her costume was the perfect fit to the competition theme: Black Swan. 

Hinata's dress was a striking blend of black and white, split down the middle. The left side was a deep, velvety black, adorned with shimmering sequins that caught the arena's light with every move she made. 

The right side of her dress was a pristine, snowy white, contrasting beautifully with the dark side, adorned with tiny sparkles and swirls. 

Her long gloves followed the same theme, one black and one white, each decorated with delicate sparkles that extended from her hands up to her forearms, matching her dress perfectly. Her usually long, midnight blue hair was elegantly styled into a neat bun on the top of her head, completing her flawless look for the competition. 

Naruto wore a matching outfit to hers, of course. 

He wore a one-piece costume that began with a pristine white at the top, gradually transitioning into a deep black down his toned torso and legs, with white swirls accentuating the color shift.

His right sleeve was all white, while his left sleeve was solid black, creating a striking contrast similar to Hinata's costume.

His costume fit the theme, sure, and it matched his partner's costume, but it was nowhere near as spectacular as Hinata's.

No way.

Hinata seemed to nail the theme perfectly, gliding in sync with the music—a classic piece that everyone would surely recognize.

"Swan Lake" by Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky. 

She surely embodied a swan, her every movement smooth and graceful, just like a swan gliding effortlessly across a lake. The way she floated across the ice, her costume shimmering with each turn, made it look as if she was dancing on air.

Naruto couldn't help but be completely mesmerized by how beautifully Hinata brought the theme to life. 

She was utterly breathtaking.

Graceful yet powerful—that's how Hinata always skated. 

Watching her was like peering straight into her soul with each performance.

She poured everything into her routine. 

She always did. 

From her delicate facial expressions to the emotions that flowed through her movements, and the graceful sweep of her arms as they reached out and then drew back—each performance was a stunning story told through her skating.

This time was no different.

As Hinata performed her solo tonight, she told a powerful story about the strength that comes from being vulnerable. Her movements to the music spoke of the courage it takes to expose one's true self, capturing the delicate balance between strength and authenticity.

It was truly extraordinary.

And on top of that, Hinata made the routine they'd been perfecting for months—through countless rehearsals, late nights, and early mornings—look so damn effortless. 

Hinata glided smoothly from one move to the next, transitioning seamlessly between spins and jumps, just as they had practiced together, just as she had come to memorize down to the finest detail.

Her spins were flawless. 

Naruto watched in awe as she effortlessly transitioned into a fast-paced layback spin, finishing with a graceful camel spin that left delicate circular marks on the ice. 

Her jumps were just as stunning, with perfect double axels and triple lutzes that had her soaring and spinning through the air, leaving the crowd breathless.

She landed on her blades with a satisfying clank each time, back on her feet like a true professional.

Hinata nailed every move flawlessly, putting on a jaw-dropping performance that would definitely set the bar high for the other skaters and likely earn them both some serious points with the judges.

But Naruto wasn't thinking about the competition at all. 

He wasn't thinking about their potential scores. He wasn't concerned about the judges' opinions or even his routine when it was his turn to join Hinata on the ice.

No, he wasn't thinking about any of that.

Naruto's focus was solely on her, the woman dazzling him from the ice, whose lavender eyes occasionally met his own. 

Once. 

Twice. 

Frequently, Hinata glanced at him as she danced across the rink, her lavender eyes seeking him out from the waiting area, hidden from the audience.

Each time their eyes locked—deep blue meeting soft lavender—it felt like the world around them melted further and further into a blur…

…until it was just the two of them. 

The audience's loud wows and awes, the judges' scrutinizing looks, the flashing cameras, the bright arena lights, the announcer's voices, and even the stadium itself—all of it just faded away.

It was only them—just them.

And soon enough, Hinata wasn't skating for the crowd but for…

…him.

It was always like this between them: fleeting, longing but secretive looks where their gazes created warm, private moments just for them. 

Every time they performed together, whenever their hands touched or their bodies brushed close, they were drawn into a private world of their own making. 

Those looks they exchanged, every second of every day, were a silent yearning for something they both desired but couldn't fully embrace—a longing that always seemed just out of reach.

Naruto couldn't ignore what he felt. He couldn't pretend. 

Sure, he could try. 

Sure, he could push his feelings aside. He could convince himself that what he felt was just a passing phase, and that he will just get over it soon. 

Sure, he could try to act like it didn't bother him and play along, but deep down, he knew he'd only be lying to himself.

The feelings he had been struggling with for so long were impossible to ignore now.

A mistake that's come to consume him. 

When Naruto first teamed up with Hinata, he signed a contract that was clear about one thing: no intimate relationships. 

As long as he pursued ice skating professionally with a partner, he wasn't allowed to fall in love or let emotions get in the way of his career.

He knew that.

They both did. 

Naruto always understood what he was signing up for, knew the strict rules, and was clear on what was expected of him.

Because of this, he knew he shouldn't be feeling this way and was fully aware of the risks of letting these emotions take over. He knew exactly how his coach would react if she found out—what she'd do if she discovered his secret.

Their secret. 

Naruto knew the stakes. 

If their secret were ever discovered, it would mean the end of their figure skating careers.

Everything they'd worked so hard for—the endless hours of practice, the sacrifices made, the competitions won, the fame they'd gained, and their very dreams—were at risk of being ruined.

All because love had somehow crept in and gotten in the way.

Suddenly, the music built to a crescendo, growing louder and louder all around, snapping Naruto out of his thoughts.

His cue to take the ice. 

"Damn it," He muttered, shaking his head to snap himself out of it. That was a mistake—a big one. 

He couldn't afford to space out. 

Not here. 

Not now.

He took a deep, steadying breath, pushing aside the swirling thoughts and annoying emotions that clung to him. 

Then he exhaled, letting it all go.

It's showtime. 

Naruto rubbed his hands together to shake off the tension, and took one more calming breath.

"Here goes." He whispered to himself, before finally, darting out onto the ice.

The icy chill of the arena hit Naruto instantly, chilling his face, body, and legs. The cold air blended with the crisp, slippery feel of the ice beneath his skates. 

Naruto could never grow tired of it—the ice. It was a feeling so familiar, as natural as breathing to him at this point. Every time he stepped onto it, it felt like reconnecting with an old friend he always looked forward to seeing again.

And it felt that way now. 

His taut calf muscles tightened with each powerful push he gave his legs, his black skates carving a swift, graceful path across the ice.

The ice hummed a satisfying, almost musical whisper under Naruto's skates, grounding him in the moment. He mentally rehearsed his routine, syncing with it as he joined Hinata on the rink.

Hinata was already in position, gliding effortlessly across the ice toward him. In that moment, Naruto could see nothing but her—her radiant smile, the rosy flush on her cheeks from the cold, and the sparkle in her lavender eyes. 

He met her in the center of the rink with a big grin, and they seamlessly slipped into a synchronized spin. They twirled around each other, close yet so far. 

They didn't touch—just gazed at each other, eyes locked the whole time. 

Blue meeting lavender, once again.

The sight of Naruto and Hinata finally skating together, their chemistry ignited instantly, sending fireworks of excitement across the entire arena. Their connection was evident even on the arena's TVs, causing the crowd to instantly erupt into a frenzy. 

Gasps and cheers merged into a collective roar that filled the entire space.

The announcers, just as thrilled, could barely contain their excitement over the intercom.

"And here he comes, folks—Naruto Uzumaki, joining his partner Hinata Hyūga after her stunning introductory solo!"

"The way they connect is absolutely breathtaking. Just so breathtaking. This is partner skating at its finest, and we are in for a treat tonight, folks!"

Now together, Naruto and Hinata instantly transitioned into their routine, as they'd done it a million times before.

Just for this moment. 

Hinata took the lead, maintaining their synchronized spin as she gracefully lifted one arm to the rhythm of the music, watching as Naruto mirrored her movements flawlessly. His arm swept down and up above his head in a sweeping arc, just like hers, as if she were looking into a mirror.

She moved her other arm the same way, and Naruto followed suit. 

Next, Hinata extended her hand toward him this time, her fingers forming a dramatic claw before slowly curling into a fist as she pulled away, and Naruto mirrored her.

But they never quite touched. 

Each time they reached, they always pulled back. 

Reach. Retreat. Reach. 

Closer and closer, but never quite touching. 

Like a cycle. 

A painful one.

This part of their routine always spoke to them. It shouldn't have—really. It shouldn't have had any impact on them, but..

…it did. 

It perfectly mirrored the feelings they had for each other, always managing to leave a poignant ache in their hearts—a longing for something they both wanted but couldn't have.

No matter how many times they repeated it. 

No matter how many times they practiced it.

The ache remains.

Naruto's eyes revealed such pain, such raw emotion as he watched Hinata glide backward from the center of the rink, moving away from him and further along the ice.

She kept her knees slightly bent, her legs extending and crossing each other like the delicate sway of a ballet's legs. Her skates traced elegant arcs on the ice as she spiraled backward, leaving a long trail behind. 

But even as Hinata drifted away from Naruto, her hand stretched out toward him, her eyes pleading for him to take it. 

Naruto followed her, reaching back.

His arm stretched out through the cold air, determined to bridge the gap between them.

They reached for each other, incorporating a few individual spins where they spun perfectly in sync, even landing together, before turning and reaching out again.

They drew out the moment for dramatic effect, with Hinata gliding smoothly backward and Naruto advancing just enough until their hands finally….

…met.

But when their hands finally touched, it seemed to ignite a powerful rush of warmth that pulsed through their gloves and into their palms like a heartbeat, spreading through their bodies in soothing waves.

The sensation felt incredible—better than anything they had experienced before. 

They had touched countless times, but this..

This was different.

The moment Naruto's large fingers slid between the gaps of Hinata's smaller ones, and curled around her hand, a deep, unparalleled warmth unfurled in both of their hearts. 

The surprising intensity of the warmth made them both gasp softly. Their fingers instinctively tightened around each other, the connection so strong and reassuring that they couldn't bear to let go. 

Not now.

Not so soon. 

Keeping her hand in his, Naruto guided Hinata's arm over her head and twisted her in a graceful spin perfectly in sync with the music. He skated himself over in a smooth glide, positioning himself directly behind her like her shadow. 

Close behind her, he began sliding his hands gently along her arms, and Hinata couldn't hold back the slight moan that escaped her lips. 

Naruto touched her now, and he took it slow.

Along her chest, his gloved fingers brushed the fabric of her costume, feeling the rise and fall of her breath. His hands moved down the gentle curve of her torso, tracing the contours of her muscles, and he felt her body react to his touch almost instantly, with soft shivers and quivers.

