#start cheering and squeaking and shaking
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spinecurlingmice · 1 month ago
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hakjimeee jajimemee hajimee hajime ouuhh . ah god i love him LIKE. SOO much. So much. so.. much. hajime oh my god. hajime hinata ! my name is hajime hinata! our futures are ours! AHHHHHAHHAHAHAH starts tearing my fucking skin off
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kitten4sannie · 9 months ago
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backstage back shots with san ♡
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a/n: listennnnn im still fighting with writer’s block and it’s winning i’m not even gonna lie to you but …… COACHELLA SAN. i wrote this in twenty minutes so please don’t expect a full fledged masterpiece TT that being enjoy the brainrot babes <333
w.c: around 500 words
warnings: reader’s older in this (she’s their manager shjsdh), dom! san, possessiveness, dirty talk, semi public sex, tit play, unprotected sex, back shot
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Once San left that stage, he could feel his heart pounding against his glistening chest, his ears still ringing from the intense surge of adrenaline outlining his wired brain and body, and he could still hear their fans chanting and cheering for them, even as he made his way through the hectic backstage area. All of it concocted an invigorating mix of exhilaration inside San that he couldn’t shake. It almost bordered arousal.
It didn’t help when he saw you, Ateez’s precious manager, opening your arms up to him for a hug with a bright smile on your face, tears in your eyes, and an endless bout of praise leaving your pretty lips.
“I’m so, so proud of you, San…” you whispered into his ear, unaware of the state he was in, until you felt something hard pressing into your lower abdomen.
“How proud, Manager-nim?” he whispered back, running his fingers down along your waist, squeezing into them enough to make you squeak. “Do I deserve a reward?”
“A r-reward? I mean, of course you do, but…right here? Right now?”
San slowly led you backwards until you both were just barely out of sight of the event’s employees and your beloved coworkers. He rubbed his thumbs gently over your hips, angling his head down to see the way his hardened cock pressed into your body through his designer pants. “Right here…right now…”
You gulped, knowing everything about the situation was wrong, but you couldn’t help but to give in, like every time before.
-
San had you just how he liked, with your bare ass on full display for him, watching it bounce each time he pushed himself into you, groaning at the sensation of your hot cunt swallowing his cock up like you were made for him. You practically were, considering the way you always spread your legs for him, even as his boss. But, how could you say no?
San leaned forward, his bare, heated chest pressing heavily against your back, his throbbing cock hitting your sweet spot even easier at this new angle, resting his chin on your shoulder. He looked at you through the corner of his eyes, his lips quirked up into a knowing smirk. “Hey, Manager-nim. Whose pussy is this?”
“I-it’s yours, San,” you breathed out, feeling your cunt begin to squeeze around his length, your legs starting to grow weak underneath you.
“Yeah?” San perused, running his hands up under your disheveled clothes to grope at your tits, squeezing them in between his thick fingers, flicking and pulling at your nipples just to hear you try to hold back your pretty moans. “This cunt is all mine? Mine to fuck raw and fill with my load? Mine to use whenever I’d like, huh?”
Just as San’s filthy words left his mouth, you felt him go into overdrive, fucking into you so hard, you could hardly catch your breath, clawing at the walls of the backstage as an attempt to keep from completely losing yourself in the immense pleasure. “Yes, yes, yes…!” you cried out, knowing from the pleased groans and growls coming from San that you were creaming yourself on his rapidly moving cock.
“Fuck, that’s a good girl. You’re so filthy, Manager-nim…” San exhaled against your ear, dragging his tongue up along it, just as his body began to shudder and his rough thrusts were instead replaced by the slow, concentrated rolling of his hips. “Let me make you even filthier, okay?”
You looked back just in time to see him pull out and rest his thick cock against your ass, admiring his flushed, sweat-covered face, the way he could barely keep his eyes open, and the way his blazer was falling off of one of his broad shoulders. You didn’t look down until you began to feel something hot covering your lower back, watching as he painted the rest of your exposed skin and disheveled clothes with white.
San simply smiled back at you, running his fingers through his glistening hair to keep it from falling into his upturned eyes. “Thank you for the reward, Manager-nim. I’ll work even harder during the next stage because of you.”
You couldn’t help but smile back. “That’s wonderful to hear, San.” You shivered, suddenly feeling San’s load drip down your back and along your ass. “Now, if you don’t mind, could you help me clean this mess up?”
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Apply for the taglist here ⇢ ♡
© kitten4sannie, 2024.
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chiiyuuvv · 3 months ago
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understands ★
down bad!nicholas 1.5k words
notes! inspired by song linked in 'notes!' "i'll admit that i'm scared / 'cause i've never really cared as much as this / it's worth the risk" screamed nico so ofc i had to write about it. warning!! this is very delusional, read at your own risk
▸ 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘺?
“ta.. da..” nicholas pops out of his hiding place once he hears the rooftop double doors creak open. the huge grin plastered on his face shrinks to a shy smile, suddenly self-conscious now that you were in front of him. “hi..” he mumbles, the back of his neck suddenly itchy from embarrassment. 
“hi,” you breath out in shock, your eyes darting past flustered nicholas to scan the deck he decorated just for you. it seemed unlike his character to put so much care in an objective, a picnic blanket placed in the center of the area with pillows surrounding the perimeter. a speaker was placed to the far left of you, soft rnb echoing from the device. there wasn’t a need for any lights, the cloudless stars being your source to see. 
“do you like it?” nicholas’s voice releases the breath you didn’t even know you were holding, his chest pressed against your back as he drapes his arms around your waist. “i, um.. put a lot of time into it,” his deep chuckle rings in your ear, his chin resting on your shoulder. 
“why?” you turn in his embrace, your eyes widening at the lack of space between you. nicholas looks down at you as you look up, the sparkle in his stare brighter than any star in the sky. if you examine closely, the tips of his ears match his hair, the small smile still adoring his features. 
“you know..” he starts off timid, his voice small as his shoulders do a little shrug. “i just wanted to.. say thank you, for everything,” the way his voice trails off suggests there were more to his reasons, but for now, you nod in acknowledgement at his heartwarming gesture. 
“you didn’t have to,” your voice was as small as his as you pressed your head against his chest. he takes it as a sign to bring you closer, his fresh scent invading your nose.
“i had too,” he defends. you could only chuckle at how persistent the boy was being, especially after the incident. you always found it to be no big deal, unable to realize how much you changed the boys' world.
nicholas was upset.
the joyful cheers of your friends and their video games fade into nothing once the male prances past the living room and into his room, slamming his door with frustration. the commotion makes harua jump in his seat, you and taki sending worrisome looks at each other. “don’t mind him,” euijoo chimes, placing his controller on his lap as he shakes his head. “he just needs some space. anyways, who’s up for another round of mario kart?!” and just like that, the happy energy resumes like nothing happened. 
maybe it was your stubborn attitude telling you to do something after euijoo told you not to, but you found yourself in front of nicholas’s door moments after the boys passed out from their gaming.
“go away,” his voice was raspy compared to the soft knocks on his door.
“i brought some strawberries,” you squeak, still determined to make the male open the door. “i’m sorry if i’m being annoying, i just want to make sure you’re oka–” the door swung open before you could finish your sentence, hair covering nicholas’s sharp eyes as he looked down at you like you were some type of pest.
“if i take the food, would you leave me alone?” he sounded irritated, his words straight to the point.
“actually,” you give an awkward smile, “can i come in?”
nicholas was stressed.
“i feel like i’ve been trapped inside a box filled with impossible accomplishments, yet i have no one to turn to when i need help,” nicholas mutters, his head placed comfortably on your lap. you hum in response, giving him the opportunity to rant his heart out as your fingers comb his hair. “it feels so hard doing everything by myself.”
“who says you’re by yourself?” nicholas perks up at your words, your hands still in his hair as you give him a reassuring smile. “i’m sorry you feel so imprisoned, nico,” you begin, your hand sliding down to cup his cheek. your thumb rubs the skin. “it may not feel like a lot, but you have me to support you.”
“oh,” he breathes, shocked by your words. “thanks.”
nicholas was in love.
“are you good?” you turn your head to the boy in question, your elbow resting against the diner table. nicholas turns to face you with a smirk, jokingly raising an eyebrow. 
“what, i can’t laugh at what my own best friend is saying?” he teases, suddenly glad you were sitting on the same side so he could itch closer to your body. his heart skips a beat when you lean even closer, your noses centimeters from each other. 
“not when our nico sounds so cute!” yudai, the friend you forgot was accompanying you chimes. he leans his chin into his hands on the other side of the table, nicholas snapping his head to the older in annoyance.
“i’m not cute,” he nags, sending yudai a look. the boy only winks in return.
“yeah, you’re right!” you defend, playfully furrowing your brows at yudai as you wrap your arm around nicholas’s shoulder, bringing him closer to you. “you’re my cutie,” you giggle, pinching the boys cheek. unline how he reacted to yudai, nicholas keeps quiet, clearly flustered by your words. 
“but i’m wrong when i say the exact same thing,” yudai bellows, raising his hands in defeat. “favoritism!!” he says, loud enough to get looks from across the restaurant.
“you’ve put so much time and effort into me, the very least i can say is thank you,” you appreciated his words, but deep down you knew there was something more to nicholas’s actions. especially since he’s been acting so differently around you. the way his eyes linger onto yours, how his lovesick smiles appear as soon as you enter a room. he makes you feel warm inside, like you were so special to him. 
“you’re welcome but,” you stop to chuckle in disbelief, “no one sets up an entire date to show how grateful they are, nico. seriously, what’s all of this about? you’ve been acting so weird lately,” your fingers trace his jawline as you speak, determined to pry his mind apart.
“because i..” he stops to catch his breath, his heartbeat speeding up when he looks into your eyes. a hand lets go of your waist to interlock the fingers on his face, placing light pecks on the tips. “i’ve never felt like this before,” the boy finally opens up, squeezing your hand. “i never felt so carefree, so loved. you’ve taken me in like i was yours to begin with, you’ve been so sweet, so soft, so inviting. i can be myself without receiving any judgement, i can feel upset without having to be guilty about it. y/n, you help me realize that..”
“that?” you tilt your head, tears welling up at nicholas’s precious words. the boy keeps quiet, his nervousness getting the better of him. he feels as if he doesn’t deserve one drop of your undivided attention. you were an angel that flew from heaven who constantly put a smile on an unorganized guy like him. you had a life, yet you put it on pause to help regulate nicholas. all those late night calls filled with encouragement when you could have turned off your phone and went to bed, he didn’t know what it was that made him worthy of you. you were too good for him. 
he must do something to show how much he appreciates you, right? even if that meant rehearsing his confession for hours in front of a mirror after he got home from work, or turning his rooftop into something you’ve always dreamt about. although he was scared, he still thought you were worth the risk.
his eyes stay glued to yours as you stand in the tense silence. his heart speeds up again because god, you were so pretty. he hates that he’s come to this realization now. in a swift movement, his hands let go of your body to gently cup your cheeks, lifting your chin so now he had a straight shot at your lips. 
he licks his own in anticipation, your presence making his mind go blank, your soft breath erasing all the doubts in his head. he lets out a sigh before connecting your lips in a feverishly slow pace, his figure being sent to a world of bliss as your mouths move against each others. he starts to feel dizzy when you grip his shirt, pulling him closer like you were going to lose him if you didn’t. words couldn’t never express the amount of love you had for each other. 
letting go of your lips, his hands circle around your waist again, ducking his head to kiss the salty tears from your face. if it weren’t for your soft giggle, you would have heard the boy sniffle. he pushes your foreheads together, closing his eyes in bliss.
“you’re the only one who understands.”
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︴bonus! kinda got carried away, anyways i hope you enjoyed hehe
▸ taglist 📬 @cherrycolaberry , @wtfisgoingright . @slytherinshua , @luvnicho , @enhacolor , @lakoya
🎬 navi
@chiiyuuvv on tumblr . do not steal works/headers/line dividers
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wileys-russo · 2 months ago
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Alexia, “are you crying.” “No-“ “shh it’s ok” “I’m not cry-.” “Shh it’s okay mi amor.” Kitchen
cursed II a.putellas
"ale? amor can you take the washing out of the machine please." you heard the chime of the washer and called out, eyes scanning the recipe book propped up in front of you.
but when you glanced up they rolled seeing your girlfriend still engrossed in the football match on the tv. "ale. alexia!" you called again, a flick of her hand and a hum all you recieved in return.
with an annoyed huff you picked up a lemon, throwing it at her and watching as the blonde let out a yelp and almost fell off the sofa in shock. "hey! why are you throwing things at me tonta?" your girlfriend scowled holding up the lemon which had only bounced off the cushion beside her.
"because i called your name and you didn't answer, tonta!" you mocked. "can you go put the washing in the dryer please?" you repeated yourself, turning back to the pan on the stove, giving the mushrooms you were frying off a toss.
glancing over your shoulder you were appeased to see alexia no longer there, assuming she was doing as you'd asked. however when a couple of minutes later you heard the washer chime again in reminder.
"alexia?" you yelled out with a sigh, hearing your own name echoed back from the bedroom. "qué estás haciendo?" you questioned as you appeared in the doorway, your girlfriend sat down on the corner of the bed, the same football match playing on the tv that was still going in the living room.
"washing." she mumbled, pointing to the wicker basket in the corner of your room, her dirty laundry half hanging around it, eyes locked on the tv screen where the barcelona men were playing.
"i asked you to take the washing out of the machine, not- well no actually i did ask you to organise your washing but i asked you that this morning!" you realised with a roll of your eyes, the footballer merely humming clearly not listening.
"ale. are you listening?" you asked, another hum. "i am dying my hair blue." another hum, this time with a nod. "i am pregnant." another slow nod. "we are having a baby!" a dismissive wave.
"i am going to start supporting real madrid." "no en esta casa."
"you are listening!" you huffed after her last response, grabbing a throw pillow and smacking her in the side of the head, not missing the tiny smirk flashed your way before her gaze returned to the tv.
"do the washing!" you poked at her as she hummed, a squeal leaving your mouth as she trapped your wrists in her hands and tugged you down onto the bed.
