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yeonzzzn · 10 months ago

Text

consequences: sim jaeyun

pairing: jake x afab!reader word count: 4.4k

synopsis: folding your boyfriends laundry is a normal for you, mostly when his schedule is busy. so being the good girlfriend you are, you fold his laundry and stumble upon his soccer jersey, deciding to tease him with it and ultimately dealing with the consequences of your actions once he returns home.

genre: established relationship, non-idol!au, soccer player!jake, smut

warnings: swearing, sending nudes, bratty reader, masturbation, degrading, unprotected sex, dom!jake, jake rips readers panties, he is rough with reader, hair pulling, sex on the counter top, finger sucking, edging, MINORS DNI, lmk if I missed anything ♡

this is specially dedicated to @alvojake for helping me create this masterpiece ♡

You let yourself into your boyfriend's apartment, finding the hidden spare key inside the fake potted plant by the door, and strolling on inside. You knew he didn’t mind, you practically lived here anyway, preferring his bed over the shitty one you had back at the dorms. You might as well just move in with him at this point, most of your clothes and belongings are here as well.

Again, it was perfectly normal for you to randomly show up at his apartment even when he wasn’t home. Sending him a quick text letting him know you’re waiting for him to come home from work and soccer practice, to which he responds back with three heart-eye emojis.

Jake is always working so hard, not just at his job and college, but also at his sport, and on top of being a great boyfriend and always making time for you within his busy schedule. Taking the “if they want to they will!!” to a whole other level. Jake spoils you, cooks for you, always makes sure you feel loved and cared and most of all, he communicates.

And because he is always giving everything his one hundred percent in all areas, the least you could do is help keep his apartment clean, fridge and pantry stocked with food, and keep up with his laundry.

Which is the first thing your eyes are laid upon when you walk into the apartment, seeing all his clothes tossed onto the couch with his clean clothes laundry basket sitting beside the coffee table.

The apartment smelt of his laundry detergent and soap, the sweet smell of lavender and honey filling your senses as you stepped closer to the couch, on instinct sitting down in the middle of the couch and picking at the clothing one by one to fold them. Separating them into categories as you folded: jeans and sweatpants, boxers and socks, shirts, tanks, and sweatshirts, his hoodies, his dressier clothing, and last but not least, his soccer jerseys.

Not only did Jake have a couple extra jerseys from the team he plays on for the college you both attended, but professional jerseys from his favorite teams.

One by one, you took the now folded laundry to his bedroom, placing them neatly in his dresser. But once it was time for the jerseys to be played neatly in, you accidentally dropped one onto the floor.

With a sigh, you gently pressed the other jerseys into the drawer, then picked up the now unfolded one. You stared at his last name printed in big bolded “SIM” lettering, your eyes roaming at the blue and white stripes of your college's colors, then wandering up to the full-length mirror that rested against his bedroom wall, seeing your reflection.

You rubbed your thighs together at the thoughts that came into your mind, tucking your lip between your teeth.

You didn’t think twice about removing your clothing, leaving you completely naked until you pulled his jersey over your head, your hard nipples poking through the thin fabric.

Sitting yourself on the floor in front of the mirror, you snapped a few photos, spreading your legs wide enough to expose your cunt and sitting straight enough that your nipples could obviously be seen. You turned yourself around, sitting pretty on your legs, lifting his jersey up enough to get a perfect view of your ass, and snapped a couple more photos.

You grinned at yourself as you double-checked each photo, being satisfied with the outcomes. All you had to do now was send them on their way to your boyfriend.

Jake sat at his computer desk, picking the lint out of the pockets of his jeans while watching Heeseung and Jay play rock paper scissors out of pure boredom. Usually, on a normal day, there’d be something to do. Whether that was paperwork, speaking to clients, scheduling meetings, or placing orders. But today? Not. A. Damn. Fucking. Thing. It took everything in Jake to not purposely sit back into his chair far enough that it tipped over and caused a panic just to help give everyone something to do.

He checked the clock at the far end of the office, still two hours left before he could dip out and head to soccer practice then return home and be in your arms. Which was the only thing keeping him from jumping out the second-story window from this boredom, by the way.

As if the thoughts of you were enough to manifest your text, he couldn’t hold back the smile at seeing your name on his phone.

you: I folded your laundry jakey <3 jake: tysm baby <3 what would I do without you fr fr?

The love Jake felt for you in this moment made him feel all warm and content, you were so good to him and for him. He literally couldn’t ask for a better girlfriend.

you: I did more than just your laundry. jake: oh? you: [6 image attachments]

Jake nearly dropped his phone to the floor, his pants growing tighter the minute those sexy photos popped up in his texts. Quickly locked his phone and with a swift motion glanced over his shoulder making sure none of his co-workers were behind him when he received those photos.

You smirked at seeing he read the message, already knowing he was probably panicking while being as hard as a rock. Leaning back on your ass to spread your legs further apart, you slide your fingers down your folds, spreading your lips apart. The very thought of Jake squirming at his desk to hide his raging boner had you completely soaked.

Jake tried to clear his thoughts, to take deep breaths to keep calm and soften his cock but not having any luck. The images of bending you over this desk in front of him and railing the fuck out of you in his jersey wouldn’t leave his brain. His pants grew ever more tighter against him.

He knew he had to take care of this boner and fast before anyone noticed and he became the laughing joke for the next month.

With anger now fueling him, he grabbed his jacket from the back of the chair and held it close to his lower stomach as he stood from his chair, “Gonna take a quick break, be right back,” he said to Heeseung and Jay, they giving him a quick nod before returning to their rock paper scissors game.

Jake slammed the bathroom door shut and locked, tossing his jacket to the counter. Unbuttoning his pants and pulling the zipper down feeling the relief of his throbbing cock not being restricted, slamming his back against the door.

Jake fumbled with his phone in his hands, fingers shaking as he texted you back after saving each photo one by one.

jake: that was risky sending nudes like that while I am working. you: but you loved it, didn’t you? ;) jake: what if someone saw them? i’m the only one who gets to see you like that. you: oops you: [2 image attachments]

He clicked the two new photos, seeing the way your fingers spread your folds apart, your cunt glistening against the sunlight that beamed into the room from your slick.

Jake gritted his teeth, immediately dialing your number and pressing the phone to his ear, the call instantly going to voice mail, “ugh fucking whore,” he grumbled, redialing your number again. You knew better than to ignore his call a second time and answer.

With a shaky voice, you said, “Hey baby,”

“Hmm don’t hey baby me,” he growled, his free hand palming himself through his boxers at your voice, “you’re being so risky right now sending me those nudes, YN.”

You could tell by his voice how hard and turned-on he was. You could hear it in his voice that he was touching himself. It made you circle your fingers on your clit and cunt clench around nothing, “Hmm but you’re enjoying it, aren’t you Jakey?”

He slid his boxers and jeans down to his thighs, seeing how red and angry his cock was, how the precum slowly dripped down the side of the tip. He took himself in his hand and slowly pumped himself, “You’re being so naughty right now, being so slutty.”

You softly moan at him degrading you, rubbing your fingers against your fuck hole, the lewd sounds making their way into Jake’s ear.

“You better not be touching yourself,” he snapped, pumping his cock faster, tightening his fingers. He was so angry and so horny that the lines were getting blurred. He wanted nothing more than for his fingers to be the ones rubbing your clit, sliding his fingers in and out of you.

“And what if I am?” you cooed, hovering your fingers over your hole.

“Stop,” he demanded, “Stop pleasuring yourself without me there as punishment for sending me nudes while I am working.”

Jake had to admit this was so fucking hot. Even if your bratty behavior was driving him up a wall in more than just one way.

“And if I don’t?” you cooed again, licking your bottom lip.

“Keep being a brat and find out.”

You pushed your fingers into your cunt, releasing a soft gasp.

“You better not be fucking touching yourself,” he said again.

You giggled, then ended the call.

Oh, now he was pissed.

Jake dropped his cock against his abdomen, both thumbs moving at the speed of light in anger, texting out a message about your bratty behavior, but stopping midway through to see a photo and video coming up.

The photo made his jaw clench. His jersey was now pulled up over your breasts, your perky nipples on full display as your legs are spread even wider than in the last couple of photos, with two of your fingers pushed knuckles deep into your pussy.

What a fucking brat.

The video was worse. You moaned loudly as you circled your fingers around your clit, then slowly slipped them between your legs, gathering your juices from your seeping hole, rubbing it up and spreading it around your lips. A small amount of it leaked from your cunt, slowly dripping down to the hardwood floor of his bedroom and then the video ended.

WHAT. A. FUCKING. BRAT.

He spit in his hand and took his cock back into his palm, stroking himself faster than before, head tilting back onto the door, biting his lip to keep his moans at a minimal level as his thumb worked to text you back.

jake: it’s all over for you you: oh yeah? jake: yeah jake: i’m going to fucking ruin you

You smirked, locking your phone and tossing it onto his bed, and pulled your pretty dark blue panties back onto your body.

While you were smitten at what you’ve created, Jake is drawing blood from his lip at how hard his teeth bit down. His hand pumping him in a pit of anger. How dare you disobey him? Even if it made him even more horny, how dare you? It was one thing to be bratty while with him, but to be so brave to do it while he’s away from you? Did you think you were safe? Nah. It’s over for you the minute he steps foot into that apartment. You wouldn’t know peace. Getting everything but being gentle with you.

Jake flipped through the photos and video you sent him, watching again and again how your slick drips from your cunt and onto his floor until his cum shoots out, coating his stomach. He loved seeing you wearing his clothes, mostly his jersey. Loving seeing his last name printed on the back with your gorgeous fat ass out sitting so perfectly on your perfect legs. Jake didn’t hesitate to make that his new home wallpaper. It was so fucking hot even with how mad he was.

Jerking off might have taken care of his boner problem, but the main issue here is the fact he still has a little over an hour before getting off work and still had soccer practice to attend. The only thing Jake knew was you definitely made his workday entertaining.

You were banking on that by the time Jake gets off work and attends practice, he would be way too tired to even punish you. So you pranced around his apartment in his jersey and your dark blue panties with a big ole smile on your face.

Your stomach growled and decided to push your bratty, naughty girlfriend persona off to the back burner and go back to your sweet, caring, loving, and cute girlfriend persona who takes care of her boyfriend’s apartment while he’s away.

You cooked dinner, which you don’t often do but still will on days Jake has longer schedules like tonight—putting together the perfect recipe for spaghetti and meatballs.

Once the food was done, you checked the time, seeing Jake was probably off work now and heading to practice. You felt good knowing that once he returns home he’ll have a warm meal to eat.

Except, you weren’t expecting what was about to happen.

Jake skipped practice.

Being way too damn horny and couldn’t wait a second longer. Jake was lucky he was able to keep a perfect boner (that unfortunately resurfaced) during the last hour of work. Made a phone call the minute he was out of his company building to his coach about how something urgent came up and he’d be missing practice tonight.

Urgent as in him fucking you until you could no longer stand or walk. For a whole fucking week.

Jake was sneaky as he carefully pushed his key into the doorknob and tip-toed his way in. Slowly and quietly closing the door behind him and slipping out of his shoes.

The smell of dinner filled his nose as he turned the corner, seeing you stand at the counter with your back facing him.

Jake carefully made his way across the living room, removing his shirt from his body, stopping at the couch to quietly yank down his jeans and boxers and slide them over the back of the couch.

You hummed to yourself as you finished up your dinner, wiggling your hips to whatever song you had stuck in your head.

Jake adored you, he really did. The feeling of endearment filled his heart at seeing how happy and cute you looked right now. Jake almost—almost—forgave your behavior from earlier at the sight before him and the smell of dinner waiting for him. But his raging hard cock and the flash of your dark blue panties pulled him back. He’ll give you his forgiveness another time.

You barely pushed the empty plate away from you when you felt a pair of hands touch you. One at the back of your neck and the other on your back, shoving you forward onto the counter. Your face is now pressed against the cool marble.

Your breath hitched at feeling your boyfriend’s long, hard length connecting to your ass. You don’t even need to look at him to know the hands and cock touching you’re his. You could be blind and you’d know your boyfriend's hands without a second thought.

You finally saw him in your peripheral vision as his chest connected to your back, hot breath hitting your ear, “You think making dinner would put you in good graces?”

“Jae,” you whined, “You’re home so early.”

He chuckled into your ear, “Skipped practice, had more important matters to take care of.”

Important matters being to punish you for your behavior. You could already feel your slick pooling in your panties even as your heart raced, mind wondering what he had in store for you. You could also tell he was already naked, meaning Jake meant business and no amount of apologizing would save you. Not that you wanted to be saved anyway.

The hand that was at your back slid down, aggressively squeezing your ass before slipping his hand around your thigh and between your legs, feeling your wetness pool onto his fingers. Jake hissed at the feeling. You were soaked. He didn’t even need to prep you. And that drove him insane.

“I told you to not fucking touch yourself,” he growled, his tongue licking up your ear, “But you had to go be a slut and disobey me.”

You backed your ass against him, both hands shooting to your hips and gripping them tightly, “Don’t,” he warned, “Don’t fucking move.”

You obeyed, keeping as still as possible. Trying so hard to not rub your thighs together in anticipation of what is to come.

Jake lifted himself off of you, eyes drifting down to your dark blue panties, seeing the wet spot from your cunt on full display, all for him.

Jake didn’t want to wait those few couple seconds to slide your pretty panties down your legs and throw them across the room. No, no. That wouldn’t be fun. He looped his index fingers into the fabric and the sound of them ripping filled the kitchen.

“Jake!” you snapped, starting to lift yourself off the counter, only to feel his hand right back on your neck and face meeting the marble once again, “Those were my favorite panties!”

“Womp womp,” he cooed, his thumb rubbing circles on the back of your neck, as his fingers slid down to your clit, “Shouldn't have been acting like a fucking brat today. I also told you to not fucking move.”

Jake violently, and fastly, circled his fingers on your clit. It took everything in you to not moan out in such pleasure. Not wanting to give your boyfriend the satisfaction of hearing you. He wanted to call you a brat? You’ll act like a brat.

Jake wasn’t stupid, he knew you were purposely holding back those sweet moans he desperately wanted to hear all in a way to get back at him. Unfortunately for you, Jake knows your body inside and out. Know what gets you going. Knows how to get you cumming with just his words alone. Knows how to work his cock in your pussy that will have you scream chanting his name at the top of your lungs for the whole apartment complex to hear.

He released his hand from your neck and wrapped it in your hair in a makeshift ponytail, yanking harshly to pull you up, your back now pressed to his chest.

“Wanna act like a fucking brat with me, hmm? What will be happening next is the consequences of your actions.”

Your bratty behavior was short-lived as his fingers worked faster against your clit, his breath whispering how much of a slut you were, his little whore, how bad of a girl you were acting today.

Your body tensed, and Jake removed his fingers, “Jae,” you whined at the loss of his fingers, feeling the climax you so badly wanted fade away, taking it upon yourself to slide your own fingers to your heat to finish yourself off, only for Jake to slap your hand away, and you were back to being bent over the countertop, your arms being pinned above you.

“Nah,” he groaned, his free hand gripping your thigh to bend it up and onto the counter, “Bad girls don’t get to cum, not when they disobey their boyfriend.”

You groaned against the marble, feeling your hot breath push back up at you, “Jae, I’m sorry,”

Jake smirked, he finally broke you.

“Oh, yeah?” he whispered, taking his cock between his fingers and lining the tip up to your fuck hole, “You’re sorry?”

You nodded, fingers gripping the hand that held yours. You wanted his cock so far up inside you so bad you were willing to beg, to apologize if it got you what you wanted.

Jake slowly pushed the tip in, “Use your words, baby,”

“Yes,” you pant, “I am sorry for being a brat.”

“Hmmm,” Jake hummed, “You’re still going to be punished.”

Jake aggressively pushed himself into you, completely bottoming out.

You chant out a string of “yes yes yes,” at him filling you up. But to your dismay, he didn’t move.

His fingers found your clit again, going just as fast as they did before his palm pushed down on your tummy, putting more pressure on his dick wrapped in your walls.

You let out wet moans, drool sliding out your mouth and onto the countertop.

“Louder, baby,” he groaned, “let me hear those sounds,”

You moaned louder, cunt clenching around him, and his fingers were once again gone.

You hissed at him and he just chuckled, “I told you bad girls don’t get to cum,”

He continued to edge you, dick still not moving inside of you, reminding you over and over again that this was your punishment, this was the consequences of your actions. Being denied the release you so desperately wanted.

Tears filled your eyes, head softly tilting up to make eye contact with him.

His pupils were blown out, full of lust, want, and need. You could tell by his facial expression he was losing his fucking mind. But Jake was strong-willed, and all it took was you locking eyes with him, batting those pretty eyes at him with those little tears for his grin to grow wider and decide to finally let you release.

Jake loved edging you, loved being so dominant and in control over you. Most importantly, he loved seeing how he’s ruined you.

“Cum,” he whispered into your ear, “Cum for me my love, make a sweet mess on my cock.”

You clenched around him, his fingers continued making their circles and showing no sign of slowing down until he felt your release on his cock.

“Fuck, yes,” he moaned, slowing his fingers.

Jake could feel your cum seeping out of your hole and down his thigh. He lifted your leg on the countertop even higher, spreading you so wide for him.

Then he started moving.

You yelped, your back arching, hands scrambling to get out of his hold to grip the counter. He fucked into you at a primal rate. The hand on your thigh squeezing the plush so hard his nails dug into the skin sure to leave bruises.

His hand released your hands and found their way back into your hair, pulling you back up against his chest.

“Scream my name,” he moaned into your ear, breathing unevenly from the pure pleasure his cock was feeling as he railed you against this counter, “Scream my name.”

And you did, using every ounce of air in your lungs to scream his name, his cock hitting your g-spot as your climax built up again. You already knew you’d have bruises on your hips from hitting the counter by his fucking, that your voice would be nonexistent in the morning, your legs would be jelly, and barely be able to move.

But you loved it. Loved every bit of it. These were the consequences of your choices, after all.

You leaned your head back onto his shoulder, mouth gaping open as you continued to moan out his name in pleasure. Jake couldn’t help himself, your mouth looked so pretty all open for him and shoved his fingers into your mouth, the middle pushing down onto your tongue.

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, tongue swirling around his digits the best you could with the pressure he had on it.

Jake was losing his mind as he looked down at you, seeing the way your breasts bounce as his dick fucked up into you, seeing the way your nipples graze against his jersey.

Fuck he was so in love with you.

His thrusts became sloppy and not as aggressive. He was reaching his climax.

“Ughh m’gunna cum,” he moaned, your lips wrapping around his fingers and slightly biting down onto them, making him hiss in response.

Jake wanted to cum so fucking bad, wanted to feel you tightly around him as he came.

He shoved your leg off the counter, groaning as he forced your thighs to touch, making you so much tighter around him. You came right then and there from that pressure, sending Jake’s head spinning.

He bent you back over the countertop, removing his fingers from your mouth and gripping the other side of the counter, his hand that was in your mouth slipping from your saliva and accidentally shoving the plate that once held your dinner off the counter and onto the hard floor with a crash.

He pressed his chest to your back, using all his leg and hip strength to fuck harder into you in a way of begging for his release. His knuckles turned white from the grip he had on the counter, teeth biting down into your shoulder.

The last moan you let out in sync with his final thrust sent him over the edge, his cum painting your walls. Jake thrust a couple more times to chase his high, milking his cock with your cunt of every last drop until it was leaking down your leg.

“Fuck, fuck,” he pants, releasing the counter and running his hands down to your waist, softly squeezing as he plants soft kisses on your back, “I fucking love you.”

With a shaky breath, you told him you loved him too.

He pulled out of you, and lifted you from the counter, already seeing how wobbly your legs were, it boosted his ego.

Jake embraced you, kissing all over your face before landing on your lips in a soft, passionate kiss.

Just when you think you’ve paid your dues, Jake’s cock hardened against your stomach, and his eyes went dark again, his index finger pointing at the broken plate on the floor while his other hand gripped your chin, “Clean it up please for me baby while I eat the delicious dinner you made for me, can’t let it go to waste.”

You nodded, watching as Jake removed himself from you and walked to the stove, grabbing a plate. You studied his back muscles, lip tucking between your teeth at how sexy he was shirtless, how sexy his back was.

“Oh, YN?” you hummed in response, watching as he slowly turned to face you, “Drink some water to soothe that throat of yours will ya? You’re going to suck me off after I eat.”

You rubbed your thighs together in excitement. Hands playing with the ends of his jersey.

Maybe you’ll be a brat when he’s away more often.

#jake bby #sim jake #sim jaeyun #jake x reader #reader x jake #sim jake smut #enhypen #enhypen x reader #reader x enhypen #enhypen fanfiction #enhypen fanfic #enhypen imagines #enhypen scenarios #enhypen smut #enhypen hard thoughts #enhypen hard hours #yeonzzzn writing

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tteokdoroki · 11 months ago

Note

So did jock!yuji ask weird girl!reader to wear his jersey the first time, or did she just pull up in it as a surprise...