Finally, his hands reached her waist, holding her hips firmly yet gently.

Even in the cold of the stadium, with a chill all around them, Hinata felt warm beneath his fingertips.

She was savoring the moment, just as she always did, whenever she was in Naruto's arms.

His touch was always gentle, but now, to Hinata, it felt almost heightened. Every brush of his fingers felt like a trail of fire on her skin, each caress sending electric shivers down her spine.

It was like time slowed to a crawl, and all she could feel was Naruto.

His breath as it brushed against her ears and cheeks, warm and steady. The heat of his toned body as it pressed so close to hers, making her acutely aware of every inch of him...

And his touch...

Hinata always treasured the moments when Naruto touched her. 

Those fleeting instances when his hands met her skin always seem to send a delightful warmth coursing through her body, radiating like a beacon. Whether his strong yet gentle hands glided along her arms, gripped her hips, or lifted her into the air, a soothing, irresistible heat enveloped her whenever he made contact with…her body.

It shouldn't have felt this way, but it did—like a perfect antidote to her touch-starved dreams.

Hinata glanced back at him with a breathless look that made Naruto's heart skip a beat. Her lavender eyes drew him in every time, their expressiveness saying more than words ever could. 

And as he gazed into them now, they seemed to speak to him, whispering…

"Please touch me more, Naruto-kun. Touch me."

It was a gentle, unspoken plea, a tender whisper in her eyes as she looked over her shoulder at him, standing tall behind her.

Naruto bit his lip. 

Truly, he wished he could touch her more. 

Her body always responded so beautifully to his touch, expanding and contracting as if he were the air she breathed, always returning to him with a graceful, magnetic pull. It was intoxicating.

He craved more. He craved—

The blonde skater took a deep breath, trying to clear his mind. Again. 

Reluctant as he was, and how good it was to hold Hinata, he knew he had to put an end to it.

After all, this was a serious competition.

With that realization, Naruto broke away from their intimate moment, shaking off the titillating effect of touching Hinata, and his expression turned serious again. He refocused and shifted his attention to the next part of their routine. 

But when he did, it seemed as if time snapped back to its usual pace, flowing normally like it did for everyone else.

Naruto grasped her waist firmly, and as if on cue, Hinata bent her knees, poised and ready, just like he was. 

The split-second cue he had been waiting for.

With a smooth lift, he sent her soaring into the air in a high twist. Her dress billowed out around her in a perfect spiral, drawing gasps from the crowd as it fluttered like a blooming flower.

Naruto watched as she flew high into the air, spinning gracefully. And in that quick moment, he caught a glimpse of her smile. 

There was an unspoken trust in that smile, a deep trust in him. Because she knew that whenever she fell, he'd always be there to catch her.

Just like now. 

As Hinata began her descent, Naruto was ready. He lifted his arms high and, with practiced precision, caught her around the waist.

He felt that familiar rush of relief and joy, knowing Hinata was secure in his hands after her aerial stunt. Safe and sound. 

Naruto held her close for a moment, savoring the warmth of her body against his, before gently lowering her back to the ice.

As they continued skating together, the audience seemed to blur further and further away until it was only the two of them, as if no one else existed. 

They looked into each other's eyes and suddenly...

Time didn't matter.

The competition didn't matter.

The judges or their scores didn't matter.

It was just them.

Just like in all their performances, Naruto and Hinata stunned the crowd with their chemistry. They moved together on the ice with such closeness, showing raw emotion through their every move and expression that the audience could actually feel. 

It left everyone breathless. 

The music was captivating from start to finish, flowing through every part of their routine. Every spin, every lift, and every glide of their skates across the ice, the music was there, as if guiding them. 

Hinata's grace paired perfectly with Naruto's strength, like yin and yang. Their choreography, whether synchronized or solo, blended together on the ice, revealing not just their countless hours of practice but also the deep understanding they shared. 

Their love. 

It was evident, no matter how hard they tried to hide it.

Their synchronicity was almost magical, like they were of one mind, one body, one soul. 

When Hinata jumped, Naruto was right there to catch her. 

When she spun, he spun, matching her moves perfectly. 

Whenever she reached for him, he was always ready to clasp her hand and guide her.

There was no escaping what they felt. 

The longer their performance went on, that feeling between them seemed to intensify.

It was new and exhilarating, different from anything they had felt before in previous performances or practices, as if it began anew the moment they first touched tonight.

Every time their hands touched or their eyes locked, that feeling inside them just kept growing stronger.

But reality would ruin it for them each time, reminding them that no matter how strong their feelings were, they couldn't act on them.

They couldn't.

They shouldn't.

They…

Hinata couldn't take it anymore. 

As their routine continued, she began to feel the full weight of everything. 

The unspoken feelings she'd been holding in, the constant longing to be close to Naruto, and the pressure to maintain their perfect image—it was all starting to overwhelm her.

She'd managed to keep it together for so long, but even she had her limits.

Tonight, she reached her breaking point.

As they approached the end of their performance, instead of the usual thrill that would sweep over her, she was overwhelmed by a deep, profound sadness.

Naruto sensed it immediately. 

He knew her too well not to notice. 

As the music began to wind down and the final chords echoed through the arena, he drew her into a tight embrace at the center of the rink. Their bodies were pressed close, the warmth of their breath mingling with the chilly air. Their faces were so close he could feel her every breath on his skin, and their eyes met, saying everything words couldn't express.

They held their position, panting and sweating, mostly satisfied, until the last notes of the music faded into silence.

But as soon as the music ended, the applause from the crowd surged through the stadium, a thunderous wave of sound that echoed endlessly in their ears.

With that, Naruto and Hinata reluctantly pulled away, masking their true feelings behind the broad smiles they had perfected and displayed time and time again.

They waved to the audience and the flashing cameras, even taking a hand-in-hand bow to mark the end of their performance.

The announcers' voices boomed through the speaker in no time, hyping up their performance with excitement.

"Ladies and gentlemen, what a show! Let's hear it for Japan's premier ice skating duo, Naruto Uzumaki and Hinata Hyūga! 

"Give these two a big round of applause for another unforgettable performance!"

The announcers gave them one last shout-out, showering them with praise and cheers that would've made Hinata feel overjoyed on another day—grateful, accomplished even. 

But not now.

She didn't know what had came over her.

She didn't know why she had done it. 

Yet, she turned to Naruto, her face showing a sadness she couldn't keep hidden anymore. Her eyes, usually so bright and joyful, were now clouded with a deep sorrow that instantly wiped the smile from Naruto's face. 

And before he could even speak, to react even, she spoke to him, whispered to him. 

She whispered one word, and he heard it clearly. 

"Gomennasai."

Hinata let go of his hand and sped off across the ice, leaving him behind before he could say a single word. 

He gasped and reached out toward her retreating figure.

"H-Hinata-chan!" Naruto called out, but she didn't respond. She didn't turn back or slow down; she just kept skating, moving further and further away from him until she vanished through the designated gate leading backstage.

The blonde stood there, frozen, as the cheers of the crowd faded into the background. Yet, even now, he could still feel the warmth of Hinata's touch lingering in his outstretched palm.

Naruto frowned.

'Pretending is difficult for you too, isn't it, Hinata-chan?'

Continue Reading On Wattpad Or AO3.

— (⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊☾ 𝐍𝐚𝐫𝐮𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐚 𝐌𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐡 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑 ☽₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆)

[hatsi-write-and-write]

What do you MEAN I have to go to work instead of write sanegiyuu??????

[d1gitvlpupz]

skate into my heart

“babes, you gotta let go-“

“to hell with that!” fell retorted as he kept a death grip on fresh’s sleeves, his body shaking as he stood awkwardly on the skateboard that decorated in various stickers and covered in colourful graffiti. to be honest, he doesn’t even know how fresh managed to get him to do this. “keep tensin’ like dat n’ yer gonna get a charlie horse, ya dig?” “i’m bout to give ya a charlie horse if you keep playin’ with me.” fell threatened that made fresh laugh.

keeping his free hand on the latter’s back to support him, he gently guided him through the process of riding a skateboard. and while he was trying to be as supportive as he can, fresh couldn’t help but giggle a little when he would teasingly let go of fell. “fell, babygirl, it ain’t even dat hard. ya just gotta loosen up, ya get what i mean?” fresh instructed while walking with fell, who was as stiff as a statue on the board. “fu- funk no.” fell replied.

fresh snickered when he censored fell’s foul mouth, “ya know i gotcha, dollface. look, see? ya got it.” fresh praised as he subtly loosened his grip on fell to try and build up his confidence. fell kept his eyelights glued to his shoes as he wobbled a little bit. “this lame as fu- funk.” “brah, no it’s not. its very bodacious.” fresh defended with the writing on his glasses changing to the word ‘radical’, soon his hand that was on fell’s back moved away, however fell was still clinging onto his sleeves for dear life. “ya gon make us fall, babes.” “if im goin’ down, ya comin’ with me.” fresh snickered as he continued walking a bit with fell before he gave him a little push.

“ya doin’ great!” fresh called out after fell as he watched him skate down the street, pulling out his phone and snapping a quick photo of him, giggling to himself. meanwhile, fell was slowly gaining confidence in riding as he straightened up his back as let his body do what felt natural, still stiff as hell as the speed of the board picked up. “fresh? fresh!” fell called out that made the latter look up from his phone, causing fresh to immediately run after his boyfriend who was going fast as hell down the street. “baby, break!” “how!?”

fresh panted, using his magic to teleport closer towards fell, unable to get exactly where he was because his focus was torn between two things; the coordinates of where he needs to go and trying to get fell to break before he hurt himself. “your foot! no-! your other foot!” fresh yelled out, chasing after the other. he knew he should’ve worn his heelies.

successfully, fresh managed to gain enough focus to teleport in front of fell. however, his calculations were a little off because as soon as he landed, fell had crashed into him. the impact knocked the damn wind out of him as he made contact with the gravel of the street, the graffiti covered skateboard hitting him in the shin as his arms instinctively wrapped around fell’s body to try and break his fall.

“diggity dang, dude.. you good..?” fresh asked, his voice strained as he lifted his head up to see fell holding onto him for dear life with his skull buried in his jacket. “never again.” “agreed.” fresh let out a huff, giving fell one last squeeze. “i shoulda recorded dat- ow!” fresh yelped when he felt a punch to his ribs.

[galaxianpatrol]

[leajdh]

Gold rush

Chapter Five: You who shimmy shook my bone, leaving me stranded all in love on my own.