"half time." the catalan hummed, gently patting your cheek and trying to lay down with you in her arms as you grunted and wriggled away. "no. now! it will smell bad if you leave it in there wet." you ordered, dodging her foot which shot out to try and push you out of the way as you stood in front of the tv.
"now putellas." you warned seriously as the blonde threw her head back with a groan, resembling that of a told off toddler as she hauled herself up, stomping off to the laundry with grumbles and glares.
"treinta años mi culo." you muttered under your breath, returning to the kitchen and sighing in relief that nothing had burned, moving the mushrooms off the heat and looking up as a loud cheer started.
"oh hijo de puta!" your girlfriend swore, kicking at the lounge as she skidded into the living room, dragging her hands down her face and swearing at the tv, shaking her hands around like a mad woman and yelling at the players as if they could hear her.
"you!" you were pulled from your thoughts again, a flick of your eyes upward meeting the midfielders which burned with passion, eyebrows knotted together in an angry frown.
"villareal scored when i was not watching, esto es culpa nuestra!" alexia accused, pointed finger outstretched at you making you snicker. "sí mi amor i waited till you left and ran onto the pitch through the tv and scored against barcelona." you pouted mockingly.
"eres una mujer maldita!" alexia grunted, a squeak sounding as she dropped herself unhappily back onto the couch, arms crossed and a permanent scowl etched into her face which made you chuckle as you started to prep the rest of the vegetables.
it was a few moments later that alexia heard it, half time called and her previous unfair grievance toward you settled, a sniffle.
but not just any sniffle, your sniffle.
the blondes head whipped upward, phone dropping from her hand and though you tried to hide it she didn't miss the way you reached up and wiped a few tears, hand covered by the hoodie sleeve covering your fingers.
in the blink of an eye she was up and on her feet, charging toward you and rounding the corner in milliseconds flat.
you tensed up and almost sliced off the tip of your finger feeling her taller form collide with yours, arms squeezing your mid section tightly and the smell of her favorite perfume invading and engulfing all of your senses.
"ale que-" you tried to ask, words smothered by her turning you around, hand on the back of your head and your face smooshed into her shoulder.
"are you crying?" "no-" "sshh it is ok." "i'm not cry-" "sshhh it's okay mi amor." your girlfriend cooed, hand stroking up and down your back as your face remained awkwardly pressed against her shoulder, hand still cradling your head.
"i'm not cry-" "are you upset i said you were cursed? i did not mean it mi vida, not at all." "cari i'm not-" "sshhh it is okay, let me hold you." "alexia i am not crying! i am chopping onions for dinner tu imbécil!"
"...oh."
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aurumalatus · 2 months ago
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𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐞 [𝟓]
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pairing. kinich x fem!reader
word count. 3.1k
genre/warnings. childhood friends to lovers, slow burn, fluff and angst, drabble collection, reader is mentioned to be wearing a dress, descriptions of blood and injury
summary.
in which kinich learns the value of all things: lives, friendship, and, of course, you. or, in which kinich realizes that you are the only priceless thing in this world.
author's note. the slow burn is burning... kinich is a little slow to the punch though LOL. this chapter talks about turnfire night, i took a lot of ~artistic liberty~ with the banquet and such so don't hate on me pls. there's a bit of angst in the next few chapters, i'm sorry HAHAHA. pls lmk what you guys think, it's very motivating! i hope you enjoy <3 reblogs/interaction highly appreciated!
↢ 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 | 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 ↣
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𝗦𝗜𝗟𝗘𝗡𝗖𝗘 𝗜𝗡 𝗧𝗛𝗜𝗦 𝗥𝗢𝗢𝗠 (𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗗𝗘𝗔𝗧𝗛 𝗢𝗙 𝗠𝗘)
At some point, the flowers start to speak your name.
Kinich isn’t sure when the idea took root in his mind—it had been slow for sure, a snail crawling over a branch. Living together makes you a perpetual presence in his life, a certainty like the rise of the sun and the glint of the stars. He finds comfort in that knowledge, but rarely thinks on it more than that.
The day he realizes it, the sun is a bright yolk in the sky, honey-yellow and shining dutifully upon his back. A layer of sweat plasters itself to his forehead, and he scrubs it away with his wrist, panting. For as many years as he’s been a farmer, the work hardly gets easier; it still leaves him sore and aching every day.
Across the field, the front door of your home swings open—it’s you that peeks out, waving. Kinich nods back in reply, gathering the vegetables in his basket and jogging back over to you. He frowns when he notices a dark spot on one of his carrots, vaguely noting that he should toss that one out later.
“I ran you a bath,” you offer, leaning halfway out the doorway. Kinich extends a half-smile in gratitude.
“Thanks,” he replies, holding the harvest out to you. You take the basket with a small ‘thank you’, placing it down on your feet. Usually, you would take the vegetables inside right away to wash and cut them, but today, you’re lingering—there’s something on your mind.
But Kinich is nothing if not patient, so he merely waits, arching a brow.
“It’s Turnfire Night,” you finally admit, hands clasped behind your back. “Elder Leik invited us to the banquet, if you’re keen on going.”
Surprised, Kinich glances over his crops. He’s just about done here for the day, and he doesn’t have anything on the to-do list for tonight anyway.
“Do you want to?”
You’re hesitating, likely out of shyness—he watches you rock back and forth on your heels.
“I think it’d be nice,” you reply, short. 
You’re trying not to force him, he realizes. You know how much he hates crowded things like that. And usually, you would be right, but he thinks back on the last time he’d visited the village. It’s been long enough, he decides, and one day wouldn’t kill him.
“Sure, we can go.”
Your disposition brightens instantly, nearly ascending with joy. 
“Really?” you squeak, hands drawing to your chest. He smiles and nods, shaking his head with amusement when you disappear back inside, cheering. You’re easy to please in a lot of ways.
Kinich takes you up on your offer of a warm bath, then prepares one for you as well. Gone are the days that the two of you washed up in the river—a nicer bathtub had been one of your earlier investments, and Kinich had grown to appreciate the blessings of a warm place to wash at the end of a long day. It does wonders for his aching muscles.
Over the years, Kinich’s house had slowly grown into a home, right under his nose. Your presence had been a driving force in that process.
While his hair dries, he’s in the kitchen organizing a few of the cupboards when you emerge from your bath, footsteps quietly padding against the floor. You call his name, voice thin and uncertain. When he turns, his heart squeezes.
You’re wearing a lovely dress, a forest green with golden accents—he briefly notes that it matches his eyes, then wonders if you had chosen that on purpose. The thought leaves his head foggy.
“What do you think?” you ask shyly, giving a small twirl. Kinich’s gaze follows the flow of your skirt, the liveliness of it. He’s never seen you dressed up like this in all his years of knowing you, and the sight makes something take root in his chest. “I bought it at the market a while ago, just in case.”
There’s a beat of silence, but it doesn’t sit for long.
“It looks nice,” is all that crawls from his throat, thick. The words sound awkward from his lips, he thinks harshly. A heated flush surges up his neck, curling around his ears and resting there. You practically glow at his response, clapping to yourself. 
“I got something for you too,” you sing, disappearing into the bedroom. Kinich waits patiently until you return, gesturing for him to close his eyes. He indulges you, and it’s a few seconds before something soft brushes at his forehead, pushing his bangs aside.
A bandana.
When his vision returns, you’re standing inches away from his face—his breath hitches at the proximity. Your gaze is searching as it meets his, your lip twitching at the edge. The excitement nearly pours off of you in waves. 
You’re staring.
Kinich’s fingers brush his own cheek, self-conscious. “What is it?”
You lean impossibly closer.
“Nothing,” you hum, happy as a clam. “I just think it makes your eyes look even prettier.” 
You’ve always told him how much you love his eyes, the starburst of jade and gold. You have a tendency to notice things about him that no one else does.
“Does it look nice?” he asks quietly, thumbing at the cloth. He would recognize a product of your weaving anywhere—you must’ve been working on this for a while now. He wonders when you found the time, or even how you managed to do it without him noticing.
You nod, a fond smile gracing your face. “You look really handsome.”
Kinich feels a touch of jealousy at the ease with which the words seem to fall from your lips. Sometimes, he wishes he could speak his mind the way you do. He doesn’t usually hold back in his words—most people he interacts with can attest to that—but when it comes to you, his tongue grows heavy in his mouth.
Still, the idea that you think he looks handsome is…nice.
“Thank you,” he breathes.
You turn and skip back into the bedroom, calling over your shoulder about how the two of you should leave soon. He watches you leave, the dress flowing like silk over your form. He swallows.
It’s really, really nice.
Later on, Kinich holds you close as the two of you grapple toward the village, mountains and trees racing past you. Your giggles are warm against his ear; you love traveling like this, the adrenaline that pulses through your veins. Winking dots of light are already visible in the distance, a rousing cheer reaching your ears—the festivities have already started.
He lands neatly on one of the wooden walkways, taking in the scenery. The village is decorated with bright streamers and vases of blooming flowers, crowds of people maneuvering around the party. You maintain your grip on Kinich’s hand, unwilling to lose him in the crowd.
Two taller figures emerge from the swathe of people, greeting you by name. 
“Have you two been taking care?” Elder Leik asks warmly, Chief Wayna smiling at his side. The elders are concerned for the two of you, Kinich knows; they’ve tried many times to convince you to move back to the village. Their efforts slowly ceased as the two of you grew older—you’ve always been steadfast in your independence.
You nod enthusiastically. “We’ve been doing really well! Everyone’s seeking out Kinich’s work.”
Your compliment makes him feel a bit embarrassed—he feels an urge to deny it, but the elders only laugh and congratulate him, ruffling at his hair. He does feel a bit satisfied that they recognize his strength.
“That’s great,” Chief Wayna replies, genuine. “Just remember you can always come to us if you ever need anything. But also make sure you enjoy the party!”
He leaves the two of you with a wink, fading into the crowd, and you take the opportunity to grasp at Kinich’s hand, pulling him along. You’re the most excited person there, truly in awe of everything.
Kinich indulges in some of the food, laughing at the gusto with which you scarf down your own—he chuckles as he wipes crumbs away from your cheeks. Everyone’s spirits are high; the music is loud and roaring, an electrifying song that Kinich can feel in his veins. You perk up at the sound.
“Kin, can we dance?” you beg, eyes bright and lips pouted. 
He glances around. Really, he doesn’t want to, especially not in front of all of these people. But the music is slowing, and Kinich can never say no to you, so he sighs, pulling you close and placing a cursory hand at your waist.
“Is this good?” he asks, a murmur. You hum in content, resting your head at his shoulder.
“It’s great.”
A permanent grin seems to have plastered itself over your lips. Kinich absently thinks that it makes you look so much more beautiful—a flower in bloom.
“You’re really happy today,” he comments.
Your eyes flutter shut, delighted.
“I’m happy you wanted to come with me. And I was happy that you liked my dress, and that you liked the headband I wove for you. I’m just happy.”
A deep yearning fills Kinich’s chest at the feather-softness of your voice—he feels an urge to hide you away. Somehow, he wants this side of you to only be for him.
“I did really like it,” he confirms. “The headband, and…everything else.”
He likes spending time with you, he likes your dress, and he likes the warmth that permeates his body when you hold him like this. Everything else seems to fade into nothingness.
For a while, the two of you talk about nothing and everything. It’s a truly peaceful existence. Kinich tries to remember if he’s ever been to a Turnfire Night like this before; the last time he’d attended, he’d likely been too young to even remember the event. You just have a way of replacing his darker memories with pleasant ones.
The beat of the music picks up again, and Kinich feels an instant chill when you lift your head from his shoulder. Still, he sways to the music with you, smiling when you start to sing along to the energetic song.
“You’re a good dancer,” you observe, in awe. Kinich shrugs, smoothly spinning you again.
“It’s not that hard.”
Dancing with you is actually fun, he realizes despite his initial hesitation. Your laughter fades with the passing wind, dissipating into the night, and he can’t help but stare at the way the torchlight glimmers against your skin.
The two of you celebrate until the music dies to silence, until people start to yawn and retire to bed. By this time, the sun is already peeking in the distance, barely a whisper of light reaching you. 
Kinich carries you home, soft snores echoing from your place on his back—he decides he won’t tease you about it later.
Instead, he promises himself that he’ll keep taking you to Turnfire Night every year after.
(Then, he promises himself that he’ll always protect your smile.)
/
By the time he cries for the first time, Kinich is fifteen.
He feels that he knows the way the world works now—those with strength, with value, survive. It’s not that he has any interest in being one of the rich ones with towering houses that line the cliffside. Really, all he needs to be satisfied is a comfortable life with you at the foot of the mountain. And his needs—things like clothes and food—come with Mora, so he makes Mora. It’s a simple existence.
He spends more time with you. Slowly but surely, he starts to bring you on jobs and hunts with him. You’re eager to learn about the work he does, and even more excited to help—your medical knowledge does tend to make things go faster. Still, he feels extra layers of anxiety whenever he knows you’re coming along, his grip drawing tighter around his sword.
It comes on a day like any other.
At first, it doesn’t seem like a particularly difficult job—it’s a run-of-the-mill request, to subdue a Saurian that’s been attacking travelers near the village. Even still, Kinich is as thorough as always in the days leading up to the job, and you let him take the lead. He’s strict about these things when you come along, and you know better than to distract him.
The day of, the two of you encounter the Saurian in a clearing adjacent to the road. It’s sick, you mention quietly, hidden in the foliage nearby—it’s foaming at the mouth, erratic in its movements. Kinich mumbles back his agreement.
It starts to peck at the poisoned berries he’d left for it, movements slowing. He counts down the minutes—at this point, it should be incapacitated enough for the kill.
It’s only when Kinich creeps up behind it, greatsword in hand, that he realizes he’d been wrong. The Saurian seems to switch at the last second, beady eyes burning as it poises to strike. Kinich barely blocks the attack with the flat of his blade, teeth gritted.
“Kinich!” you cry out, running to his side. The Saurian perks up at the sound, tense.
Kinich’s eyes widen. “Wait, don’t come—”
It’s too late. The Saurian’s claw catches you in the stomach as it whips around, sending you flying.
