#they kind of want to punch him for the fun of it

[mononijikayu]

until i found you — ryomen sukuna.

"I figured you’d be into something more... aggressive music." you admitted, watching as he leaned back, arms crossed, listening intently. He scoffed. "What, you think I only listen to music that makes me wanna fight people?" "...Yes?" "Tch. Idiot." He turned his attention back to the music, tapping his fingers idly against his knee. "This one’s alright. But Tchaikovsky’s better." Your jaw dropped. "Wait, you like Tchaikovsky?" "Yeah? And what?" You shook your head in disbelief. "I just... I wouldn’t have guessed." "What, you think I don't have taste?" "I know you don’t have taste."

Genre: Alternate Universe — College! AU;

Warning/s: Short Fic, General Rating, AFAB! Reader, Use of She/Her, Use of Female Centered Identification, Pet Names (Babe, My Love, Etc), Romance, Fluff, Humour, Love, Comfort/No Hurt, Established Relationship, Lovers, Dating, Feeling, Light-Hearted, Slice of Life, Idiots In Love, Domestic, Domestic Fluff, Teasing, Healthy Relationship, Friendships, Profanity, Swearing, Violence, Depiction of Violence, Mention of Violence, Volleyball Captain! Sukuna, Boyfriend! Sukuna, Girlfriend! Reader;

Words: 8.6k words.

Note: i'm so sorry for the delay on the satosugu fic, the time frame of my schedule is not allowing me to go and finish it. its going to be delayed. as my apology, please enjoy this litle thing from me. also, im opening commissions, so if you wanna commission me, look here!!! in any case, i love you all so much. see you soon <3

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IT WAS NOT LOVE AT FIRST SIGHT LIKE EVERYONE THINKS IT IS.  Not all love stories were meant to be that, after all. But it was interesting nonetheless that it was how you got to know about him for the first time.

The first thing you heard from where you stood was that rather brutish hit of impact. A dull, sickening thud followed by a sharp grunt of pain.

The loud and rowdy crowd that had gathered near the school gate was already thick by the time you arrived. At the back where you stood, their voices a mix of eager whispers and nervous gasps.

A fight wasn’t uncommon near the school, there were quite a lot of delinquents in your school. Even the teachers were wanting to stay clear of it. But the sheer energy in the air told you this wasn’t just any fight. 

You pushed up on your toes trying to see above all these tall figures, craning your neck to see past the wall of uniformed backs. And that’s when you spotted him. Your eyes couldn’t help but widen at the sight you were seeing now. 

That pink haired standing tall above that guy.

His name escaped you, but you’ve heard of him. His name carried weight even in places he had never stepped foot in. If anything, it brought chills to people’s spines. The goosebumps were always felt just at the mention of his name, just as much as fear echoes when you catch his darkened eyes. You’ve never seen him before, that was for sure. But you’ve heard of him. And he had quite the name. 

This is what your friends were talking about. This is a delinquent in the purest sense—not the kind that smoked behind the gym and skipped class for fun, but the kind who sent people to the hospital and still walked away with that damned smirk on his face. And he was smirking now.

Even with the blood bellowing down on his lip, the brutally raw scrape on his knuckles ensuing through each punch, the loose tie hanging off his collar. You could tell he just really looked bored.

That had surprised you more than anything, if you were being honest. You thought that this would at least feel like a thrill for him. Violence usually feels like that. You would have thought a delinquent would feel that way.

Yet it was like he was toying with the guy in front of him, who was hunched over helplessly, clutching his ribs and struggling to breathe at the act of being beaten down by the fiend in front of him.

And still, it was the most uninteresting thing he’s ever found himself doing. This fuschia haired young boy seemed so bored at the prospect of this kid not being able to fight back, or be interesting.

“Oi.” Sukuna drawled, tilting his head as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “You done already? That’s pathetic.”

The other guy barely managed to lift his head before the fuschia haired kid moved—fluid, effortless, the kind of speed that made it clear this wasn’t just some reckless brawl. His fist collided with the guy’s jaw, sending him staggering back into the school gate with a loud clang.

“I thought you’d have more fun fighting, huh? You were having so much fun staring at a girl’s skirt just a bit, weren’t you? Come on, you prick. Get up!” 

Somewhere in the crowd, someone flinched. 

Someone else muttered a curse under their breath.

And you—you just stared at what was happening in front of you.

It wasn’t just the violence that had you frozen. It was the way he carried himself, the sheer audacity in every motion. He wasn’t just winning. He was playing over and over again like it was a game, even if it wasn’t. Like a predator dragging out the inevitable just because he could. And he wanted to hunt, he wanted to eat the weak from down under his feet. 

Then, his scarlet gaze lifted.

For a single, breathless second, your eyes met.

A slow, deliberate shift came about him. It was like he had known you were watching the entire time but only now decided to acknowledge it. The corner of his mouth curled upward, something dark and knowing twisting in his expression.

He had noticed you.

A strange heat crawled up your spine, a mix of adrenaline and unease. You weren’t sure what unnerved you more. The fact that he had seen you, or the fact that you couldn’t look away.

 His gaze had been fleeting. It was just a flicker of recognition before he turned back to his opponent. Yet, the fight wasn’t over.

And for some reason, you got the feeling that this wouldn’t be the last time Ryomen Sukuna looked your way. The thought made something tighten in your chest. Then all that was left was a a sharp crack.

A dull, sickening thud as his beaten opponent hit the pavement, groaning in pain. You barely had time to process it as you held your breath, before someone beside you finally snapped out of their stunned daze.

“Someone there, please go and call the teachers to break up the fight!”

The voice jolted you back to reality. A murmur rippled through the crowd—some of the students were panicked, the others seemed to be too excited, some already pulling out their phones and calling help, some were taking a video. 

But that pink haired kid? 

He just laughed.

Low, rough, full of something almost thrilled as he rolled his shoulders and cracked his neck, like the fight had barely warmed him up. The poor bastard groaned, barely managing to lift his head before slumping back down.

“You done?” he asked, gaze dropping to the guy on the ground.

The pink haired kid merely scoffed, brushing dust off his uniform before turning away, completely unbothered. Then his gaze flickered up again. Right at you. It barely lasted only a second. But it was intentional. Like he was acknowledging you. Marking you.

And just like that, with teachers finally rushing onto the scene, that kid with the pink hair turned on his heel and walked off, slipping through the growing chaos like he hadn’t just left another name to fear in his wake. You exhaled, stomach tight, fingers curled into your sleeves.

You should forget this. Forget him.

But you knew—deep down, you wouldn’t.

And something told you that he wouldn’t, either.

══════════════════

YOU WERE SURE THAT THIS WAS GOING TO BE YOUR PEACEFUL TIME. After all, the school rooftop was supposed to be empty during lunch time. Lately, it has been your sanctuary after a long morning of back to back classes.

It was the one place you could escape to when the noise of everything became too much, when the dull routine of school felt suffocating. Up here, the wind was sharp, the air felt clearer, and for just a little while, you could be alone.

But today, someone else was here.

Someone wasn’t supposed to be there.

Yet you can tell someone up there from just the slit of the door.

You quickly noticed him the moment you stepped through the rooftop door. It was a figure sprawled across the concrete near the fence, arms behind his head, one knee bent, the other leg lazily extended.

Even before you fully registered who it was, your body tensed, instincts screaming at you to retreat. But then your eyes landed on his face, and your breath caught in your throat. That kid from the fight on the first day.

Wait, what the hell? You think to yourself almost panicked. Why is he here?

You tried to remember his name for a moment, racking your brain.

That’s right! You gasped quietly to yourself. It’s Ryomen. Ryomen Sukuna. That’s what his name was!

Even asleep, he looked like trouble. His uniform was rumpled, the first few buttons undone, his tie discarded somewhere beside him. A faint cut graced his cheekbone. It seems to be fresh, like he had gotten into another fight earlier but couldn’t be bothered to clean up before crashing here. He must have been exhausted from the fight.

You should leave. You really should. The last thing you needed was to get caught in his orbit. But the thought of giving up your quiet retreat made frustration coil in your stomach. So, with careful, measured steps, you sat down a few feet away, placing your lunch in your lap and making sure to keep your movements silent. Maybe—just maybe—if you were lucky, he wouldn’t wake up.

You weren’t lucky. It happened in an instant. A low breath, a subtle shift. Then, his scarlet eyes snapped open. A cold, sinking weight settled in your chest as your gaze locked with his.

It was the first time you had ever seen his eyes up close. 

They weren’t just sharp, they were dangerous. It was like a blade that glinted under the light, beautiful in its lethality. There was no haze of sleep in them, no confusion. Just silent, unwavering awareness. A predator waking to find someone in its space. His gaze flicked over you, slow and deliberate, before settling back on your face.

“…...The hell are you staring at?” His voice was rough from sleep, low and edged with irritation.

You stiffened, fingers tightening around your chopsticks. Your brain scrambled for a response, something that wouldn’t make this worse. “…Nothing.”

His thick brow twitched. For a second, you thought he might call you out on your lie. But he seemed too tired to even care. Ryomen Sukuna let out a lazy scoff, stretching his arms over his head with a bone-popping crack before settling back down.

“Tch. Whatever.”

And just like that, he closed his eyes again.

You blinked. That was it?

No sneering remarks? No challenge?