He was just a few more steps away from becoming a living legend. Already praised by the media as the honored one, he made a grave mistake which not only put his Ice Hockey career on hold, it disappointed even his most loyal fans so much so that his reputation sank to an all-time low.

Then he meets you; a retired figure skating champion who is now trying to find her purpose in life after her triumphs, all while still being loved and cherished by the media and public likewise.

Satoru Gojo sees his chance to not only get back unto the rink, but also to regain his former popularity.

But he soon realizes it will be a lot harder to get on your good side, because he's everything you despise combined into one person.

Will you give him a second chance and allow him to redeem himself, or is this going to be the match for your life time?

Gojo Satoru x reader (first person narrator)

Ice Hockey AU

FAKE DATING TROPE

Enemies to lovers

English isn't my first language, so expect some grammar errors

18+!!

ALL CHAPTERS: https://www.tumblr.com/leajdh/722300699873083392/all-chapter-of-my-satoru-gojo-x-reader-fanfiction?source=share

Suguru was right. 

The people love us. The picture he took yesterday of Satoru and me went viral. Not even ten minutes after it was posted on Satorus instagram page, it had over 20k likes and over a thousand comments. Surely some comments were negative but that was predictable and mostly they were genuinely nice. We got a whole lot of comments telling us that we are perfect for each other, which is such an internet thing to say, because they don’t know anything about us other than we are both skating on ice. Well, certainly this is enough for the public to think we are compatible. 

We had a good run since the picture was taken. I don’t feel awkward or nervous around Satoru anymore. Against my better judgment sleeping with him really helped. I can look at him without having the sudden urge to run away and hide. 

And I like to look at him, especially when he is training with his focused face, listening to everything Mei Mei screams at him, but still completely absorbed in his flow. I have only watched him train for about thirty minutes, however I was hooked by his movements. The itch to watch him far longer was there, but I didn’t want to come across as if I have any kind of interest in him outside of our contract. 

The way I smiled at him in this goddamn picture was enough to set me off. 

I slept with him, I smiled like a simpleton at him and now I even enjoyed him playing Ice Hockey, the sport I hate more than anything. 

I had to press on my mental brake. Falling for him isn’t an option. After all, I still have my doubts about him. I can’t throw them all over board because we had sex. He is ever so unpredictable and arrogant and just not the one for me. 

At least social media proved itself useful in my dilemma. A user posted an edit of the way I glance before I step on the ice followed by a clip of Satoru doing the same. Once we are on the ice, knowing something is there to win, we both look and act the same. 

Maybe that’s what fascinates me when I watch him train. It is like looking in a macabre mirror, seeing another person as infatuated as myself with being the best. We have the same fixed stare, head slightly tilted downwards, looking up between our lashes and noticing everything around us without losing our center. Shoulders and back straight and neck long. The perfect posture, even while stepping and sliding on the ice.

I wish to know if his heart has the same beat as mine in these kinds of moments. Strong enough to feel it pulsate in my ears, feeling the blood flow hot up and down my carotid artery, vision focused but also blurry from the frenzy. 

The emergence of goosebumps all over the skin, not enough for others to notice, but just enough to feel it happening out of fever and being filled up with enough adrenaline to knock out a thousand men, but just enough of it to calm one maniac. 

I realized from the moment he blackmailed me with this video of us, we are cut from the same cloth. 

Since then I was on the lookout, my guard up to the moon but he still managed to slip right through and got the upper hand over me by noticing one of my weaknesses. 

How I am actually really insecure whenever I am not on the ice. 

How fragile my self-perception is. 

How important the voices of others are. 

How my life is one big ongoing performance. 

I let him see a glimpse of the real me and in return I got nothing. All I know about him, I can read online. Just some standard information. Granted our contract was formed because he wants his popularity back. Something that seems important to him. Nevertheless Suguru was the one who told me the resentment of his fans affected Satoru. It wasn’t Satoru who openly claimed and explained it. 

He doesn’t let me in and it pisses me off. 

I don’t want him to win. When we will walk out of the contract, I want to have the upper hand.  

Should we be a team? Absolutely. 

Are we both team players? Absolutely not.

Well, I know I am not a team player. He should be one as the captain of an Ice Hockey team, but I have the eerie feeling just for our state of affairs, he won’t be one. 

I need to get the control back or at least a draw. 

But how?

Think, think, think.

Totally lost in my thoughts upon creating a counter strike, I notice the big, gloomy figure behind me first when an arm like a tree trunk hovers over my head to grab something from the supermarket shelf I stand in front of. Irritated by the close proximity of this random person showing up right behind me, I quickly turn around and stare up at a man, who grins like the devil himself. He isn’t looking at me, staring at the grocery he wants from the shelf but that grin. 

I know it is for me and strangely I have the feeling we met before. 

“Well, excuse me”, I mutter, finding it troublesome to have someone in my personal space. 

“You’re excused”, he answers, still not looking at me while examining the ingredients of the product he just grabbed. I feel a shiver down my spine from how low and thorny his voice is, but I try to not get too alarmed as I roll my eyes at his answer. With an offended side stare, I take a step to the side. 

He is tall, not as tall as Satoru but broader, taking up more space in an uncomfortable manner. His arms and even his face are crested in thick, black tattoos. Maybe he has some more all over his body but I won’t ever be able to tell. Sharp facial features with a strong jaw and menacing warm eyes with a reddish hue to them. With his wide smirk still plastered on his face, I shortly doubt myself that the man next to me is human. The teeth are barbed and massive like ones feline predators have. 

“Loser.”

As soon as he adds this word, my head snaps back up. 

Oh my fucking god. He is real.

The memories of him hit me like a ton of bricks.

Tokyo, Japan, my first world championship.

The year before I won second place at the junior world championship, ending my streak of first places. 

It was devastating. 

Surely once being second place isn’t the end of the world, but the media at that time was harsh and brutal on me, maybe because I never lost and they finally saw a crack in my perfect facade.

I was 16 and read articles saying from now on I will only get worse. 

And I wasn’t even at the Olympics. 

It felt like my entire career had no meaning and I should just quit altogether. The questions I got asked ripped me mentally into pieces as I answered them with a fake smile, ready to cry once the cameras were away. Mei Mei and my mother tried to cheer me up, telling me not to listen to such bullshit. 

Figure skating is one of the most competitive sports. Each year the athletes are getting younger and breaking more limits and record after record.

Time doesn’t stop for anyone and it certainly doesn’t for athletes. I was crying for 2 days in my room calling myself old and worn-out.

Truly the joys of being an athlete. 

I refused to step on the ice for over a month until my mother had enough and took my phone and computer away, forcing me back on the rink. 

For her there wasn’t any other outcome. One day I would win gold in the Olympics. 

Her dream for me.

But for that dream to come true, I must skate again.

And I did, reluctantly. 

As if I ever had a choice in this matter. With an overly ambitious mother and my competitive mindset which was thrilled into my head as soon as I took my first step on the ice.

However, let's go back to the World Championship. 

All eyes were on me and I felt it in my strangled veins. I was never so nervous and insecure on ice before. 

I’m never insecure on ice. Skating is like breathing for me. 

And who would ever be insecure about breathing?

You get time slots when you can enter the rink for training before the competition. I waited for my turn at the lobby, getting myself warmed up. Championships lure all kinds of people into one place and mostly other athletes. It is good press to be interested in other sports and showing support, but most athletes do it for a bit of media coverage in between their seasons. 

I used to love watching swimming competitions, always finding it nice to see the contrast from ice skating. 

Hard ice against soft water. Coldness against warmth. 

So it wasn’t a surprise to see other athletes or just random celebrities in the hall. 

I remember him. As tall as in the present but not as broad. Younger but still sharp features and already tattoos on his arms. Overall an extremely good-looking man. 

He talked with reporters, grinning mischievous. 

I was amazed like most of the other girls. 

To be honest, to amaze me at that time, you just had to look at me at least once and open a door for me. Both things he did.

My seventeen years old brain was going haywire and you can definitely blame my mother for it. I barely had any time for friends, so meeting boys wasn’t even a theme to begin with. The only talk I really had with her was when I got my period and she instantly made an appointment to get me an IUD.

Her dream ended with her pregnancy. She wouldn’t allow the same thing to happen to me.

Granted, I never questioned her. For me it was normal to concentrate all my energy on skating. 

Mei Mei always told me ‘now you are a figure skater and when you retire you will be a human again’.

Insane, right?

But I lived by that statement, focusing on skating entirely.

Just not on that day. I watched him like a hawk, walking around with a dozen people around him and taking picture after picture. 

Just who was he?

I couldn’t google it because my mother still had my phone and asking wasn’t in my repertoire. 

He noticed my glances. It wasn’t like I was subtle with it. I did everything to occupy my mind with something other than skating and losing again. 

On the outside I seemed cool and collective, Mei Mei and my mother truly thought I was over the Junior Championship, but mentally I was a sinking ship, just one more crash against an iceberg away from becoming a wreck. 

And just a few hours later I became one. 

On that day less than 24 hours before the competition. I was on the ice, going over my routine.  

I fell, not once, not twice, I fell so often I stopped counting. Mei Mei screamed at me, my mother completely shocked on why I performed this way. 

Reporters aren’t allowed on the tribune while athletes are training in their time slots but people with VIP-passes can enter and he seemed to have one. He watched me fall and fall again with that creepy smile on his face. I tried to blend him out and it worked. 

Like I said before, glances don’t bother me. I am used to being watched. Only Satoru managed to make me giddy.

Not even twenty minutes into my training I fucked up my signature triple axel, bending my ankle so hard I could hear my ligaments snatch, overstretching to the maximum. I was lucky they didn’t rip. 

I bit my teeth hard together and managed to leave the rink, stomping past Mei Mei and my mother, who wanted me back on ice. They didn’t know about my ligaments, just thinking I landed poorly but if I could still skate, it wasn’t so bad, right?

Right.

Telling them with gritted teeth that I need some time for myself I went into my locker room, where I just sat down and stared at the wall for minutes, emotionless. 

The blood pulsating in my feet, I knew once I put the skates off it would be bad. With shaky hands I opened them and stared at my ankle. Swollen already and I knew it would bruise. 

My mother would not allow me to skate like this. She is strict but not a lunatic. If I land one more time incorrectly without the ligaments fully healed, they will snap completely and my career is over. 

But I needed, no, I wanted the World Champion title.

Now or never. I didn’t want to wait another year.  

Another year would mean one year older, one year nearer my retirement. 

I wanted to cry but nothing came out. 

Eventually with an injury like this, I must have accepted that my career was ending. 

I just wasn’t good enough for the Olympics.