A sickening crack echoes when your back smacks against a rock—you crumple to the dirt, hunched over. A cold breath hisses between Kinich’s teeth as he screams your name.
The Saurian doesn’t last much longer than that, not that he really remembers any of it. He swings his sword, cutting and slicing, sounds of battle piercing the air. It’s only when he sprints to your side that he returns to his senses.
A harsh gash is ripped through your shirt and the skin beneath, a pool of crimson already gathering on your stomach. The sight brings bile crawling up his throat.
“Kin…”
Your voice is weak, and Kinich hushes you quickly, an urge to save your strength. A striking fear has his blood freezing in his veins—he remembers his father’s corpse. Terror hovers over his body, leaving him breathless. He intertwines his fingers with yours, pressing the back of your hand to his lips. 
“That hurt,” you mumble, a touch of humor in your tone even now. “I’m tired.”
Your eyelids are heavy, stare unfocused. 
“Don’t close your eyes!” he demands. He palms at your cheek lightly, willing you to stay awake. It’s unlike him, the desperation in his voice. “Didn’t you say you’d always be by my side?”
You chuckle, a line of blood dripping down your chin. Kinich thumbs it away.
“I said that when we were kids, silly.”
He swallows, throat bobbing. Your eyes follow the motion unconsciously.
“We’re still kids.” 
His voice cracks as he says it, like his words can’t bear the brunt of their meaning. Your heart pulses, a burst of adrenaline coursing through you at his rare show of emotion. It’s only a moment, because the pain returns milliseconds later and a groan escapes your chest. 
Quickly, Kinich pulls his headband off, sliding it between his teeth to hold while he pulls the flask of water from his belt. He sets about cleaning your wound, gentle, but the stress is evident in his expression. His hands are shaking; you can feel the tremble against your skin as he eases your shirt up.
“It’ll be okay,” he breathes. Even he is unsure if he’s speaking to you or himself. You nod weakly.
“It’ll be okay, Kin.” You cough, and something in Kinich’s chest snaps when a spray of blood splatters over the hem of his shirt. A spray of your blood. “Don’t worry, okay?”
He can’t even really hear you anymore. He’s staring at the crimson mist, wondering how this had even happened. He’d assumed he was strong enough—strong enough to do this job, strong enough to protect you—and he had been wrong. There must’ve been an error in his calculations, or maybe he hadn’t prepared enough. 
He fastens his headband around your wound, stemming the blood flow. It’s almost an out-of-body experience—he hardly even recognizes the hands as his.
He’d gotten too comfortable, and you had paid the price.
Those with strength survive, but that day brings a sobering realization—Kinich is far weaker than he thought.
A cold tear slides down his cheek as he carries you home. 
You’re sniffling in pain at each step, the movement irritating your wound, and Kinich feels truly helpless. All he can do is whisper promises and apologies, that he’s sorry it happened and that he promises everything will be okay. It almost feels worse that you don’t seem to blame him at all—you’re apologizing too, telling him you’re sorry for being a burden on his job.
“You’re never a burden,” he spits. It comes out harsher than intended, so he sighs, softening. “You could never be a burden to me.”
You don’t reply.
A thick lump lodges itself in his throat as he feels your blood soak through the back of his shirt. It all almost feels unreal—he feels like he could return home to your warmth and smile and everything would be okay. You have a way of making everything okay.
“We’re almost there, okay?” he murmurs. You’re sweating from the pain, sticky against his skin. “Just stay with me.”
The house feels unnaturally cold when he kicks the door open. 
By the time he has your wound properly wrapped, the sun is gone, a distant memory. He sets you down in bed, pulling the blanket up to your chin—you’re already asleep, but your expression is unpleasant, tortured. You must be in pain, even in your dreams.
The thought makes him sick.
With a sigh, he stumbles out of the bedroom, collapsing onto the couch. His hands are still shaking from overuse and exhaustion. He’s not used to the tedious movements anymore like you are—you’re always the one patching him up these days.
A vase sits on the table. It’s full of Saurian Claw Succulents—you’d planted them yourself, cheery at the prospect of decorating the house a bit more. Kinich plucks one of the flowers from the vase by the thin stem, vacantly inspecting each petal.
He wonders what he has to change.
Those with strength survive. Kinich wants to survive. He wants to survive and live his days out with you.
But he’s not strong enough. If you can’t smile at his side, what good is he at all?
Your labored breathing is audible from the other room, the sound grating against his ears. If he had a Vision, or some other kind of power, things might’ve been different. If he had just been stronger—
He thinks back on his younger self, on his innocence, on his weakness. He’d discarded that side of himself long ago in favor of something more powerful, in favor of someone who could protect and take care of you.
There’s no turning back now, he thinks.
The stem snaps under his fingers, under the weight of it all, previous gentleness gone.
425 notes · View notes
goldfades · 3 months ago
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𝐈'𝐋𝐋 𝐃𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐊 𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐊, 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐈'𝐌 𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐇 / 𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐌 𝐒𝐌𝐎𝐊𝐈𝐍' 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐉𝐎𝐊𝐄𝐒 𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐃𝐀𝐌𝐍 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 ─ PB⁵
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TRACK 22 ─── SO HIGH SCHOOL
TTPD CELLY MASTERLIST !
౨ৎ ─ summary | you've been dating paige for a few months, and as your relationship deepens, the playful tension and shared moments of affection—whether it's her teasing touches during late-night gaming or her sweet gestures off the court—make you fall for her even harder, feeling like the luckiest person in the world. paige effortlessly blends her fierce athleticism with her soft, caring side, reminding you every day why you adore her
─ word count | 4.7k
─ warnings | nsfw (mdni) with lots of plot, light descriptions of fingering (reader receiving) while kk and ice r in the room, fluffy nonetheless! absolute cuteness and pretty light and sweet, slight hurt/comfort, ummmm nothing else im pretty sure
─ ev's notes | the long awaited so high school fic !!!!! and im back in the paige buckets era ! i hope everyone enjoys this as a part of my very late continuation of my ttpd masterlist
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You’ve been dating Paige for a couple of months now, and somehow, everything still feels brand new. Each time you’re with her, it’s like your heart never quite learned to stop fluttering. She’s become the center of your world, and while things got serious between the two of you quickly, it feels just right—like you’ve found something rare. Something special.
You sit on the bleachers, watching Paige at practice. The squeak of sneakers on hardwood echoes through the gym as her team runs drills, but your focus is all on her—her sharp movements, the way she commands the court with such ease. You catch her looking over at you from time to time, and each time, you can’t help but grin. Paige grins back, shaking her head, as if she knows she’s getting distracted but can’t help it.
As practice winds down, you make your way down to the court. Paige jogs over, her face flushed from exertion, but there’s that familiar spark in her eyes when she sees you. “You’re trouble, you know that?” she says, laughing as she wipes sweat from her forehead.
“Oh yeah? How so?”
“You’re all I could think about today. Coach is probably going to kill me for zoning out so much.”
You smirk, leaning closer. “Glad to know I’m getting in your head, Bueckers.”
Later, in her dorm, the two of you are sprawled out on her bed, just talking. The conversation drifts to your first impressions of each other, and you start reminiscing about how you always dreamed of dating someone like her back in high school.
“You know,” you begin, eyes tracing the ceiling as you talk, “I used to fantasize about dating someone on the basketball team. Like, I wanted to be that person who wore their jersey on game days, made posters, and cheered them on from the front row. But... I never got to do any of that.”
Paige is quiet for a moment, but you can feel her eyes on you. When you glance over, she’s smiling—soft, thoughtful. “Why not?”
“I don’t know, I guess I never had the chance. It was always just a daydream.”
Paige sits up, crossing her legs as she reaches for something. You watch as she pulls out one of her jerseys from a drawer and holds it out to you. “Well,” she says, her voice playful but sincere, “now you can.”
Your heart skips a beat. “Seriously?”
“Yeah, seriously. Wear it to the next game. Make a poster if you want. Go all out.”
You take the jersey from her, the fabric soft and warm in your hands, and your smile grows impossibly wide. “You’re gonna regret this,” you tease, already imagining the scene in your head.
“Not a chance,” she replies, leaning over to kiss your cheek. “I can’t wait to see it.”
───
It’s been a rough day. That exam you’d been stressing over for weeks didn’t go the way you’d hoped, and the weight of it presses down on you as you slump into the chair in Paige’s dorm. You’re quiet, distracted, the disappointment gnawing at you, and Paige notices immediately.
“Hey,” she says softly, her voice cutting through the fog in your mind. “You okay?”
You try to smile, shrugging it off. “Yeah, just... had a bad exam. It’s fine.”
But Paige knows you better than that.
She doesn’t push, just crosses the room with that easy grace she always has, sitting down beside you. Her presence alone feels like a comfort, like a steadying force in the middle of your chaos. She reaches for your hand, her fingers warm as they intertwine with yours.
“Talk to me, baby.” She says gently.
You sigh, running your free hand through your hair. “I just—I don’t know. I thought I had it. I studied, I worked so hard, and still… it wasn’t enough.” Your voice cracks a little at the end, and you hate how vulnerable it sounds, how it feels like everything you’ve been holding together is coming undone in front of her.
Paige shifts closer, her hand giving yours a reassuring squeeze. “I get it,” she murmurs, her tone soft but strong. “But one bad exam doesn’t change anything. You’re still amazing, and you’re still working your ass off. You’re going to be okay.”
Her words settle over you like a blanket, warm and steady, but it’s not just what she’s saying—it’s how she’s saying it. Like she believes in you so fully, even when you don’t believe in yourself. You glance up, meeting her blue eyes, and there’s nothing but sincerity there, nothing but love.
Paige shifts again, her hand moving to your back, tracing gentle circles between your shoulder blades. The touch is tender, unhurried, and it’s enough to ease some of the tightness in your chest. She leans in, pressing her forehead to yours. “I’m proud of you, baby. No matter what.”
The words hit you deep, and you feel a lump forming in your throat. You close your eyes, letting the warmth of her touch and her presence sink into you. For a moment, the disappointment fades, replaced by this quiet moment between the two of you. Paige’s breath is warm against your skin, her fingers steady as they trail up and down your back, grounding you.
“I don’t deserve you,” you murmur, the words slipping out before you can stop them.
Paige pulls back just enough to look at you, her brow furrowing slightly. “Don’t say that.” Her voice is firm, but there’s a softness to it. She leans in, kissing the corner of your mouth. “You deserve everything. You’re strong, and kind, and... I love you. That’s not changing because of some exam.”
The way she says it, the way her voice wraps around those three words, makes your heart swell. You’ve heard her say it before, but right now, in this moment, it feels like an anchor, pulling you out of the spiral of doubt and frustration.
You nod, swallowing hard, and Paige gives you a small, comforting smile before pulling you into her arms. You let yourself melt into her, your head resting on her shoulder as she holds you close. She smells like clean laundry and faintly of the gym, but to you, it’s the most comforting scent in the world.
She rubs your back in slow, soothing motions, her lips brushing against your temple. “I’m here, okay? Always.”
And somehow, with her arms around you and her quiet reassurances in your ear, the weight on your chest feels lighter. Not gone, but manageable. You sigh, feeling the tension leave your body, and you press a soft kiss to her collarbone in silent gratitude.
“Thank you,” you whisper, your voice barely audible.
Paige just holds you tighter, her cheek resting against your hair. “Always,” she repeats softly, her fingers tracing slow, calming lines along your arm. And in that moment, wrapped up in her warmth and her love, the world doesn’t feel quite as heavy anymore.
───
"KK, you’re so shit." Ice yells, her voice cutting through the room as she throws her controller down dramatically. “How did you let me get sniped like that?”
KK rolls her eyes, her fingers still flying over the buttons. “Maybe if you weren’t running out in the open like a sitting duck, you’d be alive.”
Laughter erupts from the room, Paige chuckling beside you as her character jumps off a cliff in-game to make a quick escape. You sit close to her, legs tucked up under a blanket the two of you are sharing, your shoulder pressed against hers. The warmth of the blanket is nothing compared to the heat radiating between you, especially with how Paige’s arm occasionally brushes against yours, each touch sparking something that neither of you has addressed yet.
Paige lets out a low groan as her avatar gets eliminated. “Ugh, we’re so cooked.”
“You mean you’re cooked,” Ice teases, grinning as she watches the screen. “You keep getting distracted.”
You catch Paige’s eyes flicker toward you for a split second before she responds. “Whatever.”
Her teammates continue talking trash, but you barely hear them. Your focus has shifted, drawn completely to the way Paige leans just a little closer under the blanket, her thigh brushing against yours. It’s such a small, innocent touch, but it sends a shiver down your spine. The game blares from the screen, but all you can think about is how warm her skin feels against you, how every accidental nudge feels deliberate.
You shift slightly, adjusting the blanket, and in doing so, your fingers graze the side of her leg. Paige freezes for a split second, her hand still hovering over the controller, but then she clears her throat, refocusing on the screen in front of her. You glance at her from the corner of your eye and catch the slightest smirk playing on her lips.
“Okay, okay, I’m going full beast mode now,” Paige says, her voice low but filled with a new kind of energy. She’s leaning forward a little, but not enough to break the connection between you two. Her elbow brushes against your side again, and this time, it feels intentional.
KK, still playing, laughs. “Paige, you’re always full beast mode. You just suck tonight.”
“Shut up,” Paige mutters, her concentration slipping again as her fingers falter over the controls. She shifts back against the couch, her body pressing closer to yours, the tension between you almost tangible now. Her hand, resting on her lap, is so close to yours that you can feel the faintest brush of her knuckles.
You bite your lip, trying to stay focused on the game, or at least pretending to, but all you can feel is her presence, the way her body seems to gravitate toward yours. The noise of the room fades, the sounds of Ice and KK's bickering becoming background chatter as your attention zeroes in on Paige.
She’s pretending like she’s completely immersed in the game, but you know better. Her eyes flicker toward you again, the slightest glance, and her leg presses a little more firmly against yours, a silent acknowledgment of what’s brewing between you. The blanket covering you feels like it’s trapping heat, your heart beating faster, and you wonder if Paige can feel it too.