࣪𖤐๋࣭ — JOCK BF!YUUJI ENTRY #3. team jersey.

about. the all star jock asks his freaky girlfriend to start wearing his jersey to games. it shouldn’t be a big deal, right? since she’s always asking to live in his skin and all ! ( 2K )

warnings. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact! sfw, fluff, suggestive, college!au, characters aged up to 20s, make outs. brief mentions of self consciousness, reader wants to live in yuuji’s skin n he accepts it, supportive jock bf!itadori, weird gf + fem!reader.

“so, i’ve been thinkin’,”

from your place at your desk, you spin around in your chair to face yuuji, your boyfriend, with a curious smile. thinking things through isn’t exactly yuuji itadori’s forte — he’s one for jumping into things headfirst and doing whatever feels right in the moment. he’s always been like that, aside from two major occasions.

the first time he’d asked you out and the time he’d asked you to be his girlfriend.

those were two decisions he’d thought through extensively.

“thinking, huh?” you muse out loud, standing up to stretch your limbs. you’ve been staring at your laptop for what seems like millennia to finish a science paper for your biology class, and yuuji is supposed to be studying for one of his econ exams coming up but you decide that you need a break…and a kiss from your boyfriend at that. “what about?”

he’s already waiting for you with open arms on your bed by the time you make your way over to him — it’s a silly sight, the view of your big, strong, athletic boyfriend nestled amongst your mountain of plushies from obscure animanga series and marvel marvel movies. but it fills you with joy to have yuuji there, amongst all of the other things you love. accepting them with ease.

“‘bout you,” yuuji mumbles through a pout, waiting impatiently for a kiss as you snuggle into his muscular arms and rest your head on his plush chest.

reaching up, you rap your knuckles against his skull — brushing tufts of soft baby pink hair. “you’re corny. you should have been thinking about your exams.”

“mmyeah, but i got bored, and you’re too pretty to not be on my mind twenty-four-seven.” comes the jock’s sassy reply as he decides he no longer wants to wait, swooping down to steal a kiss from your precious lips. yuuji gently grasps your chin between a thumb and forefinger to coax more of a kiss out of you, his tongue affectionately rolling over yours while you squirm and mewl in his hold. you’re flustered, and embarrassed, and he really couldn’t care less. he likes having you like this underneath him.

when he finally lets you come up for air, itadori’s calloused thumb swipes under the swell of your bottom lip to wipe away the traces of wetness he’s left there and grind, slow and sexy, when you try to hide your face in your sleeves. “so as i was saying,” he mumbles lowly, causing your body to break out in a set of yuuji-induced shivers. “i was thinking about you.”

“yeah?” you whisper meekly, taking a peek up at his handsome face and honey brown eyes that make you feel all gooey and warm at the centre, where your heart is. like a marshmallow.

yuuji nods, tugging you into his side again, stopping you from rolling away out of shyness. “mhm,” he purrs. “been thinking about you coming to one of my games in my jersey,” he trails off, this time turning into the shy one as he casts his gaze aside. “if you’d want to.”

you’ve seen yuuji’s jerseys — the ones that come with the territory of being on your university’s soccer team. they look good on him, always, just about stretching over the firm muscle of his arms and chest. you know that if you were to wear the soft, cotton material — you’d surely drown in it. swamped by the cosy, fresh scent of your boyfriend and wrapped up in all of his love for you.

rolling over so that you’re the one caging yuuji in this time, you bite down on your kiss swollen lips hesitantly. “is that a requirement of all athlete girlfriends then?”

“n-no! i just…” itadori coughs to clear his throat, realising that it’s not so fun being in the receiving end of such teasing. his hand on your waist traverses upwards, splaying out against the curve of your spine. “i want — i would like to see you in my clothes at my games. i dunno, show you off a little? with my name across your back, it’s like, people will know i belong to you and you belong to me? if that makes sense…”

“belong to each other, huh?” you walk your fingers up his chest, drawing a circle over the place where his big heart is supposed to be. “we’re not objects, yuuji. you’re not an object to me.”

the tone of the conversation shifts as itadori sits up, causing you to shuffle back onto your knees — his hazel brown eyes sweep your face, reminding you of an amber with the way they catch the light. “i-i know that. of course not,” yuuji whispers delicately, as though not to hurt you. “you’re not an object to me either. you’re everything to me. i just think…it would make me feel good? if you wore something of mine? like, just knowing you have it. i dunno — it’s stupid.”

it’s almost biological, a genetically programmed reaction — the way you reach out instantly to comfort your boyfriend. your hand finds his amongst the cotton peaks and streets formed in your bed sheets, giving it a firm squeeze. yuuji offers you a half hearted smile in response.

“you don’t have to —“

“ — i don’t know if i’d look good in it. your jersey,” you breathe out before your boyfriend can finish his sentence. both of you pause, itadori doesn’t push, giving you the space and time to express yourself. “i want to wear it. i just, i know i’m not like the other teammates’ partners. i’m not…peppy and enthusiastic like them a-and i don’t know if your jersey would even suit me…”

the hand that you’re holding reaches up to cup your chin once more and your gaze leers over to yuuji, who only chuckles fondly in response. “of course you’re not like the other partners. you’re special, and you’re mine. i don’t need you to be anything else but the way that you are, okay? i love you.” yuuji has always been direct and worn his heart on his sleeves with his words already formed on the tip of his tongue. some might think he’s dumb, especially for a jock, but he’s the most emotionally intelligent person you’ve ever had the pleasure of knowing.

you know now, what he means when he says he’s the luckiest guy in the world, for being with you.

you feel the exact same way as he does.

“i love you back,” you blurt, making yuuji beam at you warmly and kiss your nose. “i’ll wear it.” you tug on the fabric, feeling the fleeciness beneath your fingertips along with the warmth of yuuji’s body. “are you sure you won’t miss it?” you explore the material further as it stays wrapped around his bulky frame until you brush over the plasticky vinyl that forms the letters of his name and the number one on the back of the jersey.

i-t-a-d-o-r-i

your itadori.

why wouldn’t you want to show everyone that he’s yours just as much as you are his.

“i’ve got plenty back at my dorm, coach satoru made sure to splurge in that aspect, besides if i give it to you now… when i get it back, it’ll smell like you!” yuuji pulls back from you ever so slightly, and rolls his eyes at your pout when he does so. “then i’ll just keep changing them out,” it only takes you a second to realise that he’s stripping his jersey off, and your eyes greedily shoot to the small, exposed slit of his tummy as he does so. “perv.” comes his teasing voice once his head pops through the other end — salmon pink hair mussed and ruffled out of place.

your pout deepens. “i am not a perv!”

“mhm, yeah. sure you aren’t. now c’mere,” itadori manhandles you into straddling his lap — your knees sinking into the comforter on your bed and your hands hovering above his broad shoulders, hesitant to touch the pure muscle that bursts from the sleeves of his plain white t-shirt. “i don’t believe for a second that you don’t get off on this,” he goes on to mock you, smirking up at you despite how you glare at him. “arms up, beautiful.”

through the haze of your mind (deployed by a very flirty yuuji itadori) you’re able to follow his command — shakily raising both arms above your head and allowing your boyfriend to pull his team jersey over it. “who’s more of a perv now? you’re giving me your dirty clothes to wear.” is your weak argument, a defence mechanism to protect yourself from getting too flustered.

it doesn’t work, however, yuuji has mastered the art of making you nervous.

the material of his team jersey swamps you, it’s almost like you’re drowning in an ocean of yuuji’s scent as it wraps around you, keeping you safe and secure.

“it’s not dirty, i just put it on today!” he says petulantly. “if you’re gonna be like that, then give it back.”

“n-no!” you squeak, tucking your nose under the collar with hooded eyes. it smells like yuuji, smells like home. “i like it. it’s like i’m wearing you.”

“the next best thing after my skin, right?” he makes reference to your constant comments about living inside his skin, wanting to be closer to yuuji than humanly possible. others find it weird, but to the jock, it’s endearing. even if it means being swatted in the chest for joking about your unusual displays of affection. “c’mon! i’m jokin’, i’m jokin’!” yuuji laughs between each smack of your palm against his peck. eventually he falls back into the sheets, this time taking you with him so that you’re snuggled on his chest once more. “so…you’re coming to the game this friday? in my jersey?” he asks tentatively after you’ve both calmed down.

nodding, you curl into the pink-haired jock further, as if trying to fuse with him. “where do you want me to sit?”

“not with the others, i know they’re a little rowdier than you’d like. you could try coach, but he likes to pester you.” your boyfriend muses wistfully. everything is warm and comfortable — the steady beat of his heart beneath your head, the hand that he lazily drags up and down your spine, the heat of his jersey and his body under yours. you could sleep right now — even if you do have to study.

a quiet yawn escapes your lips and you wriggle further into the oversized jersey, lulled into a slumber by the presence and scent of your perfect jock boyfriend. “will professor geto be there?”

yuuji shrugs, squeezing you close to help you drift off. “to oogle satoru, probably.”

“then i’ll sit with him, and we can oogle our boys together.”

“awwh, baby, you wanna oogle little old me?” he coos in response, his lips finding the crown of your head.

something about his sugary tone makes you shudder in yuuji’s hold. you’ll never get over how much he teases you, how much you loves you but it makes you giddy to know that he’s yours. and that he wants you to wear his jersey, so he can already the news to the whole world.

or what feels like the whole world.

“i do yuuji, i want to see you play,” you mumble through your last moments of consciousness — gripping onto your boyfriend as though he might disappear. “i want to be in the crowd so when you look up, you see me there, dressed in your jersey, cheering you on.”

for a moment, yuuji is quiet — a thousand ways to tell you how much he loves you rushing to the forefront of his mind…but then he notices the evening out of your breath and the way your pretty lashes flutter against the centre of his chest. the jock decides it’s better to let you rest, he can always smother you with his love when you wake up.

but for now, yuuji itadori will spend his time marvelling the way you look sleeping with the letters of his name printed in bold letters across your back.

#⋆｡°✩ — jock bf!yuuji #itadori x reader #itadori fluff #yuuji itadori x reader #yuuji itadori fluff #yuuji itadori x you #jjk x reader #jjk fluff #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujutsu kaisen x you #itadori x you #jjk smut #jjk x you #✧ ₊˚੭ — writing #tteokdoroki #angelshubnetwork #ghostqueues

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13uswntimagines · 7 months ago

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3 More Days (Alessia X Leah X Child!R)

part of the Big Emotions Universe. Set before Big Emotions and Cookies for Luck

Summary: It's your first World Cup. Your first time in Australia, and the first time you ever had to be away from your Mama thanks to the stupid FIFA rules. The truth is that neither of you are dealing with the separation well. You just need to make it 3 more days.

warnings: none. soft angst if you squint, otherwise it's just a cute kidfic.

You decided you did not like Australia.

You didn’t care if they had cute koalas, and a super cool aquarium, and people with cooler accents.

You didn’t care that Uncle Luca had taken you to meet a turtle named Irwin, or that he let you and Squirt pick out a new stuffed octopus friend (you and Squirt hadn’t decided on a name yet).

Australia was mean. Your mama was mean.

The stupid soccer rules that said you couldn’t stay in the shiny hotel with her were mean.

All of her teammates were mean.

You did not like Australia.

You frowned at the field, wiggling in your seat as the keepers jogged out of the tunnel for warmups.

You decided you did not like the World Cup either.

“Why the long face Tiny?” Uncle Luca asked you, adjusting your turtle jacket.

Your shoulders lifted and fell, and a little crinkle appeared between your eyebrows as Mary took her place in the goal in front of you. “No wike it,”

He hugged you, lifting you from your seat into his lap. “What don’t you like?”

You leaned back into his chest. Your little shoulders shrugged again. “No wike it,”

“Ok,” He sighed. “Do you want a cookie? So Mama has good luck against Australia?”

He pulled a small chocolate-covered cookie out of your turtle backpack, offering it to you.

Your nose scrunched as you pushed it away. “No wan it,”

You didn’t care that it was your favorite, the one with oranges in the middle. You didn’t want your mama to have good luck.

You just wanted to not be in Australia.

You wanted to be back in your apartment that Leah sometimes visited.

You wanted to not have to say bye to your Mama after the game.

“Alright tiny,” He said, slipping the cookie back into your backpack, and pulling you closer to him. “Hey look, Mama is coming,”

He hoped that seeing Alessia would pull you out of your funk.

You had been… moody, even for a 2-year-old, ever since you landed in Australia. You hadn’t been able to fly with the team, but Alessia and Luca ensured you got to see your Mama daily. And the days you couldn’t, Uncle Luca and Nona did their best to distract you with trips to places like the Aquarium, the Zoo, and the beach.

It seemed to work at first, but with each passing day, your smile dimmed, and your interest in their planned activities dwindled.

Even your favorite pastime, watching your mama play soccer, didn’t pique your interest.

Your eyes followed his hand, watching with halfhearted care as your mama finally emerged from the tunnel, chatting with your Aunt Ella and Lucy.

You waited for her to look up.

To wave to you like she always did.

But she didn’t.

You sunk back into Luca, your gaze drifting away from your mama, and towards Mary just as she dove for a save.

She caught the ball easily, rolling her shoulders as she stood, and glancing back towards the crowd who cheered behind her. She smiled when she saw your tiny form bundled in Luca’s lap, sending a wave your way.

You brightened considerably, lifting your hand in response, and nudging Luca.

“Mazza,” You mumbled, pointing towards the keeper.

“She’s pretty good, isn’t she?”

You blinked toward the new voice, taking in the sight of your second favorite person.

“Leah!”

You launched yourself towards the defender, uncaring of the fact that she was still on crutches. The force would have knocked her over had she not been standing against the guardrail.

“Hey Bug,” She said as you buried yourself in her neck, clutching her England jersey like you thought she would disappear.

Things had been difficult since she had torn her ACL and hadn’t been able to visit you and your Mama as much as she liked.

Her rehab was difficult and consumed her. It was why Alesia’s brother and mother had been tasked with caring for you during the tournament.

“Hey,” You mumbled back, keeping yourself tucked into her neck. “No go? Stay now?”

“Yeah Bug, I’m going to stay and watch the game with you,” She promised, rubbing your back. “We’re going to watch your Mama win,”

She shifted, settling into the chair next to your Uncle, and pulling you into her lap. You didn’t look up, ignoring when she waved towards your Mama and received a wave back in return.

You missed how Alessia stared at the two of you, and the unspoken conversation that passed between them.

The continuation of the conversations they had been having since before you left for Australia, and Fifa had announced the rules that banned children from the team hotels. Since Serina had reached out to make sure that You would be taken care of during the tournament.

A conversation that both women knew wasn’t over yet.

But warmups were not the time to continue it.

********

Leah was worried.

More than worried.

You were normally like a ray of sunshine. You followed a game with rapt attention, cheering, and booing like it was in your blood. You waved at the players you knew and got excited when they waved back, especially if it was mid-match.

Today, you just… didn't.

You seemed wilted. Tired.

You barely peeked out of her chest, even after the game had started.

“Hey look, they’re getting ready for a corner,” Leah said, bouncing you a bit as the teams set up in front of you.

You glanced up at her, both eyebrows raised. “Flying header?”

“Maybe,” Leah hummed, running a hand through your wild curls. “You’d have to watch to see,”

Your nose scrunched immediately.

“No wike it,” You grumbled, pressing yourself impossibly closer to Leah’s chest.

“What don’t you like bug?” She asked you, trying to coax you out of your hiding place.

“Elle is going to take the kick,” Luca added, nudging your arm, trying to get you to look.

You didn’t.

You whined loudly, clutching Leah’s jersey impossibly tighter in your little fingers.

They shared a look.

You were not a winy child.

You didn’t generally get fussy unless you were tired or sick.

“Ok bug,” Leah sighed as Elle lined up for the kick, raising her hand as the rest of the team jockeyed for position in front of goal. “It’s all ok,”

Elle’s foot hit the ball with a low thump, sending it flying in a perfect arch towards your Mama’s waiting head.

All it took was a perfect flick, and it was in the back of the net.

Alessia’s eyes immediately found the two of you as the stadium erupted.

She expected you and Leah to be cheering too. For you to be clapping and happy like you normally were any time she scored.

Instead, your face was buried in Leah’s neck, Lucas's hand rubbing your back.

She frowned, raising her eyebrow towards the pair.

Leah shrugged, rocking you gently.

Neither of them knew exactly what had upset you. Only that you apparently didn’t want or like whatever it was.

“Mama scored!” Luca cheered, rubbing your back more insistently.

You turned your head to blink at him.

“No want it,” You mumbled miserably, a contrast to the excitement still buzzing around you.

Leah sighed, gently scratching the back of your head. “I know bug. It’s ok,”

“Nooo!” You screeched, shaking your head, because she didn’t know. No one knew, and no one was doing anything about it.

They just kept telling you that it was ok.

It wasn’t ok.

“Ok, let’s take a walk tiny,” Luca scooped you out of Leah’s arms easily, already sensing the impending meltdown. “I think I saw a cool turtle shirt and a snack,”

It was becoming a twisted routine of sorts. You becoming frustrated and overstimulated, and Luca would take you for a walk to try and distract you from the big feelings you didn’t have words to explain.

Your hands twisted in his shirt and you tucked yourself into him, quieting more quickly than Leah thought you would.

“Nack,” You repeated.

“Yeah, let’s go get a snack,” Luca said, bouncing you gently. “We’ll bring one back for Leah too,”

He winked at the defender, as he headed up the stairs towards the concessions, and you peeked over his shoulder at her as he carried you away.

She sent you a little wave, smiling slightly when you waved back.

She hoped that things would look up for you now that she was here. She was by no means Alessia, but she had integrated nicely into your life since they had started dating (and she hoped the upcoming move to London would only strengthen the relationship you shared).

Hopefully, the familiarity and the plan her and Alessia had made would help to pull you out of your funk.

*******

“Hey love,” Leah sent Alessia a wide smile as she approached the Friends and Family section.

The game had ended in a neat 3-1 victory and Alessia had completed her mandatory lap around the field with the team.

Normally you liked to join her, holding her hand and playing with your aunts, but you hadn’t been waiting at the rail behind the bench with Luca like usual. She noticed that you hadn’t even been in the friends and family section.

Leah wrapped her in her arms as soon as Alessia helped her down onto the field. “Your goal was fantastic,”

“Thanks,” Alessia’s smile was half-hearted, exhaustion clear in her blue eyes as she supported the blonde who was still mom weight-bearing on her leg. “Where’s Bug?”

“Your brother disappeared with her to find a snack before halftime, and they haven’t come back yet,” Leah said, glancing in the direction the two of you had gone. “She’s having a hard time,”

Alessia followed her eyes with a sigh. “Beyond,”

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen her so sullen,”

“It’s only getting worse, I think,” Alessia ran a frustrated hand through her hair, tugging lightly on her ponytail. “I don’t know how to fix it,”

Alessia had always been an incredibly involved parent. She had raised you herself, with a little help from Luca and her parents. She wasn’t used to being away from you for the night, much less days on end.

It broke her heart each time you cried when she had to say goodbye. And it killed her how you had retreated back into yourself with each passing day.

You had even started refusing phone calls with her so she could read you your bedtime stories.

It was clear that the Fifa restrictions were taking their toll on both of you, but she felt powerless to stop it.

Even Serina hadn’t been able to get her an exception.

Leah caught her hand, pulling it to her chest and drawing all of Alessia's attention back to her. The striker met the defender’s eyes, and warmth leached into her chest. It was something bright and safe.

It was the thing that had made Alessia fall in love with her to begin with. The thing that had allowed your mama to feel comfortable enough with Leah to introduce her to you.

“We’ll figure it out together,” Leah said, her voice sure and soothing. It made Alessia believe her. “I’m here to help,”

Alessia let out a shaky breath. “I don’t like being away from her,”

Leah pulled her closer, and she buried her face in Leah’s neck much like you did. “I know. We’ve only got one more game, and then we will be bringing the World Cup home,”

“Three more days, and then the FIFA rules don’t apply,” Alessia agreed, letting Leah’s words calm her. “We can make it 3 more days,”

“We can make it 3 more days,” Leah said, kissing Alessia’s forehead, just as Luca appeared with you at the top of the stairs. “Between Me, you, and Luca, she’ll make it 3 more days too,”

Alessia pulled away, glancing up the stairs. Her breath caught again when she saw you, clutching Squirt, a dark blue stuffed octopus and her brother for dear life at the top of the stairs.

You didn’t look out from your hiding place in his chest as she carefully made his way towards them.

She pulled away from Leah when he got to the rail, making sure she was stable on her crutches before reaching for you.

“Hey cuddle bug,” She sent you a blinding smile, reaching out for you. “Do you want to come down to the field?”

You peeked out at her as if you were contemplating the decision. You had never not willingly gone to her before.