There is no shame to it. A lot of athletes never make it.

I instantly kick these thoughts in the butt. No, it isn’t over. I can do this. I will not fall tomorrow at the competition. I will win. I can take care of my ankle after the competition. It will fully heal. 

I knew it. 

It was nearly 10 years ago, so I don’t quite remember how long I was alone with my thoughts as the door opened and someone stepped in. I remember I sighed, madly trying to hide the swelling with a towel thrown over it. I expected my mother or Mei Mei to be the ones bothering me, but it was him with a big fat grin sitting on his face.

Throughout the conversation we were going to have his grin stayed on, sometimes fading or growing. But one thing is engraved in my brain like an antibiotic resistant parasite. His first words to me. Simple, but so world shattering to me. 

“Hey, Loser.”

He called me what I was truly thinking of myself at that moment, but never dared to acknowledge. 

Nevertheless I couldn’t believe someone would call me that. Before I even had the chance to tell him to fuck himself and get lost, he kept on talking. Along the lines of he knows torn ligaments when he sees them happening.

Staring him down I should have told him to leave my cabin, instead I said: “They aren’t torn, just on the edge of it.” 

I removed the towel and leaned over to my bag, taking out sport tapes. With a smile I babbled more to myself: “I had worse.”

Confidence is the key but my act didn’t work on him. He just leaned against the wall in front of me, not believing a single word by the way he looked at me. 

As I started to pull my legging up and begin sticking the tapes down, he clicked his tongue in disbelief. 

“By the way this is a private cabin.”, he ignored my words and with two big steps, he was right in front of me, taking the tapes out of my hand and muttering curses to himself. 

Mercilessly he grabbed my lower leg and stretched it out, my feet staying on his hard chest. It hurt like hell and I yelped, which gained me a side eye and something along the lines of ‘stop being a fucking pussy’. 

Usually I would say something snarky back, but I didn’t dare with him. Instead I just murmured: “I know how to tape myself.”

He only snorted mockingly at that and started to tape my ankle. If this guy is one thing, it definitely isn’t gentle. He applied the tape with such force, it felt like he wanted me to bruise even more. Still, I bit my teeth and let him do it. In between taping he started to talk to me: “I had the same thing once, so I know what to do.” 

My ankle was covered in tape in the pattern of a spiderweb. He talked to me like a ruthless trainer, who ignores the health of his athlete. 

“Keep the ankle cold under any circumstance, even if it feels like dying or you don’t feel anything at all.” 

Then he took a normal bandage and wrapped it around, tightly, telling me not to open it until after the competition. It will swell even worse and probably needs more time to heal, but at least I could be on the ice. 

Then he told me the same truth I already knew. 

“If you fall, it is over”, he snickered: “maybe it would be better anyway. To just end your foolish career.”

I knew, if I fall with this injury, it is truly over. Knowing it is one thing, but hearing someone else say it out loud shook my back into reality. 

“I won’t fall”, I told him without a doubt in my voice, ignoring his mean remarks. Bare teeth blinded my eyes as he laughed. 

“Just making sure you know your fate.”

Asshole.

“Why even help me if I will fail?”, I bit back. He shrugged his shoulders.

“I like being surprised.”

What a fucking weirdo.  

He pulled out his wallet and showed me a pill, asking if I already had my urine test. I nodded and looked skeptical at the pill. I do a lot of things to win, but I don’t take drugs. Seeing my suspicious scowl he told me: “It’s just a heavy painkiller.”

My scowl deepens. Painkillers are allowed, so why would he ask about my urine test?

He could read my mind like an open book.

"Prescribed.”

If they find a substance from a prescribed pill in my urine, I would need a doctor's note, so his question made sense. 

Well, that certainly didn’t sound better, and fine, I trusted him with my ankle but I wouldn’t take a pill from him. For all I knew he could be lying and giving me drugs. He rolled his eyes as I didn’t take it like I am stupid or something for not trusting him. Quite the contrary, I thought I was pretty smart for it. 

So I asked him: “Who are you even?”

All I got was a doubting laugh with furrowed brows like I am a fool for not knowing him. Based on my confused face he understood quickly I really had no clue and a devious smile grew back on his face. 

“I am.. Yuji.”, he states with a pause in between like he forgot what his own name is: “I play for the Japanese national basketball team.”

Nevertheless I was hesitant. Surely he was tall enough to be a basketball player but why was he here? 

Duh, why did I go to the swimming World cups? To be seen. 

Still I wouldn’t take a pill from him. 

I crossed my arms like a sulking child and shook my head. 

The air around him switched. To be honest he wasn’t in a friendly mood to begin with but now it changed drastically. 

He explained why he was even here to begin with. How he extra came for me to the Championship and how it was such a pain for his team to get him a VIP-pass.

All that for me to be a pathetic loser, who falls. He criticized my speed, my jumps and my overall form. It was like talking to all my worst critics combined. He didn’t sugarcoat one bit. His words were brutal and unforgiving. 

How he gave me a chance to get my title back and get Gold again, just for me to not accept it. How much he hates wasted potential and I am the embodiment of it. A silly little pathetic loser, blessed with genetic talent but no drive. 

I pushed myself up, feeling a slight sting in my leg, but didn’t mind. 

How dare he? He doesn’t know shit about me. As if his fucking pill would be my path to Gold. No, I didn’t care about the pain, I could ignore it. 

But I couldn’t ignore his attitude anymore. What did he even want from me? He didn’t know anything about me. We never talked before, nothing. I was angry. Angry at him and angry at me for allowing him from the beginning to talk down to me.

“Get the fuck out of my cabin!”, I hollered, but he didn’t move, smiling like my anger meant nothing to him and rather amused him, if not turning him on. 

“Or what?”

Yeah, fuck that or what? Honestly there was nothing I could do against a guy like this. I bet even if I hit him, it wouldn’t affect him, probably again just turning him on. 

“I will make sure they take your VIP-pass away”, oh my god, that was pathetic. Looking back I cringe at myself, but that’s all I could do. 

Another deep laugh.

“Do it, this whole thing is a waste of my time anyway. I thought I would see some great talents, but all I see is a whiny slut.”

I should be afraid but I wasn’t. I was just angry.

“I am a lot but not whiny.”

“No denying on the slut part, I see.”

I roll my eyes. I didn’t even have my first kiss at that time, but he didn’t have to know. 

“It’s not worth commenting”, I fired back. 

Suddenly everything happened so quickly, I barely had time to register anything as he grabbed my jaw with his large hand and squeezed my cheeks together. 

“I bet it turns you on being called all these degrading words”, he lowers his face to mine, nose on nose with a demonic grin plastered on his face. 

I’m a winner. Degradation doesn’t turn me on. It makes my blood boil. Sadly wrath and lust often go hand in hand, but I would never let him know. 

“I beg to differ”, I tear my face out of his grip. 

“Then prove me wrong, loser.”, his grip traveled to my throat, holding me in place, not wanting me to look away from his challenge. I didn’t waver my glance from his dark eyes. 

He leant in closer to my face, waiting for me to break away first but I kept my eyes on him, even as his lips nearly brushed mine. 

Never in my life was I more happy to be interrupted by my mother as we heard a knock on the door. Slowly, still with a wide smile on his face, he let go of me like nothing happened and put the pill in my hand. In a swift motion he walked to another exit like he had no care in the world while I was frozen into place. 

My mother came into the cabin and talked to me, but I didn’t listen. All I had in my mind was him and how to prove him fucking wrong. 

And I did, I won Gold the next day.

With the worst pain ever in my leg I stood on the pedestal, waving with a bitter smile into the camera. 

I saw him during my performance but not at the award ceremony. 

Who is the loser now?

I bet he thought I couldn’t bring it. Wanted me to fall and fail, crying on national TV over my career ending. 

Wrong slut, motherfucker. 

However as soon as I was backstage, my leg gave in. My mother caught me and Masamichi carried me to a private cabin. 

I didn’t take his pill. I didn’t need his help. 

I won on my own. 

When my mother took my skate off my foot I screamed, nearly blacking out. Mei Mei looked at the bandages around my ankle.

“Who did this?”, she asked furious, now understanding why I didn’t let them near my skates to fix them before my performance.

“I did it.”

“Don’t lie to me, you idiot!”

My mother proceeded to unwrap my ankle, feeling like she skinned my foot alive. 

“This is a military binding technique! It is made to stabilize a dying foot so the soldier can move forward.”

“It did the job”, I muttered back in a delirious state of pain.

“You are so stupid! It is for a dying foot! With this technique they don’t want to save the foot, they just want stabilization for a moment before it will be amputated!”

I didn’t really register her words, all I had in my mind was the Gold medal around my neck and the cold metal against my chest as I fainted.

I woke up in the hospital, my foot held up by some strings and tubes pumping a liquid into it. 

The pain was bearable, but my foot felt heavy and numb. 

I looked over and saw my mother sitting in a chair. She didn’t look happy like most mothers would be once their child woke up after fainting. 

“What the hell did you think?”

I thought nothing to be frank. I did as he told me and it worked. It worked perfectly. I won Gold. My lucky streak would be back. 

“I did what I had to do to win”, I replied.

“You could have not only lost your career as a figure skater, you could have lost your foot!”

“But I didn’t.”

“Don’t act smart with me now!”

“I am the world champion, mom.”

“I don’t care.”

“You do, you only ever cared about that.”

“That is not true.”

I stared at her with a tired but fierce expression. If she wanted to tell herself that, she could do it. I wouldn’t stop her. Making herself feel like she was the mother of the century. 

If I had shown her my foot, yeah, she would have said no to the competition but I would have gotten the silent treatment for weeks. 

Like getting an injury is my fault. For her it would be. 

Because how dare me to fail her dream. 

She put so much energy into me. Imagine it all failing.

What a waste of time. All for a loser like me.

Certainly I have shown in this performance I am not a loser. My performance was worthy of the Olympics and I would go to them the coming year and win Gold too. 

I am a fucking winner. The whole world is going to know my name.

Everything felt unreal. My career wasn’t over. If my foot wasn’t going to fully recover my mother would have told me instantly instead of trying to lecture me. 

I softly chuckled to myself, thinking about him. At this moment of delusion I truly thought I owe this motherfucker my career.

“Right now you look just like your father”, she said quietly: “I don’t recognize you.”

Still in my trance I tilted my head to my mother and just sputtered: “At least I am not a loser like you.”

The moment I said it was the moment I regretted it. Before I had the chance to apologize, she was out of the room, leaving me alone. 

No, I was wrong. I didn’t owe him my career, he only took part in creating a new part of my personality. An irrational and cruel one. 