Without thinking, you shift again, this time allowing your fingers to brush more deliberately against her thigh. Paige’s breath hitches, almost imperceptibly, and she doesn’t pull away. Instead, she leans into the touch, her fingers tightening around the controller for a moment before she exhales slowly, the tension between you both crackling like static.
KK and Ice are still yelling about something on the screen, but you and Paige are in your own little bubble now. The blanket has become a shield, a cover for the way her pinky brushes against yours, so subtle but charged with meaning. You steal a glance at her face and see the way her lips part, her focus entirely split between the game and you now.
Paige shifts again, and this time, her knee nudges yours beneath the blanket. She doesn’t say anything, but her eyes flicker toward you once more, the corner of her mouth quirking up in a barely-there smile. There’s a challenge in her eyes, something playful but undeniably electric.
"Nice shot, P!" KK shouts suddenly, breaking the moment for just a second. Paige barely reacts, just lets out a breathy laugh, and you can tell she’s trying not to get too lost in the moment with you sitting so close.
“Yeah, uh, thanks,” Paige says, still distracted, her eyes darting to yours as her pinky hooks slightly around yours, hidden beneath the blanket.
The tension between you is thick now, unspoken but undeniable. The game continues on the screen, but neither of you is paying attention anymore. All you can think about is the heat radiating from her body, the way her touch lingers on yours like it’s the only thing grounding you both in this moment. The air feels heavy with something unspoken, something waiting to be acknowledged.
Your breath catches, and you wonder if she’s going to make a move or if she’s waiting for you to. The game blares on, Ice and KK oblivious, but for you and Paige, everything else has faded into the background.
As the game continues to play out on the screen, Paige’s hand slowly slips from where it’s resting on her lap, her fingers brushing against your thigh under the blanket. At first, the touch is light, almost casual, but you feel a spark shoot through you the moment her fingertips make contact with your skin. It sends your heart into overdrive, your breath catching in your throat as she presses her hand more firmly against you.
Neither of you speaks, but you can feel the weight of what’s happening between you.
Paige’s fingers begin to trace slow, deliberate patterns along your thigh, her touch warm and teasing. The movement is subtle, careful to avoid drawing attention from KK and Ice, who are still caught up in their game, oblivious to the tension building just inches away from them.
Your body tenses for a moment, a mix of anticipation and excitement making it hard to focus on anything but the sensation of Paige’s hand. She keeps her eyes fixed on the screen, her face perfectly composed, but there’s a small, knowing smile tugging at the corner of her mouth, like she’s fully aware of the effect she’s having on you.
Her hand moves higher, inch by inch, fingers trailing upward with agonizing slowness. You bite your lip, trying to keep your breathing steady, but the closer her hand gets to your warmth, the harder it becomes to maintain your composure. The heat between you grows, thick and undeniable, and you feel your body instinctively shifting closer to hers, wanting more of her touch.
Paige’s hand pauses just above your shorts, her thumb rubbing small circles against your skin, testing the waters. She doesn’t look at you, but the tension between you both is palpable, her fingers creeping higher as the blanket shields you from prying eyes. Your breath hitches, and you can’t help but glance down, watching the way her hand moves slowly, possessively.
“Paige,” you murmur softly, barely above a whisper, your voice shaky with the building tension.
She finally turns her head slightly, her eyes meeting yours for the briefest moment, dark and full of something that makes your stomach flip.
Her lips twitch into a small, teasing smile as her fingers slide just a bit higher, dangerously close to your underwear now. “Shh, can you be quiet for me?” she whispers back, her voice low and laced with amusement, like she’s enjoying this game more than the one on the screen.
Your pulse races as you nod, your skin tingling under her touch, and the blanket feels impossibly heavy now. Paige’s fingers linger at the edge of your thigh, just shy of where you want her to go, her hand warm and steady, teasing you.
The room around you feels like a distant blur, KK and Ice’s laughter barely registering in your ears as all your focus narrows down to the way Paige’s hand feels against your thigh. Every second drags on, the slow burn of anticipation making your heart pound in your chest. You shift slightly, your leg brushing against hers, and the movement draws a soft hum from her, her thumb pressing just a little harder into your skin.
You can’t help it—the tension between you both is too thick, too intoxicating. Paige’s hand moves higher again, her fingers creeping closer and closer, sending a rush of heat through you. You swallow hard, your breath coming quicker now, and she glances at you from the corner of her eye, her smirk deepening.
Her hand stills, fingers resting just shy of where you’re aching for her to touch, and she leans in ever so slightly, her lips close to your ear as she whispers, “You okay?”
The teasing lilt in her voice makes your pulse race even faster, and you nod, barely able to form a coherent thought with the way she’s making you feel. “Yeah,” you breathe out, your voice shaky.
Just as the word left your mouth, Paige slid her hands all the way up to your clothed pussy. Your breath hitched, head falling back on the couch. Paige let out a small laugh, shaking her head as she averts her gaze back to the game.
Then, she slowly moves your underwear out of the way and dips her finger in your wet cunt. You let out a gasp, causing KK to glance toward you and Paige.
“You okay, Y/N?” KK asks.
You quickly clear your throat, trying to regain some semblance of composure as KK’s eyes shift from the screen to the two of you. Paige’s hand immediately stills but she doesn’t move it away, her fingers warm and firm inside of you.
You feel your pulse pounding in your ears, the rush of heat in your cheeks impossible to hide. “Yeah, I’m good,” you manage to say, forcing a smile. “Just… uh, got a little startled by the game.”
KK narrows her eyes for a second, glancing between you and Paige but doesn’t seem to notice anything amiss. She shrugs and turns back to her screen. “You’re not even playing, Y/N. How are you getting scared?”
Ice laughs, chiming in without looking away from the screen. “Right? You’re just over there chilling while Paige’s getting absolutely wrecked.”
You let out a nervous laugh, the tension in your chest winding even tighter as Paige's finger begins moving deeper inside of you, biting your lip to stifle your sounds. You’re trying your hardest to act casual, but Paige is making it impossible to focus on anything else.
Paige leans a little closer to you, her voice low and teasing as she speaks just for you to hear. “See what you do to me?” she whispers, her breath hot against your ear.
Your stomach flips, the sensation of her words paired with the way her finger is still inside you, making it harder to keep your breathing steady. Your heart is hammering, and all you can think about is where her fingers are, how much you want them to keep moving.
As if she was reading your thoughts, she began moving her finger in and out of you slowly, making you let out a sharp gasp before covering it with a cough. You glare at Paige, trying to gauge how much of this is intentional and how much of it is just her toying with you. The playful glint in her eyes tells you everything. She knows exactly what she’s doing, and she’s enjoying every second of it. Paige’s lips quirk into a small, knowing smile, her gaze dipping to your lips for just a fraction of a second before she pulls back slightly, pretending to refocus on the game.
“You good, baby?”
“Shut up,” you mumble back as Paige raises her eyebrows, her finger stopping.
“Oh really?” Paige mumbles before you sigh, looking at her again with pleading eyes.
Ice, oblivious to the simmering tension between you and Paige, shouts as her character takes another hit. “Come on, Paige! You’re supposed to be carrying us right now!”
Paige chuckles, leaning back into the couch, but her finger doesn't leave you. If anything, her finger curl just a bit, and she casts you a quick glance from the corner of her eye. You shift under the blanket, trying not to draw any more attention to yourself, but the way she’s touching you makes your body buzz. She finally begins moving her finger in and out of you again, her movements sharp and increasing in speed.
“You okay over there?” Paige asks again, her voice low and intimate, sending another rush of heat through you. Her question is laced with double meaning, and she knows it.
You bite your lip, glancing toward KK and Ice, who are still fully engrossed in the game, before whispering back, “I’m not so sure.”
Paige’s smirk grows wider, her finger practically slamming into you at this point. “You don’t look okay.”
You squeeze your eyes shut, letting out another quiet sigh. You're glad that KK and Ice are so engrossed or else, you both would've gotten caught so quick. Paige added another finger into your wetness, practically fucking you at this point. You felt that familiar knot in your lower stomach, your thighs squeezing together─however, Paige's hand forces them open.
Just as the knot snaps, Ice’s loud shout suddenly breaks through the moment. “YES! Finally got that dub!”
You were breathing heavily as you came down from the high, your head falling back onto the couch in exhaustion. KK and Ice cheers, the room filled with excited energy, and Paige finally pulls her fingers away, the absence of her touch leaving your skin tingling. She sits back, grinning like nothing had just happened, completely composed while you’re left trying to catch your breath.
“About time,” Paige laughs, tossing her controller onto the table. She stretches, her arm casually draping across the back of the couch behind you as the others celebrate their win. Her fingers brush lightly against your shoulder, and you glance at her, your heart still racing, as she gives you a subtle wink.
───
The day of the game arrives, and the energy around campus feels electric. You've been anticipating this for days, ever since Paige handed you her jersey and encouraged you to go all out. You weren't sure if she was serious at first, but when you saw the glint of excitement in her eyes, you knew she meant it.
So, you spent the night before working on a poster, trying to make it perfect. The bold letters of her name stand out against the glittering background, and you added a few extra touches—hearts, basketball doodles, a playful nickname you call her when no one’s listening that she swears she hated (her blushing pink cheeks beg to differ).
Now, you’re standing in front of the mirror, her jersey slipping over your shoulders, fitting perfectly. It’s loose and comfortable, and the weight of it feels significant—like you’re carrying a part of her with you. You smooth it out, glancing at your reflection. The deep blue of the fabric contrasts against your skin, and the bold “BUECKERS” across the back makes you feel like you’re stepping into a role you were always meant to play. Your heart races, a mix of excitement and nerves bubbling in your chest.
When you finally make your way to the gym, the crowd is already forming, a sea of people moving toward the bleachers. You clutch the poster in your hands, trying to keep it from bending as you navigate through the packed hallways. With each step, your anticipation builds, thinking about how Paige will react when she sees you. You find a spot close to the front, just behind the benches, and settle in, your fingers gripping the edge of the poster as you wait for the game to begin.
The gym fills quickly, the hum of conversations mixing with the squeak of shoes and the sharp dribble of basketballs on hardwood. You scan the court, searching for her, and then—there she is. Paige steps onto the floor with her team for warmups, her long stride purposeful, her gaze focused. She’s all business right now, the way she always is before a game, completely locked in.
You catch her looking up into the stands, scanning the crowd, and then her eyes find yours. Even from a distance, you can see the instant change in her expression. Her lips twitch into a grin, her eyes lighting up like the sun breaking through clouds. You hold up the poster, and the smile that spreads across her face is worth every second you spent making it.
Paige stops in the middle of the court, her teammates laughing and calling her name, but she’s not paying attention to any of them. She’s looking at you. For a second, it’s like the entire gym falls away, and it’s just the two of you in that moment—her in her uniform, her jersey number flashing as she moves, and you in the stands, proudly wearing her name on your back. You lift the poster higher, grinning so wide your cheeks hurt, and she shakes her head, laughing as she mouths something to you.
You think she says, you're crazy, but the look on her face says otherwise. She’s completely smitten, and it shows in every inch of her expression.
Warmups end, and the game is about to start. The lights in the gym dim slightly, and the crowd roars as the players take their positions on the court. Your heart pounds in your chest, excitement thrumming through your veins. You’ve been to her games before, but this time feels different. This time, you’re not just a spectator. You’re part of it—you’re part of her.
As the game progresses, you cheer louder than you ever have, your voice raw from shouting her name, your arms aching from holding up the poster for so long. But none of that matters. You’re so caught up in the game, in every pass, every shot, every steal Paige makes. She’s everywhere, weaving through defenders like it’s second nature, sinking threes with that effortless precision she’s known for. The crowd chants her name, but you swear she’s only hearing yours.
At halftime, the teams gather at the benches, and Paige catches your eye again. She’s breathless, sweat dripping down her face, but she winks at you before grabbing her water bottle. That one little gesture sends a wave of warmth through you, and you know, without a doubt, that she’s been playing this hard, this fiercely, for you.
When the final buzzer sounds and her team wins, the gym erupts into cheers, but your focus is still on her. Paige is swarmed by her teammates, hugs and high-fives flying in every direction, but her eyes are searching for you. When she finally breaks free from the crowd, she jogs over to the stands, and without hesitation, she makes a beeline for you.
You can barely react before she reaches up, grabbing the front of the bleachers and pulling herself up effortlessly to where you are. She’s panting, still glowing from the win, but she’s grinning like she’s just won the lottery.
“You wore it,” she says, her voice breathless but full of joy.
You hold out your arms, letting her take in the sight of you in her jersey, the poster still clutched in one hand. “Of course I did.”
Paige shakes her head, leaning closer until her forehead is pressed against yours. She smells like sweat and adrenaline, and you can feel the heat radiating off of her, but none of that matters. It’s just the two of you again, in this tiny bubble where nothing else exists.
“I can’t believe you did all this,” she murmurs, her hand slipping to the back of your neck, fingers tracing lightly against your skin.
You shrug, trying to play it cool even though your heart is racing. “Well, I had to show up for my girl, didn’t I?”
Paige laughs softly, the sound low and warm. “You’re ridiculous.”
“But you love it.”
She pulls back just enough to look at you, her smile softening, and there’s something tender in the way she looks at you that makes your breath catch. “Yeah,” she whispers, brushing her lips against your cheek. “I really do.”
In that moment, with her jersey clinging to your back, her arms wrapped around you, and the crowd still buzzing with excitement around you, everything feels right. You’re exactly where you’re supposed to be—by her side, both of you wrapped in the kind of love that makes everything else fade into the background.
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ifhybutilovechu · 2 months ago
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Day 25 : humiliation + Day 26: public
ft . Onyankopon
You and Onyankopon were getting ready to go to a party , he watches through the mirror as you do you makeup. You spot him ad raise a brow but he just shakes his head .