It took you a long second before you shook your head and tucked yourself back into Luca’s chest. “No like it,”

Her shoulders drooped, and she had to fight to keep the corners of her lips from turning down. “Alright,”

It was like a dagger in her chest, deflating her and sending a sinking feeling through her stomach. It was a feeling of total failure.

She had failed you, and you didn’t want to go to her.

It was like an invisible wall of glass had erupted between you. Like there was a barrier she didn’t know how to pass keeping you from her. It was like she was the polar bear in the zoo that you had been too terrified to look at.

Leah rubbed her back, and Luca bounced you lightly, sending her a sympathetic look.

They just had to make it 3 more days.

She just hoped you could both hold on that long.

#woso x reader #woso imagines #alessia russo x reader #alessia russo imagine #alessia russo x leah williamson x reader #leah williamson x reader #big emotions universe

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uzurakis · 8 months ago

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MASTERLIST!

ⓘ if my writing hasn’t been linked, that means it’s queued and will be linked after it’s been posted. REBLOGS ARE HIGHLY APPRECIATED <3

if you’re interested to request something after reading my works, make sure to read my rules FIRST then go to my inbox. thank you ^^

i also indulge in your brainrots over the asks you’ve sent and it’s under the #.entries tag! (just click the bold text)

credits to @uzurakis on tumblr. do not steal/copy/plagiarize/modify/translate any of my works on any platforms!

JUJUTSU KAISEN

001. headcanons

how they like to hold you close

reactions to your first kiss for ‘em

their act of intimacy

their act of intimacy pt. 2

falling into arguments

falling into arguments pt. 2

dozing off on your shoulder

dozing off on your shoulder pt. 2

stalker in sight

someone calls you cute in public

their endearment for you

hiding your injuries

you want to break up

too pretty to be true

being clingy with them

reactions to your ugly makeup prank

their friend also likes you

throwing away your engagement ring

falling out of love

tiktok prank to shut you up gone wrong

they don’t like you being clingy

waiting for you to wake up

stubble-trouble

dealing with a broken heart

they don’t want you to get hurt

damn, keep it down (NSFW)

nasty over the phone (NSFW)

nearly caught in the act (NSFW)

sucking it right (NSFW)

002. drabbles

accidentals — fushiguro megumi

shikigami favor — fushiguro megumi

reserved — fushiguro megumi

contemplations — fushiguro megumi

irrational — fushiguro megumi

night rituals — itadori yuuji

gone — yuuta okkotsu

open the door — gojo satoru

preoccupied — gojo satoru (NSFW)

alcohol — geto suguru

confined — geto suguru (NSFW)

BLUE LOCK

001. headcanons

their endearment for you

teaching you soccer

someone’s hitting on you

002. drabbles

attention — nagi seishiro

jersey — itoshi sae

missing you — itoshi rin

greasy — itoshi rin

endearments — itoshi rin

name — michael kaiser

jersey — michael kaiser

tattoo kisses — michael kaiser

SAKAMOTO DAYS

001. headcanons

being in a relationship with nagumo

being clingy with them

002. drabbles

whaaaaaat? — seba natsuki

riddles — yoichi nagumo

dinner — seba natsuki (NSFW)

#.navi #.writing #.entries

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justauthoring · 2 years ago

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BLUE LOCK - COMING TO HIS GAME FOR THE FIRST TIME!

includes: bachira meguru, nagi seishiro, itoshi rin all x fem!reader

a/n: ill tell you what i cannot decide on a theme format to save my life :P

BACHIRA MEGURU:

He’s been asking you for a while.

It wasn’t that you didn’t want to go, but the timing had just never lined up.

Of course Bachira has never been anything but understanding; if there’s anyone who can understand how busy schedules can get, it’s him.

So, he’s never gotten mad or ever held it against you but you also aren’t oblivious to the way his shoulders deflate every time you have to tell him you can’t make it.

The hopeful light in his eyes washes away instantly and the forced smile on his lips does little to make you feel any less guilty -- even if rationally you knew it wasn’t your fault, you didn’t like making Bachira upset.

So, when it turned out his next game matched up with a day off, you were ecstatic.

Except, you wanted to surprise him and so when he asked you, you said no again, this time regarding his frown and disappointment with excitement blooming in your chest in anticipation for how he’d look when you’d in fact be there, in the stands, cheering for him.

With Isagi’s help you’re able to borrow his extra jersey, making sure to wear it loud and proud when you make your way to the stands. Isagi had helped you get a seat nice and close to front, a spot that would be easy for Bachira to spot even in the midst of playing, surrounded by others, in a large field.

He’d see you.

And the second he walks out onto the field, mindlessly chatting to Isagi and Nagi, the former nudges his shoulder lightly before gesturing ahead of himself.

Bachira’s eyes lock onto you almost instantly.

It takes him no time whatsoever and the second he does, there’s a beaming smile curling onto his lips that practically lit up the whole arena. You can see the twinkle in his eyes as you move to your feet, waving your hands wildly and jumping up and down to make sure he can see you even if it’s already obvious he can.

Nagi teases him but Bachira hardly minds -- the sight of you at one of his games is something he’s been dreaming about for months and with the added fact that you’re wearing his jersey?

Bachira’s so happy he feels like nothing can stop him.

That point is further proved when he scores three goals all on his own, winning the game with his last goal.

He’s practically on fire.

Not a single person is able to stop Bachira that day, and every time he looks out into the crowd to find you, wearing his jersey and screaming his name -- his passion is renewed tenfold.

After that, you make sure to go to every single one of his games you possibly can, always clad in his jersey and screaming his name at the top of your lungs.

NAGI SEISHIRO:

He’s never really asked.

It wasn’t that he didn’t want you to come or thinks that you didn’t either, but he also felt like it’d be a hassle to ask and even more of one for you to go out of your way to come.

Nagi knows your busy and he doesn’t want to pressure you, so he just never asks.

But you’ve been waiting for him to ask.

At first you’d thought he was just shy or maybe uncomfortable with it, so you’d just left it alone, thinking that he’d eventually gather up the courage to ask you, especially when your guys’ relationship started to develop and turn more serious.

Then, when he still hadn’t asked months into your relationship, you tried dropping subtle comments -- dropping hints here and there with the intention to show to him you were curious on going.

You knew how big of a deal soccer was to Nagi, even if he tried to say otherwise. It was hard for Nagi to be passionate in anything so the effort and dedication he puts into his career is enough to know that he clearly cares, and you want him to share that with you.

You want to be there for him. Want to watch him do something he clearly loves so much.

It takes a year into your relationship for you to say something.

“Why don’t you want me to go to one of your games?”

Nagi? Confused.

“Huh?”

Turns out it was one big misunderstanding.

Once you learn it wasn’t that Nagi didn’t want you to come and rather he just didn’t want to be a hassle, and Nagi learned that you very much did want to go and it wouldn’t be a hassle at all -- the solution was easy.

He gets you a seat up close, almost secluded off to yourself and close enough to be able to watch Nagi easily the entire game.

He wants to say he’s embarrassed when you come adorned in his jersey and his number painted on your face, but he’d be lying if he said he was (even as his teammates tease him about it endlessly).

Truthfully, it makes his heart flutter and his chest feel tight at the fact that you’d put so much effort into coming to his game and making sure everyone knew who you were there for.

After that, Nagi practically drags you to every one of his games.

Doesn’t give you an option in it either. You’re coming.

Makes sure to point you out to his teammates even though they all know who you are.

“Y/N’s here, see? She’s the one in my jersey.”

“Yes, Nagi. I literally said hi to her earlier.”

Needless to say, Nagi loves having you there.

ITOSHI RIN:

Simply doesn’t think he needs you there.

If you came, he wouldn’t care and the fact that you don’t, he doesn’t care either.

Or so he thinks.

You know Rin well enough to know this so you don’t press it either way.

Rin likes to have his space and you’re happy enough to give it to him; you get to hear him talk about games afterwards anyways and it makes you happy that he chooses to share that part of his life with you so you just let things be.

Until a friend of yours mentions that she’s going to a game and has an extra ticket and “oh. Doesn’t your boyfriend play for T/N as well?”

So you join her.

Rin doesn’t even notice you until half way through the game when he receives a rather harsh shove from a teammate telling him he swears he just saw you in the stands.

He goes to deny it until he turns his head and sure enough, there you are in the midst of the crowd. You’re close enough to Rin to spot, but you’re in the midst of the stands, leaned over slightly as your friends whispers something into your ear.

You meet his eyes in the next second, offering a nervous smile and a wave.

Rin can’t explain it, he really can’t make senses of it--he’d always thought he didn’t really care about you being at one of his games. That, while he loved you, you’d be a distraction that he didn’t need.

But seeing you there? Knowing you’re watching him?

It feels like all he can feel is your eyes on him, even amongst the hundreds in the crowd, on him all game; following his every move, watching him. He can hear you cheering for him when he makes a goal or an impressive tactic.

It enlightens something in him he hadn’t thought possible.

It isn’t just that you helped him do better -- that having you there made him play better. It was just the fact that you were there, watching him doing something he loved and was so so passionate about; cheering for him, simply there for him.

It’s a feeling Rin hadn’t thought he was capable of, but it isn’t something he wants to lose.

So next time there’s a game, he approaches you, a ticket in hand and his extra jersey in the other.

“I want you to come to my game... w-wearing this.”

You don’t hesitate to say yes, and that makes Rin’s heart flutter in a way he hadn’t thought possible.

Now he doesn’t even have to ask -- every time he has a game approaching, it’s a known fact and a wordless affair as he hands you a ticket and you beam up at him, all bright eyed and cheery saying you can’t wait.

#bllk #bllk x reader #blue lock #blue lock x reader #blue lock imagine #bachira meguru #bachira meguru x reader #nagi seishiro #nagi seishiro x reader #itoshi rin #itoshi rin x reader

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nataliescatorccioapologist · 3 months ago

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A Travis Martinez Deep Dive/Character Analysis

Let’s talk about one of the most (if not the most) controversial characters in Yellowjackets! I definitely feel like many of Travis’ scenes and actions are misunderstood, so let’s dive in to his character and understand why he does what he does.

General Information

Travis Martinez is portrayed by Kevin Alves. He is described as being 16 years-old in the first drafts of the scripts, although it is unclear if he is still 16 in the final product or if he was aged up to 17 like the rest of the main cast in the teen timeline. His introduction in the script describes him as “lanky, sullen, teetering on the awkward, hormonal edge of impending hotness, a sensitive kid doing his absolute damndest to pretend he doesn’t care about anything.”

Travis attends Wiskayok High School in the (fictional) town of Wiskayok, New Jersey. His family consists of his father, Bill Martinez (who is the head coach of the Yellowjackets girls soccer team at WHS), his mother, and his little brother, Javi.

Relationship with His Family

We get a very brief glimpse into Travis’ home life before the crash in the Pilot episode, but it does give us a few hints of the conflicts present in his family. We see that Travis’ parents seem to have a distant relationship, with Travis’ father attempting to give his mother a kiss goodbye and her initially being resistant to it, but giving in only when she sees Travis watching. Travis rolls his eyes at this interaction, telling us it’s a common occurrence. Maybe it’s just me, but I’m definitely getting the sense that Coach Martinez has had some extramarital affairs and that Travis’ parents are only still married for the sake of keeping the family together.

Travis confesses to Nat that Coach Martinez was “a shit dad” and that he “didn’t even like” Travis. I think, at least in Travis’ mind, he has never been good enough to measure up to his father’s expectations. We get to see a brief sample of what Coach Martinez's parenting style may have been like in his scene with Jackie, in which his version of a "pep talk" is telling Jackie all of the ways in which the other girls on the team are better than her. I have a feeling Travis' dad often took the same approach with Travis; a gruff, "tough-love" demeanor that only resulted in a deep sense of inadequacy.

This dynamic has affected Travis' relationship with Javi, as well. My interpretation of their relationship is that, while Travis does deeply love and care for Javi, he also harbors some resentment towards him for receiving more softness and support from their father. This resentment only grows when the plane crashes and Travis is left completely responsible for Javi. He's feeling the pressure of having to be an example of masculinity for Javi and his new role as a father figure for Javi, all while dealing with the grief of his father's death. He's overwhelmed and afraid, and therefore he takes this out on Javi, which we can see particularly in the scene where he makes Javi spit out the gum their father gave him.

Travis is likely replicating the harsh parenting style of their father with Javi; it's all he knows. But, underneath, Travis loves Javi; enough to put himself through the trauma of digging up his father's corpse to get a ring for him and to trek through miles of snow in sub zero temperatures for months looking for him after he runs away.

This is why it is so, so heartbreaking when Travis loses Javi just as he's learning to show how much he loves him. My heart breaks at the thought that Travis will have to come back home and tell his mother that his father and little brother are dead.

Toxic Masculinity

It’s no secret that Travis is deeply, deeply insecure. And, as is the case with many young men, this insecurity manifests itself through sexism, unhealthy stoicism, hostility, and anger. It is important to remember that Travis is a teenager in the 90s, a time in which the sexualization of women in media was rampant. The Third Wave of feminism was underway, and with it came an increase of misogyny and backlash from men. Sexist jokes and comments were the norm, and Travis was likely surrounded by them in high school. As a result, we hear him call the girls "idiots," we hear him compare them to girls in porn magazines, we hear him tell Nat she should stick to "folding laundry" and "sucking ___" (we all know how that sentence was going to end). There's no true excuse for it, it's abhorrent behavior and it's unacceptable no matter what time period this is.

However, if we look into Travis' past, we can definitely find an explanation. Much of Travis' behavior can be drawn back to his insecurity and feeling that he is not good enough. We know he was bullied throughout high school as a result of Bobby Farleigh's "Flex" comment and we know that he feels like his father never really liked him; that he never felt good enough for him. Another aspect of Travis' insecurity can also be linked back to the idea of masculinity that has been fed to him by society: the strong, macho, stoic ideal. And it's clear (especially in Season 2) that Travis just does not fit this ideal. He's soft and sensitive, and because this goes directly against what he thinks he should be, he feels shame and embarrassment in himself.

And what do men do when they feel shame, insecurity, and/or sadness? They lash out. Men aren't allowed to show vulnerability, so they instead replace it with a more acceptable emotion: anger. And we definitely see this in the way that Travis lashes out at the people around him. And to make matters worse, Travis is one of the only men out there in the wilderness, making him feel even more pressure to be the strong masculine figure society expects him to be.

Reaction to Trauma

The pressure Travis feels to be "manly" bleeds into his response to trauma, as well. Travis has just watched his father die in a brutal and gruesome manner right before his eyes, and now he's out in the middle of nowhere with a bunch of teenage girls and a little brother to take care of. Most people would break down and cry.

Travis, on the other hand, is strangely apathetic. His only expression of emotion is anger. He snaps at Nat when she suggests that he help his brother, he yells at Javi and forces him to spit out the gum that is his only connection left to his father, he steals food from the others and blatantly insults them, and he essentially tells Javi to "get over it." Travis' coping mechanisms are clear: he distracts his grief with anger and he pushes away anyone that could possibly offer him support.

We see this again with another very significant trauma Travis endures: his sexual assault the night of Doomcoming. Travis is sexually assaulted by an entire group of girls, he clearly begs for them to stop (and they don't), and then he runs for his life and is almost killed. No one ever acknowledges this trauma and the next morning Travis is back to his usual ways, snapping at Natalie when she tries to emotionally support him and attempting to hurt her feelings to get her to stay away from him.

But it's clear, in both of these instances, that, underneath, Travis does care, and he is hurting. Despite him yelling at Javi, he wants to get his father's ring to make it up to him and support him. And when Nat doesn't budge and insists on helping him, Travis breaks down sobbing and admits that he "didn't want to" and that he is in love with her. (And in the script he even says that he wishes that Shauna had killed him that night, that's how strong his pain and shame are after Doomcoming!) Travis' hostile and abrasive behaviors are really a front he puts on to avoid being vulnerable, letting people in, and admitting to himself that he's struggling.

Relationship with Nat

Given Travis' tendency to push people away and hide his vulnerability, it’s not surprising that he forms a romantic connection with someone who mirrors his response to trauma: Natalie.

Their relationship starts off on shaky ground, marked by Travis' initial misogynistic remarks and even an incident where he points a loaded gun at Natalie. Despite this, Natalie is the only person who seems able to see through Travis' anger. Her own experiences with trauma—particularly the loss of her father—give her a deep understanding of what Travis is going through. Like him, she has developed a habit of distancing herself from others, driven by the pain of watching her father die and the lingering guilt of feeling responsible for his death.

This shared trauma—witnessing their fathers’ deaths and carrying the weight of guilt—creates the foundation of their connection. One pivotal moment that cements this bond is the scene where Natalie makes her first kill. Kevin Alves has explained that when Natalie and Travis kneel beside the dying deer and exchange a knowing look, it symbolizes the shared grief they both carry. In this moment, they are not just mourning the animal but, more profoundly, mourning their fathers together.

This scene serves as the emotional cornerstone of their relationship, which stretches over the next 25 years. Both Natalie and Travis are driven by guilt, shame, and self-loathing, and they both struggle with showing vulnerability. They have a pattern of pushing people away before anyone can get too close—a tragic cycle that defines their bond. They are trauma bonded and similar in all of the worst ways, which is what makes them so codependent and enmeshed, as they believe that no one else will ever understand them the way they understand each other.

Of course, Travis’ insecurity finds its way into his relationship with Nat, too. When Nat and Travis discuss having sex for the first time, Travis infamously asks Nat how many guys she has slept with. Nat immediately bristles, thinking that Travis is implying that she’s a “slut”, but, as the scene unfolds, we realize that Travis is actually just insecure about his own virginity in comparison with Nat’s sexual experience. He’s worried that, because of Jackie’s previous comments about Nat, sex with him won’t mean anything to Nat, whereas it would mean a lot to Travis. We can see how much relief he feels when Nat assures him that it does mean something to her, and “especially with him"; when she affirms he is good enough.

Travis’ tendency to get in his own head unfortunately makes itself known again when they actually attempt to sleep together; when Travis can’t get it up and runs out of the room. I think the script for this scene reveals a lot about what is actually going on in Travis’ head:

Travis’ feelings of inadequacy are spiraling here. He’s in awe of Nat and doesn’t feel good enough, and the pressure he’s putting on himself as a result is too much for him (and other parts of him…) to handle. As time passes in the wilderness and Travis lets go of some of his insecurity, we can see he becomes more communicative and releases some of his ego and insecurity as he discovers his spirituality (which we'll get into more in the next section).

Travis's love for Natalie is undeniable, but their relationship is inevitably toxic due to their shared trauma and self-destructive behaviors. After the crash, both turned to drug addiction as a way to numb their pain. Though they’ve tried to help each other stay clean over the years, their connection often pulls them back into destructive patterns. Every time Travis seems to be on the path to recovery, Natalie reappears, and she drags him back down with her again.

Javi’s death will create a huge, irreparable rift between them. It’s likely that Travis harbors deep resentment toward Natalie, not only for surviving when Javi didn’t but also for being a constant reminder of his lost brother. Yet, paradoxically, she is all he has left, and the thought of losing her, too, is unbearable. Despite their genuine love and care for each other, their relationship is fundamentally harmful.

Spirituality, Relationship with “The Wilderness,” and Development of a More Feminine Sense of Self

Season 2 marks a major shift in Travis’ character, and much of this is due to his newfound connection to Lottie. Travis’ desperation to find Javi makes him crave a sense of hope, and therefore makes him open to the idea of The Wilderness. Travis begins attending Lottie’s rituals, and expresses gratefulness towards her for the blood tea and reassurance that Javi is alive. As Travis becomes increasingly attached to Lottie and The Wilderness, we also see him become kinder, softer, and more vulnerable. Travis’ connection to The Wilderness allows him to release the societal norms and expectations that previously guided his toxic behaviors. He can let go of society’s idea of manhood and become a more authentic version of himself. We see that Travis has started to let himself show weakness, express emotion, and is much more open-minded and willing to consider other perspectives.

Lottie definitely becomes an important person to Travis in Season 2. I want to make something clear right now because I feel like it it very often misinterpreted. The writers have stated that Travis’ connection with Lottie is not meant to be interpreted as sexual in nature. Rather, Travis’ scenes with Lottie are meant to represent his spiritual connection with her and his need for guidance. The infamous sex scene between Natalie and Travis in which Travis has visions of Lottie present in the room is not Travis wishing Lottie was in Nat’s place, rather it is meant to represent the internal battle Travis is experiencing between his romantic love for Nat and his need for hope and spiritual belief. Lottie is being shown as a spiritual, religious figure in this scene. She’s not depicted in a sexual manner in Travis’ visions, but rather in a nurturing, holy light.

Nat and Lottie are directly opposed in this Season, with Nat representing pragmatism and Lottie representing faith. Travis is caught in the middle with his romantic connection to Nat and his faith in Lottie. While Nat tells him his brother is dead, Lottie tells him she knows he’s alive. Travis loves Nat, but it’s clear their differences in faith are creating a rift between them, and this rift is symbolized visually in their sex scene.