The tension in your chest didn’t ease, but the kid didn’t seem to care about your presence anymore. Like you weren’t worth his energy. Like you were barely an afterthought.

The wind carried the distant sound of the school bell ringing in the distance, signaling the lunch break was halfway over. You forced yourself to exhale, slow and steady, before finally peeling open your lunch box.

Maybe, just maybe, you could still eat in peace.

But something told you this wasn’t the last time your paths would cross.

And that thought was far more unnerving than you wanted to admit.

You tried to ignore him.

Tried to focus on your lunch, on the way the wind ruffled your uniform, on the distant sounds of students laughing below. Anything but the fact that Ryomen Sukuna was still there, barely a few feet away, resting like he owned the entire rooftop.

But no matter how much you tried to tune him out from the background as you ate, the weight of his presence lingered. It was like a storm cloud on the horizon, waiting to crack open.

The silence just continued to stretch through the blowing winds. Then, you felt a shift. A quiet, subtle rustling of fabric as the fuschia haired kid turned his head slightly, cracking one eye open in your direction.

“You always eat up here?”

You faltered mid-bite. “Huh?”

His tone wasn’t particularly interested in what you were doing or why you were here, but the fact that he was speaking to you at all was… unsettling. Everything about this moment just felt too tense, it was making your stomach spin. A moment passed before you swallowed and forced yourself to respond. 

“…Yeah.” You finally whispered back at him.

Sukuna made a low sound—half amusement, half acknowledgment. “Tch. Thought so. You don’t look like the type to sit with all the other idiots down there.”

You frowned, unsure whether that was supposed to be an insult or not. But he didn’t elaborate. Instead, he shifted onto his side, propping himself up on one elbow now, watching you with an unreadable expression. It made your skin prickle.

“…What?” you muttered, feeling the need to break the silence.

His smirk curled slow and lazy, like he was enjoying something only he understood. “Nothing.”

Liar. You think to yourself, gripping your chopsticks too hard. This kid…..

His scarlet gaze stayed on you for a second longer, then, without another word, he flopped back down, arms behind his head once more. A breeze passed between you, carrying the faint scent of metal and sweat. It was as though the remnants of whatever fight he had been in earlier bristles past you both.

You should have been relieved that he lost interest, that he wasn’t prying any further. But something about the way he had looked at you left an uneasy weight in your chest. As if, despite everything, despite the distance you had tried to keep.  He had just decided you were interesting.

You tried to keep eating, but your appetite had taken a hit. Something about the way Ryomen Sukuna had looked at you unnerved you. It was that look, that lazy, knowing, look. It was like he had already decided something about you. And that had more than ever made it hard to focus on anything else.

The rooftop had always been your place. 

It was your quiet retreat to begin with. 

But now, with him here, it felt different. 

Everything just felt like it was off-balance, occupied.

You stole a glance at him. He was still lying there, arms behind his head, eyes closed again like he hadn’t just made your skin crawl a moment ago. His breathing was steady, his expression unreadable, but you knew better than to think he wasn’t aware of everything around him.

He was too sharp for that. The last thing you wanted was to let him think he had you rattled, so you forced yourself to eat. One bite. Another. Just ignore him. You were going to finish with your meal soon enough.

You can go back and take a walk after this. You busied yourself with finishing the meal, letting the silence reign over. But the silence didn’t last long, as you would like to hope.

“So?”

You paused mid-chew, blinking. “What?”

Sukuna didn’t move. “How long are you gonna sit there pretending I don’t exist?”

You stiffened. His voice was laced with amusement, but there was something else underneath it. You couldn’t help but think that there was something unreadable in there. It was mysterious, it was a pandemonium you could never know escape from. It was like he remains that sphinx who wants your attention to solve his enigma.

“I’m not pretending about anything.” you muttered, keeping your gaze on your lunch.

“Yeah?” A soft chuckle, low and lazy. “Then why do you look so tense?”

Your chopsticks froze in place. You weren’t tense. Were you? That had made you sit still, even more frozen than before as you start to question yourself. Before you could answer, Ryomen Sukuna finally moved, rolling onto his side to look at you again. The way his sharp eyes dragged over you made your spine go rigid, and you hated that he noticed.

“Tch.” he scoffed. “You really don’t talk much, huh?”

You swallowed down your irritation. “I don’t see a reason to.”

That made him smirk. “Smart.”

You didn’t know why, but the word felt like a backhanded compliment. Then, as if he had already lost interest, he flopped back onto his back, exhaling like he had all the intention of that being his last breath to you. 

This whole interaction was nothing more than an afterthought to him. 

You should have been relieved all about it. 

But somehow, you just weren’t.

Because for some reason, Ryomen Sukuna’s presence lingered in your mind like a storm you couldn’t quite ignore. Even as you left that place, knowing he’d fallen back asleep, you found yourself in a quagmire of him. Your lips pressed into a line as you walked back into the hallways. You had a sinking feeling that this wasn’t the last time you’d find him up here.

And you were right to feel it. 

A few days passed.

And just as you feared, Ryomen Sukuna did in fact keep showing up.

The first time that happened, you thought it was a coincidence. Maybe he was just skipping class, maybe he liked the solitude too, though nothing about Ryomen Sukuna screamed quiet loner.

But by the fifth time, you knew better.

You pushed open the rooftop door one afternoon, lunch in hand, only to find him already there—again. This time, he was sitting up, arms resting on his knees, a cigarette dangling between his fingers, the smoke curling lazily in the breeze.

You hesitated in the doorway. “That’s illegal for a kid to do, you know?”

“Does it matter?” He glanced at you, expression unreadable. “You’re late.”

Your grip tightened on your lunchbox. “I didn’t know we had a schedule.”

A lazy smirk pulled at his lips. “We do now.”

You didn’t respond, just walked past him and sat in your usual spot, a careful distance away. Ryomen Sukuna didn’t say anything after that, just went back to watching the sky, flicking ash from his cigarette with a slow, practiced motion.

It was almost peaceful, you would say. Well, almost. But even in silence, he was there, taking up space, shifting the air around him like gravity itself bent to his will. And you hated that you were starting to get used to it. It was starting to get a little bit more comfortable to you, the concept of being together.

Halfway through your meal, he spoke again. “What’s your deal?”

You blinked. “What?”

He turned his head slightly, looking at you with a lazy sort of curiosity. “You. You always eat alone, you don’t talk much, and you look like you’d rather be anywhere else.”

You frowned, ignoring the prickle of irritation at how easily he had read you. “Maybe I just don’t like people.”

Sukuna chuckled, low and amused. “Yeah? Same.”

He flicked the cigarette away, watching the embers burn out as it hit the concrete. Then, before you could think of a response, he leaned back against the metal chain linked fence, stretching his arms out over the metal railing, and exhaled like he had just decided something.

“Guess I’ll keep you company, then.”

You nearly choked. “Excuse me?”

Sukuna grinned, sharp and cocky. “You don’t like people. I don’t like people. We can not like people together.”

You stared at him, searching for some kind of punchline, some hint that he was messing with you. But he just looked at you, completely at ease, like he had already made up his mind and your opinion didn’t matter. Something about that made your stomach twist.

You narrowed your eyes. “I didn’t ask for company.”

He shrugged. “Too bad. You’ve interested me.”

You frowned. Interested in him?

That wasn’t something you wanted. 

Not from Ryomen Sukuna.

Your chopsticks hovered over your lunch as you tried to pretend like his words didn’t bother you, but you could feel his scarlet gaze still on you—watching, studying. Like you were a puzzle he was in no rush to solve, content just to poke at the pieces and see what happened.

“That’s not my problem, Ryomen.” you muttered, stabbing a piece of food a little too aggressively.

Sukuna only chuckled, the sound low and amused. “You’re acting like you have a choice.”

That made your eye twitch. You set your chopsticks down with a quiet click, turning to finally face him. “I do have a choice.”

He smirked, head tilting slightly. “Do you?”

His confidence was infuriating. And you hated how smooth it was. You hated how he just knows he’s right.  He wasn’t asking you. You knew that. He was stating, dictating as if he had already decided the outcome, as if whatever you thought didn’t really matter. And that irritated you more than anything else.

“You can’t just show up here and declare that we’re friends or something.” you snapped.

Sukuna scoffed. “Who said anything about being friends?”

That threw you off. “…Then what the hell do you want?”

He grinned, sharp and wolfish, like he had been waiting for you to ask. “Dunno. You’re interesting. Thought I’d stick around and see what you do.”

Your stomach twisted at that.

Like you were some kind of entertainment.

God, how much you wanted to curse just now.

Your lips pressed into a thin line. “I’m not here to entertain you.”

Sukuna leaned back against the fence, completely unfazed. “Good. That’d be boring.”

You exhaled through your nose, trying to wick away the irritation bubbling under your skin. There was no point in arguing with him. The more you pushed, the more he seemed to enjoy it. So instead, you picked up your chopsticks and ignored him.

A breeze swept through the rooftop. Ryomen Sukuna didn’t speak again, but you could still feel his presence lingering beside you—heavy, unwavering, unmoving. It wasn’t a threat. Not exactly. But it wasn’t nothing, either.

And deep down, you had the unsettling feeling that no matter how much you resisted, no matter how much space you tried to put between yourself and him. Sukuna had already decided. And he wasn’t going anywhere. Just like that, that conversation was over.