As you get finished with you makeup you put your dress asking him to zip up the back , while he does so he peeps you outfit the shortness rubbing him the wrong way "This a little short ma" he whispers in you ear and you scoff playfully thinking he's joking "Boy bye" you say and walk off . Little did you know he was dead serious .
strike 1
he counts in his head as you put on your jewelry "Ok baby I'm done , you ready?" you ask and he nods. On the car ride there you take multiple pictures and tiktoks the short v neck leaving little to the imagination .
When you guys make it there you immediately give him a kiss before rushing off to find the birthday girl he was shocked you didn't even say bye 'strike 2' , your best friend Sasha . "Heyy bitch! you yell while running to give her a hug she so gladly returns ."You finally made it!!" she exclaims before handing you a shot you gracefully take . Y'all immediately make it to the dance floor and she caresses your waist and you grind on her playfully .
You turn around and start throwing it back on her and she catches it all , smacking at your ass while your short dress starts coming up . People start to crowd around cheering and recording , all types of hands coming to get a grab .
Onyankopon and his friend Connie get some drinks as they sit and reconnect . "How u been" Connie asks and Ony sighs "I feel like my girl been trying me lately" he says and Connie burst out laughing "I'm so happy it ain't just been me , Sasha been pushing all my buttons ." As they talk they hear the party getting louder and come to check it out . They walk to the middle of the circle and Onyankopon can feel his blood pressure getting high . You and Sasha shaking ass for the whole too see .
"Ah fuck nah" he hears Connie whispers before he reaches by his waist band and starts shooting into the air . Everybody scatters and before you and Sasha could run off to they grab y'all .
As you ride home you text Sasha trying not to make eye contact with Ony .
You : Girl we so fuckedd
Sasha : yes I'm almost home , shivering in my boots
You : Deadass , shit gotta go
Sahsa : I'm praying 4 u
"Put that phone down" Onyankopon tries to say as calmly as he could and you quickly turn it off. "So?" he asks and you don't answer turning away and you can see him nod his head in the corner of your eye "Aight"
He parks the car and your heart drops notices it's a parking lot. "Get to the back" he says coldly and you immediately crawl back and he presses a firm smack to your as causing a squeak . He turns you around pressing your face into the mattress and pulls up your dress and notices you have no panties on. He reaches his hand back before landing a harsh slap on your ass . You groan and leap forward but he just pull you back , this continues until you ass is red and sore .
"Fuck!" you yelp a tear falling from your eye . He swipes his thumb over your cunt feeling your wetness . "You like that , everyone looking at what's mine? he asks and you shake your head and he smack your ass . "I cant hear you" he says as you whimper "no.."
He lines his thick cock up with your entrance before ramming in. You moan and unconsciously move away for his brutal thrust , he grips your hips and locks you in place "Fuckk , baby I'm sorryy" you beg as your drool pools onto the leather seats . "You too late baby" he says before smacking your eyes "Now throw that shit back on me" you try your best but as you watch someone walk by your trust in the tinted windows didn't seem so high anymore , you smack your head at his stomach trying to push him out. Tapping on his stomach to signal him
"Don't focus on them look at me" he whispers into your ear , gripping on your neck. You throw you ass in circles on his cock and he groans "Fuck baby just like that... you gon catch this nut" he asks "Yes pa..ooh shit!" you say clenching around him as you get butterflies in your stomach . Your hands smacks at the fogged window and tears flood out your eyes , he tightens his grip on your hips to pound into you become you cum all over him . He watches the white ring appear around his cock and groans . thrusting again before cumming deep inside. He looks at you messy makeup and fuck up hair , hearing the squelch from the cum dripping out you hole.
"Maybe you won't act up when you can't go out with a baby on your hip?"
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tyunniez · 1 year ago
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tired already?... kuroo x bottom male reader
!!.. amab reader, semi-public sex, kuroo loves to tease, bokuto almost caught the both of them lol, biting and marking, creampie, both characters are 18...
a moan resonated through the empty bathroom. the setting sun outside peeked its way into the many stalls yet the fluorescent lights overpowered it.
" k-kuroo.. finish already! w-what if someone comes in... plus i don't think i can hold myself up anymore! " you whined, trying your hardest to hold yourself up using the stall's door.
meanwhile, kuroo only got more excited at the thought of someone coming in. them being able to hear your slutty moans. how loud you were begging just for some sweet release. maybe kuroo would let them take a peek too.
" hah, bet you would love that right? " kuroo grinned and trusted into you harshly, making you choke a bit on your own spit.
how did you even get here?
" bokuto! " you yelled out at your best friend, him already running and making his way towards you.
kuroo noticed this however it was too late.
before he could even react, you already set the ball towards bokuto who was already mid-jumping. the ball spun in the air, everyone's eyes towards it.
bokuto raised his left hand and winded back his right, preparing to hit said ball. kuroo tried jumping to stop the ball but it was too late.
the moment he began jumping, the ball hit the floor with a loud thud. the sound echoing throughout the audienceless court.
a moment of silence passed by with everyone processing the victory which now belonged to the fukurodani's players.
screams of happiness broke the silence, shaking the empty court. " yeah! let's go! " you screamed out, hugging your sweaty best friends bokuto and akaashi.
the three of you hopped around in happiness after winning the game, your teammates also happily cheering around you.
the nekoma players all congratulated you upon winning the practice match, both players shaking each others hands.
a whistle interrupted you, " yn, nice save earlier! " kuroo, your close friend approached you and sat down next to you.
" oh hey kuroo! thanks heh, you were pretty awesome earlier too! " you compliment him back, sipping the last drop of water in your bottle.
he hums in acknowledgment, appearing tired from the match. " oho what's this? is the great nekoma captain tired already? " your teasing voice earned you a slight jab from him.
" ugh im not tired yet! c'mon, let's go grab some drinks at the vending machine. " kuroo got up first, leaving you to follow him on your own which you did.
your mind wandered off as you trailed behind him, thinking of what to drink to get at the vending machine. what you didn't expect though was you being pulled to the bathroom by kuroo and getting your back blown by him.
" tired already? weren't you the one who was teasing me about being tired earlier. " kuroo laughed at your face as he held you up with both hands, slamming you up and down his cock.
" now look who can't even keep himself up. "
you could only moan while grabbing onto his shoulder, your own cock already leaking and smeared with cum. " i'm close, keep going kuroo..! " you managed to moan out, clenching him harder and harder.
kuroo's cheshire smile stretched itself on his lips, clearly enjoying how dumb you were from his cock alone.
you were so so close to cuming till..
" yn? kuroo? are you here? " bokuto's cheerful voice suddenly echoed in the bathroom, causing you and kuroo to stop your movement entirely.
bokuto looked around the bathroom, shrugging when he found neither you nor kuroo. he decided why not take a quick bathroom break while he was here, completely unaware of what was going on in two stalls next to him.
he sat himself at the first stall, one stall away from him having a front-row seat to hearing you get your ass pounded.
you looked up at kuroo in fear, afraid that even a tiny squeak could make bokuto a bit too curious and start to investigate the sound.
however, kuroo on the other hand looked down at you with a sinister look in his eyes, it being pretty obvious about what he was about to do.
you shook your head at him while covering your mouth to which he turned a blind eye.
he slid you up and slammed you down on his cock harshly, the sound itself making bokuto look around, but the sound that escaped from your mouth was what made him realize what was going on.
a high-pitched moan escaped from your mouth, the sound being an obvious giveaway of what was going on in one of the stalls.
your eyes rolled up to the back of your head at the sudden sensation of being full.
your release immediately came out of your cock. the cum that was seeping out of your ass hole and dripping down onto kuroo's thigh was also just making the situation more messy.
but kuroo wasn't done yet.
he picked up the pace and began thrusting into you, the feeling of your tight walls making him go overdrive.
tears rolled down your face as you tried your best to keep quiet, afraid that your own best friend might hear you getting dicked down.
you buried your face into the crevices of kuroo's neck, bitting and sucking on his neck in an attempt to hush yourself. kuroo on the other hand enjoyed the feeling of your teeth against his skin, leaving mark after mark on him.
bokuto quickly finished his business and rushed out of the bathroom, leaving the both of you alone again.
" mhm.. hahah, you loved almost getting caught by your own best friend, didn't you? " kuroo teased, his relentless thrusting still not finished.
you shook your head while burying deeper into his neck, your tears and saliva soaking kuroo's jersey.
he laughed at you, muttering about how cute you were.
after some hellish rounds, he was finished with his tormenting of you. the both of you walked out of the bathroom with your tracksuit jacket covering the marks all over each other's bodies.
you went back to the almost empty court, trying your hardest not to limp.
" hey hey hey, yn! where were you earlier? " you looked around like a deer caught in headlights upon seeing your two best friends behind you.
" oh uh.. hey! i was just at the store nearby.. " you lied through your teeth, praying that bokuto would buy it.
thankfully he wasn't the sharpest tool in the shed.
he nodded in understanding and began gossiping to you about how he heard some couple getting it on in the bathroom and how awkward it was since he needed to take a shit earlier.
you nodded along, acting as if that couple wasn't you and kuroo.
however, akaashi didn't seem convinced about your lie.
" yn, were you with kuroo earlier? " akaashi suddenly questioned you. your sweat dropped as you tried your hardest to not make any eye contact with either of them.
" huh oh uh yeah.. w-we were just yknow.. eating at the store together. " your voice gradually got quieter the more you talked.
akaashi hummed, as if already knowing what was going on but decided to not pry any further. meanwhile bokuto looked between you and akaashi, trying to figure out why you were so red at the simple question.
" well whatever, im tired and sweaty! let's go home now! " you thanked the world for how dense bokuto was.
you grabbed your stuff and followed behind the two men, already planning to beat the shit out of kuroo for next week's practice.
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kiesbrainjuice · 5 months ago
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— CRAWLING BACK TO YOU ! bokuto kotaro
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➥ syn : the volleyball captain finally realizes his feelings for you and confess in a…crawling way
➥ wc : 3.4k
➥ tw : just a crawling to the windows bokuto :)
➥ a/n : I FOUND A BIG IDEA even if I was in a lack of inspo since…days. Lmaooo enjoy reading ;)
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The routine started innocently enough, just another day at Fukurodani Academy. The gymnasium buzzed with a symphony of sounds - volleyballs smacking against the polished floor, sneakers squeaking, and the cacophony of voices echoing off the high ceilings. Amidst this controlled chaos, one voice rang out above the rest, unmistakable in its enthusiasm and volume.
"Hey, hey, hey! Did you see that spike? It was like 'whoosh' and then 'bam'!"
Bokuto Koutarou, the ace and captain of Fukurodani's volleyball team, stood at the center of it all, his arms spread wide as if to embrace the entire gym. His hair, defying gravity in its trademark owl-like style, seemed to quiver with excitement. His golden eyes sparkled with an almost childlike glee that was infectious, spreading to his teammates like wildfire.
You couldn't help but smile as you leaned against the gym's entrance, your bag slung over your shoulder. This daily visit had become a cherished part of your routine, a moment of brightness before the long school day ahead. What had started as mere curiosity about the boisterous volleyball team had evolved into something more, something that centered around the whirlwind of energy that was Bokuto.
As if sensing your presence, Bokuto's head swiveled towards you, his face breaking into an even wider grin. "Hey! You're here!" he shouted, waving enthusiastically.
You waved back, your heart doing a little flip in your chest. It was time for your daily ritual.
Sauntering over to where Bokuto stood, you took in his appearance - the way his practice shirt clung to his muscular frame, the slight sheen of sweat on his forehead, the way his hair somehow remained perfectly styled despite the rigorous practice.
"Morning, Bokuto," you said, infusing your voice with a teasing lilt. "I see your hair is defying the laws of physics as usual. What's your secret? Super glue?"
Bokuto blinked, then let out a booming laugh that reverberated through the gym. "Nah, it's all natural! Cool, right?" He ran a hand through his spikes, preening slightly. "Maybe I was just born to be a star!"
You chuckled, shaking your head. "Oh, definitely. You're practically glowing." Your tone was playful, but there was a hint of sincerity in your words that you couldn't quite hide.
However, as always, the nuance seemed to fly right over Bokuto's head. He beamed at you, taking your words at face value. "Thanks! I did have a good breakfast this morning. Gotta fuel up to be the ace, you know!"
You nodded sagely, fighting back a fond smile. "Of course. Can't have our star player running on empty."
This was how it always went. You'd drop a flirtatious comment, and Bokuto would respond with endearing obliviousness. It was frustrating at times, but you couldn't deny the charm in his innocent reactions. There was something refreshing about his straightforward nature, his inability to pick up on subtle cues. In a world of complex social dynamics and hidden meanings, Bokuto was an open book - one that you found yourself wanting to read over and over again.
As the days passed, your flirtations became bolder, your compliments more direct. Yet, Bokuto remained blissfully unaware, accepting your words with the same enthusiastic gratitude he showed when receiving a perfect set on the court.
One particularly memorable morning, you decided to up your game. Bokuto had just executed a powerful spike, the ball slamming onto the other side of the court with a resounding 'thwack'. As his teammates cheered, you caught his eye and gave him a slow, deliberate wink.
"Nice kill, ace," you called out, your voice low and appreciative. "You know, you're pretty amazing when you're all fired up like that."
Bokuto's chest puffed up with pride, but his response was as innocently enthusiastic as ever. "Thanks! I feel like I could take on the whole world right now!" He pumped his fist in the air, oblivious to the double meaning in your words.
You sighed inwardly, equal parts amused and exasperated. It was like flirting with a particularly cheerful brick wall.
It wasn't until a quiet afternoon, when the usual bustle of the gym had died down, that things began to shift. Practice had been particularly grueling that day, and even Bokuto's seemingly endless reserves of energy seemed depleted. He sat on the bench, absent-mindedly toweling off his sweat-dampened hair, his usual vibrant demeanor subdued.
Akaashi Keiji, the team's setter and Bokuto's closest friend, observed him with a mix of concern and curiosity. It was rare to see Bokuto so contemplative, and Akaashi knew from experience that a quiet Bokuto often preceded either a brilliant insight or a spectacular mood swing.
"Something on your mind, Bokuto-san?" Akaashi asked, his voice calm and measured as always.