While Travis’ turn towards faith and spirituality does bring out a better, more likable side of him, it does, unfortunately, directly lead to his death in the adult timeline. While we likely won't get to see any more of Travis' story in the adult timeline, I am looking forward to seeing how he continues to develop in the wilderness and how his newfound spirituality and increasing disconnection with society will change him as a person.

Overall, while Travis can certainly be a deeply dislikable character at times, his development over the past two seasons has been fascinating to watch and he definitely has some hidden complexities that are starting to reveal themselves to the audience. Here's to Travis continuing to connect to his feminine side in Season 3!

#sorry this is absurdly long i just had so much to say i needed to yap about this insecure little man so badly #im going to do lottie next yall #sorry for doing a man first in this series #idk whats wrong with me #travis martinez #travis get behind me #yellowjackets #natalie scatorccio #travnat #javi martinez

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dreamermonica · 2 years ago

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jersey no. 10s + would love me if i was a worm ?

—gender neutral reader, established relationships, fluff, some crack, just silly banters with them, lots of teasing from reader, and kaiser ig on his part🪰

RIN side-eyes you. it's in the middle of a horror movie marathon when you ask him that question, effectively pulling him out of his focus on the show as he attempts to process your strange inquiry.

it's obvious from the way that he doesn't immediately call your question dumb or stupid that he's already used to these type of conversations. a perk of being surrounded by weirdos perhaps? anyway, it still doesn't refrain him from raising a brow at the abruptness of your out-of-the-blue query.

within a short moment of contemplation, he blinks away from your expectant expression back to the screen. you visibly deflate at his nonchalance.

“no.” bluntly does he say. you blink.

“so you don't love me for me?”

“i simply don't see myself loving a worm. it doesn't matter if it's you or not.”

he deliberately ignores the piercing and offended stare on the side of his face.

“so unfair! i would love you if you were a worm!” you whine as you shake his arm.

“doubt it.” he leans back further onto the couch to eye you again from his periphery, momentarily pausing the movie to apprehend your whining. “if i were ever to become a worm, I'd kill myself. i can't become the world's best striker with no limbs.”

“still thinking about football 'till now? jackass.” you playfully pout before turning back to the screen again. he quietly resumes the movie with a thoughtful nod. as a jumpscare comes up and you huddle to his side in surprise, you think the discussion is dropped entirely until he speaks up once more.

“there's that and,”

he suddenly leans close to your ear, arm skillfully placed on the backrest of the couch to wrap you in, your eyes widening when you feel his breath fanning on the side of your face.

it's barely above a whisper when he says it,

“—the fact i wouldn't be able to spend nights like these with you.”

...huh?

oh my. you must've been hearing things—because the next thing you know is that a pillow is roughly thrown onto your face.

SAE resolves the weird question with a playful pinch to your cheeks. he deals with enough dumbassery (shidou) already to even think of entertaining your question, but god, your squished face and cheeks look really adorable right now, so he'll humor you for a bit.

“ow, ow, ow...”

“maybe. maybe not.” his stare remains blank and bored as your face scrunches in pain with the faint stinging on your cheek. upon seeing your discomfort, he immediately drops his hands, stuffing them in his pockets, “depends if we're both worms or not.”

humming as you soothingly rub your cheeks mindlessly, you stick out a tongue at him. “how about only me as a worm with my face on it?”

he glowers at the thought, “creepy. don't push it.”

“then me as a normal worm...?”

“i'd feed you to shidou. he'd treat you well.”

you sigh depressingly at the thought of swimming in that soccer demon's stomach acid. “no getting through you, huh. would it kill you to be sappy for once...?”

“if we were both worms, then yes, i'd love you. happy now?”

“hooray!”

he deliberately pushes your face away from his line of sight, scowling as you try to kiss him with your lips exaggeratedly puckered much to his dismay, “who the hell cheers like that? weirdo.”

“your weirdo.”

you send him a wink, a half-assed attempt at rizzing him up and yet he thought he’d explode right then and there. his expression stays indifferent though. no way he’s exposing himself like that.

“yeah. only mine.” the taste of victory is sweet on his tongue as he watches you turn red at his words.

KAISER...oh, kaiser.

in his case, it's the other way around.

you are the one getting pestered to answer his strange question instead. courtesy of his greed for your attention. gotta thank the heavens above when you decide to entertain his antics instead of strangling him.

“what brought this question forth?” you stare at him in boredom, sinking into the comfy confines of the couch he's leaning over at to smile at you dopily. you resist the urge to kiss his face right then and there.

“nothing~ just trying to see if you're only after my body or not.”

“...but i'm not into worms—”

“it's me! as a worm! the handsome and prodigal michael kaiser!” he pushes, feigning hurt as he dramatically places a hand to his chest. “why are you doubting me? i can't believe my darling out of all people would do this to me.”

you hum for a while as your gaze moves up to the ceiling, paying no mind whatsoever to the sob story he's fabricating to garner your sympathy as well. you press a finger to your lips curiously, “would the worm version of you keep your toned body and beautiful golden hair?”

“uh...good question—wait, you are after my body!”

“yes. is that a problem?” you can't help the smug look that crosses your face upon seeing kaiser's offended reaction, to which immediately turns into a scowl as he leans closer towards your face.

“what,” your hand raises to graze against his cheek, trailing down to his neck as you caress his iconic blue rose tattoo. “can't take a little joke, mihya?”

he stiffens at your touch, eyes widening for a moment, before he ultimately resigns himself to a heavy sigh of defeat, maneuvering his hand to grasp your wandering fingers over his collarbone, stopping your advances as he pouts playfully.

“this is why i like my side chicks better.”

“hah? repeat that again you little—”

“can't take a little joke, mein liebling?”

taken aback, you glare at him. he winks back.

forcibly given a taste of your own medicine, you huff outwardly and opt to push his stupidly handsome face away from your sight before it angers you any further. a sense of clarity already being gained when he is no longer is in your peripherals.

“go talk to them if they're so much better than me then.”

“oh, cmon.”

this was collecting dust for months in my drafts take it as u may , i might be more active soon✧⁠◝⁠(⁠⁰⁠▿⁠⁰⁠)⁠◜⁠✧

#sae x reader #bllk x reader #blue lock x reader #bllk x you #blue lock x you #itoshi rin x reader #itoshi sae x reader #kaiser x reader #michael kaiser x reader #rin x reader #bllk x y/n #har❗fiction

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kaisaerinlover · 2 months ago

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prize - sae itoshi

tw: kinda dark but not like my other stuff kinda dubious consent i guess

why are you even here? you have no idea, you don’t even remember how you got here, you don’t even know what’s going on, all you know is you’re some possession now, how could you know what’s going on anyway? no one filled you in, you just remember being led to the dorm room of someone, someone who you don’t even know, and left to sit on the bed. unfortunately for you that someone is sae itoshi. he won you, you think, you think that’s what’s happening. are you seriously being used as some motivational prize for a bunch of soccer players? this is seriously sick. you only know his name because there’s a jersey hung up on the closet handle that says it. you’ve been left alone in the room for what seems like an eternity, yearning for someone to come in and extinguish the loneliness, but the moment you see him enter, you instantly regret that wish.

sae walks in the room with someone behind him, a manager you think, and simply looks you up and down. his face is so empty, he’s unreadable. “is this her?” he looks at the older man behind him. “yes that’s her, she’s…” you zone out after that, they’re talking about you like you aren’t even there? like you’re some pet? you can’t even listen to their words anymore, you’re so horrified at the current predicament. you’re snapped out of it when the sound of the door closing echoes ever so slightly throughout the room. when you look up, you see the redhead towering over you, looking down at you. you feel even more self conscious than before and shift awkwardly.

“do you know why you’re here?” he bluntly asks, looking disinterested. you shake your head no, because you genuinely don’t, maybe your initial assumption was wrong and it’s just a big misunderstanding and maybe- “because you’re my prize now, understand” you wished too soon. what kind of misunderstanding would this have been anyway? stupid girl. you don’t do anything in response, you can’t even bring yourself to nod because you feel so tense. what does being a prize entail anyways? prizes are usually a fancy looking trophy sitting on a shelf, or a medal wrapped around the neck of some athlete, or maybe a money prize, maybe some stuffed animal, maybe an autograph. prizes are material possession usually, so why are you labelled as such a thing now? you were a normal person before this, so why? how can you even know what to expect when this is so… so… abnormal???

“what does- what- what’s a prize- what’s going to happen to me-“ you sputter over your words in anxiety. the prodigy in front of you simply stares at you and shrugs lightly. “anything i want” that doesn’t help soothe your nerves at all, actually it just made it worse. you’re so panicked you haven’t had any coherent thoughts since meeting the stranger, you didn’t even consider you were completely at his mercy. now you’re even more stressed. he notices it of course, how could he not? he finds it cute, like you’re some small animal freaking out over a predator looming over them, a cute bunny, or mouse. he doesn’t say that out loud though, he doesn’t so much as show it, fuck, he doesn’t say anything. his silence is so… eerie. he’s a unique guy, isn’t he?

what’s this guy’s deal anyway? he hasn’t shown a single emotion except indifference since walking through that door. he’s- suddenly a hand extends, touching your head and your face, the way you would touch some doll, or some sort of pet. it’s the first time he touched you. he’s examining you, you think, you can’t know for sure, usually you can tell people’s motives or even just a fraction of their thoughts from their facial expressions, this guy is just stuck on bored expression number 4 all the time clearly. you don’t protest though, you know better somehow, despite barely knowing him. “cute” he mumbles, having pulled his arm away from you and simply looking down at you now.

he’s weird, very weird. is probably what you would have observed about him in a normal setting. unfortunately you’re here as some sick prize for performing well in football matches. you had a life before this, don’t these people consider that?! what will your friends think, or family, or employer, or teachers, or anything? well, they never really cared that much did they, sweet girl? you’re just realising that now. you were never much of anything, nothing special, but nothing too weird worthy of getting picked on. did you even have friends? you never really talked to anyone. and now you’re paying the price for it, social connections are important, who’s going to notice you’re missing now? seriously, you went through life with the punishment of being a complete loner, and now you wound up here as well. does it get any easier ever? sae’s voice snaps you out of your slowly increasing nihilistic moment of realisation. “i had a long day today” he looks at you expectantly. you’re confused, does he want something? a massage? sexual gratification? are you supposed to know? you’re looking at him, head tilted to the side, hair sitting on your shoulders ever so cutely, god, he could ravage you here. you have those big innocent eyes he loves so much, you look so so clueless. very endearing. he locks his eyes on yours again as you answer him in an ever so small voice “o-okay-“ you manage to sputter out. seriously, what can you even say?

your dumbness is cute, to sae at least. he’s not even sure you know who he is, honestly. he hopes you do, but not knowing also comes with its share of benefits. he thought you would take the hint though, isn’t it obvious? can’t you just help him destress after a long day? unfortunately to sae, empathy is not his strong suit, actually it’s nothing to him. he’s devoid of it. so naturally he doesn’t understand that after you get swooped from your regular life and left in a dorm room belonging to some weird, yet albeit, handsome man you’re not really thinking things through critically. it was cute at first but he wants relief now. he guides you off of his bed and pushes you down gently onto your knees, and takes your spot on his bed. you go to protest but you’re silenced by his long finger pressing against your plump lips. wow, they feel really good pressed against his finger, his finger alone. how are they going to be on his cock? crazy good, probably. really fucking good. he’s excited now. he’s not the type to care for women, or anything really, but he’s interested in you for sure by now. you’re looking up at him, you know what he’s about to make you do, but you try and delude yourself. that works for the brief few seconds of him simply admiring you before he starts sliding down his shorts and boxers. he looks down at you with what anyone would say is a bored expression. “open” and you do. you do exactly what the prodigy says. you open your mouth ever so meekly. you don’t even know why you were so quick to oblige, but you tell yourself it’s fear, because why would you even want to consider the possibility of it being anything remotely positive in a situation like this.

he’s gentle at first, for the most part. he has a hand situated on your pretty little head but he’s not pushing you. just massaging your head. playing with your hair. like a pet. maybe like the way a child shows affection to their baby dolls. he breathes heavily as he’s slowly playing with your mouth using his cock. it’s scary, you never did this before ever, it’s the first time, you would rather not tell him that out of fear of sounding like you’re protesting. it’s easy at first, too easy, you ease up a little bit. what a mistake that was, sweet thing. he gets so relentless after a while, so fucking relentless. he grips your hair with such strength your eyes actually sting from it and your mouth is stuffed with his cock. he’s fucking your mouth so brutally, but when you look up at him with blurry, tear filled eyes, he looks so beautiful. maybe if you didn’t have his cock fucking your mouth right now you would even blush at the sight. sae itoshi is gorgeous. but do you know how annoying it is to find the owner of the prize you are attractive in such a moment? you feel a vague sense of self disgust wash over you. you’re pulled from those thoughts as he fucks your mouth harder than what you thought was even possible. the day you lost your innocence truly came sooner than you thought. sae is in ecstasy right now, wow, he doesn’t care for girls at all, he doesn’t ever grant himself sexual gratification including women most of the time, so the warmth of your mouth and throat are so welcoming to him. he likes you, he thinks. you look so cute on the floor, mouth all stuffed like a little mouse or hamster, greeding for treats. he almost laughs at that, he shouldn’t compare such a thing whilst he’s fucking your mouth like this. you’re like a pretty little flower, he can tell you’re innocent. he has a good sense when it comes to these things. you’re a cute lily, or something, he doesn’t know much about flowers, but what he knows about you is he wants to pick the petals off of you 1 by 1 and reap your innocence. god, you’re so fucking cute. taking him so well.

both of you are relieved when he finally cums, for different reasons of course. you’re so glad it’s finally over, your jaw aches in a way you’ve never felt it hurt before. that’s truly the sensation of losing your purity, or a small part of it. you’re sure sae will take more soon, and he’s sure too. sae is relieved he came too, but wow. you look so nice down there on your knees, panting, tears streaming down your face, hair messed up in a manner that he’s not sure if it’s actually cute, or if he just finds YOU cute in general, but he doesn’t care and doesn’t dwell on it. you have a mouth full of his cum. gross, it tastes of salt, and the texture is as slimy as sae’s personality. he’s gross and this is gross. you go to spit it out, but you’re stopped by his hand. he’s kneeling on the floor in front of you, panting too, out of breath as much as you are (stupid bastard, you think to yourself, you’re tired from the pleasure i gave you? please). you didn’t even notice he knelt down. his index finger pushes your chin up, you know what he wants. he’s waiting expectantly for you to give in and swallow. you’re not feisty, you’re not some charismatic, strongminded girl from a series or book. you oblige. and he looks at you, still expressionless, but his eyes are telling you he’s glad you obeyed so mindlessly. he stands up and looks down at you, “good girl” he says it so effortlessly. it sounds really nice actually. your cheeks heat up at the simple praise. ah. why do you feel this way for him?

all you did is overthink since you got here, not a single coherent thought was formed, and you just became acutely aware of the ache in your whole body. your knees hurt so much, your head is aching and your back feels stiff. on cue, the oldest itoshi extends a hand out to you. should you take it? you could be like the girls in the movies, the series, the books, all of those works of fiction you’ve read countless times, heard stories of so often, you could slap his hand away and show him you’re more than some prize, heck, you aren’t a prize, you’re an individual too. you have individuality don’t you? you’re strong too, and you don’t need him. you won’t be his mindless toy. is that why you accepted his help then? he helped you stand, you are naturally a little off balance, you kneeled for quite sometime, didn’t you little trophy? you’re like a bunny caught in the wind, a small mouse, a baby animal taking its first steps, a flower succumbing to the conditions of the fall season, harsher than what it was accustomed to in the summer. that’s how sae sees you. he doesn’t play for prizes, he doesn’t play for rewards, he’s not a greedy man. he’s not looking for anything like that. but you’re the best thing he’s gotten in a long while from playing soccer so often. what a great prize you were, he wasn’t playing to get you anyway, he didn’t care, all of the other guys went crazy over the thought of winning such a prize, having their own woman to fawn over, do whatever they wanted with and face little consequences, whilst avoiding the effort of finding one too, but he didn’t care at all. but somehow, he’s glad he’s the best. he’s glad he’s the best because it brought you to him. you’re his now. you haven’t quite fully accepted it yet, but you will. you’re only resisting because you don’t want anyone to think you’re weak. or desperate. or stupid. or anything negative. but no one will think that anyway, you’re a prize now, trophies don’t need to stress about such trivial matters. your world is sae now. you can be as mindless and carefree as you want, because you don’t have any other responsibilities any more other than being a subservient little princess for sae itoshi. he knows you’re probably having an internal conflict, but he has patience. he has patience that spans for miles and miles. he could wait a decade. he’s not an angry guy, he doesn’t care at all. he’s not an anything guy really. one thing he’s pretty sure about though is that he won’t need that patience, you’ll crack. and it won’t take long. he’s happy at that fact, but he won’t show you it.

he knows his thoughts were correct when you trusted him enough to sleep in his bed the first night. you must have been really tired, huh? tired angel. sweet girl. that’s what he’s thinking. he thinks you’re all sorts of things. all positive, but all so demeaning. you’re just a possession after all, he still won you, and you’re so easy. you took no effort at all. you’re just something to be doted on, and used, not someone with a mind of their own, you aren’t equal to him. you’re more akin to… to a doll, he supposes. it’s fitting for you. he pats your head as you sleep against his chest and strokes your hair a bit. god you’re cute. yeah, you’re really his doll. being the best has never felt as good.

#blue lock #blue lock x reader #sae itoshi x reader #sae itoshi #blue lock x y/n

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aestherin · 1 year ago

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KEEP MY HEART

goal 17: kuni

There have only ever been three times you saw Scaramouche so far.

First was when you reluctantly had to watch his team's match against your brother's. He was sporting a white jersey with blue accents, representing his own university with all his glory. Though laced with tension and fatigue, his whole being still demanded attention and attraction — from you.

Second, when you met him outside your own brother's — his rival — birthday party. It was purely coincidental, how he opted to stay outside and how you were running late to the dinner. It was fate, how you both clicked despite being strangers to each other. It was all adrenaline, the reason why you accidentally gave your identity away.

And the third was today.

No more invisible strings, no more coincidences.

He was here... of his own accord.

For you.

It would've been romantic if you disregard the purpose of his visit — but still! Does he always take his friends who stay indoors to go out and see the sun? No, you don't think so.

Maybe you're a special case.

"Hey," he greeted. Scaramouche was there with his hands tucked inside his pockets, leaning against the fences surrounding your home.

'He looks so damn attractive just standing like that,' you thought.

"Hi," you smiled sheepishly.

"Let's go?"

"To where?"

"Anywhere, I guess?"

"You're the one who's taking me outside and you don't even have an itinerary?" You laughed. "How are we even going to leave?"

The man was unfazed by your bursting out. He just sighed and shook his head.

"We're commuting," Scaramouche said as if it was the most obvious thing ever. He, however, spoke again before you even had the chance to. "I have a motorbike, but I didn't want to take a risk, just in case you didn't know how to ride one."

You shrugged. "I could always learn."

Unamused, he flicked your forehead. "Stupid. Don't you ever care for yourself?"

"No need."

"What?"

"You'll do that job just fine, won't you?" You grinned at how he easily he was affected by your teasing. He wasn't flushed, no. But the way his brows furrowed, how his lips formed a thin line, and how he looked away — it was all a give-away. You have an effect on him. Somehow.

"Do you just hit on everyone you meet?"

"Oh? So you took that as me hitting on you?"

"What else would that be —" Scaramouche clicked his tongue in annoyance. "Whatever. Let's just go."

"Does your brother even know you're chatting and hanging out with me?" The boy that was sat across you uttered, having just finished sipping from his drink.

You almost choked. "Well, I would let him know if I could."

He nodded and continued sipping, but didn't bother to stop staring at you.

You looked away.

Did he really expect you would tell Kazuha about your interactions with him? If it was someone else you're crushing on, it would've been fine. You could always deal with a little teasing.

But Scaramouche? The captain of the University of Inazuma's soccer team? Rival of your brother, who was the captain of TNU's soccer team?

Kazuha would explode.

You looked back at the man.

Still staring.

"Uhh," you started off. "It's not that I'm ashamed of you or anything, it's just that..."

"Hmm?"

If the Lasso of Truth — Wonder Woman's weapon — were real, you swore you were currently binded by it. Scaramouche's expectant gaze, his slightly arched brow, and the tiny curve of his lips that he failed to hide despite his best attempt... it had the same effect on you.

It was something irresistible.

"It's just that... their image of you, in their team... let's just say, aha." You gave out an awkward chuckle. "It's not that good."

Scaramouche laughed at your words.

"Oh no, [Name]," he smirked, his tone straying away from his usual one. "Whatever would your dearest older brother do if he found out you were hanging out with a delinquent?"