You watched as Sukuna leaned back against the fence again, tilting his head up toward the sky, completely unbothered, like he hadn’t just decided to insert himself into your space without permission. Like it was inevitable. And deep down, no matter how much you wanted to deny it as you ate your lunch, you had a feeling he wasn’t wrong.

══════════════════

YOU REALLY SHOULD HAVE NOT LET HIM DECIDE THIS ‘FRIENDSHIP’ YOU BOTH HAVE. You really should have known when to put your foot down. But you just really were not that good at getting it across as he has. This is why you were stuck in this situation. You glared as you sat there and decided that Ryomen Sukuna was an absolute menace.

Your new friend was someone who was a feared name across campus. A natural-born fighter. A troublemaker with a cocky smirk and a sharp tongue that could tear people apart just as effectively as his fists.

And yet, here he was irritating you to death with that smirk on his lips as he quipped you a new joke you absolutely hated. Here he was, sitting on the rooftop like some stray cat, drinking a strawberry milk carton and eating anpan like a child at recess.

You like to think that if he was just not making those annoying jokes and just sat down and let you watch him eat in silence, mayhaps you would be more mildly amused as he took slow sips of the sweet drink.

“You look like you’re thinking too hard, hm?” Sukuna said, voice full of that lazy, smug amusement that made your eyes twitch.

You didn’t respond. Just glared. Ryomen Sukuna, looking unfazed as always, took another obnoxiously slow sip of his strawberry milk, the straw making an irritating slurping noise that set your teeth on edge.

“Let me guess…..” he continued, tapping his chin in mock thought. “You’re wondering how the hell you got stuck with me, aren’t you?”

You set your lunch down with a sharp click and gave him a look. “I wasn’t wondering. I know exactly how. You forced it.”

Sukuna grinned. “Damn right, I did.”

You wanted to throw his anpan off the roof.

It was insufferable, how much he enjoyed this, how much he enjoyed riling you up. Lately, it was like it was his new favorite pastime. And the worst part? You weren’t even sure if he was doing it on purpose or if he was just naturally this unbearable.

“You could, you know.” he mused, watching you with an almost amused curiosity.

You frowned. “Could what?”

He smirked. “Tell me to get lost. Put your foot down. Give me a real reason to leave.”

Your fingers clenched slightly, grip tightening around your chopsticks. He was daring you. Testing you. He wanted to see if you’d actually do it. And the problem was—you should. You really should. But the words wouldn’t come out.

Because despite how much he irritated you, despite how much you wanted to not be in this situation… there was a part of you that knew: Ryomen Sukuna wasn’t just a delinquent. He wasn’t just a troublemaker or some violent, cocky bastard who liked to fight. 

You knew that he was a force of nature, one that has overwhelmed you more than anything else. And trying to push him away was like trying to tell a storm to stop blowing. So instead of answering, you just scowled and turned back to your food, hoping he’d drop it.

Sukuna chuckled, shaking his head as he took another sip of his drink. “Yeah. That’s what I thought.”

Menace. Absolute menace.

You were never getting rid of him.

And worst of all? You weren’t even sure if you wanted to anymore.

You could only sigh as the long reach of his fingers lazily crinkled the carton. The contrast between his usual rough demeanor and this absurdly peaceful moment never failed to amuse you. More often than not, after these little breaks, he would stretch his legs out, lean against the railing, and pass out. Like clockwork.

And somehow, without either of you ever talking about it, it became a routine. You would sit beside him, pretending to read or scroll through your phone, only to glance at him as he inevitably dozed off, arms crossed, head tilting slightly to the side.

There were times when he’d wake up with a soft mutter. "Well, well, well. You’re still here, aren’t you?"

And you would always reply the same way. "Well, yeah. Someone’s gotta make sure you don’t roll off the roof and die."

At first, he just scoffed at you. 

But over time, it changed.

The thanks he used to mutter under his breath became a little clearer. The hesitation in his voice lessened. And then there were the nights when he wasn’t just tired—he was beat. Bruised knuckles, scuffed knees, a split lip that he’d wipe with the back of his hand as if it was nothing.

You had quietly started bringing bandages for him from time to time. The first time you handed him some, he stared at them like you had just offered him a kidney. It was really a pitiful sight, that look in his eyes, both of you knew that.

And yet all at once, it was interesting. That warmth you never expected to see in his eyes. One that he had never expected to feel, one that you had never expected to know.

“Don’t need ‘em right now.” he muttered.

You just stared back. “Sure you don’t.”

He clicked his tongue, but after a moment, he snatched them from your hand anyway. “Tch. You’re so damn nosy.”

That continued for a while. And somehow, that too evolved. At some point, mealtime got involved. It started with him watching you eat one day, his gaze flicking between you and your food like he was debating whether or not to ask.

“You want some?” you finally said, raising an eyebrow.

He scoffed. “No.”

Not even five minutes later, his gaze still hadn’t left your food.

You sighed. “You’re a terrible liar, goddamn. All you eat is anpan. Of course you want this.”

“Shut up.”

You ended up splitting your lunch with him that day. At times, you realized he had a bigger appetite. So you pack more and more, so you both can share more food to last you the day for energy. 

You thought it would be a one off thing, but then you kept packing more and more every day. And then the next. And then the day after that. And somehow, before you even realized it, lunch breaks together on the school rooftop became another routine, like a picnic made for the two of you. Some days, you’d talk about random things between bites.

"Have you ever thought about how weird the school anthem is? Like, who wrote that?"

"Probably some dead guy, stop overthinking it." He snickers, eating the lunch you made for him. 

On the other mundane days, you’d find yourselves caught up in a very serious competition over stolen playing card games he brings to school. Well, card games he finds somewhere you didn’t even want to think about.

"You pocketed these off a junior?" you asked in disbelief, shuffling the deck.

Sukuna smirked, leaning back against the railing. "Dumbass lost a bet."

"You bullied a much younger kid for this?"

"Tch. He knew the stakes."

You shook your head but still dealt the cards. 

Because at this point, why not?

So, you just go with this flow, yeah.

The feared, notorious Ryomen Sukuna was a force to be reckoned with. But somehow, between all the rooftop naps, strawberry milk cartons, late afternoon bandages, and card games, you had carved out a space in his life. And whether he admitted it or not, he didn’t really mind.

And it’s even more weirdly freaky that you and Sukuna ended up sharing a habit of listening to music whenever you had free time. You had your own preferences, of course, but one day, when you passed him one of your earbuds, you were shocked to realize that he actually liked classical music.

"I figured you’d be into something more... aggressive music." you admitted, watching as he leaned back, arms crossed, listening intently.

He scoffed. "What, you think I only listen to music that makes me wanna fight people?"

"...Yes?"

"Tch. Idiot." He turned his attention back to the music, tapping his fingers idly against his knee. "This one’s alright. But Tchaikovsky’s better."

Your jaw dropped. "Wait, you like Tchaikovsky?"

"Yeah? And what?"

You shook your head in disbelief. "I just... I wouldn’t have guessed."

"What, you think I don't have taste?"

"I know you don’t have taste."

He flicked your forehead. That was the day you realized Ryomen Sukuna wasn’t just a brutish boy. If anything, he actually had opinions on things outside of fighting and being a bad boy. And, as it turned out, music wasn’t the only thing.

One afternoon, while you were sitting on the rooftop as usual, Ryomen Sukuna casually pulled out a book and flipped it open, acting like this was completely normal. Your whole mouth was agape to the floor, you were sure of that.  

You blinked. "You read?"

He shot you a deadpan look. "No, I just stare at pages for fun."

You rolled your eyes, watching as he turned the page with the ease of someone who had definitely done this more than once. "...What’re you reading?"

"Something you wouldn’t get."

You raised an eyebrow. "Try me."

Instead of answering, he tossed the book at you. 

You barely caught it before flipping to the cover.

"...I’ve never heard of this one."

"Figures." he smirked, leaning back against the railing. "You read the boring stuff."

You scoffed. "Excuse me, but I read classics."

"Exactly. Boring."

You gasped, clutching your chest in mock offense. "Oh how dare you?"

He snickers. “I’ll lend you my books, don’t worry. Now sit down and break my ear from your screaming.”

“Oh shut up!”

From then on, lending each other books became a thing. Sometimes, it was casual. Other times, it turned into heated debates over themes, characters, and why the hell Ryomen Sukuna thought the antagonist was right.

But the best part?

Every time he lent you a book, you always found little notes scribbled in the margins—much or less half of them insightful, half of them just him being an ass.

("This guy’s an idiot. Don’t be like him.")

("Bet you didn’t see that twist coming, nerd.")

("I already know you’re gonna argue with me about this part, so don’t even start.")

And you did argue.

But somehow, you wouldn’t have it any other way. 

What started as a random book exchange had slowly become something bigger. It wasn’t just about lending each other books or debating over plot twists anymore. It was the way you’d catch Ryomen Sukuna leaning back in his chair, flipping through a book you’d recommended, his brow furrowed in thought.

Or the way he’d glance at you while you read one of his books, waiting for your reaction whenever you hit a major plot point. It was subtle, but it was there. And the teasing, of course, never stopped. You caught him very obviously staring at you while you were finishing one of his books.

You turned to him, raising an eyebrow. “Something on my face?”