Bokuto looked up, seeming almost surprised to find Akaashi there. He opened his mouth as if to speak, then closed it again, his brow furrowing in concentration. Finally, he blurted out, "Akaashi, you're smart about people stuff, right?"
Akaashi blinked, taken aback by the sudden question. "I... suppose so. Why do you ask?"
Bokuto ran a hand through his hair, a gesture that betrayed his nervousness. "It's about [y/n]," he said, his voice uncharacteristically hesitant. "She come around a lot, right?"
Akaashi nodded, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. He had noticed your frequent visits and the way you interacted with Bokuto. Unlike his captain, Akaashi was perceptive enough to recognize flirtation when he saw it. "Yes, she does," he confirmed, wondering where Bokuto was going with this.
"Well," Bokuto continued, his words coming out in a rush, "she always says these things. Nice things, you know? About my hair, or my plays, or just... me. And it feels different from when other people say nice things. It makes me feel all..." He gestured vaguely at his chest, struggling to find the right words.
Akaashi's smile grew a little wider. "Warm? Fluttery?" he suggested gently.
Bokuto's eyes widened. "Yeah! Exactly! How did you know?"
Akaashi took a deep breath, realizing that he was about to open Bokuto's eyes to a whole new world. "Bokuto-san," he said carefully, "have you considered that [y/n] might be flirting with you?"
The look of utter bewilderment on Bokuto's face would have been comical if it weren't so genuine. "Flirting?" he repeated, as if the word was foreign to him. "Like... trying to be my friend?"
Akaashi couldn't help but chuckle softly. "Not exactly," he explained patiently. "Flirting is a way of showing romantic interest in someone. It's like... testing the waters to see if there's a mutual attraction."
Bokuto's jaw dropped, his eyes growing impossibly wide. "Romantic interest? You mean... [y/n] might like me? Like, like-like me?"
Akaashi nodded, amused by Bokuto's childlike phrasing but touched by his innocent reaction. "It's very possible. She's been giving you a lot of compliments and attention. Those are often signs of flirting."
Bokuto fell silent, a rare occurrence that Akaashi knew signaled deep thought. He could almost see the gears turning in Bokuto's head as he replayed every interaction with you in this new light.
After a long moment, Bokuto spoke again, his voice uncharacteristically quiet. "Akaashi... I think I might like her too. Like, like-like her."
Akaashi felt a surge of affection for his friend. For all his bravado on the court, Bokuto could be endearingly vulnerable when it came to matters of the heart. "That's great, Bokuto-san," he said warmly. "Have you thought about telling her how you feel?"
Excitement flashed across Bokuto's face, his golden eyes lighting up with newfound understanding. "Tell her? Of course! Why didn't I think of that before? This is gonna be great!"
Akaashi blinked, a bit taken aback by Bokuto's sudden enthusiasm. "You're... not worried about how she might respond?"
Bokuto let out his signature booming laugh. "Worried? Nah! I'm the ace, aren't I? I've got this!" He puffed out his chest, his earlier doubts completely forgotten. "Besides, [y/n] is always saying nice things to me. She's gotta like me, right?"
A small smile tugged at Akaashi's lips. This was the Bokuto he knew - confident, enthusiastic, and ready to take on any challenge. "Well, if you're sure, Bokuto-san. Just remember to be respectful of her feelings, whatever she may be."
"Hey, hey, hey! Of course I will!" Bokuto exclaimed, jumping to his feet with renewed energy. "I'm gonna sweep her off their feet with my awesome confession! It'll be like my best spike ever, but with words!"
As practice wound down and the team began to disperse, Bokuto's mind was buzzing with excitement. He replayed every interaction with you, seeing them in a new light. The compliments, the lingering glances, the way you always seemed to seek him out - it all made perfect sense now.
The next morning dawned bright and clear, matching Bokuto's mood as he practically bounced into the gym. His enthusiasm was palpable, radiating off him in waves that his teammates couldn't help but notice.
"Someone's in a good mood," Konoha remarked, raising an eyebrow at Bokuto's even-more-exuberant-than-usual demeanor.
"Of course I am!" Bokuto exclaimed, his grin threatening to split his face. "Today's gonna be awesome!"
As the team began their warm-ups, Bokuto's eyes kept darting to the gym entrance. Any moment now, you would walk in, and he would sweep you off your feet with his amazing confession. He had it all planned out in his head - he'd stride up to you confidently, flash his best smile, and tell you exactly how he felt. It was foolproof.
But when you finally did appear in the doorway, something unexpected happened. Bokuto felt his words die in his throat.
You stood there, backlit by the morning sun streaming through the windows, and Bokuto felt as if he was seeing you for the first time. Your hair caught the light, creating a soft halo effect. Your eyes sparkled with warmth as they met his, and your smile - that smile he'd seen a hundred times before - suddenly seemed to hold the secrets of the universe.
"Morning, Bokuto!" you called out cheerfully, completely unaware of the internal crisis you'd just sparked in the volleyball captain.
Bokuto opened his mouth to respond, but no sound came out. His mind, usually filled with thoughts of volleyball and little else, was now entirely occupied by you. He noticed things he'd never paid attention to before - the way you tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, the gentle curve of your neck, the grace in your movements as you walked towards him.
"Bokuto?" you asked, your brow furrowing in concern as you approached. "Are you okay? You're being awfully quiet."
Bokuto nodded dumbly, still unable to form words. This wasn't how it was supposed to go. He was supposed to be confident, charismatic, sweeping you off your feet with his awesome confession. Instead, he found himself struck silent, in awe of your presence in a way he'd never experienced before.
From across the gym, Akaashi watched the scene unfold with a mixture of amusement and sympathy. He'd never seen Bokuto so flustered before, especially not in front of you.
"Earth to Bokuto," you waved a hand in front of his face, your tone a mix of amusement and worry. "Did you lose your voice or something?"
Bokuto shook his head, trying to snap out of his daze. "N-no, I'm fine!" he finally managed to stammer out. "Just... thinking about... volleyball stuff!"
You raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying it, but decided to let it slide. "Okay, if you say so. Well, don't let me interrupt your practice. I just wanted to say hi before class."
As you turned to leave, Bokuto felt a surge of panic. This was his chance, he had to say something! But all that came out was a weak, "Bye!"
You glanced back, giving him a slightly puzzled smile before heading out of the gym. Bokuto watched you go, his heart pounding in his chest.
emo mode activated.
Once you were out of sight, he slumped to the floor, burying his face in his hands. "Akaashi!" he wailed, loud enough for the entire team to hear. "What just happened?"
Akaashi jogged over, crouching down beside his captain. "I believe, Bokuto-san," he said gently, "that you just experienced what it's like to be truly smitten."
Bokuto peeked out from between his fingers, his golden eyes wide with confusion and a hint of fear. "But... but I had a plan! I was going to be all cool and stuff! Instead, I just... froze up!"
Akaashi patted Bokuto's shoulder comfortingly. "It happens to the best of us, Bokuto-san. Sometimes, when we realize how much we care about someone, it can be overwhelming."
Bokuto slowly lowered his hands, his expression shifting from distress to determination. "Then... then I'll just have to try again! Yeah! I won't let this setback defeat me!"
As Bokuto jumped to his feet, his usual energy returning, Akaashi couldn't help but smile. This was going to be an interesting journey for his captain, and he had a feeling it was far from over.
"Alright, everyone!" Bokuto shouted, his voice echoing through the gym. "Let's practice hard! I've got a confession to nail!"
The team exchanged confused glances, but shrugged and got back to their drills. After all, this was Bokuto - and with him, anything could happen.
The moon hung low in the sky, casting long shadows across the quiet streets. Bokuto trudged home, his usual boundless energy depleted after an especially grueling practice. He'd pushed himself harder than ever, trying to work out the frustration of his failed confession attempt.
As he walked, his mind wandered back to you. The way you'd looked in the morning sunlight, the concern in your eyes when he'd fumbled his words, the gentle curve of your smile as you'd said goodbye. Each memory sent a flutter through his chest, a sensation he was still getting used to.
Suddenly, Bokuto stopped in his tracks. A memory hit him like a spike to the face - that time you'd walked home together because he'd discovered you lived in the same neighborhood. Without a second thought, he pivoted on his heel and broke into a run, his exhaustion forgotten.
The streets blurred past as Bokuto sprinted, his heart pounding with a mixture of exertion and anticipation. He skidded around corners, narrowly avoiding a stray cat, until finally, he found himself on your street.
Panting heavily, Bokuto approached your house. The lights were still on in what he remembered was your bedroom. For a moment, doubt crept in. What was he doing? It was late, you were probably getting ready for bed, and here he was, about to...
Well, he wasn't entirely sure what he was about to do. But he was Bokuto Koutarou, and backing down wasn't in his nature.
With the agility of the ace spiker he was, Bokuto began to scale the side of your house. He'd never been more grateful for his athletic prowess as he carefully made his way up, using drainpipes and window ledges as handholds. 
Finally, he reached your window. Through the glass, he could see you sitting at your desk, engrossed in a book. You were wearing soft-looking pajamas, your hair slightly mussed, and Bokuto felt his heart skip a beat at the sight.
Taking a deep breath, he rapped his knuckles against the glass.
The effect was instantaneous. You jumped in your chair, the book flying from your hands as you whirled to face the window. Your eyes widened in shock as you recognized Bokuto, perched precariously outside your second-story window.
For a moment, you just stared at each other, the absurdity of the situation rendering you both speechless. Then, snapping out of your shock, you rushed to open the window.
"Bokuto?!" you hissed, your voice a mix of concern and disbelief. "What on earth are you doing? Get in here before you fall!"
You helped him clamber through the window, your hands gripping his arm tightly as if afraid he might tumble backward at any moment. Once he was safely inside, you stepped back, crossing your arms over your chest.
"Okay, explain," you demanded, your brow furrowed. "Why are you climbing through my window at..." you glanced at your clock, "11:30 at night?"
Bokuto stood there, suddenly very aware that he was in your bedroom, with you in your pajamas, looking adorably rumpled and confused. He opened his mouth, then closed it again, words failing him for the second time that day.
"I... uh..." he stammered, his usual confidence deserting him once again. His eyes darted around your room, taking in the volleyball posters (including one of him, which made his heart leap), the neatly organized bookshelf, the stuffed owl on your bed that he'd won for you at a festival last year.
You sighed, your expression softening. "Bokuto, are you okay? You've been acting strange all day. First, you barely said a word this morning, and now you're scaling buildings in the middle of the night. What's going on?"
Something in your tone, the genuine concern in your eyes, seemed to flip a switch in Bokuto. He stood up straighter, his golden eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that made your breath catch.
"[Y/N]," he said, his voice steady and filled with his usual enthusiasm. "I like you!"
The words hung in the air between you, Bokuto's chest heaving as if he'd just finished a five-set match.
"I mean," he continued, the words now flowing freely, "I really, really like you. Akaashi made me realize it yesterday, and then this morning you looked so beautiful I couldn't even speak, which never happens to me, you know? And I've been thinking about you all day, about how you always come to watch our practices, and how you laugh at my jokes, and how you make me feel all 'gwah' inside."
He paused, taking a deep breath before flashing you his trademark grin. "So yeah, I like you. A lot. And I climbed up here tonight because I couldn't wait another minute to tell you. Because you're amazing, and I want to spike all my tosses for you, if you know what I mean."
As his words sank in, your shocked expression slowly transformed. A blush crept across your cheeks, and a smile began to tug at the corners of your mouth.
"Bokuto," you said softly, your voice filled with warmth. "I like you too. I've been trying to tell you for months now."
Bokuto's eyes widened, his grin growing impossibly wider. "Really? That's... that's awesome! Hey he-"
His exuberant shout echoed through your quiet room, and you quickly placed a hand over his mouth, your eyes wide with alarm.
"Shh!" you whispered urgently, your heart racing. "My family is sleeping, and they definitely don't need to know that a boy climbed into my room tonight!"
Bokuto's eyes widened in understanding, and you felt his lips curve into a smile beneath your palm. Slowly, you removed your hand, your fingertips grazing his lips in a way that sent a shiver down your spine.
"Sorry," he whispered, his voice unusually soft. "I got excited. But can you blame me? The girl I like just said she likes me back!"
You couldn't help but smile at his enthusiasm, even as you glanced nervously at your bedroom door. "I do like you, Bokuto. A lot. But maybe next time, try confessing at a more reasonable hour? And preferably through the front door?"
Bokuto grinned sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. "Yeah, I guess I got a little carried away. But hey, it worked, didn't it?"
As you both stood there, smiling at each other in the dim light of your bedroom, the full absurdity of the situation hit you. Here was Bokuto, the boy you'd been pining after for months, standing in your bedroom in the middle of the night, having just confessed his feelings for you in the most Bokuto way possible.
Your heart swelled with affection. Despite the late hour, despite the risk of getting caught, despite the unconventional method - or perhaps because of all these things - this moment felt perfect. It was so utterly, completely Bokuto, and you wouldn't have had it any other way.
"So," Bokuto whispered, his golden eyes twinkling with mischief and joy, "what happens now?"
You glanced at your clock, then back at Bokuto, a mix of excitement and nervousness fluttering in your stomach. This was just the beginning, and you had a feeling life with Bokuto was going to be quite an adventure.
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Ⓒkiesbrainjuice all rights reserved. please to not plagiarize, repost, or translate !
tag : @haechansbbg
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mommypieck · 1 year ago
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⌗︙・tutoring with jean ⸜⸜・
we heard about different characters being nerds but what about jean?
he's so eager to let you study with him because he likes you but when the time finally comes, he's so frustrated with you.
"do you understand at least one thing?" he asks you after you get 8/10 answers wrong. you shake your head, unknowingly rubbing your thighs together at the harshness of his phone. jean is a cutie but he's too nerdy for you. he's always busy with drawing and school while you spend most of your time partying and cheering.
"you're not serious?" he grunts when you pull out your gloss to put it on your lips.
"what?" you ask him. wanting to be pretty is not a sin.
"i can't deal with this anyone." he says, his arms coming to pick you up. you squeak when he throws you on the bed, crawling on your chest.
he unbuckles his pants, pulling out his hard cock. your eyes widen at his size, he's so pretty, long and thick but nothing you can't take. at least that's what you thought.