"What the fuck? Scara!" You laughed.

"So? What do they say about me?"

"Rude. Arrogant. Ill-mannered."

"Ouch. But wow, that's actually fewer than I thought." He looked proud.

"Etcetera."

"Oh."

He frowned. "There's more?"

You just answered with a smile.

Your meal was filled with fun teas and hushed laughters, but it was cut short by vibrations from a phone on the table. It was Scaramouche's.

He picked the black device up, brows soon furrowing while reading the notifications he just received.

"Are you alright?" Concern grew. "What was it?"

He put his phone in his pocket. "Nothing."

You knew it had to be something.

KEEP MY HEART — scara x reader smau

previous . masterlist . next

SUMMARY — you find plenty of guys around you attractive, but there is only one you’re willing to make the first move on: the guy you first saw during your older brother’s soccer game. spoiler: he's a player from your rival university.

TAGLIST I (closed)

@kararisa @krnzysh @syriiina @unsterblich-prinz @xiaosonlybeloved @xiaomainlmao @cindywasneverhere @coquettemaiden @sunsethw4 @lunavixia @calickoh @arealistonao3 @youthingazi @zyilas @mondaymelon @yukiipc @heartswonder @st0pthatsgay @ozzierenato @astreaa-express @shewolfmiko @lovelyycherries @myaaones @countessqin @aloveablechaos @letthewindlead @lunaavity @local-blueberry-boy @luminestars @layla240 @useless-potatho @atlaszi @alatusorrow @lahsram2201 @sakiimeo @user11918163805279 @vqazx @neigesprincess @kunicrush @yoursockstinks @hotgirlshit5 @mikctp @crucnhice @apotatouwu @yuaenri @sammybeefangirls @miko1ly @deffenferofjustice @etherisy @sagegreenthinks

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wttcsms · 6 months ago

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rensuke kunigami who is the greatest big brother ever. he adores his sisters, and so when his younger sister is crying and upset because she's gotten sick on the day of her vip meet 'n greet with her favorite idol of all time, kunigami doesn't hesitate to step in and fulfill his brotherly duties. granted, he's now a famous soccer player, and mindful of what his appearance at a meet 'n greet for a pretty solo idol might imply, he wears a hoodie and sunglasses — looking absolutely shady as fuck.

you, however, are both well-prepared (and used to) dealing with total creeps, and your smile never falters as you beam up at him and treat him with nothing but kindness. there's something genuinely sincere in your upbeat attitude, and you laugh as he scrambles to mumble out that he's here for his sister and that it's his sister that wants all this merch signed by you. you're a good sport, only teasing him just a bit, before giving him a bunch of exclusive photo cards.

"and this one is for you! not your sister, okay?" you shoot him a flirty wink, and for the first time in a long time, kunigami feels almost like his old self again; the one who smiled a bit easier, the one without all the building pressure that makes him feel like he's seconds from exploding. and then you make his heart stop when you also slide a friendship bracelet onto his wrist. hours afterwards, he'll still feel the ghost of your fingertips gently gliding across his skin.

you don't think too much about the mysterious man who claims to have a sister, but you do find it kinda cute that he would lie about something like that. it's not until a week later, when you turn on your tv to a random channel and land on the sports station, that you see it: it's a feature of soccer players warming up on the field, but standing out against the jerseys and cleats and turf of the field is a flash of pink beads and gold star charms. it's the special friendship bracelets you make, and each design is unique so you remember who you gave it to.

and the bracelet you see on tv? it belongs to pro soccer player rensuke kunigami, who is conveniently not wearing sunglasses and a gray hoodie. that's not the problem, though.

if you noticed this, then your obsessed fans will notice it too.

oh shit.

#rensuke kunigami x reader #wttcsms speed concepts #HAHAHAHAHA this was a fun one to come up with!!!#I luv kunigami I just never know what to write for him!

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hiddenzev · 1 month ago

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Take A Shot : Chapter 1 [ Kick Off ]

Pairing: Joel Miller x soccer player f!reader

Chapter Summary: You return to your hometown where your history with Joel started.

Chapter Warnings --- no beta, fluff, light angst, Idiots in Love, childhood friends

WC: 7.7k

series masterlist, AO3

A/N: Finally another fic is out! I've been busyyy and I know this is not going to be a consistent updating as my previous fic but I will try my best because this was more fun to write. Also, my favourite football (soccer) team is not performing well since a few weeks ago and it's been depressing yall...im not okay...fuckkk Hope yall enjoy this one even tho yall may not be soccer fans.

— May 2024 —

"Dad! Let's go!"

9-year-old Sarah stood by the truck, waiting for her dad to get out of the house. She tapped her foot restlessly, annoyed that Joel was taking longer than expected to get ready to go. She was excited to watch her favourite soccer team, Austin Violet Football Club, play the first game of the new season. She was dressed in the home jersey and shorts, pairing them with the team's scarf around her neck, hair styled as space buns with the help of Joel. The club director invited her to watch the game after signing a 2-year contract for the Austin Violet Football Academy—a part of the Austin Violet FC consisting of both men and women.

Sarah was an aspiring soccer player. She fell in love with the game at 6, when her great-grandmother played it on TV while she was babysitting her. Since then, she had been going on and on about soccer, and Joel signed her up for a youth soccer club nearby that honed her soccer skills to be selected for Austin Violet Football Academy. It was the most ecstatic she had ever felt in her 9 years of a lifetime when Joel told her that she was selected to join the youth academy. Nothing could compare to the endearment in his heart when he witnessed Sarah explode with joy.

"The game ain't going nowhere, baby girl. We still got time." Joel said over his shoulder as he locked the door.

Sarah groaned loudly, exasperated, seeing her dad taking the whole time in the world as if he were doing it intentionally. Her shoulders slumped forward, the AVFC scarf around her neck swaying slightly at both ends to her movement. With keys dangling in his hand, he opened the passenger door for Sarah, and she side-eyed him before climbing into her seat, complaining under her breath. Joel sighed heavily, having to deal with her daughter's attitude again.

-----

The Violet Crown Football Stadium was almost packed with thousands of supporters from the home and away teams. Everyone was hyped with the anticipation of the first game, chanting endlessly, as loud as they could. The setting sun painted the field orange mixed with the green grass, blanketing it with warmth. The smell of summer is swaying to the beat of the surrounding air. Sarah looked around in awe, watching the fans around her cheering for the team. She could not help the smile appearing on her face as she immersed herself in the moment.

They were seated in the suites section, which was where other VIPs, players not in the squad, players' family members, or other relevant individuals were seated. The suites were at the middle level, where the game could be clearly viewed. While Sarah was busy scanning everything around her, Joel was on his phone, talking to Tommy about work.

Even though Joel was supportive of her passion for soccer, he did not take the time to be fully invested in AVFC. He knew the rules of the game and only of her favourite player at the time, Kiara King, the striker for Austin Violet women's team. He supported the team in his own way. Without Sarah's love for soccer, he would not have watched soccer but be indulged in baseball instead. There were underlying emotions and memories stuck deep inside him that he did not want to resurface again whenever soccer came to mind.

"Enough about work; Sarah must be real excited about the game," Tommy said.

"Tell me about it," Joel sighed. "She was rushing me until we got in the stadium today."

Joel turned his head to look at Sarah, whose eyes were sparkling with admiration as she watched the players walk out of the tunnel. The whole stadium roared with claps and howling cheers. It was getting harder to hear Tommy through the phone, with the loud noises filling the stadium.

"I know you don't follow the team that much but they signed a new player at the end of the summer break," Tommy updated him with the news.

"Oh, really?" Joel said in a disinterested voice as he looked down on the field. Due to the distance, he could not see the players' faces.

The display screen started to show each player of the home team while the announcer introduced them one by one, starting with the goalkeeper and slowly progressing to the attackers. The stadium erupted with cheers for each of the players that had been introduced.

"You won't believe who their new signing is," Tommy's voice sounded distorted in Joel's ear.

"I'll call you back later! I cannot hear you right now! The game is starting already. Bye!" Joel shouted into his phone before ending the call without waiting for Tommy's response.

Sarah stood in her seat, jumping up and down, shouting excitedly with the rest of the supporters while Joel stared at her lovingly. The announcer started to announce the midfielders and the name he had long forgotten blasted through the stadium speakers, catching his attention back to the screen and confirming his doubts.

There you were, waving to the crowd that welcomed you with big arms and a smile on your face. The smile that played a significant role in his childhood was now back in town. He was confused with the longing he did not expect to feel as he looked at you, guilt on his face. Suddenly, the noises around the stadium died down—muffled in his ears—the long lost memories with you that he continuously tried to lock away flooded his head. He could not erase the image of you, eyes brimming with tears as you turned to leave him 12 years ago. Out of his life. Now, you were back to haunt him.

"Dad! Look! She's wearing my number!" Sarah shook him out of his thoughts, pointing at your jersey number—20–the same as her birthdate.

What kind of a sick game is the universe playing with him, seeing the coincidence of you wearing Sarah's favourite number on your back.

-----

23 years ago, your family moved from Dallas to Austin due to your father's job, and moving into a new home brought you a lot of emotions. You were excited to live somewhere new but also sad to be unable to be with your friends anymore.

It was the first day of school. You were sitting at your table, waiting for someone to sit beside you as your table partner. The kids in the class looked wary as they came in, not knowing what to expect for the first day. A few kids had reddish eyes because they were crying and were not emotionally ready for 1st grade. You were not one of them.

Your father had already trained you to be tough from the get-go. He was teaching you soccer right when you started learning to walk. Little did you know, he did it to live his dream through yours. He was the definition of tough love. He did not go easy on you during his home training. Sometimes, losing his patience, hurling insults and hitting you, but you took everything like a champ because if not, the anger in him would be thrown toward your mom.

Growing up, you witnessed the treatment that your mom got from him. You got in between them most of the time, wrapping your body around your mom to protect her, but what can a small and frail kid like you could do compared to the tall and big figure of your father?

"Hi! I'm Joel. What's your name?"

A voice beside you brought your mind back to the classroom. You turned your head to find a boy with a smile that could light the whole classroom brighter than it already was. His hand is out towards you, expecting a handshake.

"Hi, Joel." You replied, taking his hand as you gave him your name.

"That's a pretty name," he said, his dimples on display as he smiled, which rendered you speechless. Your heart stopped for a beat at that moment, and it felt very strange because it was the first time you had felt that way, especially by a boy.

"Thank you." You thanked him with a shy smile sent his way.

From then on, the two of you were inseparable. He followed you everywhere you went, and you did not mind him at all, enjoying his company. He talked to you about everything, be it his favourite TV show, his favourite animal, or even his embarrassing moments. He was not afraid to tell you about his grandma, who was taking care of him and his baby brother once his mom left after their dad's death the previous year.

You saw his forlorn eyes as he told you the story. You empathised with the amount of hurt in his voice as you listened. In return, you confided in him about your parents. About how strict your father was towards you and how it pained you to see your mother's suffering, not being able to stand up for herself.

You were surprised when he pressed himself against you, arms circling your body. He was hugging you, and you learned that it was his way of comforting not just you but himself as well.

The two of you bonded through the traumas and the amount of time you spent together during and after school. Although, most days after school, you couldn't play with him and the other neighbourhood kids due to your father's intense training sessions, he always filled you in on the things you missed. He always welcomed you like no other kid does. He did not judge you because of the circumstances that you were living in.

Even though he lived at the other end of the street, he would cycle past your house just to see how your training was going in your front yard. Your father had noticed him cycling past a couple of times, but he did not say a word; he only sent his hardened glares towards Joel, which the brave 7-year-old did not cower away from.

There were times when you got distracted by Joel, which resulted in you receiving harsh punishments for not focusing on your training. Tears formed in your eyes from the pain in your body whilst you carried on with the punishments, but that didn't stop you from secretly waving at Joel as he passed by, smiling at you.

On days without training, you joined Joel and the other kids cycling and exploring the neighbourhood. Not afraid to get dirty, you found yourself rolling around in the grass field as you looked at the boys who were playing fights or flying kites. Joel never left your side—always making sure you were taken care of, not wanting you to get in trouble with your father if you got injured while messing around.

Sometimes, he can be too much about the little things—constantly wiping dirt off your face and other parts of your body as if you are not used to it, trying to carry you when you were perfectly fine with walking, or even worse, covering your ears whenever the boys said a bad word which didn't even come close to what you have already heard from your father. You were an independent kid, so you were annoyed when Joel started to treat you like a baby, but you didn't call him out on it, knowing that was just his big brother instincts.

You shared everything about school with your mom whenever you reached home. It was the only time you could comfortably talk with her without Dad's presence in the house. She would coo when you told her about the things Joel did for you, finding it sweet that there's a kind boy out there taking care of you. You complained to her about how Joel was treating you like a baby, thinking she would take your side, but you found her laughing softly at your annoyance.

"I like Joel. He sounds like a good friend, " your mom said softly, caressing your head.

"He is." You nodded your head, looking at her with your big round eyes.

"I'm happy you found a good friend, bubba." She kisses the crown of your head, lips lingering there for a while.

"He found me first, mama." You innocently corrected her, and she just smiled to herself, hugging you tight.

-----

— June 2024 —

Players were lined up in the tunnel, getting ready to get out to the field for the match. According to the positions you play, you were standing in the middle of your team's line, shaking your limbs to rid the nerves away. Each player was allocated a child mascot to walk to the field. There was a girl around the height of your chest, standing beside you. You noticed her staring at you with admiration in her big, round eyes. You instinctively smiled as you bent down to meet her eyes.

"Hi! What's your name?" you asked her in a higher-pitched voice, similar to that you used when talking to kids.

"Sarah," She meekly replied with a bashful smile, still maintaining eye contact with you.

Her smile reminded you of someone, but you could not put a face on it. You ignored the thoughts of her looking familiar to you for some reason.

"Is this your first time being a mascot?"

"Yes," Biting her lip out of being scared.

"You don't have to be nervous, okay? You got me." You reassured her, seeing how nervous she looked.

She nodded her head slowly, trusting you with your words.

"I like your hair, Sarah. It's pretty." Pointing at her space buns as you compliment her, trying to distract her from her overwhelming feelings.

"Thank you. My dad helped me with it." Her eyes widened. She tilted her head towards you to show the work of art her father had created.

"Your dad?! Wow! He did a pretty good job." Your smile grew wider, and you adored how she was bragging about it.

The image of your father crept up in your mind. You cannot help but compare your father to hers. From just hearing that Sarah's father did her hair, you knew that he must be a wonderful dad to her. He definitely adores her so much, even to master the hairstyles for his daughter.

Meanwhile, your father was still psychologically and emotionally abusing you at 30. You were glad to be able to make it to pro, leaving the house, away from his grasp. He will call you after every game—whether your team loses or wins—he will criticise your mistakes. Not once has he said that he was happy and proud of you despite your achievements. After some time, you don't even expect or want to hear that from him. There were times you purposefully ignored his calls, but a few hours later, your mom would be calling as she sobbed, begging you to just listen to what he had to say.

After you left Austin at 18, you told your mom that you would do whatever it took to let her be free from your father. However, she insisted that she loved him too much and could not bear to leave him alone, knowing he would suffer from the fallout. You get that he is the love of her life, but it hurts so much to see the relationship infested with so much toxicity that she thinks it's better to hold on to it instead of letting go.

"Does your dad do your hair, too?" Sarah pointed at your hair, which you had braided.

"No, I did it myself. Is it nice?" You let her touch your hair as you answered her.

"It's so beautiful!" She adoringly exclaimed.

"Aw, thank you!"

You heard the shuffling of the players at the front of the line, starting to move out of the tunnel.

You held out your hand for Sarah to take. "Are you ready to make your dad proud?" You raised your eyebrows expectantly.

She nodded her head vigorously, moving along by your side. The cheering slowly got louder as you walked out, and when you finally stepped into the field, you felt Sarah's hand gripping you tighter. You placed your other hand on hers, caging her hand between both of yours to let her know that you were there with her. You know it's not easy for a kid to walk out to a full stadium that is overwhelming with shouting and cheering.

Eventually, everyone was lined up perfectly, side by side, facing the cameras. The children were standing in front of the players, and you placed your hands on Sarah's shoulders, ensuring she was okay. You noticed her looking up towards the suites section when you followed her gaze. She was probably looking at her father, you thought. However, there were so many faces everywhere that you could not search for and focus on just one person. Hell, you did not even know what her father looked like.

After shaking hands with the opponent team, Sarah and the other kids had to return to the tunnel. Before she went off, she turned to hug you.

"Thank you!" she said while her cheek was pressed in your chest. Her eyes closed as she embraced the moment. You wrapped your arms around her shoulders, swaying her from side to side.

"Well, aren't you our lucky charm? Just watch because we're gonna win this game for sure."

She grinned from ear to ear, slowly letting go of you. Ugh, it's annoying that she looked so much like someone you know, but you don't know who exactly it was.

"See you around, you lil angel" You pinched her cheeks before returning to your starting position.

Sarah must have been your lucky charm because your team won that game. Since then, she has always been in your mind whenever you stand in the tunnel before a game. She had quite an impact on you. You never figured out why she looked familiar to you until the day you met her again.

-----

Joel and Sarah were walking hand in hand through the hospital corridor, the unmistakable sterile scent present in the space weighing heavily on their shoulders. The floor was quieter than usual—visiting hours were finishing in a few hours. Sarah was still in her soccer fit from earlier training while her bag was swaying along on Joel's shoulder. Trudging into the wardroom at the end of the hall, Joel let go of Sarah's hand, who ran inside as soon as she saw her great grandma, Nana.

"Nana!" She shouted, rushing towards the bed.

"Look who it is! My bunny!" Nana excitedly opened her arms, waiting for Sarah's hug.

They stayed embracing each other for a period of time—Sarah pressed her cheek on Nana's shoulder while Nana slowly stroked the back of Sarah's head. Joel witnessed the moment that had been a usual occurrence for him recently.

The first time when he got the call from Tommy on the day Nana was admitted to the hospital, he had almost forgotten how to breathe. His stomach plummeted to the ground-hearing the trembling in Tommy's voice saying Nana could have died if he had been late to come back home from work. He did not know how he got to the hospital with Sarah when his head was clouded with worry. He carried Sarah on his back when they got out of the car and went inside as fast as possible.

It was as if someone had ripped his heart out and left him to bleed out alone when his gaze landed on Nana's lying form on the bed with tubes sticking to her body. Nana was his grandma who literally raised both of the Miller brothers—single-handedly—after her daughter left them in her care. So, to see the person who was very dear to him go through something that horrible—heart failure—altered something deep in him for a while.

It had been a week since she was admitted, and Joel was still processing that. This was the second time she had to go to the hospital because her condition seemed to worsen over time. He knew he had to prepare for the worst scenario sooner or later, but he was still in denial about it all—he didn't want to let go of his constant. In a way, he didn't want to face his abandonment issues from the women in his life—his mom, you and Talia.

"How are you, Nana?"

"Never been better." Nana gave Sarah a cheeky wink.

"I saw you on TV yesterday. I'm so proud of you, bunny." Nana leaned in to kiss Sarah on the crown of her head.

"Did you see her? She was standing with me." Sarah was elated to share her experience as a child mascot with you.

"I did! Did you talk to her?" Nana asked.

"She was so nice, Nana. I like her. I think she's my favourite player now." Sarah's eyes were dreamy as she gushed about you to her great-grandma.

"C'mon now, you change your favourite player every month." Nana's voice was flat as she rolled her eyes jokingly at Sarah

"No I don't," Sarah argued, lying through her teeth. Nana was speaking the truth. Sarah changed her favourite player almost every month according to her mood, but this time it was different. To be physically in the presence of the team and the good impression that you made on her struck a chord in her to choose you as her number one player no matter what.

"Whatever you say, bunny."

Joel was already sitting beside the bed, listening to his daughter talk about his childhood best friend. For the past 12 years, he had reflected on what had happened throughout high school. It was a terrible experience for him when he looked back on it—chasing popularity, peer pressure, toxic masculinity, and, for the worst part, leaving you alone in your misery when you needed him the most. His apology was long overdue, and he thought he had already lost the chance to speak to you until you returned.

"Can I tell you a secret?" Nana lowered her voice, which made Sarah lean in slightly, curious about the secret. "I've met her as a kid before." This fact made Sarah part her lips in shock, and her eyebrows shot up fast to her forehead.

"Really?" Sarah's voice was barely louder than a whisper while she stared at Nana.

"Nana—"Joel spoke for the first time to interrupt Nana. He was slightly afraid to let his past and current life crash, not knowing how to handle it if it came to light.

"She is a friend of your father." Nana ignored his warning and continued to tell Sarah the facts about the past.

"She is? You didn't tell me." Sarah swiftly turned around to Joel, furrowing her brows, feeling slightly betrayed that her father had known you personally all this while and kept it a secret.

Joel gave Nana an annoyed look, disappointed that she told Sarah about his connection with you. His jaw tensed before he opened his mouth to explain himself.