He made me the cunt I am. 

For years I thought he was a ghost I created myself. Like part of my hidden personality came out the moment I nearly gave up and brutally dragged me back on the ice. 

To kick me even harder at my lowest point and either leave me there or make me get back up. 

I never apologized to my mother, but I got my phone and computer back and she acted like nothing happened, training me for the Olympics once my foot was back to normal. I lost two months of training because of my injury and the binding technique, but it didn’t matter. I knew whatever would come in between the Olympics and me would be demolished. I was never going to give up. 

He was a mystery I didn’t want to solve. I could have googled him, but I didn’t. I liked the idea of him just being a weird imagination of mine to get back on track. 

But now he is standing next to me in the cereal aisle of a small town supermarket and I am sure he is not a projection of my mind. He is real. 

“I know you are but what am I?”, I croak back, my voice lost in my throat. 

“You are witty, I will give you that.”, he chortles, cracking a smile: “But I take it back, you certainly aren’t a loser.”

“So don’t call me that.”

“Pet names take time to form, I wasn’t expecting to meet you here in the middle of nowhere. So I don’t have one up my sleeve.”

Me neither to the meeting part, but why does it feel like he is lying. Like he knew I would be here. 

“How about my real name?”

“Nah, way too impersonal.”, god, the way he is so presumptuous is kind of alluring in the best way possible. Must be me, I seem to have a soft spot for cocky bastards. 

“Well, we aren’t exactly friends.”

He turns with a full on grin to me, the one I dreamed about for months. The one I see in my mind before entering a competition.

“You are right.”, he added my name: “But I will still think of something new, something fitting.”

I can’t fucking wait for it.

“What would you say is the perfect gift for an old friend you haven’t seen in a while?”, he drags me out of my empty thoughts: “Not for you. You stated we aren’t friends, right?”

“Right”, I stutter back: “I guess it depends on the friend.” 

I try to act nonchalantly, but I feel like failing.  

That answer earned me a slight chuckle from him. I decide it would be best to ignore him and just continue my purchase, walking down the aisle, but the looming shadow doesn’t leave me. 

“A friend who isn’t a friend at all.”

This sentence piqued my interest. 

“Still not for you”, he adds, but I wasn’t even thinking that. 

“Then why buy a gift?”, I ask, allowing him to keep the conversation going as he walks through the fruit section with me. I am glad we are in a public space filled with people. Alone with him again, I would not survive. 

“Just for courtesy. He had a rough time”, subtle information but nothing sturdy to grab onto.

His grin is going to kill me. I feel like a flight animal in the headlights of a predator. 

“Wine always works”, I answer politely and curse myself still giving him partially my attention. 

The curse of being a woman, always civil to uncivil men. 

A loud laugh echoes through the aisle before it abruptly ends, his sharp teeth still showing. 

“Not a bad idea, but alcohol isn’t his thing”, he states: “anymore.”

I frown but end up not thinking further about his oddity as I see a box of chocolates and instantly think of Satoru. How he asked me for a ‘thank you’ card and a box of chocolates for his ‘help’. A dumb tease from his side but in my head the cogs start to turn. 

Round and round for a counter strike. I place the box in my shopper with a grin similar to the one from him. 

Fuck, he really created a part of me. 

“Chocolates always work as well”, I babble back, before turning serious. “What brought you to this city?”

“Oh, just a quick stop before visiting my friend, who isn’t really my friend.”

For whatever reason the way he talks and acts is enthralling. I know he isn’t a good person but he has a certain aura that not a lot of people have. A confident one, but ready to be able to back it up. I should have googled him. I should have to see if he has some achievements to back up his brash attitude towards me all those years ago. 

I can’t shake off the feeling that something isn’t quite right. 

“Seems like fate that we meet again”, if it is even possible his grin got bigger. 

“You also thought it would be my fate to fall and call quits, but here we are. Coincidences happen.”

Yes, our meeting years ago and now, they are just coincidences. Nothing more and nothing less.

“Oh, little devil I don’t believe in just coincidences.”

“Don’t call me that!”, I turned sharply around to him. He holds up his hands in a mocking way.

“Calm your tits.”

“Why did you call me that?”

“Because you are a bratty, little devil”, I ignore the sexual undertone in his words. It clicked instantly like finding the right puzzle piece. 

“Are you a Devils fan?”, I ask, taking another step back. He steps forward, looking down on me.

“Nah”, he chuckles roughly: “I am not into Ice Hockey.”

Fuck, I can’t tell if he is lying or not. He is as unreadable as Satoru. He is so indifferent, so detached, it is hard to see what his intentions are. For a second I just want to yell at him: ‘What do you want from me!?’ but I calm down and just continue my purchase, feeling his presence still in my neck.

“Mind if we take a picture together?”

I turn towards him, looking him up and down with my eyebrows pulled together. He laughs lightly, sounding friendlier. 

“Against whatever skepticism is playing in your head, I was always a fan of you.”

“You had a great way to show your support”, I instantly built my guards up around him.

“I think so too”, he ignores my obvious sarcasm. 

That fucking evil grin again as he pulls out his phone and hands it to a lady next to us, asking her to take a picture. Before I even register it, he is next to me, slinging his massive arm around my shoulder and yanks me towards him. Looking up he has a big grin on his face while I probably look startled as hell. 

Everything just happens so fast again, like I am back in the cabin. I couldn’t even agree as he took the phone back from the lady.

“Thank y-”, he starts, but I butt in: “I didn’t ag-”

“You smell good, what’s your perfume?”, he interrupts me too. I’m too confused to finish my other sentences as I just ask: “Why?”

“That friend, who isn’t really my friend, has a new girlfriend. I want to give her something too.” 

I tell him the perfume I use and walk straight to the register, just wanting to get away. He should have fucking stayed a ghost. 

I don’t try to gnaw on it too much as I put my groceries down. Eyeing a ‘thank you’ card, I quickly put it next to my groceries.

“Got a boyfriend?”, he asks without giving me a second look as he puts his stuff on the conveyor belt too.

“I actually do”, I snarl back, not amused at all by his behavior. I should have never answered his questions in the first place, just acting like I have no idea who he is. On the other hand it is hard to overlook the person who played such a big role in my career. 

He could have been the ending but he was the crucial part to my new beginning. Because of him I had the chance to retire when I wanted to. Two Olympic Gold medals. I ended my career in the best moment, at its peak. 

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”, I state affirmatively. 

“Someone I would know?”

What kind of dumb question is that?

It seems more likely that he isn’t believing me and just wants to make sure I am not lying. 

I owe him a lot in a cruel way, but I would never fall so low to ever date him. Regardless, I have a contract with Satoru and I will not waver. 

For the time being Satoru is my priority. 

At least this question gives me a little relief. If he doesn’t know about Satoru and me, he really isn’t an Ice Hockey fan. Good, one less worry.

“Well, can’t tell if you know him but Satoru Gojo”, I mutter, hoping it will be enough to get him off my back and leave me alone. I give the cashier my card and pay for my stuff. 

“It doesn’t ring a bell”, he laughs, his eyes following my every move. 

“Then you must live behind the moon”, I retorted and grabbed my groceries.

“Maybe, or he isn’t just that important”, he says with a shrug: “anymore.”

I foolishly neglect his reply and just walk out of the store towards my car. All I want is to get away from this person. From my past. 

Once I sit in my car, everything comes crashing down on me. My hands shake and I feel panic rising inside of me. I shouldn’t drive in this emotional state, but I need to leave the parking lot. Away from him. Far away and praying that I will never see him again. 

My mothers words come back into my brain. I could have lost my foot. 

Because of him. 

He is dangerous. 

In the end I will never know if I had made history at the Olympics if I had told him to fuck off and leave me alone, not skating at the world championship. No one will know. By all means I could have recovered out of my insecurities alone and won a year later. Everything is possible.

But I did what I did and he did what he did. Risking your own career is one thing, but being a driving force in risking others, problematic. 

Additionally to his acting of ‘fixing’ my ankle, his words were a big part in my win too. His degradation towards me made me want to prove him wrong. As soon as I stepped on the ice I wanted him to look at me and see me win. 

Full circle back to my weaknesses. I care too much about what people think of me. It shouldn’t have mattered what an unknown man claims about me. 

Yet it did to me. 

Cut that crap! I will change. This is my second new beginning. 

With that I start my car and drive off, not looking back. 

I arrive at the rink hall, taking my groceries with me as I walk to the front door. Seeing Satoru waiting for me from afar makes my heart flutter. 

I am safe now from the ghost of my past. 

He grins widely, nothing evil behind it. Just Satoru. 

I step towards him, he takes my bags from me as I don’t stop getting nearer. Pressing my face in his chest, I sling my arms around him and just breathe in. He never saw me as a loser. He always treated me like an equal. 

“What’s wrong?”, he lightly chuckles and puts one of his large hands on my head, patting me like I have seen him pat my cat Todo. His chest quakes from his laughter and it feels good. It feels safe. Satoru knows me and at least some of my weaknesses and he is still here.

“I just saw a ghost”, I mumble, which earns me another quiver from him. 

“A ghost?”

“Yes, but he is gone now and will never come back.”

“Did you fall on your head or something?”

Slight concern is in his voice. I look up to him with a cheeky smile. 

“I got something for you”, taking a step back, I grab my bags from Satoru and rummage inside of one of them. It is too full, so I take a pack of baby carrots out and hand it to him to just hold while I keep on searching.

“Wow, I love baby carrots!”, he says with way too much enthusiasm. They aren’t his surprise, but I couldn’t resist my next tease: “Why, do they remind you of something?”

He laughs and we both grin at each other. 

“I don’t have a baby carrot and you know it”, he adds: “As I recall it, you were afra-”

“Yeah, yeah I know! Don’t remind me, idiot.”

Satoru would love nothing more to remind me again of our night together, but I 

keep him quiet by switching the baby carrots in his hand with a box of chocolates. 

“Sorry to disappoint, but the baby carrots are for the kids later.”

“Kids?”, he frowns and looks at the new item in his hand. His brain is rattering to figure out why I give him chocolates. 

“Yeah, the skating students you happily agreed on training for me. Did you forget?”

The frown on his face deepens and soon enough he groans. 

“Do I really have to do this?”

“You promised.”

“Lie, I never did.” “Well, you said to Suguru that you promised me, so it is kind of a promise.”

Another groan, which makes me feel flustered, growing a bit hot in certain areas.

“Suguru and I will be there too.”, a small smile forms on his lips. 

“Fine.”, he pouts and rolls his eyes, but I know he is just acting bothered: “But if you leave me alone for one second I will be mad.”