He smirked. “Nah, just wondering if you finally get why I was right.”

You huffed, snapping the book shut. “You’re not right.”

“I am.”

“You aren’t!”

“Okay, okay.” he drawled, stretching his arms over his head. “Let’s hear it then, Professor. Enlighten me.”

You scooted closer, pointing aggressively at a passage in the book. “Alright, listen, in this part—”

And that was how you both spent an entire afternoon, passionately arguing over fictional characters like it was a life-or-death situation.

Then came the day you discovered something else. Something about yourself.

And all it took was another day, another afternoon spent on the rooftop.

The sun was warm but not unbearable, the breeze just strong enough to rustle your hair as you leaned against the railing. Beside you, Sukuna sat cross-legged, nursing his beloved cold and fresh strawberry milk carton like it was some kind of divine nectar.

He tilted his head back, taking a long sip before letting out a very satisfied sigh. “Damn, this never gets old.”

You side-eyed him. “You sound like an old man reminiscing about his youth.”

“Tch.” He shot you a lazy smirk. “Better an old man than a nerd who stays up all night studying.”

You gasped, dramatically clutching your chest. “How dare you insult my commitment to academia?”

Sukuna chuckled, reaching into his pocket before casually pulling out a deck of cards. “Alright, nerd. Put your commitment to good use and try to beat me today.”

You narrowed your eyes. “Why do I get the feeling you cheat at this?”

He raised a brow, feigning innocence. “Would I ever?”

“Yes.”

Before he could retort, the rooftop door slammed open, and a very familiar, very exasperated voice rang out. “There you are!”

Both of you turned to see one of your classmates panting at the doorway, hands on their knees.

They pointed an accusatory finger at you. “You skipped the study group!”

Sukuna turned to you, eyes twinkling with amusement. “Oh? Nerd’s skipping study group? Scandalous.”

You groaned, rubbing your temples. “It’s one session.”

“You never skip.” Your classmate shot a pointed glance at Sukuna, then back at you, suspicion creeping into their features. “Wait. Are you guys dating?”

You froze. “H–huh? What the—”

Ryomen Sukuna—because he was Ryomen Sukuna—immediately grinned like the menace he was.

“Damn, caught in the act, babe.” he drawled, draping an arm over your shoulder. “Guess the secret’s out.”

You smacked his arm away, face heating up. “Oh my god, shut up!”

Your classmate screeched. “You didn’t deny it—”

“BECAUSE HE’S AN IDIOT!” you practically shouted, shoving Sukuna off as he cackled at your suffering.

“Uh-huh.” they said, clearly not convinced. “I’m telling everyone—”

Sukuna smirked. “Go ahead. Maybe then everyone will finally stop flirting with her and I won’t have to glare at every idiot who tries.”

Your classmate’s jaw dropped. “Oh we’re at that level now, huh?”

You, on the other hand, were about two seconds away from exploding. “SUKUNA—”

“Tch, what? I’m just saying what we both know.”

“WE BOTH KNOW NOTHING.”

But even as you yelled at him, he just leaned back, smug as ever, sipping the last of his strawberry milk like he hadn’t just casually dropped a bomb on you and everyone with his stupid conversations.

And somehow, despite the absolute chaos he always brought into your life, you wouldn’t have it any other way. You would choose to be by his side if you were given the choice. Both you knew it too.

══════════════════

HE NEVER REALLY THOUGHT IT WOULD GO THIS FAR. But he doesn’t think he can enjoy going to school without seeing you on the rooftop with him. This is what entices him to even want to go to school. Slowly but surely, Ryomen Sukuna began to enjoy himself in your presence like this. 

At first, it was subtle. So subtle that even he barely noticed it. The way his shoulders loosened when he was around you. The way his scowl softened when you teased him. The way he didn’t mind sharing his space, his food, his time with you.

Slowly but surely, he found himself eager for your attention more and more. It started with little things. Like how he’d glance at you first when he finally made a really good joke, just to see if you were laughing.

Or how, even in a crowded room, his eyes instinctively sought you out. How he’d nudge you with his knee when he was bored, just to get you to acknowledge him.

It was annoying. This thing he felt whenever you weren’t near. But you were the only true constant he had, you were the only one that he could find as permanence in the life lived with change. The only one who hadn’t turned away. The only one who didn’t look at him like he was some monster.

And one day, that thought made him stop in his tracks.

You weren’t looking at him badly at all.

You never had, even when you first met him.

Which made no damn sense.

One late afternoon, as you sat together on the rooftop, the sky a deep shade of blue hour in its peak indigo, Ryomen Sukuna found himself blurting out the question that had been gnawing at him for weeks.

“…Why do you stay by my side?”

You looked up from your book, blinking at him. “Huh?”

“I don’t get it.” He leaned back, arms crossed, frowning. “Why the hell do you hang around me? Everyone else either avoids me or wants something from me. But you just—”

"What?" You asked him.

He scowled, struggling to find the right words. “You just stay.”

You tilted your head, smiling slightly. “Because you’re interesting.”

He stared at you like you had grown a second head. “That’s your reason?”

“Yup.”

Sukuna scoffed. “You saw me beat a guy half to death on the first day.”

You laughed, shrugging. “But didn’t you do that because he was looking under a girl’s skirt?”

He paused at your words.

Suddenly, it was just a click.

Something in his chest clicked in place.

He hadn’t even thought about it back then. It wasn’t like he had done it to be some noble hero, he just didn’t like creeps. It was as simple as that. But the fact that you saw it that way? That you had been watching him just as closely as he had been watching you?

It made his ears burn hot red.

“Tch.” He looked away, clicking his tongue. “Still dumb of you to stick around for that.”

You grinned, nudging his arm. “Nah. I think I made a pretty good choice. I mean there were other things that came with that.”

And damn it, he hated how much he liked hearing that.

From that moment on, something shifted between you and Sukuna. Well, at least for him. He wouldn’t say it out loud—not yet, at least—but he had stopped questioning why you stayed. Maybe it was because you weren’t afraid of him. 

Maybe it was because you always had a way of looking at him that made him feel like he wasn’t just some guy people feared. Maybe it was because, for the first time in his life, he didn’t feel like he had to prove himself to someone. You were just there.

And somehow, that was enough for him.

But of course, he wasn’t about to get all sappy about it.

He doesn’t dare be that loud about it.

“Alright, genius.” He leaned back, arms crossed, watching you scribble some scientific formula on your massive notepad. “If I’m so interesting, what’s the most interesting thing about me?”

You didn’t even hesitate. “You pretend to be meaner than you are.”

Sukuna scoffed. “Tch. Pretend?”

“Mhm.” You smirked. “You act like you don’t care, but you do.”

“No, I don’t.”

“Yes, you do.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No.”

“You literally gave that stray cat your milk carton last week, Sukuna.”

He groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “You’re still on about that?”

“Because it was cute, wasn’t it?” you teased, grinning. “You wanted to take it home with you and nurse it back to health!”

“I will throw you off this rooftop.”

“No, you won’t.”

“Try me.”

And maybe it was the way you were always ready to challenge him, the way you never backed down. Maybe it was the way you could see through him like no one else ever had. Either way, Ryomen Sukuna was doomed.

He was already losing the battle.

Because as much as he’d never admit it, he liked that you stayed.

He liked that you were there with him.

It wasn’t often that Ryomen Sukuna hesitated, that in itself was a fact to everyone you dare ask. But in the moment after that as he watched you continue to scribble on your notepad, he found himself struggling even more. He couldn’t help it.

He wasn’t the type to second-guess himself, to stall, or to act shy about something he wanted. When he set his sights on something, he took it, it was as simple as that. But now, as he sat beside you as he watched you, hands shoved in his pockets, lips pressed together in an almost pout, he looked… hesitant. Which was weird.

You tilted your head. “What’s up with you, Sukuna? You were just fine earlier. I mean you were alright with the banter. Now you’re stunned to silence again.”

Sukuna clicked his tongue, eyes flickering away. “It’s nothing.”

“Liar.” You snickered, not looking up at him. “You don’t lose your words with it being nothing.”

His furrowed brows twitched, and you could see the gears turning in his head. He wanted to say something. You just had to be patient. “…I’m gonna try out for the volleyball team.”

Your eyes widened. “Wait, really?”

He gave a slow nod, avoiding your gaze. “Yeah. I just….thought I need a new leaf.”

“Well, that’s good on you, Sukuna! Less fights, more rights—but on court!”

“Hey, I’m left handed!”

You giggled. “Just kidding.”

And now that you really looked at him, you noticed the way his fingers fidgeted slightly at his sides, how his usual sharp expression was replaced by something almost… uncertain. You could see the red echo all over his face and neck and even his ears.

That was when it hit you.

He wanted to ask you to come.

He wanted you there.

You opened your mouth, but before he could get a single word out, you grinned and butted in. “I’ll be there.”

Sukuna blinked. “Huh?”

“You were gonna ask me to come, right?” You nudged him playfully. “So, yeah. I’ll be there. Front row seat.”

For a moment, he just stared at you, lips parting slightly like he was searching for some kind of response. Then, he scowled, clicking his tongue. “Annoying.”

You laughed. “You love it.”

“Debatable.” But despite his grumbling, you swore you saw the corners of his lips twitch into the smallest smile.