"That was a long time ago. We are not friends anymore." That was the best he could say, and he could tell from Nana's expression that she was disappointed in him as she recalled the time she had heard what had happened to you.

"What happened?" Sarah questioned him, paying full attention to him, hearing the story for the first time.

"She left Austin to play professional soccer, and we didn't talk anymore." He shrugged his shoulders as he explained to Sarah in the simplest terms. If it was laid out on the table, the truth was that he fucked up. He did not want Sarah to know that because he wouldn't be able to handle his daughter's disappointment in him.

"Was she a nice person back then, too?" Her big round eyes were still lit with curiosity as she learned new facts about her favourite player.

Joel reminisced about the time he spent knowing you with a longing look in his face. His eyes looked out the window by the bed, absentmindedly, as your face came into his mind, hitting him with all kinds of emotions. Your petite hands were in his as the two of you walked together after school, the soft glow on your face from the warm sunlight and your hair flowing tenderly with the breeze.

"She was," he whispered. A slight curl on one side of his mouth appeared that was not unnoticed by Nana. She had been holding on to the hope that the both of you would make amends someday, and it warmed her heart that the time had finally come closer for it. She missed you a lot. You were like her granddaughter that she never had, not like her mischievous grandsons that gave her headaches. You brought a different kind of joy to her life, and when you told her that you had to leave, both of you were crying in each other's arms. She knew she did not have much time left in this world, and she hoped it wouldn’t be too late to see you again.

-----

— July 2024 —

"You know the drill, right? Just interact with the kids. Watch how they play, give them some advice, and remember to smile. The cameras will follow you around during the shoot." The team's social media manager, Emma, briefed you again as you came into the facility centre to prepare yourself for the shoot.

Filming with kids has always been your favourite. It allows you to stay in touch with your roots and serves as a reminder that there are kids who look up to you, so you have to always set a good example for them.

"I heard that their parents are here too?" You looked at Emma for confirmation.

"Yes. They are sitting in the stands. It will be a surprise appearance for them as well. After the filming, you will take pictures with the players and their families. Got it?"

"Okay, got it."

You got mic'd up while the filming crew settled everything else. Once they were set, you moved quietly to the training field where the young academy players were having a small match amongst themselves. It stroked a sense of nostalgia in you, seeing them running and kicking with their little limbs. Your heart warmed with the memories of you being in a young girl's team, dreaming of being a soccer star.

You heard some murmuring when you walked past the stands where the parents were, but your focus was fixed on the young players. Walking faster as you neared the sideline, one of the girls spotted you and squealed, causing them to stop their actions.

You continued walking towards where the coaches were standing, trying to hide the excitement on your face.

Some of them gasped, covering their mouths, not believing that the first team player had come to watch them.

"Come on, girls! Keep playing!" You clapped your hands, signalling to them to continue playing.

They looked at each other with smiles still stuck on their faces as they slowly moved their bodies again.

You shook hands with the academy team coaches and manager, who were also glad to see you. They talked to you about the players and the drills they went through, so you got the gist of how they ran things. You did a quick scan of all the players, and one of them stood up to you. That player was Sarah. It had been a few weeks since you met her, and you thought about her more than you know. You were enamoured by her innocence that you don't experience in your daily adult life. Wearing the same hairstyle, the blurry mystery face you cannot put together to match her face appeared in your head.

Sarah was playing as the right winger. You were impressed with her movements, especially for someone that young. Both of her feet were well balanced; one leg was not significantly stronger than the other, which meant that she had more of an advantage in her dribbling skills. Her focus on the ball once she got the ball controlled was unwavering, and she was not afraid to take her chances at shooting. You saw the massive potential of a player in her and hoped to see her grow as time went by.

As the game continued, you tried your best to watch the other girls, but your eyes followed Sarah. Compared to the rest, she was significantly versatile—being able to defend as well as her attacking skills. Unbeknownst to you, she was slowly gaining your heart even though you had only met her once.

After the game ended, the girls sat together for debriefing; exhaustion was evident on their faces flushed, strands of hair sticking to their sweaty faces, and eyes fixed on the grass below them. The team's manager and coaches said a few words before letting you take the stage. When it was your turn, the girls turned their heads to you as if they forgot you were there momentarily. Having their full attention, you started talking.

"What do y'all feel about the game?" You asked them.

"Bad." One of the players in the front spoke up, and you later found out that her name was Ellie.

"Why do you feel that way?" You raised an eyebrow at her, not expecting the quick acknowledgement of your question.

"Because Sarah overtook me a few times, and that means I sucked at defending today." Her eyebrows furrowed as she explained—displeased with her own mistakes.

"We all make mistakes sometimes; of course, we feel disappointed when they happen. Even a professional player—like me—makes them. But the mistake is what make us strive to be better. We reflect on it and improve from there." You explained to all of them.

"And the fact that you are aware of your own mistakes tells me that you are one step closer to being a better player than you were before." You smiled reassuringly to Ellie, liking her boldness in speaking her mind.

It's ironic that when you were around their age, you were very critical of your own performance—beating yourself up over something so small because you knew your father would never let it go. You never come around to look at things positively until you meet the other professional players—who became your good friends—during your career.

"Now, tell me what you did good in the game?" You squatted down to be at the same eye level as Ellie.

Ellie opened her mouth but closed it instantly, unable to think of an answer. Her eyes darting around, away from making eye contact with you.

"You've had a couple of good long passes to the forwards, and your tackling form is pretty great,"

"Really?" She said softly—not believing what you said.

"Absolutely! Why would I lie?" Cocking your head to the side, with one brow raised.

Her cheeks raised slightly, tugging the corners of her mouth into a small smile that she tried to hide from you.

You spent another 20 minutes answering the girls' questions—how you first started soccer, how you recovered from your bad injury, and even what boots you wore for your games. You took a group photo together before they dispersed to their parents, waiting for you to take pictures with each family.

You were already halfway done with the team when you spotted Sarah among those in the queue, and you noticed two men standing by her, but it was a quick glance before you were able to take a long look at their faces. The line of players you were taking photos with kept moving slowly as you took your time to get to know each of them properly.

Once you said goodbye to one of the girls, you saw a small figure rushing towards you in the corner of your eyes. As soon as you turned back around, you felt a pair of arms encasing your waist. You looked down and recognised the same space buns that Sarah had when she was one of the child mascots. She looked up at you, chin resting on your stomach while she portrayed a big grin. You cannot help the adoration that came into view on your face while you hugged her back.

"Hi, lil angel!"

"You remember me!" She looked with a mix of surprise and joy on her face.

"How could I forget our lucky charm with this pretty face?" Sarah stared at you with her big, round eyes sparkling with so much admiration that you almost felt guilty for being the subject of that look.

Her grip on you loosened when she turned around, gesturing for-you assumed-her family members to come closer.

"Come and say hi!" She moved away from you to let the two men near you.

Maybe it's the athlete in you that made your eyes move towards their physique first. You noticed they were both almost the same height, taller than you by a couple of inches. Their toned muscles, which were on display for you, seemed to be earned from hard labour instead of the gym. Catching you, scanning their bodies, one of them cleared their throat, making you shift your focus towards him.

He looked way younger than you—clean-shaven with curly, medium-length hair, passing his ears. You sensed that he had an easygoing and friendly demeanour when he introduced himself.

"Hey, how r' ya?" He sounded nervous but still was able to confidently reach out to shake your hand, with an unexplainable look on his face.

You returned the handshake with, "Hi, nice to meet you." You cocked your head slightly to the side, sensing the weird awkwardness coming from him.

You pulled back and looked at him for a moment before glancing at the other man who was standing beside him. You had to do a double take when your gaze landed on that man for a few seconds longer. Your heart suddenly picked up its speed from the recognition. Unexpectedly, a face vaguely reminiscent of your time back in Austin was here.

Joel fucking Miller—the reason for your happiness in Austin, but he was also the one that injected bitterness in your heart in the last few years in it.

His face was different than the one you tried to erase 12 years ago, to no avail; you didn't succeed. Time clearly had worn out his face a little bit—the clean-shaven face back then had been filled with scruffy facial hair, creases on the forehead, and noticeable crow's feet by his eyes. Even so, it only enhanced his features to be more attractive than he already was before.

Joel could not maintain eye contact with you like he used to. You noticed his tensed jaw and darting eyes towards everywhere else except you. He seemed like he wanted to hide in a hole somewhere. Seeing him not in the slightest bit happy to see you again stung you a little. You could not blame him for how he was acting, knowing how bad things were left between you.

You had long moved past it after going to therapy. As time went by, you saw things from a different perspective, in a more mature way, to understand his position at the time. You took the fact that you won't see him again and did your own healing by trying to forgive him for his immaturity back in the day on your own terms since you were not able to talk openly with him.

Now, he was standing before you, and somehow, you felt relieved to see him after all those years.

"Do you recognise me?" The younger man asked you, giving an expectant smile as he waited for you.

You turned your head back to him, still speechless from seeing Joel. He could only be that one person.

"Tommy?" You asked with one brow raised at him.

"Oh! I thought you wouldn't remember my name!" His jaw dropped, and he slowly crept up to a broad smile, a result of the fact that you remembered his name. His hands were rested on his chest from the shock.

"Of course, I remember you. It just took me awhile to recognise you because you look different," you looked at him up and down. "Look at you! You're taller than me now." You gestured at him with your palms opened, waving your hands over his grown body.

"More handsome now, am I right?" He struck a pose, hands bending upwards to point at himself with both thumbs. He sneaked a wink at you, making you jog down memory lane, remembering how his brother winked at you during your younger days.

You huffed a laugh at his boldness, "I see that you never change." You smirked at Tommy, who had just shrugged his shoulders at your remark.

Your ears perked up when you heard Sarah giggling as she watched your interaction with Tommy. For a moment, you had totally forgotten where and what you were doing while talking with Tommy. You glanced at Sarah briefly before looking at Tommy again.

"She's your daughter?" You asked Tommy.

"Ew, no." Sarah scrunched her face in a disgusted way at Tommy. Tommy rolled his eyes at Sarah; you could tell they had a slight sibling-like relationship. From the realisation of their age, you knew that Sarah could not have been Tommy's daughter.

"This is my dad!" She told you proudly as she slid her hand into Joel's.

Your eyes slowly moved up to see Joel staring at you with an unreadable gaze. You used to be able to tell what he was thinking just by looking at him, but the time apart had faded your ability to do so.

You did not know that he had a daughter. You wouldn't have known because you had cut off contact with him and the people who had wronged you after you left. After a few years, when you had moved on with the past, you were tempted to know how he was doing, but you did not bother to do anything about it, afraid of what feelings might come to the surface.

You wondered who Sarah's mom was, and guessing her age, you assumed that Talia might have been the one. Talia was the cause of your nightmare in high school. Thinking about what she did always made your blood simmer with hatred. You could forgive Joel, but Talia was that mean bitch that would take you so much longer to make peace with. With Sarah coming around, you assumed that Joel must have made her his wife, and it almost made the food that was processed in your stomach come back up your throat.

"I-I didn't know that," you tried to hide your surprise but the way your voice strained at the start was obvious to anyone. Your eyes went back and forth between him and Sarah. Finally, you could see the unmistakable similarities between them as they stood side by side.

You squatted down in front of Sarah, gazing up at her with newfound adoration. "So you're a Miller, huh?" A soft smile on your face as you stated the information that you had just learned.

"Sarah Miller," she nodded her head.

"Well, I should have asked for your last name. You looked so familiar when I saw you that time," you tilted your head as you slowly traced her face with your eyes.

"I did?" She looked up at Joel for a few seconds, and you followed her gaze. Joel was standing still, eyes darting between you and Sarah.

"I'm way prettier, though." She blurted out after turning back to you.

You involuntarily snorted, hearing her comparison with Joel. "Of course you are," you beamed at her confidence which she definitely did not inherit from her dad, "but you both have the same distracting smile."

"What does that mean?" She furrowed her brows.

"It means that you have a beautiful smile, just like your dad when he was your age." You gently poked her cheeks with your index fingers, which made her smile.

Both of you were smiling to each other when Emma reminded you to quickly take the pictures. You stood up and held your hand out at Sarah, who gladly took it to follow you, standing in front of the camera.

"Okay, what serious pose do you wanna do?"

Sarah crossed her arms without hesitation and puffed out her chest as best she could. She lifted her chin up, pursing her lips with knitted brows to seem fierce. You smirked at her actions, finding her adorable, before striking the same pose beside her.

The second one was a fun pose. She had you piggyback her, and the two of you were laughing as the photographer caught the moment. Your eyes flicked at Joel and Tommy, who were looking on behind the photographer. Joel was staring at you with a forlorn look, which you did not miss before he tensed up when he caught you looking at him.

"Good. Now, with the family." The photographer said, turning to Joel and Tommy.

The Miller brothers stepped forward to stand beside you, one on each side. Sarah was standing in front of you with your hands on her shoulders. Your heart started to beat faster as Joel came near you. He put a certain distance between you both when he stood beside you.

"Closer, please." The photographer gestured with one hand at Joel and ordered him to stand closer towards you.

Joel reluctantly took a step closer, which resulted in his arm brushing against yours. That made you stand still as you felt tingles running up your arms to your neck. Sarah turned her head slightly from the instinctive tightening grip of your hands on her shoulders. You relaxed your hands in a flash when you realised that you could have hurt her.

"One, two, three!" The photographer raised his voice slightly, and you heard the camera clicking away. He stopped and lowered the camera, not satisfied with your expression.

"You gotta smile," He portrayed his own smile, looking at you and Joel.

You turned your head to glance at Joel, and you saw him looking at you from the corner of his eyes when he noticed your movement. In an instant, you looked back at the front to see that the photographer was ready to continue taking photos. This time, you smiled without fail.

Once it was done, Sarah turned around to say goodbye. You bent down slightly with open arms, and she gladly reached around you to snuggle against your chest. With warmth enveloping your heart, you closed your eyes and rested your chin on her head, taking in the sweet moment with her.

Tommy looked at both of you with eyes representing relief. He remembered you fondly because he regarded you as his older sister. You had come over to the house often to play with him and, oftentimes, look after him when Joel was not around. Unlike his older brother, you were gentle and kind to him. He was 11 when you left, and it broke his heart that his caring older sister was moving away. He blamed Joel for it for a while and showed resentment towards him. He heard rumours about what had happened from the kids in the neighbourhood who went to the same high school as you and Joel. He didn't know the truth of it all until he was grown enough to learn about the whole story from Joel.

Tommy took a peek at Joel, who was standing beside you. He could tell that Joel had missed you too, even though he had not said it out loud for the past 12 years. He did not have to because with one look in his eyes, Tommy could feel his longing. He knew that his brother still felt guilty about what had happened, but all that he wanted was that the both of you could make up for it because he missed his family before the emotional hurricane happened.

You cleared your throat from the awkwardness after Sarah held her dad's hand again.

"So, y'all heading straight home after this?" You tried to find the courage to look at Joel, who was already staring at you but failed to do so, finding comfort in Tommy instead.

"We're going to the hospital to visit Nana," Sarah blurted out which made you snapped your head towards her with a frown on your face.

"Sarah—"Joel quickly

"Nana is in the hospital?" Your voice was high-pitched when you took in the new information. You were still frowning when you shifted your gaze to Joel.

"You don't need to worry about it." Joel tried to dismiss it, but you were obviously not satisfied with his answer.

"What happened to Nana?" You took a step closer to him, which caused him to instinctively move a step away from you.

"Nothing." He avoided looking at you and gripped Sarah's hand tighter, pulling her away to escape. You stood there, watching him leave.

Tommy hesitated to move as he witnessed what had just happened. He touched the side of your arms to lessen your worry. Then, reaching into his pocket, he took out a folded piece of paper and handed it to you.

"There's my number in there, so feel free to call anytime. You can ask me about anything, and I will try my best to answer it. I miss you, sis. It's great to see you again." Teary-eyed, Tommy opened his arms slightly, wanting to hug you after 12 long years.

You welcomed him by wrapping his neck with your arms, tip-toeing slightly from his height. His grip around you was tight as he swayed you from side to side.

"I miss you too, baby boy," you whispered in his ears, tears lingering on the edge of your eyes.

"I'm not a baby," he argued with an annoyed tone, just like when he was younger, fighting that he was just a boy and not a baby.

"You're still a baby to me." You pulled back with a tight-lipped smile, not wanting to cry, while you looked at his 24-year-old face.

Tommy let you go and returned to a mischievous look, "Call me, okay?" You nodded. "I'll see you around." He winked before jogging away to catch up with his brother and niece.

next part

#take a shot fic #joel miller x reader #joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel miller x you #joel miller au #joel miller x f!reader #joel the last of us #joel x reader #pedro pascal #the last of us fic #joel miller fanfic #pedro pascal fanfiction #joel miller tlou #joel tlou #joel miller fluff #joel miller angst

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palajae · 1 year ago

Text

hypegirl! | final.

PAIRING ▸ soccer player! niki x afab! reader

GENRE ▸ soccerl! au, roommates!au, she's the man! au, romance, fluff, angst, humor

WORD COUNT ▸ 4k

SUMMARY ▸ all you want is to join the boys’ soccer team. all niki wants is to get minji’s attention. as roommates, what better than to strike a deal and help each other out? nothing really, except for one glaring issue: your blossoming feelings for said roommate. oh, and the fact that you’re technically supposed to be your brother, kim sunoo.

AKA a hopefully more sfw version of she's the man?

NOTES ▸ based off she’s the man (2006), reader is sunoo's sister and pretends to be her brother sunoo, gender swap, like one curse word, kissing,— please let me know if there’s any typos!

masterlist. | previous.

I DON’T WANNA FIGHT YOUR SHADOW…

“what? you want to do what?”

niki doesn’t say anything as his head hangs low. he stares at the ground, dark eyebags prominent.

“niki,” jungwon sighs in exasperation, “let’s think rationally about this. we’ve been working toward this day for weeks. this is it. we can’t make any last minute changes now.”

“right,” jay chimes in.

“sunoo’s become a valuable player on the team. we need him. seriously, what could have possibly happened that you suddenly want to kick him off the day of playoffs?”

niki only shakes his head as the rest of the team exchanges looks.

“sorry man, but we keep personal business off the field. sunoo’s in, whether you like it or not.”

sunoo’s worried—to say the least. between you not replying to any of his texts and the current dilemma at hand, he isn’t sure what to do.

all he can do is clench his trusty flute as his band arrives at your camp.

it’s hectic, with kids and directors running around attempting to prepare the performance for the game. essentially a perfect chance for sunoo to sneak and snoop around.

sunoo manages to spot the boys locker room, and he takes his chance.

the minute he steps in, he’s greeted by the smell of deodorant, grass, and… the mustiness of sport locker rooms.

guys are everywhere, clothes and gear strewn all over the place as they prepare for the tournament.

he glances around for any sight of you, not exactly sure what to look for but still keeping an eye out for a smaller figure. sunoo takes about three steps forward, until he yelps.

he feels an arm roughly pulling him toward the side, and he whips his head around.

“sunoo-dude, where were you? we were starting to think you weren’t gonna show up! get changed, the first match is gonna start soon.”

his heart drops. no way, did they think he was-

a jersey is flung at his face. somehow, in the midst of the chaos, face paint is slathered onto his face, effectively concealing his identity even more.

where were you?

first match, first half—to everyone’s shock—enhypen’s down.

most yells are directed at, who’d you least expect, kim sunoo.

“kim! what are you doing?”

“pass! no-here! to me! ”

“why are you so slow today?!”

all sunoo can do is apologize while wheezing. he wasn’t built for this. it’s not like he had much of a choice, he was shoved onto the field.

at one point, jungwon’s eyes flash at him and he visibly shrinks.

“dude, i don’t know what’s going on, but we’re subbing you out.”

you jump up to the sound of cheers, an announcer yelling—

“and enhypen takes home their first win with a great comeback in the second half!”

enhypen? win? comeback?

you scramble to your feet, heart racing.

crap. what time was it?

you pat your pockets to no avail.

that’s right—your phone was left in your dorm…that you couldn’t access because niki kicked you out.

more cheers from outside bring you back to your current situation. you overslept since you didn’t have your phone alarm.

the tournament started. enhypen played and won their first match, without you.

you frown, scrambling to get to the stadium. who in the world played for you?

once you make it past the crowd of people, coaches, and players, you scan the field.

and your mouth drops open.

on the opposite side of the soccer field, sitting on the bench right in front of you, was kim sunoo. the real one, your brother.

he was decked out in face paint and—

was that your uniform?

somehow, you manage to make eye contact. you begin mouthing words furiously at him, only for him to point at the crowd.

frowning, you turn around toward the audience and performing band. you squint.

your mouth drops again. because there in the crowd, sitting in the middle row right in front of you, were your parents.

immediately, you turn around and flee toward the locker rooms, signaling for sunoo to follow while everyone was still distracted with your team’s win.

you don’t even get to take a single step when the announcer clears his throat to say something.