“I would never.”, I reply with a soft nod. 

I take the ‘thank you’ card out of my bag and his brain is catching up to the premise. His pout turns into a knowing smirk. 

“Do you have your wallet on you?”

He knows what I want. 

“Always”, he hands me a pen out of his pocket. I open the card and go behind Satoru, using his broad back as a table to write on. He is nice enough to lean slightly forward as I scribble something down. I put the card into the envelope and 

wet the glue strip with my spit to close it. Once I am finished I hand it back to him with a big smile.

“Thank you, partner”

He is all smiles and dimples as he takes the card from me.

“It was my pleasure”, he sticks the box of chocolates under his armpit and rips the envelope open to read my message. 

Dear Satoru,

thank you for fucking my insecurity away ❤️

Sincerely followed by my signature autograph.  

By the way he looks at me, I am one more step closer to finally get him to open up to me. A step closer to get our situation ruled out as a draw.

He puts the card back into the envelope and looks at me with tomato red cheeks. I gasp at this sight. 

I managed to make the Satoru Gojo speechless with his own shenanigans! The ‘thank you’ card and box of chocolates were his idea after all.

“I got you blushing!”, I can not not make him even more embarrassed. This is the chance of a lifetime. I will wallow in it like a piggy in fresh mud. 

“Shut up”, he turns his face away, but I take his beautiful face in between my hands to make him look at me. 

A mistake because from the way he looks at me, he got me blushing now. I feel like in this moment we are just one more heartbeat away from kissing each other but as if god sent an angel to save me from my disgrace, the front door swings open and Suguru emerges. I let go of Satoru and took a step back, looking at Suguru now.

“There you are”, he nods at Satoru, not noticing me at first. I have never seen such an expression on Sugurus face. A grimace, a pissed off grimace.

“We need to talk.”

The last twenty minutes I spent on the tribune, next to Shoko as we watched Satoru and Suguru hammer pucks into the goal. 

“Men”, Shoko sighs next to me: “Can’t handle their emotions so they have to act them out.”

I agree with her. 

The situation they found themself in isn’t ideal but I don’t get the fuss. Toji Fushiguro didn’t sign an extension contract for the Rangers. It was a surprise but they could have seen it coming. Greedy athletes always change their team, especially if money is on the line. And if I learned one thing about Toji during my research, he loves money.

Surely losing a player is always shitty, but I looked into the entire team. There are so many good other players. He won’t be missed. At least I thought so, but as I voiced it Suguru looked at me with an offended glare and said I have no idea about Ice Hockey, so I kept my mouth shut from that point and just let them work it out on their own. 

It was better anyway to stay out of this, because my father decided to make Toji an offer of a lifetime and he will be playing for the Devils from now on. Once Suguru mentioned this to Satoru, I got the death stare, like I have something to do with the shit my father does. 

So I banished myself on the bench next to Shoko, now watching two grown men trying to see who can destroy their ice hockey stick the fastest. 

“Want something from the vending machine?”, Shoko asks me.

“Nah, I’m good, but here”, I hand her my keys: “Just open it and take what you want.”

“You will never get those keys back.”, she declares and I one hundred percent believe her. “I will not forget about them.”, I respond with a light smile, but she just waves me off and walks away.

As I watch them play or whatever the hell they are doing, I regret not unfollowing Toji on Satorus account in first place. 

With a big stretch I get up and decide to finally intervene. They could do this for hours to no end, but in around two hours ten kids will be here for their skating course and I can’t have two sulking men train them. 

I step on the ice being totally ignored by the two of them. Granted, I am the enemy right now, well, I have half the DNA of their enemy. 

“Does it really matter that he left?”

Both of them tilt their heads to me with an annoyed expression. I hold my hands up in defense.

“Like, is he stronger than you?”, I ask Satoru.

“No.”, a prompt answer.

“So it doesn’t matter.”, I get eye rolls from them - synchronous. 

“Ice hockey is a team sport.”, Suguru tells me like I don’t know. 

“Okay, and? What about the others? Aren’t they good enough?”

“That’s not the-”, I don’t let Suguru finish.

“Hakari never missed the goal, Higuruma always has a solid strategy, Kusakabe has one of the greatest defenses, Ino is an allround talent, Choso never misses a pass”, I pause, but add: “And Nanami just won the award for best goalie.”

They are a lot more players, but I decided to just go with the main ones. Both Satoru and Suguru stare at me like I am a freak.

“You learned about the team?”, Satoru asks, astonished.

“Yeah, for you”, I answer and oh boy, I didn’t mean for it to sound so tender, even corny. 

“I mean, you know I should kind of know your team, right? Like it would be weird if a reporter asks me something and I have no clue, right?”, too many rights. I cross my arms and act nonchalant, looking everywhere but at Satorus plaguing and all-knowing grin. Suguru just peeks between Satoru and me before rolling his eyes but with a small smile. 

“Anyway”, I try to get back on track: “Both of you are so occupied at being mad at a person who left your team for money, that you are the ones acting like Ice Hockey isn’t a team sport.”

According to wikipedia Toji is one of the best Ice Hockey players alive right now, but I certainly don’t need to mention this right now. 

“You are right, we don’t need him to win the Stanley cup”, Satoru announces after a while of skeptical glimpses between Suguru and himself. 

“Still he knows all the weaknesses of our team members”, Suguru thinks out loud: “and he knows the relationship between you two is fake.”

Shit, I forgot about that part.

“But like every other teammate he had to sign a document, he isn’t allowed to disclose that.”

“Come on, Satoru, don’t be dumb. He will never publicly state it but he will tell his new team and they will do anything to use it against you.”

“Let them try”, I chirp in: “we are smarter than them.”

I will end up regretting these words.

Satoru seems confident as well, giving me a thumbs up with a big smile. Only Suguru isn’t convinced.

“If everything goes down”, I skate to him and take his stick: “I can always take Tojis spot on the team.”

I hit the puck and scored. 

“Natural talent”, Satoru grins.

“Yeah, sadly it is in my blood”, I shrug my shoulders, looking at his beaming smile. I am glad I got them to stop overthinking. At least for now. If they want they can have a sleepover and keep sulking the entire night. For now I want them to be ready for the skating course later. 

As I was thinking of a way to cheer up Suguru, Shoko shrieks from the tribune. We all looked at her like she got bitten by a spider. 

“You gotta be kidding me!”, see, I will regret my words.

“What’s up, Choco-Shoko”, Satoru skates towards the brim of the rink, followed by Suguru and me. Normally Shoko would glare daggers at Satoru for this name, but she is too occupied staring at her phone. 

She alters her stare and looks with an open mouth at me before stuttering: “I have a girl problem.”

“A what?”, Suguru asks confusedly, staring at Satoru, who seems as perplexed. 

“I need you, now, outside”, she points at me and I just comply, stepping out the rink and stomping behind her with my skates still on. As soon as we exit the rink hall and enter the corridor, she turns around and holds her phone too close to my face to see. 

“Can you explain this?”

“Shoko, I can’t see anything like this”, I push her hand down and focus on the screen. 

It is a picture. 

Not any picture. 

It is the picture from the supermarket.

The picture of Yuji and me. 

The ghost isn’t gone. 

But they don’t know anything about my past with him. For what it looks like he is just a fan taking a picture with me. 

“What’s the problem, Shoko? He just asked for a picture in the supermarket”, I tilt my head, acting confused and certainly I am a bit. 

“You know who this is, right?”, she proceeds to press the phone again in my face.

“Shoko, stop”, I take a step back: “again, he was just asking for a picture. I didn’t ask for his ID or anything.”

Why do I have the feeling I made a huge mistake. 

Why can’t this ghost stay in my past? 

Shoko looks at me like I am a pink elephant wearing a tutu. 

“You really have no idea?”

“No, I told you, he just asked for a picture.”

Who the hell is he?

Yuji, the pro basketball player. Did he have a scandal I don’t know about and taking a picture with him wasn’t a good move. 

Well, lack of knowledge doesn’t save you from backlash, but Shoko acts like someone posted a video of me skinning puppies alive. 

“Short and sweet, this is Satorus mortal enemy on and off the ice.”

Shoko explains dryly: “And you better run, because if Satoru sees this, he will use your bones to make a new Ice Hockey stick.”

Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait.

Mortal enemy?

On the ice?

That motherfucker is an Ice Hockey Player!

I grab her phone and click on his profile. 

Sukuna Ryomen. Not Yuji.

Ice Hockey. Not basketball.

Center player for the New Jersey Devils. No fucking way.

What kind of fuckery is this? 

I feel like the last few days I got way too many situations like this, where I just get thrown under the bus, but this, this is next level shit. 

He lied to me years ago and kept the lie running. 

Well, I decided to play in his cards by not googling him. 

Keeping him a mystery, a ghost. 

Great idea, now he is back and alive, ready to jump me like a lion a gazelle. He kind of did that already. 

I don’t care about Satorus hatred against him. For now.

All I think about is why he was at the stadium years ago!?

Was he sent by my father? According to his profile, he was already playing for the Devils at that time. 

What is doing on? 

The binding technique, the unknown pill. 

Sabotage.

He truly was there to sabotage me. To end my career. 

One hundred percent did my father send him. 

I was getting more and more media coverage at that time. After all, I was a candidate for the Olympics. My father got asked more and more questions about me. He surely knew how to ignore them, but they must have bothered him. So much so that he sent someone over to sabotage my career. To end it and then he would have never heard of me again. 

It all made sense. 

But his little trick didn’t work, it did the opposite. 

Oh, he must have been so pissed. So pissed seeing me win and a few weeks later announcing that I will be skating for the Olympics. 

Definitely a vein popped in his forehead. 

The door swings open loudly as it crashes against the wall.

“Here we go.”, Shoko takes her phone out of my hand and steps backwards, seemingly wanting to escape whatever is coming our way.

Satoru with his head tilted forwards, angry like a bull seeing red. 

Fitting, I have a red pilates set on.

Behind him Suguru tries to entangle Satoru in a conversation, but it doesn’t work. Satoru stops right in front of me and I would do everything for him to just scream at me and get it over with, instead he is so calm. 

Calm like the sea before a tsunami.

“What is this?”, he shows me the same picture I just saw a second ago on Shokos phone.

“Let me explain.”

“What is there to explain? You took a cute little picture with Sukuna. Anything else I need to know?”, he gestures with his hand fastly, something I have never seen him do before: “Like have you given him a quick update on how my recovery is going or I don’t know, fucked him.”

I was expecting a lot of accusations but fucking him. 