And just like that, Ryomen Sukuna, someone who never asked for anyone’s approval had finally found something he wanted even more than volleyball. He wanted you to see him win. He wanted to see you there when he got his uniform and his place on the team.

“You’re really cute right now, do you know that?”

“Huh? Who are you callin’ cute?”

“Sukuna, give me back my notepad, you tall jerk!”

“Reach for it, shorty!”

══════════════════

epilogue

It started as a normal post-practice dinner, like it always was. It was normal, meaning loud and chaotic thanks to Gojo and Geto and how they roped Yuuji into their antics. The seven of you were packed into your usual corner booth, plates stacked high, drinks half-empty, and conversation buzzing with easy banter.

Then Itadori Yuuji—bless his pure, curious heart—asked the question that sealed Sukuna’s fate. “So… how did you guys even meet?”

You paused, chopsticks mid-air. “Oh, uh…. What do you wanna know?”

The bright-eyed junior smiled at you. “As much as you wanna say, senpai!”

Captain Ryomen Sukuna, who had just taken a bite of pork cutlet, froze. He slowly chewed, scarlet eyes darting toward you like he was calculating whether he should trust you with the answer. Big mistake.

Gojo immediately leaned in. “Oh-ho-ho, now this I wanna hear.”

Geto grinned, leaning back at the white haired vice-captain. “Yeah, you guys never really told us the full story.”

Megumi groaned. “And you really don’t need to.”

Nanami merely sighed, but there was a tiny flicker of interest in his otherwise indifferent expression. You turned to your boyfriend, Ryomen Sukuna with the smuggest look ever. He turned to you, panicked and horrified.

You smirked. “Wanna tell them, my love?”

His eyes twitched. “I hate when you say it like that, so damn mischievous.”

Gojo gasped, delighted. “Wait. You call senpai babe, but she can’t call you babe? Oh my god. This is so good.”

Sukuna shot him a deadly glare. “Do you want me to stab you with my chopsticks? And again, we talked about this. I like being called my love by my girl or nothing.”

"Aw, I'm your girl?"

"I'm going to sleep on the couch later with your stuffed bunny."

"My love, that's just cruel!" You pouted.

His eyes falters as he lowers his head and blushes. "Goddamn it."

Megumi snickers, leaning back. "Are we just gonna skip over the captain liking bunny plushies?"

Sukuna looks up. "I'm going to throttle you."

Gojo shrugged. “Wouldn’t be the first time someone tried.”

Geto snorted, turning to you. “Anyway, go on and spill, senpai!”

You grinned at him, leaning into the table. “We met in middle school. Sukuna was a menace.”

Sukuna scoffed. “Was?”

“Fine, is.”

Megumi muttered, “Glad we’re acknowledging it, senpai.”

Ignoring them, you continued, “The first time I saw him, he was absolutely wrecking some guy in a fight.”

Yuuji choked on his drink. “HUH???”

Megumi sighed. “Of course senpai was a delinquent.”

“But, but—” You raised a finger. “The guy was really horrible. Sukuna saw that he was looking under another junior’s girl’s skirt and it was making the girl feel horrible, so he jumped in and he started a fight.”

Gojo cackled. “Oh my god, senpai! You saw him commit to beating a guy in a fight and thought, ‘wow, what a prince.’”

Sukuna groaned, dropping his forehead onto the table. “I knew this was a bad idea.”

You patted his back, grinning. “He didn’t get into fights without reason, don’t worry! Anyway, I stuck around. And before he knew it, he couldn’t get rid of me.”

Sukuna grumbled, “Yeah, you were annoying.”

“Were?”

He sighed, already regretting his entire existence. “Fine. Are.”

Yuuji grinned. “So basically… you made the first move?”

Sukuna sat up, looking deeply offended. “No.”

Nanami, who had been quietly sipping his tea, suddenly added, “You were the one who asked senpai to come to your volleyball tryouts.”

Sukuna turned to him, betrayed. “I thought you didn’t get involved in stupid conversations, Nanami.”

“I don’t.” Nanami set his cup down calmly. “But this is funny.”

Gojo howled. “Oh, this is fantastic. Loverboy Ryomem Sukuna actually invited senpai first! Was, he blushing, senpai?”

You grinned. “Hm, he was!”

Geto smirked. “You know what that means, right? That means you made the first move, cap!”

“I DID NOT.”

“You definitely did, captain.” Megumi muttered.

You grinned, resting your chin on your palm. “Face it, my love. Like it or not, you love me with everything you’ve got.”

Sukuna grumbled, looking away, ears red. “Tch. Tolerate is a better word.”

But the way he let you lean against him, the way his fingers brushed against yours under the table?

Yeah, you grinned.

You knew the truth.

And that’s why Sukuna was suffering.

Physically, emotionally, and spiritually.

All because you couldn’t keep your mouth shut.

And he loved you for it, more than anything.

Gojo and Geto were thriving off his pain, Megumi looked like he wanted to die just by being associated with this conversation, and Nanami, the one person who usually had self-control, had actually joined in on roasting him.

Worst of all? You were sitting there, all smug and grinning, as if you weren’t the reason his dignity was being publicly executed.

"Okay, okay." Yuuji laughed, leaning forward eagerly. "So when did you two actually start dating? Who said I love you first?"

Sukuna groaned, rubbing his temples. "Why are we still talking about this?"

"Because it's hilarious, captain!" Gojo said, sipping his drink with a shit-eating grin.

"You guys are acting like this is some historical event!" Sukuna muttered.

"You being in a relationship is basically a historical event, you know that, right?" Megumi deadpanned.

Nanami somewhat agreed. “It’s hard to know how to keep you settled, captain.”

“That’s going to earn you both more burpees!”

You giggled, reaching over to flick Sukuna’s ear. “Come on, tell them how you said it first.”

Sukuna scowled at you. “I didn’t say it first.”

"You so did, huh?" Geto smirked, drumming his fingers on the table.

Sukuna shot him a murderous glare. "No, I didn't."

"You absolutely did." you chirped, grinning.

Gojo perked up like he lived for this drama. "Wait, wait, wait—so the captain said I love you first?! Oh, this is damn gold."

Nanami took a sip of his drink, looking mildly interested. "How did this happen?"

Sukuna crossed his arms, looking like he wanted to crawl out of his own skin. "It was not a confession. It was—"

"A moment of weakness?" Megumi guessed dryly.

"A lapse in judgment?" Geto suggested.

"A divine miracle?" Gojo threw in, wiggling his eyebrows.

Sukuna clicked his tongue, looking at you like you were his final lifeline. He then looked at the other boys. “Multiple running laps on Monday.”

You, of course, were having too much fun. "Oh, it was so cute."

Sukuna groaned. "I swear to god—"

"Okay, okay!" You laughed, waving your hand. "I'll tell the story."

Sukuna immediately collapsed onto the table in defeat. “Jesus Christ—”

"So, one night after one of his games, Sukuna was exhausted—”

"As one is after carrying an entire team, mind you." Sukuna muttered.

You ignored him. "And he was so tired, he wasn’t really thinking before he spoke."

Gojo gasped dramatically. "The captain? Not thinking before he speaks? Shocking!"

You continued, undeterred. "So we were just sitting there, and I handed him a drink, and he just sighs and goes, ‘Man, I love you.’"

An echo of sudden silence.

Then the entire table erupted into chaos.

"NO. WAY." Yuuji nearly choked on his drink.

"AND IT WAS CASUAL? JUST LIKE THAT?" Gojo cackled.

"Disgusting." Megumi muttered, sipping his drink like he wasn’t deeply entertained.

Geto wiped a fake tear from his eye. "Damn. Our boy is whipped."

Sukuna, face fully buried in his hands, groaned. "I was tired!"

Nanami, who was enjoying himself far too much, nodded. "Ah. So it was an accidental confession."

You giggled, patting Sukuna’s back. "And then when I stared at him, all shocked, he tried to walk it back and was like, ‘Wait, no, I didn’t mean—’"

Sukuna slammed his forehead on the table. "I HATE YOU."

"Love you too, my love." you cooed sweetly, kissing his cheek.

Gojo nearly fell out of his chair laughing. "OH MY GOD, CAPTAIN! YOU’RE A LOSER."

Yuuji wiped tears from his eyes. "Man, I love this."

Megumi sighed. "This has been the worst meal of my life."

"Best meal of my life." Geto grinned.

Nanami sighed. "This shit makes me want a girlfriend."

Sukuna looked up, glaring at everyone. "I regret ever meeting you all."

"You love us." Gojo said, waving him off.

"No. I love her. Even if she's a fucking menace." Sukuna jabbed a finger at you. "I tolerate the rest of you."

You beamed, leaning into his side. "See? That was an intentional confession."

Sukuna groaned as the table roared with laughter again. “Why are we going through life like this?”

You smiled at him, leaning in and kissing his cheek. "I love you!"

Okay, maybe tonight was worth it.