“attention everyone! enhypen is disqualified. they must forfeit this match and immediately report to the main office.”

gasps and protests immediately ring out.

you hide behind a water cooler, gauging the guys reactions. they all look confused and upset.

niki stalks over to the camp director and coach, where an unimpressed taehyun stands with his arms crossed.

“what’s going on? why do we have to forfeit? we won fair and square, there’s no-“

“i wouldn’t count lying and having a girl on your team as fair and square, nishimura.”

the whole team outbursts, while your coach sighs, rubbing his hand over his face.

the director eyes sunoo, “we have pretty good reason and evidence to believe that kim sunoo is not who he—or she—states they are.”

sunoo immediately stands up as the rest of the team gapes at him.

“females are not allowed at this camp, let alone allowed on a team to play in the final championships.”

taehyun nods. he had found too many irregularities with you, kim sunoo. the conversations with your mom, video footage of you sneaking into the locker rooms as a guy and exiting as a girl, and the fake sideburns and eyebrows in the trash can.

niki stands still, hands clenched as he glares at sunoo.

he can hear the rest of the guys whispering in disbelief.

“this makes no sense. how could he be a girl after all this time?”

“and no one noticed…”

“—this is absurd.”

the announcer sighs, and speaks up once more to the entire stadium. “i apologize once again to the crowd and opponent team for the inconvenience. enhypen will be removed from the tournament due to dishonesty and lack of regards for the rules.

i do not want to repeat it—no females are allowed to play on any team for any reason whatsoever!”

you gasp, covering a hand over your mouth. you were still partially hidden, and you know if you were found, it would be over.

sunoo sighs, facing the guys and camp director.

“put enhypen back in the game. we didn’t break any rules. i’m not a girl.”

taehyun’s eyes narrow. “you can’t lie your way out of it again. we have all the evidence we need.”

sunoo gestures out grandly, toward your team and the crowd.

“do i have to spell it out to you? i’m a guy. this is ridiculous. what, you want me to prove i’m not a girl? i’ll pull down my pants or-“

clamor follows, but it’s stopped by a desperate yell.

you watch from afar, as your parents stalk up to the director. your mother, as expected, seems adamant as she validates her son’s words.

“excuse me, but there seems to be an issue with my son, here. there’s no possible way you would be doubting his identity?”

“ma’am, we have submitted evidence that your son sunoo is actually a-“

“and so do i. would you like to see his birth certificate? i didn’t pay for my son to attend this camp to simply get disqualified for a ridiculous accusation.”

after a few minutes of deliberation, against taehyun’s protests, the director sighs and rubs his hands together. you hold your breath. the verdict?

“we apologize for our mistake—enhyphen is not disqualified and will be moving on to the next round. let the next match commence!”

you watch your team breathe a sigh of relief, clapping sunoo on the back. but your gaze can’t seem to stay off of niki. he stays off to the side, fists still clenched. he hasn’t looked or said a single word to sunoo—you.

you know him, there’s a storm brewing inside.

and it’s all because of you.

you see the crowd return to normal, your mom furiously spewing nonsense as your parents walk back to their seats.

you nod at your brother, this is your chance.

you run towards an empty hallway, waiting for your brother to bring you your clothes.

“sorry,” sunoo heaves, “they’re sweaty.”

“it’s okay,” you grab them and shut the unused closet door behind you. “i’m used to it by now.”

sunoo waits outside the old janitor closet, keeping watch as you change and exchange identities, once again.

once you exit, sunoo’s eyes widen.

“wow, you look exactly like me.”

you smirk. “and you’re horrible at soccer.”

he shoves you softly and you laugh. “thanks bro. i really owe you one for saving me out there.”

he nods, “anything for my sister. i need to sneak back to the band though. let me know if you need anything and good luck.”

you hug him quickly. “of course.” the confidence that surged through you as you walked back toward the field, knowing your brother had your back, empowers you.

“guys,” you call out, “i’m back. what’s going on?”

some of the guys still send you weird looks, but you ignore it. niki’s still ignoring you, and it makes a dreadful feeling grow in the pit of your stomach.

the matches were cut down in order to fit all of them in one day and preserve the player’s energies.

but your team was excelling. you had already advanced to the semifinals, as expected. with you back and eager to play, the team was running smoothly.

after winning your third match, jay and heeseung high five you.

“nice, sunoo. i don’t know what happened to you during the first game, but you redeemed yourself.” you cough, muttering some lame excuse.

everything was going great, all except for one person. every break, time out, the whole time, niki acted as if you didn’t exist.

in the middle of the game, you would keep up with him, waiting for him to pass the ball. but niki being the stubborn person he was, ignored you and tried to keep going even when you were open.

mistakes were costly, and you could feel the tension building up. the other guys were getting agitated, you could tell, but he wouldn’t budge.

you kept telling yourself, one more match. all you needed to do was win one more match and that would be it.

it was nearing the end of the day. everyone was sweaty and exhausted. half the crowd had left, but your parents were still there, cheering for their son meanwhile in reality, he was playing in the band a few meters away in the stands and their daughter was on the field.

the final match was occurring, enhypen vs. zerobaseone. you knew, it wasn’t going to be easy. not with an uncooperative niki.

and by the first half, you were right. after calling out niki so many times to pass the ball and receiving nothing in response, everyone was on edge.

the score was still 0-0. several times niki would get the ball stolen or make the ball go out, all while ignoring you. you swear he even tripped you at one point.

at halftime, your coach and teammates were fed up too. “come on, niki. get your head in the game!”

“what’s going on with you and sunoo today?”

“you’re costing us too many opportunities. kim’s open and you’re obviously not giving it to him for a reason! figure it out, nishimura.”

all he does is shake his head, chugging water and staying silent.

you’re tired. your coach shakes his head in frustration, muttering off about personal issues.

the team is completely off balance, and everyone can feel it.

but only you can do something about it.

with heavy breaths, you match up to niki in front of the whole team.

“nishimura riki!” you call out his real name, causes him to react for a second with the slight widening of his eyes before he reverts to his cold facade again.

“why are you doing this right now? we’re a team, now that we got so far, don’t you want to win?

“maybe you should’ve thought about that before lying to me and breaking our friendship,“ he replies ruthlessly.

you sigh, pinching your nose bridge, “it wasn’t my intention to do so! i never had any intention of doing so, and i never will! i don’t like minji and i never tried to get with her.”

you exhale, trying to calm yourself while the whole team was watching.

“i will never like minji.”

he scoffs, “why should I believe you after everything?”

“because the whole time i’ve been genuine. you’re one of my closest friends i’ve made here at the camp. if i really wanted to date minji, i would have told you that. you know i tried my best to help you,” your voice cracks at the last sentence.

he looks confused for a second before his eyes harden.

“whatever, it doesn’t matter anymore. i can’t trust anything you say or do now.”

you grab his arm, desperate.

“we’ve been honest about everything, haven’t we? i don’t want to lose you, and i don’t want our team to lose this chance of winning. i don’t care about minji. i could prove it right now.”

he challenges you, eyes dark. just like he had since the first day.

“how? how will you prove it?”

you close your eyes, taking in a deep breath. you decided this was your chance to let it all out. after this, you would go home anyway. whether you would be forced back to your old, mundane life as your mother wanted was up to the future. you open your eyes, finally feeling like yourself as you begin taking off the fake sideburns, eyebrows, and finally, the wig.

“like i said, i don’t care about minji.”

you finally untie your hair and shake it out free.

“i care about you.”

with an eruption of shocked gasps and whispers, you falter. perhaps you should have waited until after the final game. your true identity and appearance were revealed. everything was out in the open.

niki states blankly at you, chest heaving.

you think you faintly hear your parents shriek your name. ignoring them, you step closer to him.

“i’m sorry. i’m sorry that i lied to you about this. but please believe me when i say i’m y/n, and i never meant to hurt you. so for right now, can we save this for later and just focus on beating the crap out of our opponents?”

you take the chance to glance around, seeing everyone’s shocked expressions.

silence falls as your coach speaks up, “this is illegal…”

you glance away, unable to say or do anything.

what you don’t expect is the team’s clamors, especially from jungwon who you abruptly make eye contact with.

he’s the first to speak up and advocate for you staying on the team.

“coach we all knew the rules… but we can’t not let her play after she’s proven herself all this time.”

“it’s unfair to deny her the right to play after she’s been working so hard this entire season with us!”

as the rest of the boys join in, your coach looks helplessly at the director. soon enough, people from the audience join in too.

you can’t help the hopeful smile that breaks out on your face, seeing your parents still in shock yet not disapproving.

after a couple of minutes of deliberation (and your internal praying and pleading) along with the crowd and band’s support, the camp director begrudgingly allows you to play.

the guys cheer, clapping you on the back and high-fiving you. all except niki, who still lingers at the side with an unreadable expression.

then, it’s time to play.

it feels different, already. you feel different—with the wind blowing your hair behind you and the ability to speak in your normal voice, act as your normal self.

no, to be your normal self.

you ran faster, spotted clearer, worked harder. you felt renewed.

and once you saw the opening, with three minutes left, you glance at niki desperately. you hoped you conveyed everything in your face at that split second, like extending your arm out and hoping he would help you up from the ground.

niki cleanly passes the ball to you, just so you can score a final goal.

you don’t even realize it, once the final whistle blows, you almost collapse onto the grass.

roars erupt in the air, people around you lift you up and throw you around. yet, your eyes are only on one figure to your left. somehow, in all the commotion, niki grabs your hand in happiness. then he realizes the situation and your grip is broken by your ecstatic team.

your eyes lock for a moment before niki turns away, head slightly shaking and you frown.

you won. but at what cost?

on the last day of camp, after surprisingly receiving a lot of praise from your parents on your performance (as well as an apology from keeping you and sunoo from your respective passions), you finish packing up everything.

when you got back to the dorms last night, niki was sleeping with the lights off and his back to you. you were still hurt, but at least he let you back into your room.

you pack up silently, in case he was sleeping.

even if he was asleep, you speak up softly.

“i’m sorry. i’m really, really sorry niki….”

his shadowy figure remains unmoving.

“i-i hope you know everything i ever said and did was genuine. at least, to me it was. i li-“ you bite the words back on your tongue.

“i cared about you a lot. i care about you a lot. i’ll cherish this summer forever. thank you for the best memories. thank you for changing my life completely. thank you for being you, riki.”

figuring that anything you two had was over, you got your stuff ready to go while blinking away the tears.

during the final breakfast, you talked to minji and apologized. she took it much better than you expected, promising to keep in touch as real friends now with no hard feelings left.

the boys on your team were just as quick to warm up to you. besides consoling you over niki, they promised to keep in touch as well. you were more than glad and appreciative to have friends and soccer mates.

in your daze, reflecting over the course of the last day or so, you feel your phone vibrate.

[11:36 am] sunbro: we’re on our way back

[11:37 am] sunbro: better hurry up if you’re not packed and ready!

you gather your stuff and say your final goodbyes to your coaches, friends, and finally, the camp.

you’re happy and sad to be leaving it all behind. maybe until next year now that they decided to let girls join this soccer camp.

with your heavy bags, you trudge along your way outside. you stared around at the campus for the last time by yourself.

it was strange to have some peace and quiet without the ruckus of the soccer camp and guys. one last attempt to capture everything one last time—one of your most memorable and life changing summers.

and maybe a tiny bit of you was searching, holding onto that little piece of hope just to see that one person’s face for the last time.

but it’s silent. you come to a slow when you reach the gates, gathering your stuff to head out.

now you wait. you wait to leave with much more than you entered with.

sighing, you freeze when you hear shuffling, the sound of… footsteps approaching you?

you don’t want to get your hopes up, but you hold your breath.

turning around, you see him.

your grip on the suitcase squeezes harder.

he looks divine, comfy in his last day fit that wasn’t his jersey or training uniform.

“hey,” he starts off.

“hi,” you breathe. for some reason, you can’t bring yourself to meet his intense gaze.

niki doesn’t say anything at first, so you take the chance to speak up.

“what’s up? i figured… you wouldn’t want anything to do with me.”

hands shoved in his pockets, he fidgets on his feet. a tiny smile appears on your face.

“i don’t know, there’s a lot i’ve been thinking about.”

your chest tightens. “i see. d-do you want to share?” you finally look him in the eye and it’s like time freezes.

niki isn’t able to handle seeing you like this, your real self. he thought you were too pretty for your own good. too good at pretending to be a guy and too good at making him react like this without even doing anything. without even knowing.

he thought it was over too. but after he heard what you said that night after the championships, he couldn’t stop thinking about you. about the entire summer with you. this time, he wouldn’t let you slip away from him like you did at the fair.

niki glances down, taking a few steps closer as your eyes widen. “i miss my roommate who was also one of my closest friends. i really, really liked him. but i also really, really like the girl i met at the fair. she was beautiful, charming, uplifting.”

you place a hand over your chest, “i think they feel the same way,” you whisper.

“i’m really sorry that i didn’t tell you,” you start off, “i was afraid of getting caught-and of all the consequences, so i tried to hide and cover everything up. it was incredibly selfish of me to hurt others, you, without realizing it. i’m so sorry.”

niki reaches a hand out to grab yours, “yeah, you hurt me. but you also healed me. in more ways than you think. i think, if you hadn’t snuck in as a guy, we would have never met and gotten as close as we did. you really changed my life too.”

he says your name, and you look at him. hesitantly, fearfully.

as if you would mess it all up again and he would leave you once more.

you swallow.

“everything we did together as friends, as someone i wasn’t, just made me like you even more as myself.”

he takes a step closer.

“is there any chance we could start over?”

niki chuckles and you feel your face getting hot.

“i’m nishimura riki. and you are?”

you stare down at his offered hand in shock.

it takes only a second for you to proudly state your name, reaching a hand out to meet his.

“a pretty name for a pretty face.”

you flush. where did this side of niki come from?

“it’s very nice to meet you,” he adds, “quite nice. almost an honor after all the things i heard about you, well, from yourself-“

you shove niki. there was his playful side again. you relax a little seeing him be more like his old self.

although, he catches your arm and quickly pulls you into him.

you almost yelp, wide eyes boring into his playful ones. it feels comfortable in his embrace, almost like home.

the distance between you two closes, smiles on your faces growing as you feel your heartbeats collide when his lips finally touch yours.

“bye mom! i’ll text you later, sunoo!”

your mom yells for you to be careful as you slam the door shut behind you (not without giving your brother a quick hug on the way out).

you carry your duffel bag on one arm as you head over to the waiting vehicle, with a particularly dashing man inside.

he, however, gets out as you run towards him. he picks you up and spins you around as you laugh at his excitement—it was his favorite sound that he could never get enough of.

he places a sweet kiss on your lips and you smile happily at him.

“you ready to play, babe?”

“as ready as i’ll ever be, bro.”

“you totally just did not call your loving, awesome, superior boyfriend that…”

“but i did?” you raise an eyebrow as to challenge him, “and you’re gonna accept it because you like me too much.”

with a sigh, your boyfriend heeds your words as he always does.

niki’s arms stay forever wrapped around you and your soccer bag as he awkwardly walks the both of you to your side of the car.

“whatever, let’s just go kick some ass.”

“oh, you bet i will.”

a/n ▸ hi guys... surprise?? yes, i'm alive. i was in the hospital for a little and really needed to focus on my health so i decided to take a break. i apologize for the longass wait on the ending of this series, so i crammed to get it done :) thank you as always for the support and love. i appreciate all the feedback <3 i'll be trying to get back on a better, more consistent schedule so see you guys soon again!

MAIN TAGLIST ▸ @precioussoulofmine @kynrki @heesterical @jungwonize @rerequire @nvertheless @duolingofanaccount @hoeshii @love-4-keum @nyanggk @luvhyun3 @dimplewonie @yjjungwon @flwrshee

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SERIES TAGLIST ▸ @lwavander @eloelooo @heatrache @harufluff @kjrcrz @kpopstanmeg @luvkpopp @yunicide @nunugget @kyanmeai @enhastolemyheart @j-wyoung @yinviyang @enhawinnieee @suvgs @zhounauts @123-678h @rshmra @they2luv1naia @hoodiebangtan @bachiwrld @lprww @riskiriki @minhosprettywife @fakeuwus @yumilovesloona @microwvdstrawb3rri3s @k25vi

#enhypen x reader #enhypen imagines #enhypen scenarios #enhypen fluff #niki x reader #niki x you #riki nishimura x reader #niki fluff #niki scenarios #niki imagines #nishimura riki #enhypen niki

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you-call-it-a-dude · 8 months ago

Text

Just Can't Hack It

Request: leighton fic with a reader who deals with substance abuse issues, and only really goes to her when she’s vulnerable and stuff. reader also feels like she’s living a double life, playing soccer with whitney and being the “star” of the team, just having some status arround essex, which causes pressure in her life

Pairing: Leighton Murray x fem!reader

Warnings: TW!! substance use(opioids), death by overdose, overdose symptoms, withdrawal symptoms

A/N: I think I might have made this WAY more depressing than the person was requesting. I will give a spoiler now, reader does not die. It's the death of an friend/acquaintance-ish? Please don't read this if you will find it triggering. But yes, sorry I've been gone for a bit, life has hands and I can't fight lol. But yeah, I hope you all have been doing well.

To the person who requested this, if it's not what you wanted please let me know and I will do something else 🫶🏼

---

"What the is your problem, Y/N!?" Your coach shouted from the sidelines, watching you recover from a gnarly fight with a player from the other team.

You were about to score another goal when the player in question grabbed you by your jersey, causing you to slip and fall face first into the pitch.

You should've let it go. You knew better. But your face hurt, you were pissed, and before you could even comprehend the situation, you were in the girl's face swearing at her and shoving her.

A yellow card was being shoved in your face by the referee and you pushed past his hand, wiping your face with your jersey and making your way over to the sidelines where your coach was beckoning for you.

"Are you good?" Whitney jogged to catch up to you, her hand resting on your stomach to get you to stop moving, but you kept walking. She pressed more firmly against you, forcing you to stop. "Yo, I said are you good?" She asked, sounding more serious and annoyed this time and you blinked a few times to try to get your brain working again.

"I'm fine." You say, swallowing down your anger because you refuse to take it out on someone that didn't deserve it.

"Y/L/N!" Your coach shouted from the sidelines, his face red. Whitney raised her eyebrows and shoved you forward, heading back on to the field.

You jogged your way over to him, wiping your sweaty face with your arm and once you were within range, he was toe to toe with you, screaming in your face. It was the usual shit. How he expected more from you. That you all are too close to the championship for you to be fucking around like this and risk getting a red and being suspended from games. That you know your team relies on you. To be better. All fucking bullshit.

You stared at the vein popping out of his forehead, your own anger beginning to bubble up again the longer you went without your pills.

You clenched your jaw, grinding your teeth and thinking about how badly all you wanted to do was smash his teeth and get the fuck out of here.

You were benched for the remainder of the game. You were already up by three points, two of which were scored by you. Coach said you were clearly in a mood today and the last thing he needed was for you to get into another fight. He said Whitney and the other girls could handle themselves the rest of the game and to get the fuck out of his face.

There were only about eight minutes left in the game and they felt like eternity. You downed a Gatorade, feeling yourself start to get nauseous. One of your teammates offered you a granola bar and you declined, fully convinced that eating it would only make you feel worse.

The other team scored two goals in your absence and the coach shot you dirty looks for the entirety of final eight minutes of the game. You still won by a one point lead and everyone still celebrated, running up and pulling you into a bouncing hug that also made you want to hurl.

You broke away from the team as soon as you were given the opportunity, grabbing your gym bag and another Gatorade from the cooler. You chugged some of the Gatorade with shaky hands, walking to the locker room.

You shoved all your clothes into your bag, not even bothering to or having the strength to change into them right now.

You dug out your phone, accidentally having shoved it into your bag with the rest of your things. You texted your connect two days ago, then also yesterday, and still didn't get a response from him. You grunted in frustration and locked your phone, shoving it back into your bag.

You began the short trek back to the dorms from the field, knowing exactly where you wanted to go and who you wanted to be with.

You nursed the Gatorade on your short walk over, feeling the icy drink somewhat bring you back to life. When you were standing outside of her dorm, you pulled out your phone to call her.

"Hey, I'm outside. Come get meeeee." You said as soon as she answered the phone. She said she was on her way without hesitation and you knew she wasn't lying because you could hear her grabbing her keys. You smiled and hung up the phone, waiting patiently for her, sipping on your Gatorade. The hot sun doing absolutely nothing to help you feel better.

Leighton opened the side door of the building for you, letting you in and the cool breeze from the air conditioning made you feel human again.

Or maybe it was just the grip she had on your hips when you walked in, having wasted no time wrapping her arms around you.

"You're so sweaty, are you okay?" She asked, her cool hand pressing against the back of your neck.

"I'm just so warm, babe." You pouted, wanting her to take care of you. To help you get rid of this problem that truthfully you caused yourself.