"open your mouth." he orders, using his finger to pull your mouth open. he slides his cock right between your glossed lips. he doesn't give you any time to set your own place as he starts fucking your mouth. you choke and drool around his cock, tears slowly filling your eyes.
"maybe cock in mouth is gonna fuck some sense into you." he rips the buttons on your blouse open, revealing your bra clad boobs. he grips them with his big hands, kneeding and not giving your throat any peace.
"im gonna cum." he groans, softly slapping your face. your makeup is ruined, it's all over your place and you think about how ugly you must look. he sees you differently, jean thinks you're the prettiest like this. he shoves his cock deep in your mouth as he cums right down your throat. you choke on the amount of cum he makes, some of it even running down your face when he pulls out.
"good girl. now let's get back to studying." he says as he fixes his pants. he doesn't give a fuck if you're still messy.
"but im so wet, jean-boy."
he freezes, "oh fuck, you're such a slut.come here."
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bbunnyyy · 1 year ago
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★ SHINSOU X READER
▻ Summary: You and Shinsou get caught by his mentor. [implied fem reader, aged up characters.]
▻ Fluff, awkward stuff, hope you like it <3
☁ I try to hide it in my face and it don't work, you see through that I just wanna get with you... ☁
A/n: good luck to those of you who have exams!
What is this, a funeral? Play some music: You right by Doja Cat
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☀︎
You walked into the lounge behind the staff room to check on Eri. Present Mic being your mentor and Eraserhead being Shinsou's, you both had special privileges. One of them being steaming hot coffee on cold days.
Eri was lying on her tummy on the floor, colouring with pastels. "[Onee/ Onii] -san, you're back!" she exclaimed joyfully, jumping into your arms. You chuckled, catching the small child and encasing her in your arms. Eraserhead had put you on Eri-watch duty since he'd be busy for the rest of the evening. "Look! Look! I drew Papa Mic and Dada holding hands in front of their house and You and Onii san holding hands in the yard!" Eri showed you excitedly. "You're so good at drawing, Eri-chan!" You exclaimed while kneeling down to the now beaming girl's level. "Wait a minu- Why are me and Shinsou holding hands??"
"Mmm. Very interesting." A voice came from behind you, which you responded to with a squeak. Eri ran into the Shinsou's arms, the artwork now forgotten. "Shin! Don't scare us like that." You said while telling him off. "Oh, boo hoo. I can't help that you're a scardey cat." Shinsou said, rolling his eyes and walking towards the sofa. "You sneak up behind a person and then make fun of them for being surprised? What a bleak time to live in." You tutted, shaking your head sarcastically. "Enough bickering, Y/N. There are more important matters at hand, like watching Cinderella." Eri cheered happily as you sat on the couch, Shinsou starting the movie. Eri cuddled into you as she sang along to the songs, having watched the movie before.
"I'll head to the vending machine, Do you guys want anything?" You piped up, feeling thirsty. Eri, absorbed in the movie with her mouth agape shook her head half-mindedly. Standing up, you made your way to the corridor. Looking out the windows, you saw the trees gently swaying in the wind, highlights of the golden sunlight illuminating the bark. It was almost sundown, you thought to yourself. Sensei would be back soon. Standing in front of the machine, you kicked it. The darn thing was acting up again. Your head turned at hearing soft footsteps from the other side of the corridor. It was the purple-haired idiot dragging his feet along the floor, yawning while rubbing the back of his head. "Eri's asleep so I thought I'd give you some company." Shinsou said, mid-yawn. "Hmph. Like I'd savour your company." You stated, pursing your lips.
Shinsou backed you into the wall. "Speak up, pretty girl." Shinsou smirked while looking into your eyes. Smirking yourself, "In simpler words your pea brain can understand- you're boring." Tilting his head, Shinsou closed the gap between you two. "That's not what you were saying last night." He said, now nipping at your neck. "We should stop Shin, we need to get back to Eri-chan." You two jumped away from each other when a loud yawn interrupted your moment, the both of you looking in the direction of the disturbance. Eri was walking towards you two, sleepily rubbing her eyes. "The movie's almost oveer.." Eri wailed, putting her hands up wanting to be picked up. Big bro Shinsou swooped in, picking her off her feet.
Shinsou put a cranky Eri to sleep as you stood leaning on one of the desks while looking at the now-black sky through the huge windows. You yawned, feeling sluggish yourself. You made a mental note of the things you'd have to do when you got back to the dorms. Rubbing your eyes, you looked at Shinsou who was now walking towards you. He stretched his arm to reach behind you, turning the lights down to dim the room. Your eyes wandered the room, falling on Eri, whose chest rose and fell as she breathed softly. Shinsou moved to stand in front of you, placing his hands on your hips and nuzzling his head into the crook of your neck. His hands snaked up to your back as you held him close, wordlessly. "Tired?" You chuckled, running your hands through his hair to comfort him. "I think I should change my name to Mr.Eyebags at this point." Shinsou joked, his hands now roaming your body.
You let out a gasp as your body made a 'thud' sound as it came into contact with the desk. Your hands were above your head, held firmly in place by Shinsou's muscular arms. You tried to wiggle out of his grasp, whining about how Eri was in the room and how Aizawa Sensei would be back any moment. Shinsou hunched over you, shushing you by placing a slender finger on your pouty lips. Not wanting to look at him, you turned your head in rebellion. "Oh, is that how you're going to play princess?" Shinsou said, pinning you down with one hand. Shinsou tickled your tummy and you resisted your very best from giving in laughing. You burst into a fit of giggles along with him just when you heard someone clearing their throat as the lights in the room flickered on.
Shinsou widened his eyes. "S..Sensei." Shinsou stuttered, trying to explain himself. You sat up, mortified. "Shinsou. Y/N." Aizawa said, pressing his temples. "How long has this been going on?" Aizawa questioned you both shifted your weight from one foot to another awkwardly. "A couple months." You piped up, your gaze falling to the floor. "We weren't gonna keep it a secret forever." Shinsou said, walking over to you. Aizawa shook his head. "I'm not saying I'm against it." Aizawa stated, now looking at you both. The silence in the room was loud, the three of you staring at each other. "....Is Yamada Sensei going to hear about this?" You questioned, wishing you could be buried a few thousand feet under the ground. "You bet." Aizawa shrugged, turning on his heel to walk towards the sofa. "Set a good example for your younger sister." Aizawa said, side-eyeing you both while picking up Eri who was still asleep.
Shinsou and You stood in silence for a while after Aizawa stepped out the room. "Wanna walk back to the dorms together?" Shinsou proposed, resting his hand on the small of your back. You nodded. "Sensei is never going to let go of this." You groaned, imaging the amount of teasing you'd have to endure from your mentor and Aizawa Sensei. "Good thing we're graduating soon, eh?" Shinsou said, poking your stomach with his elbow.
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heart4caitlin · 1 month ago
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INJURED HEARTS / paige bueckers
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Paige bueckers x injured!fem!reader
Synopsis: After an acl tear, y/n is out for the season. She finds solace in the main star, Paige.
NOT PROOFREAD !!!
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The gym was buzzing with excitement. The sounds of sneakers squeaking against the court as you sat alone in the sidelines. Not really pay attention to the game, everything had felt distant to you. The dull ache in your knee, a constant reminder of what happened a few months ago.
Paige was The Star of the court. She had it all, the skill, the confidence, everything. Everyone had loved her at Uconn. She was everything that you wanted to be. Everything that you couldn't see yourself being. You'd been playing for years before but as you watched other players, the confidence wavered just a bit.
Watching the team play felt like a slap in the face, how the others moved on the court, every shot, every steal, everything was smooth and they played so well together.
The game was nearing the end, the score being a tie. Paige had just sunk a three-pointed, making the crowd go absolutely wild. The opposing team rushing to get the ball and going down the court, but they were too late. Game over. Uconn had won again.
You just couldn't shake the burden of being a failure, thinking you would never be as good as them. All because of an ACL tear.
As the crowd cheered, Paige kept looking over to you. She finally caved in and jogged over to you on the bench, taking the seat beside you and giving a soft smile.
"You good?"
"Yeah, just watching the game. Congrats on the final point, Paige." You smiled at her, a lump in your throat as the constant feeling of being a disappointment kept coming back.
She didn't answer right away, her hand coming to rest on your knee, squeezing gently. "Come on, don't lie to me, Y/n. I know you are. Don't think so badly on yourself all because you're not playing, we’re still doing this together. So don’t shut yourself out, okay?”
Your heart ached for a second, you bite your lip and nod towards her. For the first time since her injury, you let yourself believe.
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The locker room was loud, everyone cheering and talking above one another, as you were sitting on the side with your leg propped up. Paige was staring at you from where she was sitting. She made her way over towards you, slipping into the spot next to you as her hand moves to your thigh.
For a moment, it was silent before Paige started speaking. "I'm proud of you, ya know? You are apart of this team, whether you're playing or not. We all need you here. I need you here."
Your heart ached for a second, you stared at Paige for a few seconds. "I love you so much, Paige." The two of your hands intertwined, Paiges' thumb stroking the back of your hand as she smiled.
Before you know it, Paige is leaning forwards into you and her lips are on yours- soft and light, her hand coming up to rest on your cheek.
The two of you part, slightly breathing heavily as your foreheads rest together. "I love you too." Paige murmured against your lips, before smiling and pressing against you again, the team being forgotten in the background.
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a/n: This was really short, i apologize!! I did only erite this in like an hour last night. please reblog and comment !!
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vipvesper · 5 months ago
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the thrill of the hunt
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pairing: fumikage tokoyami x cat quirk!reader
warnings: none!! :3
“sorry i pounced on you, just the thrill of the hunt!”
Children chatter in the courtyard, the sounds of dozens of conversations moving in sync with cheerful laughter. Ah, kindergarten. Those are the days.
Rather than playing with your friends or digging in the mud, your sharp eyes lock on a small, black figure—wait, no, two. The familiar caw of a raven comes from the one that floats, and you know you simply have to catch it. Staying low to the ground, you stalk.
Closer.
Closer.
Closer.
The kid-sized bird comes into view as you round the large oak tree it leans against. In one large leap, you tackle the book right out of a pair of remarkably human hands. Wait.
“Gotcha!” You exclaim, grabbing the oversized bird by the shoulders. This definitely isn’t right… Your eyes drift up to meet another pair.
“I would appreciate if you would unhand me,” requests Tokoyami. Whoops.
“Sorry!” Sharp claws retract back into normal nails as you back away, sitting on the plush green grass. “Thought you were a bird!”
The avian child stands up, brushing the glass clippings off his clothes. “It’s quite alright.” The shadow trailing from his stomach cowers behind him, big yellow eyes filled with fear. “Dark Shadow, it’s okay. It’s just [name].” Tokoyami’s gaze shifts back to you. “I’d prefer if you didn’t hunt me again in the future.”
But, things don’t go his way very often.
Tokoyami sits in his dorm staring at his phone. The gentle glow is a stark contrast to the foreboding aura of his room. He doesn’t notice the strip of yellow light push through the room, or the way his door opens without the hinges creaking. He doesn’t notice how you creep across the floor, the boards never squeaking. He certainly doesn’t notice the way your eyes gleam as they lock on his face. By the time he does, it’s too late. Your freshly-sharpened claws barely pierce his shirt, trapping him to his bed. Tokoyami’s feathers puff out in all directions like a porcupine.
“Gotcha, Fumi!” You gloat, giggling from your feat. The boy groans, pushing himself up into a sitting position.
“You really need to stop doing this, my love.” You shake your head, tail swishinng mischievously behind you
“Sorry I pounced on you, just the thrill of the hunt!” Tokoyami wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you in.
He sighs, “I’m starting to believe you will never grow out of this habit of yours.”
“I don’t think I will either, birdbrain.”
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isak-dot-gov · 4 months ago
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Mic'd Up
Pairing: Kelsey Plum x Reader
Word count:
Summary: The Las Vegas Aces media team ask you to be mic'd up for one of their games.
Masterlist:
.....................................................................
You felt a little giddy as you made your way into the Michelob Ultra Arena. The buzz of excited fans filled the air, but tonight was different for you. Sure, you’d been to dozens of Las Vegas Aces games to support Kelsey, your girlfriend, but this time, you were the centre of some unexpected attention. The media team had asked you to be mic’d up for tonight’s game.
Apparently, your reactions to the Aces’ plays—especially Kelsey's—had gotten some attention from the fans. Whether it was jumping out of your seat for a buzzer-beater or groaning when the refs made a bad call, your emotions were front and centre. You couldn’t help it—watching Kelsey and the team play stirred something in you, and now you were going to have to be conscious of the fact that every word would be recorded.
After receiving the microphone, you found your usual seat near the court and took a deep breath. "You’ve got this," you muttered to yourself, adjusting the small mic clipped to your collar. The camera crew wasn’t far off, ready to catch your reactions, and while that made you a bit nervous, you were also kind of excited. Kelsey still didn’t know about the mic’d-up surprise, and you couldn’t wait to see her reaction.
The warm-ups began, and soon enough, the familiar squeak of shoes on the hardwood filled the air. Kelsey, as always, looked completely focused, but she hadn’t noticed you yet. You watched her go through her routine, shooting three-pointers with that effortless grace she always had. It was impossible not to smile as you felt the butterflies in your stomach flutter. She was incredible, and you were so proud of her.
Just before the game tipped off, Kelsey finally caught sight of you in the stands. She gave you a small smile and a wave, which you returned with a wink. You could tell by the look on her face that she was in the zone, ready to take on the night.
As the game started, it didn’t take long for you to forget about the mic. You were too caught up in the action, jumping to your feet when Kelsey sank a three just minutes into the first quarter.
“That’s my girl! Let’s go, Kelsey!” you yelled, grinning from ear to ear.
Beside you, the camera crew stifled their laughter as they captured your energy. You sat down again, buzzing with excitement, but it wasn’t long before the entire arena was on its feet. Jackie Young had just stolen the ball and was racing down the court for a fast break.