[eclipixels]

can you please write about first kiss with blue lock boys (reo(before blue lock), yukimiya and whoever you want)

First Kiss

Character: Yoichi Isagi, Meguru Bachira, Hyoma Chigiri, Rin Itoshi, Seishiro Nagi, Reo Mikage, Rensuke Kunigami, Kenyu Yukimiya, Sae Itoshi, Ryusei Shidou, Michael Kaiser

Content: first kiss with blue lock boys

A/N: As much as I hate Kaiser.. I think the one I wrote for him is my fav... took a little inspiration from Katniss and Peeta

Yoichi Isagi

      The school festival was in full swing, the air filled with laughter, chatter, and the clinking sounds of games being played. The colorful booths and stalls lined the courtyard, offering a mix of delicious food, fun activities, and a sense of excitement that seemed to electrify the entire student body. You’d always enjoyed these kinds of events, but today, it felt different. Your heart raced in a way you couldn’t quite place as you glanced around, looking for that one familiar face.

      You and Isagi went together, you were best friends, always going everywhere together. So then, why did this feel different? His dark blue hair was messy, his eyes were bright with enthusiasm, and his smile was contagious. He was thoughtful, kind, and a little bit awkward in that endearing way that made him seem all the more real.

      Your feet moved almost instinctively, bringing you closer to where he stood, and before you knew it, you were standing much much closer beside him, watching the chaos of the festival unfold. He turned his head, his face colored in a faint pinkish hue.

      The rest of your time was fun, you played a few games, got food, and now you were sitting on the grass, watching the fireworks in the evening sky.

      You both laughed, and for a moment, everything else faded away. The noise of the festival, the crowded space, it all felt distant as the two of you locked eyes, the world seeming to shrink down to just the two of you in that one moment.

      “I’m glad you’re here,” Isagi said, his voice softer now, though still filled with that warmth that made your heart flutter. “It’s fun, right?”

      You nodded, but you could feel your nerves creeping up. The excitement of the festival, the buzz of everything happening around you, and the simple fact that isagi was sitting so close—it made your heart beat faster.

      You didn’t have time to think about it, because in the next instant, your hands brushed. It was an accident at first, just the faintest touch as you both reached for a cup of punch at the same time. But the moment your fingers made contact, something shifted. The touch was brief, but there was a spark, a tiny jolt that shot through you like electricity.

      Your breath caught, and you looked up at him, startled by the intensity in his gaze. His eyes had gone from playful to something… softer, something deeper. He was looking at you like he saw something more than just a classmate, something more than just a friend.

      There was a beat of silence. Then another. Neither of you moved. Neither of you spoke.

      Your heart raced. Why was this so different? Why did it feel like the air between you two was charged with something you couldn’t explain? Isagi’s gaze was fixed on you, unwavering, as if he was reading every unspoken word in your eyes.

      Without a word, Isagi leaned in. It wasn’t sudden or forceful, just slow, like he was testing the waters, unsure of where this moment might go. But you didn’t pull away. You couldn’t. You stayed still, your breath caught in your throat as you stared at him, waiting.

      And then, it happened. His lips brushed against yours. A soft, tentative press, a touch that was almost shy, like neither of you quite knew what to do next.

      It was brief. Barely a second. But it felt like time had stretched out, like the entire world had paused just for you two. Isagi pulled away, his eyes wide, as if he were waiting for your reaction. His face flushed a deep red, and for the first time, you saw him look truly vulnerable—like he wasn’t sure if he had done something wrong.

      “Y/N, I… I’m sorry. I don’t know why I did that. I just—” His words were stumbling, unsure, but you could see the sincerity in his eyes.

      You shook your head, a soft smile tugging at your lips. You reached up and gently touched his arm, calming him down. “Yoichi, don’t apologize. It was… it was nice.”

Meguru Bachira

      The sun was setting, casting an orange glow across the soccer field as you watched Bachira Meguru chase the ball with his usual chaotic energy. He was laughing, loud, unrestrained, and utterly carefree, and it was contagious. The way he moved, the way he lived in the moment, reminded you of a force of nature. He was always so full of life, like he could take on the world with that infectious grin of his.

      You, on the other hand, had always been a little more reserved. But when Bachira was around, it was hard not to get caught up in his whirlwind of excitement. And today, it was no different.

      You stood on the sidelines, chatting with a few friends, when your gaze wandered back to Bachira. He was running across the field, zigzagging between his teammates with wild, impossible twists of his body. He was all over the place, but somehow, always in control. The ball was at his feet one second, then flying into the air the next. It was almost like he was playing a different game than everyone else.

      As you watched him, your attention was drawn to the ball, soaring through the air toward you. It was coming in fast, and before you could react, it landed just a little too close to your feet. You instinctively reached for it, but the second you did, your foot collided with the ball, sending it spinning in the direction of Bachira.

      But of course, with Bachira, nothing was ever simple. In his rush to grab the ball, he tripped. His feet tangled up in the grass, and in a perfect, chaotic mess, he fell toward you. You barely had time to react before he collided with you, and the two of you tumbled to the ground in a heap of laughter and limbs.

      For a moment, there was nothing but a burst of giggles and the soft rustle of the grass beneath you. But then, in that moment of pure chaos, your lips met.

      It wasn’t planned. It wasn’t calculated. It was messy, awkward even, but there it was, a sudden kiss, as unexpected as the collision itself. Bachira’s eyes were wide at first, blinking in surprise, but then, just as quickly, his laugh bubbled up again. He pulled back just enough to look at you, his face flushed with excitement.

      “Well, that wasn’t how I planned this to go,” he chuckled, his voice light and full of energy.

Hyoma Chigiri

      The sterile scent of the hospital filled your nose as you walked down the long, white hallway. It was almost too quiet, too still, but you didn’t mind. Your focus was on one thing, and one thing only.

      The sound of your footsteps echoed as you made your way to his room, your thoughts running in circles. You had heard about his injury—his ligament tear—and you couldn’t believe how careless he’d been. Overworking himself, pushing his body too hard, as always. He was stubborn, and you were tired of it.

      The door to his room came into view, and your hand tightened around the handle. You weren’t sure if you were more worried or more frustrated, but you knew you needed to see him. Needed to get your thoughts out before they consumed you.

      You pushed the door open, and there he was, sitting up in bed, his leg propped up with a cast. His bright pink hair looked a little messier than usual, and his eyes flickered toward you the moment you entered. His lips twitched into a faint smile, but there was something tired in his gaze, like he didn’t quite have the energy to smile the way he usually did.

      "Hey," you said, trying to keep your voice level, though the concern was evident in your tone. "You’ve got to stop doing this to yourself."

      Chigiri didn’t respond immediately, his eyes lingering on you as you crossed the room and took a seat beside his bed. You couldn’t help but scold him, your voice rising with frustration.

      "You know you need to be careful! You can't just keep pushing your body like this. You’ve got to stop being so reckless. This isn’t just about your passion for soccer, you know? You could’ve ruined everything for yourself!"

      His eyes remained fixed on you, but he stayed silent, his lips pressed into a thin line. He had heard it all before. He knew what you were going to say, but for some reason, he didn’t want to interrupt. He admired the way you cared, the way you spoke from a place of concern. It made him feel… something. Something he couldn’t quite put into words.

      You didn’t notice at first, but Chigiri’s gaze had softened. The anger in your voice was passionate, but it was also a little heartbreaking. You wanted him to take care of himself. You wanted him to slow down, to listen.

      "I don’t need a lecture, Y/N," he finally spoke, his voice low. His eyes were intense, but there was something else there, something that made your heart skip a beat

      You huffed, crossing your arms over your chest. "Then why do you keep doing it?" You were about to keep going, but before you could continue, Chigiri’s hand shot out, lightly gripping your wrist. The movement was so sudden, so unexpected, that you froze.

      Before you could even process what had just happened, his lips were on yours.

      The kiss wasn’t forceful. It wasn’t urgent. It was gentle, tender, like he was trying to tell you something with the quiet press of his lips. Your heart raced in shock, the suddenness of it leaving you speechless. You didn’t pull away. Neither of you said anything. There was no need for words.

      When he finally pulled back, your chest was still heavy with the lingering feeling of the kiss. He didn’t look at you at first. Instead, his eyes were cast down, a soft pink hue coloring his cheeks. There was a moment of silence, the kind that hung between you two, as you both processed what had just happened.

      He was still holding your wrist, but his fingers relaxed, gently brushing against your skin. His eyes met yours. You had been the only girl in his heart ever since he met you, and now you had been the first on his lips too.

      "That’s the only way to get you to stop yelling at me, huh?" he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

      You blinked at him, your breath still shaky. There was no anger in his voice now, no frustration. Just the quiet acknowledgment of the moment that had passed between you.

      You didn’t know what to say. Maybe you should have been mad. Maybe you should have said something about how confusing all of this was. But instead, you just sat there, your heart still racing, knowing that somehow, Chigiri had found a way to quiet you in the most unexpected way possible.

Rin Itoshi

      Rin Itoshi had always been focused. Soccer was his life, his obsession. The only thing that mattered was winning, being the best, and proving everyone who doubted him wrong. He didn't have time for distractions, and certainly not for anything like emotions. Love was something he pushed aside, tucked deep in the corners of his mind where he could forget about it. At least, that’s what he told himself.

      It was another one of those days, the kind where he was training hard, pushing his body to its limits, and you had found yourself there, watching him. You weren’t there to praise him, though. You weren’t one of his fans or someone who adored his every move. No, you were there to challenge him, to push him in a way no one else dared to. Rin didn’t like it. You were the only one who had the audacity to stand up to him, to question his methods, to challenge his idea of what it meant to be the best.