“Satoru”, Suguru chimes in, in a warning tone, but even he is looking at me like I did skin puppies alive.

Satoru ignores him completely, just staring at me. His height was always intimidating but now it is fucking terrifying.

But I am too stubborn and actually really hurt by his accusation, especially the last one. I will not allow someone to talk down on me again. I have changed.

“Yes Satoru, right between the bananas and the apples in the fruit aisle”, the moment I said it, the moment I regretted it. Satoru is so irrational right now, he would take everything seriously. He snorts with a menacing smile forming on his face. 

“I see, no denying.”

Different approach. 

“Listen, I just told Shoko I had no idea who he is. He just asked me for a picture.”

There is no reason for me to tell him about my past with Sukuna. It has nothing to do with Satoru and the situation I am in. I will keep it to myself. I see no sense in telling him about it and making him probably even angrier for being so foolish to not looking more into that guy who nearly ended my career. 

This is a conflict between my father, Sukuna and me. No need to drag Satoru into this. 

“How stupid do you think I am?”, Satoru replies, not even listening to me: “I fell for your little act of having no clue about Ice Hockey because it made sense, but now it is just getting ridiculous.”

That hurt like hell, worse than my foot inside the binding. 

Yeah, my life is a performance and I act like people want me to. 

But I never acted when it came to Satoru. I tried in the car on our first meeting, but he saw right through me and since I was always myself around him. 

“I was never acting around you and you know it”, tears start to sting in my eyes. 

This is all a big misunderstanding and it could be solved so easily if he just listens. 

“I just want you to tell me the truth and stop wasting my time.”

“Oh, you want the truth? I will give you the truth”, neither Satoru nor I should talk to each other right now. We are too emotional when it comes to the other person, but I am so hurt from his ignorance towards me. How can he not believe me? Whatever rivalry is between Sukuna and him, it goes deep. 

“Even if I was that evil mastermind who lured you into a trap.”, well, fuck I lured him into a trap once, but he did it too! He isn’t a saint either, but to accuse me of working together with a member of my fathers team is too much: “What could I have told Sukuna about you, huh? How all I know about you is readable on your fucking wikipedia page? Because you certainly didn’t tell me anything half the planet doesn’t know about you already!”

I keep holding eye contact with him, even when I feel the tears flowing now. “How I only saw you train for like thirty minutes and I have no idea about your progress? I never asked you or anyone else about your recovery or training plan or I don’t even know what. I have no idea who you truly are.”

He doesn’t answer me, just keeps meeting my eyes, like trying to find something in them so he can doubt me again. 

He doesn’t want to trust me. 

I thought about trust a lot. How I have trouble trusting Satoru, but I kind of disregarded that he might feel the same way about me. Not fully trusting me and with a situation like this. I would have probably reacted the same way. 

One thing is clear, he is hurt as well. 

“Okay, this is getting out of hand”, Suguru steps in between us, tearing our staring contest apart. 

“Both of you need to calm down! Whatever Sukunas intention was by posting this picture, he would probably have a big, fat grin on his face seeing you two go against each other!”, Suguru takes a deep breath. I look at Suguru but I still feel Satorus penetrating stare at me. 

“Toji surely told them about the contract between you two. Sukuna will do everything to throw you off course, Satoru”, he touches Satorus shoulder to get him to listen. 

I hear Shoko sucking in a breath and underlay Sugurus comments: “Suguru is right, it seems like he tries to get under your skin. Sukuna will do everything to keep you from performing your best. I mean he tried a similar play between Suguru and you years ago.”

I give Shoko a questioning glance but she just shrugs her shoulders. Whatever, I know nothing about Satoru anyway, why should it matter what happened years ago between the three of them. 

Yeah, whatever!

All this talk about being a team and partner, fuck it. I don’t care. I was never part of his team to begin with. 

I don’t care, I don’t care, I don’t care.

But I do care.

The contract means as much to me as I thought it meant to Satoru. It is my chance to come to terms with all that happened in my life. 

My absent father.

My overzealous mother. 

My madly ascent as a figure skater. 

Maybe I should just really call a therapist. 

I should turn around and leave, never looking back and forget the time we had. Just go into my room and lay in my bed, figuring my life out on my own. 

However in the end I am not a quitter. I signed this contract and I will do everything to keep it running. 

Everything is one big misunderstanding and I need to bash this in Satorus head. Of course my feelings are hurt because I feel like I have shown him parts of me no one knows and he didn’t give me anything back. 

But there was a reason why he wanted me as his fake girlfriend. Me and no one else, because we understand each other on a level most can’t relate to. I need to break his walls down, one by one. 

I like to think I had harder challenges. 

Satoru exhales, taking in what Suguru and Shoko said. He rubs his hands over his face, pressing his finger into his eye sockets. 

“I didn’t m- I need a minute”, with that he just leaves, walking to the locker rooms. 

Silence between the three of us. I know Suguru will be the first one to say something, probably telling me to give Satoru some time and everything will work out after a rational talk. 

Not this time, Suguru. This time I will do it my way. 

Without another word I follow Satoru, Suguru calling me from behind to let him be. I don’t listen as I keep walking, storming into the locker room.

“I said I need a minute”, Satoru groans loudly, probably thinking I am Suguru by the way his voice sounds. 

It is like a Deja Vu from another point of view. How he is the one sitting on a bench, mind going haywires and just done with the world as I storm into the room with one thing in mind. Getting him back on track. 

I’m Sukuna and Satoru is me from all those years ago. 

Well, it is debatable what Sukunas true intention was by getting my ass back on the ice, but I know what mine is.  

“Hey, Loser”, I chuckle as I lean against the wall in front of him, looking at him with a grin plastered on my face.

I will use the same tactic Sukuna used on me. I will use Sukunas own weapon to get his mortal enemy back on track, but I will make it better. 

The pure degradation from Sukuna made me go mad. I mean I nearly lost my career alongside my foot. What I would have needed, was a slap in the face to wake up and a gentle kiss after to make me realize I have worth. 

Degradation and praise. 

My weapons are better.

“What did you call me?”

“Want me to repeat it?”

“Yes, say it again”, his voice is so low, I start to get goosebumps and regret my plan. Maybe it doesn’t work on Satoru. Maybe we aren’t as similar, but I remember being mad at Sukuna too, I think I was only more bewildered because I didn’t know him. 

“I said you are a loser”, my confidence slips a bit and he can see it. 

I hate how easily he reads me. 

“Care to elaborate?”, he grins back and yeah, this isn’t going the way it did with Sukuna and me. This bastard is enjoying this.  

I seem to have forgotten that there is one big difference between Satoru and me and this is confidence. 

My confidence outside the rink is all fake, while his’ never leaves. He probably never thought of himself as a loser.

“It is just a bit pathetic, don’t you think?”

Laughter from him, but if you listen closely you can hear the difference between his real one and this one. 

I can pick up a bit of sourness. 

My words got to him. I mean it is probably the first time ever someone talked to him like this. Someone he cares about. 

Tell me what you want, but I know he cares at least a tiny bit about me. He has to for our contract to work. 

“I’m still waiting for the elaboration, princess.”

 I want to roll my eyes. Not even five minutes ago he accused me of being this evil mastermind and now he acts like nothing happened between us, like he can just call me princess and get away with it. 

Okay, I will let him get away with it, but just because I have a more important mission.

“You got all unreasonable and threw a fit because I took an innocent picture with a man I didn’t know was your self-appointed mortal enemy. Hard to believe this is how the legend Satoru Gojo behaves.”

His eyes darkened and I think I overstepped slightly. Well, there is no turning back now. 

What's said is said. 

“You complain about not knowing me, but once I show you a side of me, you complain even more.”

“That’s not what I was complaining about and you know it.”, I sigh and change the theme, because I don’t want to start a discussion about this. 

This conversation is about him, not about my hurt feelings. 

“Anyway, I don’t want to believe this is the real you”, I walk over to him and kneel down in front of him, looking up to meet his damning eyes.

“I don’t believe it. You are smart, smarter than most people I know. You think ahead for your five teammates and know your opponents by heart. You are the fastest, strongest and most versatile player in the NHL. And you are funny and kind in your own way, so don’t tell me the way you just acted out there is part of you. Whatever your issue with Sukuna is, he uses your hatred against him to bring out a part of you that isn’t you. An irrational and cruel loser.”

Sukuna did the same to me and I didn’t even know him prior to that. He made me irrational by playing with my insecurity of losing and made me cruel by the way I ended up talking with my mother. 

All these were my actions and I’m to blame for it, but everything would have turned out differently without him. 

He didn’t make me the person I am today. I will not give him that. The irrational and cruel side he handed me will be bashed once and for all.

I won’t give him credit anymore for giving me my titles. He isn’t the reason I made it to the Olympics. I could have done it on my own, because deep down I had all the strength in myself I needed. I am not a loser.

“Did you google my stats?”, is all he says to me after I told him a lot of nice things about himself. 

“Had to, it is not like you ever told me about yourself or your team”, my mouth turns into a thin line. 

“I’m sorry, I saw red and I overreacted. Suguru, Shoko and you are right. He wants to get inside my head to mess with me.”

“He is afraid you will come back stronger than ever and beat his ass”, now I smile at him and I get a harumph back but with a light smile playing on his lips. 

I would give everything to see him all smiles and dimples again, but it might take time. 

He takes my chin in his hand and looks at me with his intense eyes. 

“I’m really sorry, can you forgive this irrational and cruel loser?” 

“I only see a rational and kind winner in front of me, but sure.”

“You will be the death to me”, he laughs and I’m glad I got the smiles and dimples faster back than expected. 

“Come here”, he slaps on his leg and helps me get back up to sit down on his lap.

A small voice in my mind tells me to ask him if he was jealous of Sukuna in this picture. The fucking part in his accusations was rather random and I first thought it was to just randomly hurt me, but maybe there was a bit of jealousy. I should ask him, tease him about it, but it is going well now, I shouldn’t test my luck. 

Even the best players run out of it and I tested the limits with Satoru enough for one day. 

He pulls me closer and slings his arms around my back, pressing me to his chest and oh, his crotch. 

“I can’t believe you are hard right now.”

I don’t know why I said that outloud but I did. Nuzzling his head into the croak of my neck, he breaths in my hair and chortles. 

“Believe it, it’s the stress.”

“So you are hard 24/7?”

“Only when you are around.”

“You are such a smooth talker”, I giggle and hate myself for the way I react. 

“I think red just turned into my favorite color”, he pushes my hair back to get access to my neck, kissing it softly. I feel his fingers linger on the hem of my tight shirt, ready to pull it over my head.