“Oh, Jackie, take it all the way!” you shouted, holding your breath as she made a clean layup. You stood up again, applauding with the rest of the crowd.
The game was fast-paced, and your reactions came naturally. You cheered every time Chelsea Gray made an insane assist, clapped loudly for A’ja Wilson’s tough rebounds, and even groaned when a call didn’t go in the Aces’ favour.
When Kelsey got subbed back in, you knew she was about to make a statement. The way she moved on the court with such purpose was thrilling. As she came off a screen and launched a deep three, you jumped out of your seat again.
“Yes, Kelsey! Hit that!” you shouted, fist-pumping as the ball swished through the net.
Kelsey briefly looked in your direction and smirked, shaking her head. She didn’t know about the mic yet, but she knew you well enough to recognize your voice.
The energy only intensified as halftime approached. The Aces were up by ten points, and the crowd was loving it. You found yourself totally engrossed, barely paying attention to the fact that the camera was pointed at you. When A’ja nailed a tough jumper at the buzzer, you screamed, “MVP! MVP!” along with the rest of the crowd, clapping like your life depended on it.
As the players headed to the locker room for halftime, Kelsey jogged over to where you were sitting. She wiped some sweat off her brow and grinned.
“So, how’s it going? Enjoying yourself?” she asked, leaning on the barrier separating the court from the seats.
“Of course! You’re killing it out there,” you said, trying to sound casual, but your heart was still racing from the excitement.
Kelsey tilted her head. “You seem extra hyped tonight. Something I should know?”
Before you could answer, a couple of Kelsey’s teammates—A’ja Wilson, Jackie Young, and Chelsea Gray—came up behind her.
“Yo, Kelsey,” A’ja called out, “is it just me, or is your girl, like, super into the game tonight?”
Jackie laughed, nudging Chelsea. “She’s giving us more energy than the bench squad.”
You blushed, laughing along with them. “I just love watching you guys play.”
Chelsea raised an eyebrow, a sly smile forming on her face. “Or maybe it’s just Kelsey she’s hyped about?”
“Okay, maybe a little of both,” you admitted, shooting a glance at Kelsey, who was looking at you with that soft, affectionate smile she reserved only for you.
A’ja stepped closer, crossing her arms with a teasing grin. “Wait, wait, is she mic’d up?” she asked, finally noticing the small microphone on your collar. “Oh, man, this is gold!”
Kelsey’s eyes widened as she caught sight of it, too. “Wait, seriously? You’re mic’d up?”
You sheepishly nodded. “Uh, yeah. The media team thought it’d be fun to capture my reactions tonight since, uh, apparently, the fans love them.”
Kelsey’s face broke into a grin, clearly amused. “Oh, this is going to be interesting.”
“Oh, it’s already been interesting,” Jackie chimed in with a laugh. “She’s been jumping out of her seat every time you score.”
A’ja chuckled, nudging Kelsey. “You’ve got your own personal cheerleader on blast.”
Kelsey shook her head, still smiling. “I guess I’ll have to put on a show in the second half then.”
As the players headed back to the locker room for halftime, Kelsey leaned in closer to you, her voice low enough for just the two of you to hear. “Just don’t say anything too embarrassing, alright?”
“No promises,” you teased, grinning back at her.
The second half of the game was even more intense. The Aces kept the lead, but the opposing team was catching up fast. Your reactions became even more animated as the game tightened.
When Kelsey made a crucial steal in the fourth quarter and raced down the court for an open layup, you were on your feet again. “Yes, Kelsey! That’s how you do it!” you screamed, pumping your fists in the air.
The camera caught your enthusiasm, and the arena’s big screen switched to you again, showing your reaction to the entire crowd. You blushed, but it didn’t stop you from cheering.
Chelsea hit a deep three-pointer to give the Aces some breathing room, and you yelled, “That’s why she’s the Point Gawd!”
“Someone’s got to tell her she’s on camera,” Chelsea joked as she jogged back on defence, pointing toward you.
As the game neared its end, Kelsey hit a three that sealed the deal, and the arena erupted into cheers. You were louder than anyone, clapping and yelling with everything you had.
When the final buzzer sounded, and the Aces secured the win, you stood with the rest of the fans, clapping and celebrating. Kelsey jogged over to you, still breathing heavily from the game, her face glowing with victory.
“So, how’d I do?” she asked with a playful smirk.
“You were amazing,” you said, your voice softening as you looked at her. “But I think you already knew that.”
Kelsey laughed, wiping some sweat from her forehead. “Yeah, but it’s nice to hear you say it. Even if the whole arena heard you, too.”
A’ja and the rest of the team walked over, joining in on the teasing. “Yo, Kelsey, your girl was louder than the mascot tonight!” A’ja laughed, pulling you into a friendly hug. “She’s got more energy than any of us!”
Jackie nodded in agreement. “She’s officially part of the Aces family now.”
You smiled, feeling your face heat up at the attention. “I just love watching you all play. You make it easy to get excited.”
Kelsey looked at you with that familiar glint in her eyes, the one that always made your heart skip a beat. “Well, you definitely kept things interesting. But now I’ve got to see the footage from tonight.”
“You’d better,” Chelsea said, laughing. “It’s pure gold.”
As the players gathered for post-game interviews and celebrations, Kelsey gave you a lingering look before heading off with her team. You stayed behind, still buzzing from the excitement of the game and the fun of being mic’d up.
One thing was for sure—you’d never forget this game. Neither would Kelsey or her teammates.
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chatsukimi · 8 months ago
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POV. STREETRACER!TOJI asks to borrow your last name.
.・*:。.・*:。.・*:。.・*:。.・*:。.・*:。.・*:。.・*:。.・
“What do you mean you don’t want your last name printed on your uniform?”
Toji, your trust fund racer and favourite bet, shrugs. “Already said, I won’t race with the name Zen’in.”
You sit down at your desk. It’s after school, and you and the spoiled soon-to-be college reject are sitting in the classroom.
You throw your hands up. “But why? What’s bad about Zen’in?”
“Everything,” he deadpans.
Staring at the guy for a flat five seconds, you realise he won’t change his mind, or explain himself, which you should have expected from a guy going broke despite his millionaire family.
Toji props himself up on the desk beside yours, leaning on his knees as though thinking. A few seconds pass.
He offers, “why don’t I use yours?”
“My what?”
“Your last name,” he suggests, breezing through the prospect at horrifying speed. “It works. You’re sponsoring me anyways.”
You blink twice. Delayed reaction.
“What?!” you squeak out.
Toji smirks, leaning on his palm watching you. “What?” he repeats, playing innocent. He sports a smug look in his green eyes and even bothers to scan your notebook splayed out on your desk, reading your last name out loud to himself. “Nice.”
No. Not nice. They’ll assume you're- you're- your cheeks heat up.
He looks at you, bearing a smile that's all teeth. 'We could be cousins.'
The guy even dares to pat you on the shoulder at that. You shake him off. No one at the race would believe you two are related.
"No."
'No?' he echoes, cocking his head, tempting you to speak. 'What could we be then?'
"We can be... can be..." you think to yourself, before noticing his hands landing on your shoulder, massaging them like a habit. He's sauntered over from his chair.
Comforting, but still...
Bad habit.
Your heart stutters.
Baaad habit.
"Hm?" He chuckles when he sees you realise. "What would we be?"
You swallow, the small proximity between the two of you taking your mind on a field trip; him standing behind your seat and you, fidgeting your hands under the desk like crazy.
"Nothing."
He raises an eyebrow.
"I don't think taking your last name means nothing," he presses, serious.
How is he saying this with such a straight face? You're looking anywhere in the classroom but Toji, hoping he might just drop the subject. What's wrong with his last name anyways? What is he even insinuating? Does he really-
"I don't think I'll get tired of that face in ten years' time," he states.
Toji Zen'in is a blunt guy. When he said he hates his last name, he meant it. When he says he wants yours, well, no one's calling this guy a liar, are they?
It's been a while since you started sponsoring his races, and he's grown accustomed to your face in the stands. Always too far away, though. You always have on that dispassionate expression as a gambler, as though he's one of the rest.
For once, he cannot be just one of the rest.
“I'm... not sure what you mean." Your eyes move to the sunset outside, ignoring the way you bite your lip.
He studies your face for a minute before smirking again. "You're dabbling in illegal motorsports and can't look me in the eye."
You wince.
You murmur, "well then maybe you should say directly what you mean then."
You're so cute like this, pretending you don't like him too.
He walks around the table to face you properly. All of a sudden you can imagine your name on his back as he gets into the vehicle to race, as the stands to hear the cheers of the crowd. He'd wear it well. He coughs to get your attention.
“I’m saying.” He places his hands on his hips, shrugging as he goes. “Maybe let's be married. Just one day.”
Only, he doesn't intend for it to be one day. He wants you to remember your last name on him, keep the moment in your head; he'll wear it better than anyone else.
It is at that moment when the times come out and the trophies are awarded that he drapes his arm around your waist. The wink he throws your way, accomplice. Spectators ask what's his name.
And this is the moment you become more than his financier or the bets you place on him to win.
He speaks it into the microphone, proud for the stadium, the world. to hear.
And this is the moment you glance up at him with more than just a shallow smile, saying 'congrats'.
The word reverberates over the race track in a powerful wave.
He spoke into the microphone and the name is yours.
pt. 1
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calicoheartz · 7 months ago
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Caitlin x fem!reader fic based on:
jealousy, jealousy - Olivia Rodrigo 👀
The reader is jealous because Caitlin and her teammates get along really well, and people start shipping CC and Kate Martin. But then people also start claiming that they've seen CC and Kate kiss after a game. Angst and fluff, please?🥹
-🦢
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Jealousy, Jealousy ; Caitlin Clark
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꣑୧ — summary | basically the prompt !
wc ; 889
— warnings | angst (lots of it) mature themes , jealousy , reader is fem!
my master list ㇀♡
a/n : I absolutely love writing fics based on songs! Thank u so much anon 🎀 enjoy besties! ◡̈
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The gymnasium buzzed with energy, the familiar sound of basketball shoes squeaking against the polished floor mingling with the cheers of the crowd. Cait, with her fiery determination and lightning-fast moves, commanded the court, effortlessly leading her team to victory. But amidst the celebration, an uneasy feeling gnawed at the back of your mind.
As you watched Caitlin interact with her teammates, laughter flowing freely between them, you couldn't shake the feeling of insecurity creeping into your heart. They seemed so close, so comfortable with each other, and you couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy at the thought of anyone else sharing Caitlin's attention.
Caitlin's easy and close friendship with her teammates grated against your insecurities like sandpaper on skin, not because you didn’t specifically like it, but you felt like there was something more going on. They shared inside jokes, traded playful banter, and seemed to have an unspoken bond that left you feeling like an outsider looking in. You tried to brush off the feeling, to convince yourself that it was just your own jealousy interfering, but the doubt lingered and followed you like a shadow.
Every photo you saw, ever headline you read, only reiterated the intense thoughts harboring in the back of your mind, that you would and will never be enough for Caitlin.
❝ Got a pretty face, a pretty ‘girlfriend’ too
I wanna be you so bad, and I don't even know you ❞
As the whispers grew louder, fueled by the relentless speculation of the media, your anxiety reached a breaking point. People started shipping Caitlin with Kate Martin, her fellow star player, and the rumors only escalated from there. It seemed like every headline painted a picture of their supposed romance, their chemistry on and off the court sparking a wildfire of speculation.
You tried to ignore it, to bury your doubts beneath a facade of indifference, but the cracks were starting to show. And then came the final blow – whispers of a kiss shared between Caitlin and Kate after a game, a betrayal etched in the shadows of the locker room.
The news hit you like a sucker punch to the gut, stealing the breath from your lungs and leaving you reeling in its wake. You wanted to believe that it was all a misunderstanding, that there was a logical explanation for what people claimed to have seen, but the doubt festered like an open wound.
Confrontation became inevitable, a storm gathering on the horizon with no hope of reprieve. You found Caitlin in the locker room, her laughter ringing hollow in your ears as you approached, the weight of your words heavy on your tongue.
"What's wrong?" she asked, concern etched into every line of her face.
You tried to speak, to voice the turmoil raging inside you, but the words caught in your throat like shards of glass. Caitlin's brow furrowed in confusion, her gaze searching yours for answers you couldn't bring yourself to give.
And then it all spilled out in a torrent of emotion, your fears and insecurities pouring forth like a flood. You accused her of betrayal, of choosing her teammates over you, of breaking your trust in the cruelest of ways. The words hung in the air, a bitter taste lingering on your tongue as you waited for her response.
Caitlin's expression shifted from confusion to shock, her eyes widening in disbelief as the weight of your accusations settled between you like a chasm too vast to bridge. For a moment, there was only silence, the air thick with tension as you both grappled with the wreckage of your relationship.
And then she spoke, her voice barely a whisper against the roar of your emotions. She denied the rumors, swore on everything she held dear that there was nothing between her and Kate, that she would never betray your trust in such a way.
But the damage was done, the fracture in your relationship too deep to repair with mere words. You turned away, the weight of your doubts heavy on your shoulders as you walked away from the wreckage of what once was, the echoes of Caitlin's voice fading into the distance like a distant memory of love lost.
She chases after you, grabbing ahold of your arm before quickly saying, "Hey, look at me," she said, her voice soft but firm. "Those rumors, they're just that – rumors. Kate and I are just friends, nothing more. And as for what people claim to have seen... it's all lies, I swear."
You searched her eyes, seeking the truth in their depths, and found nothing but sincerity staring back at you. A weight lifted from your shoulders, the knot of tension in your chest slowly unraveling as you allowed yourself to believe her.
Your eyes glued to the floor as you try to resonate with her, to try and find it in you to move past these allegations, to allow yourself to freely love your girlfriend with the pressures from the media or society seemingly trying to tear you apart.
Your eyes glaze as you mumble out a simple, “thank you, for that- I believe you.”, after hearing this, the brunette wrapped her strong arms around you, intertwining her hands with yours as you exit the arena, making sure to prioritize communication in the future.
i feel like it’s been forever since I’ve written angst so this was very much needed !! tysm for reading 💌
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