      The argument had started over something small. A remark, a disagreement about his training regimen, and then it spiraled. Words were thrown back and forth, sharp and cutting, both of you refusing to back down. His jaw was clenched, his eyes cold as always, but there was a flicker of something else in them, something he didn’t fully understand yet.

      “You think you know better than me?” Rin growled, his voice laced with irritation.

      “I’m not challenging you because I think I’m better,” you shot back, your voice steady. “I’m challenging you because you think winning is the only thing that matters. But you’re missing everything else. You’re just too focused on the result to see the bigger picture.”

      His eyes narrowed at you, his lips curling into that familiar smirk. “You don’t understand anything.”

      “No,” you replied, stepping closer to him, not backing down an inch. “Maybe you don’t understand anything. Winning isn’t everything. It’s about why you play, who you play for.”

      For a moment, there was silence between you. Rin stood there, staring at you, his chest rising and falling with each breath. Your words rang familiar to what his brother had told him. He was quiet, contemplating your words, but his pride was too big, too strong to admit that maybe, just maybe, you had a point.

      Then, before either of you could say another word, something changed. He moved closer, faster than you expected, and in a split second, his lips were on yours.

      It wasn’t gentle. It wasn’t slow. It was sharp, intense, and almost angry, like he was trying to prove something with that kiss, like he was trying to shut you up. You didn’t even have time to fully process what was happening before it was over, just a brief moment where everything else stopped, and there was only the sting of the kiss.

      When Rin pulled away, he didn’t look at you immediately. Instead, he looked off to the side, his expression unreadable, as if nothing had just happened. You stood there, completely taken aback, your heart racing in your chest, unsure of what to think. It wasn’t something you expected, not from him.

      “That’ll shut you up, won’t it?” he muttered, his voice softer than usual, though there was still a hint of frustration in it.

      You didn’t know how to respond. Your mind was too muddled, too filled with everything that had just transpired. The kiss had been so sudden, so unexpected. You thought it was nothing, just a way for him to get you to stop talking, to end the argument in the only way he knew how.

      As he disappeared into the distance, you couldn’t help but wonder if he felt the same tug at his heart. But for now, you were left with a single truth, that kiss, as abrupt and sharp as it was, had changed everything.

Seishiro Nagi

      The sun was setting, casting a golden light through the window, but inside the room, everything felt still, almost suspended in time. Nagi Seishiro was fast asleep on the couch, his tousled hair sprawled across the pillow. His chest rose and fell steadily with each breath, the peacefulness of his expression betraying his usual aloof demeanor. He looked almost too serene, too detached from the world, like he didn’t have a care to worry about. And in that moment, you couldn't help but stare at him.

      You had developed a massive crush on him, though you weren’t sure how or when it happened. Nagi had this air about him, this effortless coolness that drew people in, and even though he always seemed distant, you found yourself captivated by him. Maybe it was the way he moved, like everything he did came so naturally to him, or the way he talked about soccer as if it was the only thing that mattered in the world. It wasn’t that you didn’t have your own dreams or goals, but there was something about Nagi that made you want to be near him, to understand him.

      You had found yourself sitting on the edge of the couch, just watching him sleep. You knew it was probably a little creepy, but there was something about the way he looked in that moment that made your heart race. You couldn’t help but get lost in the quietness, in the rhythm of his breathing. His scent filled your lungs. It was intoxicating in a way you couldn’t quite explain.

      You leaned in a little closer, your heart thudding in your chest, suddenly feeling like you were caught in a dream. Your face was only inches from his, and you couldn’t help but notice how soft his features were, how inviting his lips looked. The temptation was there, strong, but you immediately pulled back, embarrassed by the thought.

      But just as you were about to pull away completely, Nagi’s eyes fluttered open, a soft groan escaping him. He blinked a few times, his usual sleepy expression settling over his face. His gaze met yours, and for a moment, everything seemed to freeze. You felt your cheeks burn as you froze, your thoughts scattered. He was awake, and you had been caught staring.

      “Uh… sorry,” you stammered, trying to pull yourself back, but before you could retreat, Nagi did something that completely caught you off guard.

      He moved, slow but deliberate. You barely had time to react, still frozen in place, before his lips met yours.

      It was lazy, slow, almost surreal, like the world outside the two of you had ceased to exist. His lips were soft against yours, and for a second, it felt like time was stretching out, like you were drifting in a space between reality and a dream. His kiss wasn’t rushed. It wasn’t filled with urgency. It was as if he was savoring the moment, just letting everything happen at its own pace. It wasn’t like what you’d imagined—it wasn’t dramatic or intense—but there was something about it that felt more real than anything you had ever experienced.

      When he pulled away, there was a quiet moment of stillness between you. Nagi looked at you with a relaxed expression, the usual aloofness in his eyes replaced with something softer, something you couldn’t quite place.

      “…That was weird,” he muttered, as if he was still half-dazed from the nap.

      You felt the heat rise in your cheeks, your breath caught in your throat. You couldn’t find the words, too embarrassed to even finish the sentence.

      Nagi shrugged, his eyes flicking away briefly before meeting yours again. You blinked, trying to process what he had just said. Did he like it too?

      “Strawberries,” he added, licking his lips, sitting up slightly, his gaze moving to the window where the last rays of sunlight filtered through.

      Nagi never really thought about kissing. But he enjoyed the way your lips tasted. He was inclined to do it more.

      Reo Mikage

      Reo Mikage had always been a perfectionist, a planner, someone who controlled every aspect of his life. He wasn’t someone who believed in doing things without careful thought, and especially not something as spontaneous as love. He was always focused on his goals, his ambitions, and his future. Love, to him, was just another distraction, a temporary feeling that had no place in his world. But that all changed the day he found himself in a moment with you that he couldn’t quite explain.

      You were sitting next to him on the rooftop of his parent’s penthouse, the sun beginning to dip below the horizon. The air had a chill to it, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. You and Reo had been talking for a while, mostly small talk, casual, easy. His words were always so measured, always so precise, but with you, he seemed to drop his usual guarded demeanor, just a little. Maybe it was the way you listened to him, the way you made him feel like he didn’t have to perform, like he didn’t have to constantly prove himself.

      He had grown used to the polished image he’d crafted for himself, the one that everyone admired, the one that made him the ideal candidate for success. But there was something about you that made him want to open up, to stop pretending, if only for a little while.

      As the conversation drifted to a lull, Reo shifted next to you, his shoulder brushing yours. For a second, it felt like the world had stopped, like the moment was suspended in time, and the only thing that mattered was the two of you on this quiet bench, surrounded by the fading light.

      Your breath caught in your throat. You weren’t sure why you felt so nervous, why your heart started to race, but something about the way Reo was looking at you, with a softness in his eyes that you rarely saw, made it impossible to ignore. You could feel the weight of the tension between you two, like an unspoken question lingering in the air.

      Before you could even gather your thoughts, Reo turned slightly toward you, his gaze intense but not unfriendly. His usual confidence was still there, but there was something different this time.

      His lips parted slightly, and you thought he was about to say something. But instead, he did something that took you completely by surprise.

      He leaned in, just a little at first, as if waiting for you to pull away. But you didn’t. And with that small permission, his lips brushed against yours in a kiss that was soft and almost hesitant. It wasn’t the passionate, sweeping kiss you had imagined, no, it was slower, quieter, like he was testing the waters, like he was unsure but couldn’t help himself. The kiss was tender, as if he was savoring the moment, letting it linger for a little longer than he usually would.

      You felt your heart pounding in your chest, every nerve in your body alive in a way you hadn’t anticipated. It wasn’t like anything you’d experienced before, and yet, it felt so right. You could feel his hand lightly resting on the side of your arm, like he was holding onto the moment as much as you were. It wasn’t a kiss of grand gestures or promises, it was simple, raw, and real.

      When he finally pulled away, Reo didn’t say anything at first. He just looked at you, his expression unreadable for a moment. There was a flicker of something in his eyes, something that told you he hadn’t expected it either, but that didn’t mean it was unwelcome.

      “You make things… different,” he said quietly, his voice low and almost unsure. "I don’t really know how to explain it, but… you’re not like anyone else."

      You blinked, still a little dazed from the kiss, trying to process his words.

      Reo smiled faintly, and for the first time, it wasn’t the usual confident, almost cocky smile he wore so often. This one was different. It was gentle, genuine.

      M’sorry, I just… I just want to feel something real.” he said, his eyes finally softening, and for once, you could see a glimpse of the uncertainty that he usually kept hidden behind his perfect facade.

      You didn’t have an answer for that. But as you sat there next to him, the last of the sunlight fading into twilight, you didn’t need to say anything at all.

      Reo got nervous. Did you not like it? Were you upset? All these doubts were interrupted by another kiss from you.

      The kiss had been the start of something new, something neither of you could quite define yet, but it was real, and that was enough.

      For Reo, it was the first time he had allowed himself to be so unguarded, so open with someone. For you, it was the concept that even in Reo Mikage’s perfectly controlled world, there was space for something as imperfect and beautiful as love.

Rensuke Kunigami

      Kunigami stood a few feet away, hands on his hips, chest still rising and falling from exertion. “You really don’t know how to quit, huh?” he said, shaking his head with a grin.

      You stretched your arms above your head, letting out a satisfied sigh. “Neither do you.”

      His chuckle was deep and warm. “Guess that’s why we work so well together.”