“Then I should better keep it on so you have more of it.”

He grunts and bites me lightly in the shoulder, sending goosebumps down my spine.

“Let me take it off, okay?”

Instantly I want to do nothing more than nod my head, but a thought crosses my mind. 

“This wouldn’t be a good idea.”

Another grunt. 

“Please don’t tell me you were serious with the one time thing”, he leans back from my neck and looks at me, waiting to accept a rejection. 

I actually was, but now I am not anymore. The problem lies somewhere else. 

“What if someone comes in?”

“A big surprise for them”, he grins widely.

“Not funny”, I roll my eyes: “I’m serious.”

“You are always too serious”, he brushes a strand of hair behind my ear. 

“And you aren’t serious enough. Suguru could come in and catch us.”

“It doesn’t matter.”

I punch his shoulder lightly.

“It does! I don’t want him nor anyone else from the team to know about this”, I wave my finger between Satoru and me back and forth. 

“Not to break your little bubble, but they already know”, I stare with a shocked expression at him, ready to punch him for real this time. 

If he dared to-

“You weren’t exactly quiet the other night and the walls are rather thin.”

Now I wish he would have told them instead, that would be way less embarrassing. I grumble in my hands, hiding my face out of sheer mortification. Satoru just laughs, as always and grabs my hands, pulling them off my face. “It is fine.”

“It is not”, I pout. Is today my personal humiliation day? A new holiday I didn’t know about.

“It really is, princess.”

I didn’t want anyone, especially Suguru, to know I had slept with Satoru. It comes across as extremely incompetent regarding our whole contract. Our entire relationship should have stayed professional. I don’t want to know what Suguru is thinking of me. He had the most trust in me and I ended up sleeping with Satoru not even a few days into the contract. 

I’m weak. At least when it comes to Satoru. 

Wait.

This is the chance. A draw!

There is no insecurity for him to fuck out of my mind. He wants to hook up with me out of sheer fun? Lust? Whatever it is, it will create the draw I so desperately want to have. 

I want to be on equal terms again. 

“But we don’t need to anymore, you know. No more insecurity inside my head.”

Well, no more insecurity regarding looking at him and being close to him. 

“I know, but I just want to be inside you”, he looks at me with a small, pleading pout: “No, I need to be inside you.”

I exhale a steamy breath. He is again at the hem of my shirt, pulling it slightly up, rough fingertips traveling over my skin. 

“Don’t make me beg, unless it turns you on, then I will gladly beg”, his mouth is against my jawline, leaving a trail of kisses and small bites.

I nod and reap a ‘tz’ from him. 

“Give me a clear yes or no.”

I shouldn’t.

“Yes”, and his lips are suddenly on mine, just leaving them for a second as he pulls my top over my head. 

With slightly cold hands he squeezes my breasts, a moan escaping my mouth, which he catches with his. He rolls my already hard nipples between his fingers before choosing the one on the left side to close his lips around and lick. I whimper and lean my head back, giving him even more access as his now unoccupied hand enters my waistband. 

“Angel”, he whispers in my ear: “Get up for a second, we need to get rid of your pants, okay?”

He talks to me like I am slow on the uptake and at this moment I feel like it. I’m in a delicious delirium as I stand up and hold myself up on Satorus shoulders. He gets rid of my pants, not we. In a swift motion he brings me back on his lap and kisses me again, his tongue asking for excess to enter my mouth and I let him with a small sob. I want to open his pants, but he grabs my eager hands quickly. 

“I know we don’t have a lot of time, but you need to be a bit prepared, okay?”, again he talks to me slowly and I just nod, not knowing why we need to be quick. 

…

The skating course!

Dragged out of my delirium I look around for a watch. Satoru catches me scowling and states: “Don’t worry, we still have enough time.”

I pucker my lips for a second but I ended up trusting him, not wanting to call it quits now. 

And no, this isn’t just about me wanting this to. This is all about getting equal again. In my head I mentally make the note to let this really be the last time. After this Satoru and I will just be partners like we are in a law firm. 

Before I can even write the note mentally down, the thought is gone as he wets two of his fingers with his tongue before stuffing them inside my mouth too. I twirl my tongue around them too as he pulls them back out with a blop. With his other hand, he grabs my butt and slightly lifts me up as I kneel on his lap. 

Then he creeps his fingers at a slow pace up and down in between my fold to gather slick. I lean forward and lift myself a bit more up to give him better excess. Steady but so, so, so slowly he enters me. His thumb is drawing soft circles on my clit while he starts to move his fingers in and out. So slow like we are in no hurry, like he wants to torture me. 

“Please Satoru, faster”, I cry in his ear.

“Nah, angel”, he presses a kiss on my temple.

“This is your punishment for taking that picture.”

I should have known he wouldn’t let me off the hook about this picture so quickly. 

“Please, I had no idea”, I groan frustrated and sling my arms around his neck for support as I start to move my hips, trying to create speed and friction on my own. My plan failed as Satoru keeps my hips in place with his other arm around my waist now. 

“Should have thought about that before taking a picture with a random man.”

He can’t be serious, right?

How am I supposed to know Satoru has a mortal enemy out there, who out of nowhere appears in front of me at the supermarket. 

Sukuna called it fate, but what was it really?

With a light bite in my cheek, Satoru brings me back to the present as his fingers once again enter me lazily. 

“This is unfair”, I complain against his neck, thinking if I touch him more it will make him more excited, giving me what I want. 

My hands wander under his shirt, along his hard abs to his nipples, stroking them slightly. That move earned me a rough exhale from him between shut teeth. 

“Just promise me one thing.”

“Everything, I will promise you everything”, I am so desperate to get off. I can feel the coil inside me building up but it isn’t going to snap at this slow pace.

“Whatever happens between us, never fuck Sukuna, promise.”

Again his insecurity when it comes to Sukuna and me. Is it really a jealousy thing? I can’t imagine Satoru ever being jealous of someone. 

“I promise, really, I will always be on your team even if you don’t want me to.”

He looks at me with an amazed grimace before locking our lips again, finally speeding up. The lazy circles on my clit turn into rougher ones as his fingers pump into me. I breathe heavily into his shoulder as my legs start to quiver and the strength to keep them up tardily leaves me. 

He knows exactly where my weak spot is, as he supports my weight with his muscular arm, hitting the same sweet spot over and over again as his fingers work their wonders to make me cum. The coil that was built on at the slow movements, quickly grows bigger before it explodes and I cum undone around his fingers. My walls pulsate around his fingers as he lets me ride my orgasm out on them. 

I’m out of breath but I can’t wait any longer. I want him inside me right now. With shaky hands I open his pants and lift myself up on my wobbly knees to pull his pants down. His erection springs free and yeah, no baby carrot. 

Nevertheless I am still intimidated but I had him already in me and I survived it and even better liked, no loved it.

“Slow down, partner”, Satoru yelps out of breath as I position myself on top of his dick. 

“No.”, I kiss him and sink down on him, feeling my walls painfully stretch around his massive girth. He leans back, pressing his back against the wall for support and giving me time to adjust and do everything at my speed. His eyes are closed and I know he wants to do nothing more than move his hips at an incredible pace to drill into me.

But he is patient as I slip slowly down his cock, letting out small whines, each one making his cock flutter inside of me. Once I am all settled down, I take a short breather adjusting myself.

Soon enough I start to roll my hips to let him know I am ready. His reaction was immediate as he grips my hips hard, boring his fingers into the soft flesh on my stomach and just fucks raw into me. I gasp and tears escape my eyes at the sudden rough friction. My eyes roll back as he lets go off my hip with one arm, laying it now flat against my back and gripping my neck from behind. Hand in my hair to keep me steady as he slides his dick in and out of me with loud groans. He has to use a lot of strength to not keep me from falling off his lap, but he doesn’t seem to mind, not breaking a sweat over this. His tongue moves from my shoulder to my neck, up my jaw to my mouth where it means mine. 

I’m so full of him I feel everything so intense that it is mind numbing. Whenever his white pubic hair meets my clit, it sends a shiver down from head to toe. 

“Maybe I will just mark you”, he bites into my lip before kissing me again: “Making it clear who you belong to.”

He lets go of my hip and grabs my jaw between his long fingers to make me look at him.

“Would you like that, angel? Letting everyone know you are mine?”

I nod and babble a few yesyesyes.

Surely this is all filthy sex talk, right? He doesn’t really mean it. I am not his. 

“I could cum on your face and make you walk around like that or fill you up with so much of my cum your birth control fails and you will be round with my baby.”

Whatever he wants, he can have and I make sure to tell him that as I wail into the palm of my hand to keep myself quiet. 

This time we aren’t team players as we both chase our own release. His thrusts get sloppier as he supports my legs with his hands so I don’t break down on him. My chest is pressed against his, since I lost the power to uphold my body on its own. Before I lose my strength completely I climax and my head falls heavy on his shoulder as I start to see stars behind my closed eyes. 

“No one fucks you so good.”

I’m not sure if it was a statement or a question, but I can’t speak anyway, so I just nod against his hard shoulder.

Feeling my walls open and close around his dick, Satoru slides one more time fully into me, his pubic hair chilling against my clit again as he fills me up with his warm sperm, twitching inside of me until he is completely milked.

My head is resting on his shoulder and he is resting his’ on mine. 

I don’t know how long we stay like this, but after a while Satoru slaps my ass, making me jolt. 

“Time to get ready, can’t let them kids wait, right?”, he pulls me up, his dick slipping out of me, suddenly leaving me feeling empty and abandoned. Carefully he carries me to the side, my naked ass on the bench now as he gets up and pulls his pants up. He picks up my clothes and grabs a few paper towels from the shelf, placing all next to me on the bench while I am still in a state of trance. He smirks at my fucked out gooey form and slicks my hair out of my face. 

“I need to discuss something with Suguru. I will be back once the course starts.”

For a second it looks like he is leaning in for a kiss, but then he retracts and pats my shoulder like we are buddies!? As if his dick wasn’t a few seconds ago getting freaky inside my bowels. He turns around and leaves without saying another word or waiting for a response. 

I got my draw. 

But with the worst outcome possible. Being left alone, naked, with his cum leaking out of me and nothing has changed, I still know nearly nothing about him. 

Sukuna is his enemy, but why exactly does he hate him so much? It can’t be just that he is on an opposite team. 

And what does Suguru have to do with this? 

I lied to all of them. I told them I had no idea who Sukuna was. 

Well, that’s actually true to an extent, but I didn’t mention our past. 

If Satoru can have his secrets, I can have mine too.

As long as they don’t come back and bite me in the ass.