It wasn't even that hot outside today. There was a cool breeze to help balance out the heat of the sun, but you felt this heat and warmth under your skin and made you want to claw it off.

She closed the door behind you and gripped your sweaty hand, leading you up to her room.

Bela was sitting on the couch when you entered, doing her make up and most likely preparing to go out somewhere tonight. You smiled and greeted her politely and she had no trouble telling you that you looked like shit.

Leighton told her to zip it and she pulled you into her room, shutting the door behind her.

"Change out of those nasty clothes, please." She said, setting up her bed and pulling the covers back. She stole the standing fan from Bela's side of the room, aiming it toward her bed.

You pulled off your jersey, wiping your face with it once more, pressing the material into your skin. You felt her hands on your bare hips, tracing soft patterns with her thumbs and waiting patiently for you to change.

You sigh, removing your jersey from your face and making your way to your gym bag. You shove your jersey into the bag and pull out your deodorant, putting on almost an excessive amount.

You stripped off your sports bra and changed into a pair of comfy shorts and a tank top.

"Better?" You ask and she nods, climbing into bed first and taking her usual position pressed against the wall. She pats the space next to her and you waste no time climbing in, laying face down with your face buried in your arms.

She lifts up the back of your shirt, exposing your sweaty back to the cool breeze of the fan and you could feel yourself starting to shiver now, but your skin still felt like it was on fire.

You grabbed your phone from her nightstand, checking your messages again and still seeing nothing. You turned your phone on loud and tossed it aside with annoyance.

"What's the matter?" She asked softly, her fingers running through your damp hair "Do you feel sick?" She asks sounding concerned.

You nodded, unsure what else to tell her.

"I think I just played too hard today." You lie, knowing damn well you didn't use as much energy as you could've and should've for today's game.

"I heard you got into a fight." She says, her fingertips now tracing patterns along your back.

"God, Whitney is fast." You groan, adjusting yourself so you can lay your head on her chest. Grunting and pushing one of her boobs into a better position for you to rest your head on.

She threw her head back and laughed loudly at your measures to make yourself comfortable, pushing some hair from your face.

"You're ridiculous." She teases, her hand coming down to rest on the back of your head.

"I'm aware." You mumble, closing your eyes in an attempt to calm down, cool off, warm up, and maybe fall the fuck asleep.

It had been maybe twenty minutes, possibly more, when your phone went off. It went off in the text tone specific to your app where you communicated with your dealer and your heart raced.

You were about ready to fly off the bed and grab your phone, but that was probably the most obvious and suspicious thing you could do at the moment. You let the text sit for a minute, your foot bouncing anxiously against the mattress.

It pinged again and you sat up slowly, reaching over to grab your phone from the nightstand.

'Come thru'

'Yo, let's go. I've got plans later.'

You scrunched your nose up at the message and mentally cussed him out, typing out your reply.

'Be there in ten.'

"I'm gonna run out and get something to eat." You say, standing up and slipping on your gym shoes, then quickly throwing on a t-shirt. "You want something, baby?"

She sat up on her elbows with a confused look on her face.

"Do you want me to come with you? We can go out somewhere." She offered.

"No," you say a little too fast, making her widen her eyes. "I just want something quick like a smoothie or something. You want anything or no?" You pull your wallet from your gym bag and shove it into your shorts, waiting for her to respond.

"No, I'm fine." She sounded annoyed. You can hear in her voice, but you didn't have time to address it right now.

You crawled on to the bed, pressing a quick kiss to her lips.

"I'll be back." You say, rushing out of her room and closing her bedroom door behind you. You said a quick goodbye to Bela and rushed out of their room, bumping into Whitney who was just coming home.

"Where did you disappear to? How did you get here before me? Where are you even going now?" She asked her questions in quick succession and you just grabbed her shoulder as you walked past her, thinking you were about to knock her down.

"I'll be back. Want a smoothie or something?" You asked her as you walked away, but you were fully gone and out of sight before she even had the chance to answer you.

You bolted down the stairs and out of the building, running across campus to this dude's dorm. All of a sudden your energy had returned. Crazy how it worked like that.

You ran through the student union on your way, stopping at the ATM and pulling out $200 dollars from and eating the fuck out of those ATM fees.

When you made it to his dorm, his roommate was sitting outside hitting his vape, waiting for you. He motioned with his head for you to follow him and just like you do routinely, you followed him to his room. He let you in and left to do god knows what.

"What's up, Angel." You greeted your dealer when the door was closed behind you. "How's it going?"

"No complaints, Y/N. Heard about your fight at the game today." He chuckles, handing you a small baggie of ten blue pills.

"I feel like everyone has." You shake your head and laugh. "Two hundred?" You ask, handing him the money.

He counts it quickly, handing you back a twenty.

"Since I kept you waiting and you got here fast."

"Sweet, thanks so much." You say, taking the pills and the twenty and shoving them into your pocket. "Have a good one!" You wave goodbye to him and he tells you to be safe, opening the door for you and closing it behind you.

You shoved your hand into your pocket, gripping the pills protectively. You walked down the hallway, looking behind you to make sure it was clear, or well clear enough before pulling the baggie back out and taking one of the pills, popping it into your mouth. You swallowed it, washing it down with water from the fountain at the end of the hall.

You began your walk back to Leighton's dorm, already feeling a sense of relief before the meds kicked in.

---

Okay, so, you intended to go back to Leighton's dorm. You really fucking did. You ran into one of your friends on the way over and she invited you to a get together on the edge of campus.

It wasn't a big party or anything, the issue being you were locked into her couch for about six fucking hours once the percs kicked in. It really wasn't your fault.

Well, okay, it was. Whatever.

When you finally got control of your brain and your limbs to pull out your phone, you saw an obscene amount of missed calls and texts from Leighton.

Even scarier were the missed calls and texts from Whitney.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck." You mumbled under your breath, calling Whitney back first.

"You know you're a fucking asshole, right?" She tells you as soon as you picked up the phone. "Where have you fucking been?" You stayed quiet because you didn't even have anything to say to defend yourself. "What is wrong with you? Like seriously? Do you know Leighton has been freaking out and crying for like the last few hours? Why do you do this to her, Y/N, huh? Do you even care?"

"Of course I fucking care." You say harshly, because you did care about Leighton. The last you wanted to ever do was upset her or hurt her.

"It's been like eight hours, Y/N. What happened to getting a quick smoothie?"

"I ran into a friend and just lost track of time. I'm coming now, okay? Is she home still?"

"Ooh, you piss me the fuck off." She said, hanging up the phone on you.

"Bitch." You muttered, scrolling through your phone and calling Leighton. It rang three times before you were sent to voicemail. You hung up and called back, being sent to voicemail immediately. "Fuck." You swore, standing up and shoving off the random person passed out on you, causing her to mumble and cuss you out before repositioning herself.

You looked around the room. It was just you and two other people, both of which were passed out. You heard thumping upstairs so you knew everyone else kept the party going upstairs.

You shoved your phone into your pocket, shoving both your hands into a pocket to make sure you haven't been robbed during some point of the night.

You stumbled for a moment, feeling yourself gain some sort of sense of clarity when you recognized the guy sleeping on one of the chairs across your room. He was your friend's boyfriend. Well, before he was her boyfriend he was your classmate.

You met him your second semester of freshman year. He was always shy and tended to just gravitate to you whenever you had any classes together. You had lunch with him once outside of class and that's when you introduced him to Liza and they really hit it off.

Now he was passed out in a chair covered in puke and you hated yourself for introducing him to her and sometimes you think he hated you for that, too.

"DJ." You call out his name, tripping over trash and god knows what else to get the where he was sitting. "Hey!" You shouted gripping his face in your hands, his head lulling to the side. "DJ!" You shouted, slapping him in the face.

"Are you trying to fuck my boyfriend?" Said Liza out of nowhere, leaning against the wall to help herself down the stairs.

"What? Are you fucking insane? You need to call an ambulance!" You say, holding his face in your hands until Liza came and shoved you off.

"He's fine." She slurred, climbing onto his lap.

"Fuck." You say, running your hands through your hair in a panic, thinking of the naloxone you were offered from a clinic not too long ago as some harm reduction thing and the fact that you declined it. "Liza, I'm so fucking serious."

"This is how he always gets." She reassured, cradling is drooping head, his skin pale and lips turning blue.

"Fuck." You swear again, running out of the house as fast as your body allows you, pulling out your phone.

You call 911 when you're out of the house and in the front yard. You tell them the address and where he is, that you think he overdosed and what you think he took. Before they could ask you anymore questions you hung up the phone, debating between staying or going.

You knew about the Good Samaritan Act, which is why you felt inclined to stay, but the fact that you were on campus and the school was under zero obligation to allow you to stay in enrolled if they caught wind of this was the exact reason you left.

You bolted down the block, far enough get away from the house and not seem involved but close enough to look like a bystander who just stumbled upon the situation.

The ambulance showed up within five minutes, knocking on the door and being let in by another panicked person who also must've realized what was happening with DJ.

You expected to be waiting a while for the paramedics to come back out. Hopeful that they would be taking the time to work on him before bringing him back out.

What you didn't expect was for them to be coming out within like three minutes, if that, one of the paramedics straddling the lifeless body and doing chest compressions while the other two rolled them into the ambulance.

Your body processed the situation before your brain could, nausea crashing into like you ran into a cement wall. You stumbled a few feet, dry heaving into a bush and wanting nothing more than just to fucking puke. You spit some salvia on to the dirt below, the only thing your body offering up at the current moment was an excess amount of spit.

The siren turned on and zoomed past you and you sighed in relief, hoping that the fact that they even used the siren at all meant something. You look back toward the house, the only person standing outside was the person who let the paramedics in. No Liza or any of her other little friends.

Though you suppose you could argue that you technically weren't there either.

"Fuck." You mumbled to yourself, digging the heel of your palms into your eyes. You pull out your phone again and call Leighton again, and then again, then once more. On the fourth call she finally picked up, sounding absolutely pissed.

"What." She said coldly. You didn't really care what she said or how she sounded. All you knew was the second you heard her voice, any ability you had to hold yourself together was crumbling.

"Leighton." You said shakily, tears falling down your face. You wanted her to comfort you. To tell you things were going to be okay.

But you couldn't even tell her why you were crying.

"Y/N?" She said, her attitude dropped completely, her tone laced with concern. "Baby, what's going on?"

"Nothing." You say, your voice shaky and your bottom lip quivering. "I just had a really bad night. It's so good to hear your voice." You admit, your voice cracking slightly.

It was a hard predicament to be in, emotionally. You were on the verge of a meltdown, desperately trying to keep it at bay because you didn't want to scare her more than she probably already was. But her soft tone and the fact that you could hear how much she cared about you made you want nothing more than to just breakdown and cry because she always made you feel safe enough to do so.

"Just come over. You left your soccer bag here and you need it for tomorrow anyway." She says and your nostrils flare because you did need your bag for practice tomorrow and you were annoyed with yourself for leaving it there.

"Whitney is pissed at me. She'll get mad if I show up there."

"She's in bed already." She says, and although you've been thinking of ways to get out of going over there, you were already walking over there since the phone call started.

"Okay, I'm on my way. Will you stay on the phone with me?" You ask, the notion of being left alone with your thoughts right now probably more dangerous than any drug you could possibly do, honestly.

"Yeah, of course. Are you close?" You can hear her shuffling around a bit.

"Mhm, maybe two or three blocks." You say, sniffling to clear your nose.

"Okay, good. I'm gonna wait for you by the side door." She says quietly now, most likely because she was leaving her bedroom to walk through the common area of her shared dorm and not wanting to wake Whitney.

Both of you probably too embarrassed to deal with her after she dealt with your bullshit and now Leighton was gearing up to let you back in.

Neither of you talked for the remainder of your walk over. You heard her rustling around and stuff like that, but you didn't even need to talk honestly. You just felt comforted by the fact that she was there on the other end of the phone. That she was there waiting for you at the end of the next block.

As soon as she came into view, you hung up the phone and practically ran to her. She wrapped her arms around you tightly and if you could shove yourself into her chest you would've. Nothing felt close enough.

You gripped the back of her shirt tightly, burying your face in her neck and trying to steady your breathing before it got too out of control and you had a full blown breakdown.

"Hey, what's going on?" She had her hands on your hips, trying to push you back so she could look at you, but you wouldn't release the tight grip you had on her. "Can you please talk to me? You disappeared for hours and show up to my door a wreck, what the fuck is going on?" Her voice was a little more stern than it had been in the last few minutes, but you recognize pretty quickly it's probably because you're scaring her. "Are you hurt?" She asks, still trying to push away from you to assess the situation, but you just held on to her tighter.

She gave up trying to figure out what was wrong, instead focusing on just getting you back inside.

She gave you a pair of pajamas to change into and you crawled into bed next to her. She didn't ask you anymore about what happened or what was going on.

She ran her fingers through your hair until it put her to sleep, the weight of her hand on your head doing wonders for the splitting headache you had. You watched and checked your phone consistently, hoping for some sort of update on DJ, but too scared to call the hospital or anyone to get one yourself.

You couldn't sleep. Despite the tiredness sitting heavy on your eyes, you couldn't do it. Your mind was racing. A combination of soccer and school related bullshit and the fact that you basically possibly indirectly maybe have killed someone, felt absolutely suffocating.

You shook your head in an attempt to clear your thoughts. You never gave DJ drugs. You never told him or forced him to take anything, but you introduced him to the person that did and it made you feel just as responsible as Liza.

You stared at the ceiling until the birds started chirping, your eyes red and cheeks raw from the quiet tears shed throughout the night.

You turned to face Leighton, burying your face in the small space between her cheek and shoulder. Her cheeks were warm and she smelled like a floral lotion and laundry detergent.

You inhaled deeply and closed your eyes, the weight of sleep almost unbearable on your eyelids now. You let out a content sigh and wrapped your arm around her waist, balling her shirt up in your first from gripping it so tightly, your pinky rubbing the small piece of exposed skin on her waist.

You counted in your head everytime your pinky would move back and forth, the combination of the two actions mixed with the warmth of Leighton's body quieting your brain down enough to let you fall asleep.

Your alarm wakes you up three hours later and you groan pitifully, burying yourself further into Leighton while also reaching back for your phone to shut your alarm off.

You huff and turn it off, shoving your phone between your bodies and burying yourself deeper into Leighton's side.

"Do you need to get up for soccer?" She asks, yawning mid sentence, but continues to speak through it.

"Unfortunately."

"Skip it and hang out with me." She suggests, running her fingers through your hair.

"You're funny." You let out a fake laugh, your hand slipping into her shirt to rub patterns across her stomach. "Can I see you after practice though?" You ask her and something about asking if you can see her always makes you feel silly and desperate. Like you're panhandling for her attention, yet you always stick that metaphorical metal cup out and ask for it anyway.

"I would like that a lot. I can pick you up after practice and we can get lunch?"

"Mm, sounds perfect." You whisper, pushing yourself up to kiss her lips softly.

When you pull away from the kiss, you stretch your whole body loudly and Leighton stares at you with a small smile on her face. She peeks over you to see Bela's bed still empty, having most likely stayed at a guys house last night. She bites her lower lip before leaning in to kiss your jawline, her hand sliding up your shirt to rake her nails against your stomach before playing with the waistband of your pants.

"Can I?" She whispers against your jawline.

You closed your eyes for a moment, giving the offer some thought, but you knew immediately it was going to be a no. Your overall feeling right now was just gross. Mentally and physically.

"Not right now, baby." You whispered, putting your hand over hers and rubbing her knuckles. "But I can definitely like- to you, if you want."

"No, that's okay." She says quietly, keeping a reassuring smile on her face. You press your lips against her cheek and then her lips.

"I'm sorry." You apologize, lacing your hand in hers and squeezing it softly.

"Don't apologize, I'm not upset." She squeezes your hand back and brings it to her lips to kiss your knuckles.

"I should probably go. I want to get out of here before Whitney is up." You say with a small laugh and Leighton smiles. She kisses you once more before pulling away with a small dramatic huff.

"I'll see you at twelve thirty then?" She asks, watching you get out of bed and strip off the clothes she lent you last night, digging through your bag to find the clothes you wore yesterday.

"I'll be waiting, but we have definitely got to stop at my room. I'm going to need to shower."

"I mean, I wasn't gonna say anything..." She says teasingly. Your face dropped and she laughed. "I'm just kidding. You don't stink. You just smell like you, but like sweaty. I like it. I don't know how to explain it, don't ask me to either." She rushes out, her cheeks turning pink with embarrassment.

"I'll let you leave this interaction unscathed...for now." You smile at her, slipping your socks on to your feet and crawling into bed, nudging your nose against hers. She connected your lips before you could, and you smile into the kiss. You pull away and kiss her one more time before pulling away and climbing off the bed. "I'll see you in a bit."

You shove your feet into your shoes and grab your bag and your phone. You shove your hand into your pockets and when you realize they're empty, your eyes widen.

You check your pockets again frantically, then your bag. Opening it and searching through it, mumbling under your breath.

"What's the matter?" Leighton asks, looking at you confused.

"Nothing, I uh, can't find something." You search the immediate area of the floor before falling to your hands and knees to give the ground a closer inspection. "Fuck." You mumble.

"What did you lose? I can help you find it." She said, about to get up.

"No, it's okay. I'm sure it's in my bag somewhere." You stand up, still searching the ground with your eyes, scratching your head. "I'll see you at twelve thirty, baby." You readjust your bag on your shoulder and leave her room, closing the door behind you.

You keep your eyes glued to the floor, searching for that small baggie of pills as you walked through the common area of their dorm room on high alert.

You heard some talking and shuffling coming from Whitney's room and she opened her door, her body still turned away because she was talking to Kimberly.

You abandoned your search. Opening and closing the door quickly and quietly and bolting from the dorm.

You made it to the field an hour before the normal scheduled practice, but right on time for the private sessions that your coach always insisted on you doing.

You changed into your clothes that you practice in, searching your bag and pockets on more time for the small baggie. You sighed in relief when you found it tucked in the corner of your bag, covered in protein bar crumbs and lint. You tucked it away safely in a smaller pocket for safe keeping's, already thinking about the fun you were going to have after practice with them.

Your coach had the field set up, a few soccer balls strewn around the field. He was nowhere in sight of course. That's how it always went. You did these sessions on your own, coach always saying that you didn't need him to tell you what to do and expecting you to just know.

The worst part was, even if he wasn't present he always knew if you tried to skip. You've tried twice and both times ended with you running around the pitch for the entire length of practice without any explanation to the other girls.

So you did your little drills and your practice shots for an extra hour every practice, already feeling practically exhausted by the time the other girls came for the actual practice.

Once the girls started filtering in, you began to slow down. They waited around patiently for the coach, talking and gossiping amongst each other.

Whitney didn't talk to you when she arrived, but she gave you a look that shot chills down your spine. You loved Whitney and thought you were always pretty good friends, but you were oftentimes always given the impression that she can see right through you and today was no different.

Coach finally arrived about twenty minutes late, which was unusual for him. He came in quietly this time, not his normal shouting, angry energy that he usually brought to the table.

"Listen up, everyone." He says politely and you all gather around him. "You will probably notice that Joanne isn't here today." He clears his throat. "There's been something rather unfortunate to happen. Joanne's younger brother, Donnie unfortunately suffered from an overdose last night and has passed away." He says with a nod and a frown. "I need you to all step up and be there for your teammate right now."

He continued talking, but it all just became muffled words to you. You wanted to think that maybe they weren't the same person, but you knew it wasn't true.

You recall having a conversation with him once about his name. That he preferred going by DJ instead of Donnie because it made him feel like he was that one kid from the Wild Thornberrys.

You zoned back in when the girls started clearing the field.

"Hey, come on. Practice is cancelled." Myra patted your shoulder to get you moving, but you felt stuck.

Whitney was walking backwards, her eyes glued to you and it just heightened that feeling you had of her seeing right through you.

You moved your feet, somehow, you got them moving. One in front of the other. You felt like you were on autopilot.

Your teammates talked quietly in the locker room, everyone wondering what happened and how. You had all the answers sitting on the tip of your tongue and you wanted to spew them off like you were giving confession in church.

All the girls talked about heading to a diner to get some breakfast together and you politely declined, saying you already had lunch plans with someone and you didn't want to be too full for those.

Which wasn't a lie at all.

Plus you had things to do beforehand. Take a shower, change your clothes. Things like that. At least, that's what you told them.

When you got back into your room, you pulled the small baggie from your gym bag, staring at it for a moment while having an internal struggle with yourself.

One of your friends just died. Probably from taking something like this specifically. But you felt like you had a better grip on yourself than he did. You weren't that addicted, not the way he was. Who knows if pills were even what he took. Liza probably introduced him to needles by then.

You had a better handle on it, you repeated to yourself while you swallowed two of them.

You didn't meet Leighton for lunch that afternoon.

#leighton murray x reader #leighton Murray x you #my fic

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