      You met his gaze, something unspoken passing between you. Kunigami has always been someone you admire, not just for his skill but for his unwavering dedication. He carried himself with a kind of quiet confidence, never arrogant but never uncertain. Being around him always made you push yourself harder, made you want to match his fire.

      “You’re staring,” he pointed out, one brow raised.

      You scoffed, looking away. “No, I’m not.”

      “Yes, you are.”

      “Maybe I just like looking at sore losers,” you teased.

      Kunigami huffed a laugh, stepping closer. The distance between you shrank, and suddenly, the playful air between you shifted into something heavier. His eyes softened, searching yours as if he was considering something—something big.

      His voice was quieter when he spoke again. “Guess I gotta hold out on my end of the bet, huh?”

      “Yeah,” You murmured. You two had made a bet that whoever scored the most goals would have to do what the other said. You stepped closer, your eyes staring up into his eyes before whispering the fatal words that made his heart almost stop.

      You stood nervously, wondering if he’d actually do it. You prayed you hadn’t just messed up your friendship.

      Then, he leaned in.

      Kunigami kissed you like he played, fierce, controlled, but undeniably warm. His lips pressed against yours in a way that left no room for hesitation, yet it wasn’t rushed or overwhelming. It was steady, like he wanted to make sure you felt every second of it. His hands rested at your sides, firm but careful, like he wasn’t just holding you, he was grounding himself in you.

      You felt heat spread through your chest, your fingers instinctively curling into the fabric of his jersey. The kiss was deep but not desperate, strong but not forceful. It was Kunigami—honest, intense, and full of meaning.

      When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, his breath warm against your skin. “I hope that wasn’t too forward,” he said, his voice slightly rough, almost nervous.

      You smiled, your heart still racing. “I would’ve been mad if you waited any longer.”

      Kunigami chuckled, and for a moment, the only thing between you was the quiet hum of the night. Then, his arms wrapped around you fully, pulling you into his chest with a sigh.

      “I’m gonna kiss you like that a lot more,” he murmured against your hair.

Kenyu Yukimiya

      The late afternoon sun painted the sky in shades of gold and pink, casting a warm glow over the quiet garden where you and Yukimiya sat. The air smelled like summer, fresh grass, distant flowers, and the faintest hint of sunscreen lingering on his skin. It was one of those perfect days, the kind that felt like it would last forever.

      “You always get this faraway look in your eyes,” Yukimiya mused, tilting his head as he watched you. His voice was smooth, laced with amusement, but there was something softer beneath it.

      You blinked, caught off guard. “I do?”

      He smiled, the kind that usually made people melt, but this time it wasn’t playful or teasing. It was quieter, more thoughtful. “Yeah. Like you’re thinking about something important.”

      You hesitated before answering, but something about the warmth in his gaze made it easy to be honest. “I guess I’m just… enjoying this. Being here with you.”

      A breeze swept through the garden, ruffling his hair, and for the first time, you noticed how soft his expression had become. His usual confidence was still there, but there was something deeper, like he was searching for the right words.

      Then, instead of speaking, he leaned in.

      The kiss was soft, featherlight, like the gentle touch of a summer wind. Yukimiya wasn’t the type to rush things, and this was no different. He kissed you as if he was afraid to break the moment, as if he wanted to make sure you felt everything he couldn’t say. His lips were warm, unhurried, carrying a quiet sincerity that surprised even him.

      “I enjoy being here with you, too” He let out a small, breathy laugh, shaking his head.

      You smiled, still caught in the haze of the moment. “You always talk like you know everything, but you sound pretty lost right now.”

      He chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah, well. Guess you’re the first person to ever make me speechless.”

      You rolled your eyes, but your heart felt impossibly light. “That’s a first.”

      Yukimiya hummed, tilting his head. “I think I like firsts with you.”

Sae Itoshi

      Sae Itoshi didn’t believe in pointless things. Everything he did had a purpose, every move he made was deliberate. That’s why, when he kissed you, it wasn’t out of sentiment or impulse. It was to prove a point.

      You had challenged him, pushed back against his sharp words, never letting his cold exterior intimidate you. Most people tried to win his approval, to stay in his good graces. You? You argued, you questioned, and worst of all, you made him feel things he had no time for.

      So, when you stood in front of him, eyes locked in a silent battle, he acted. He leaned in, closing the distance with the same precision he applied to everything in his life. His lips met yours in a kiss that was meant to unnerve you, to throw you off balance. It was measured, controlled, just like him.

      But then, something shifted.

      The way you responded, just as unyielding, just as certain, sent something sharp through him, something unfamiliar. He had expected hesitation, surprise. Instead, you kissed him back, matching his intensity without faltering. His fingers twitched at his sides, resisting the urge to reach for you, to pull you closer.

      This wasn’t supposed to happen. He felt the overwhelming urge to fall to his knees for you. Erm, what the hell?

      “That was calculated,” you murmured, lips curling into the faintest smirk. “Wasn’t it?”

      Sae’s jaw tightened. “Obviously.”

      You tilted your head, watching him like you saw right through him. “Then why do you look like you just lost a game you didn’t know you were playing?”

      He scoffed, turning away, irritation flickering in his chest. “You’re annoying.”

      But the worst part? You were right. Because no matter how much he wanted to treat it like just another move on the board, that kiss had left an imprint he couldn’t ignore. And for the first time, Sae Itoshi realized there were some things, even within himself, that he couldn’t control.

Ryusei Shidou

      Being around Shidou was like standing in the middle of a storm, unpredictable, exhilarating, and completely overwhelming. He did everything with reckless abandon, throwing himself into life the same way he played soccer, with no hesitation, no second-guessing.

      So, it wasn’t a surprise that his first kiss happened in the middle of absolute chaos.

      Shidou thrived on competition, on the thrill of pushing boundaries, and you, somehow, had become his favorite challenge. You never backed down, never gave him the reaction he expected. And that only made him want to push further.

      Before you could fire back another remark, he grabbed your wrist, tugging you forward. His lips crashed against yours with the same reckless intensity he brought to everything else in his life, wild, unfiltered, all-consuming. He didn’t ease into it, and didn't wait for permission.

      And the worst part? You kissed him back just as fiercely.

      It was all heat, all fire, a clashing of wills with no room for second thoughts. The world blurred around you, but neither of you cared. When he finally pulled away, he was breathless, but grinning, satisfied.

      “Damn,” he muttered, running his tongue over his bottom lip like he was already thinking about doing it again. He had always wanted to kiss someone, but it had to be the right person. He didn’t know why he felt that way, or why he just knew it had to be with you. “That was better than I expected.”

      You scoffed, trying to ignore the way your pulse was still racing. “Cocky as ever.”

      He tilted his head, smirking. “You love it.”

      “Prove it.”

      Maybe you did. Maybe kissing Ryusei Shidou was just like everything else about him, thrilling, dangerous, impossible to forget. And maybe, just maybe, you were just as reckless as he was.

Michael Kaiser

      The rain came down in relentless sheets, soaking the streets and turning the sky into a dull gray haze. You were closing up the bakery, the comforting scent of fresh bread lingering in the air, when you saw him, Michael Kaiser, standing just outside in the downpour.

      He was a local kid you started some sort of a friendship with. You didn’t exactly know much about him, but you knew that he came from a troubled home and did whatever he could to survive.

      He looked miserable, dripping wet with his arms crossed, as if defying the cold. But his pride wouldn’t let him move, wouldn’t let him come inside even though you knew he wanted to.

      “You’re going to get sick,” you called out, stepping into the doorway.

      Kaiser scoffed, blue eyes flicking to you. “Not my problem.”

      You sighed, already used to his sharp tongue. Without another word, you grabbed his wrist and pulled him in, ignoring his protests. The warmth of the bakery wrapped around him instantly, chasing away the damp chill of the storm.

      “You’re soaked,” you muttered, shaking your head. “Wait here. My mom will find you some clothes.”

      He didn’t answer, just watched as you disappeared into the back. The flickering light above him buzzed softly, the only sound apart from the steady rain outside. His gaze drifted to the counter, where a fresh loaf of bread sat cooling.

      You had always given him food, never asking for anything in return, never making him feel like a beggar. It annoyed him at first. He hated owing people, hated feeling like someone else had the upper hand. But you never looked at him with pity. Just kindness.

      By the time you returned, he was staring at the floor, hands clenched into fists.

      “Here,” you said, handing him a towel. He took it wordlessly, running it over his hair with slow, deliberate movements.

      For once, he had nothing to say. No sarcastic remarks, no sharp-edged response. Just a strange, heavy silence. His eyes were on you, watching everything you did. Why did you have to be so nice and pretty?

      Then, before he could stop himself, he reached for you.

      His lips met yours in a quick, almost desperate kiss. It was clumsy, unpracticed, nothing like the confident, calculating Kaiser he would grow into. But in that moment, he wasn’t thinking. He just knew that there was something inside him that tightened whenever he looked at you, something that made him want to pull you closer even when he swore he didn’t need anyone.

      When he pulled away, his breath was uneven. Your wide eyes searched his, confusion flickering across your face.

      “Michael—”

      “I don’t owe you anything,” he said quickly, almost defensive. His grip on the towel tightened. “Got it?”

      You stared at him for a moment before sighing. “You’re such an idiot.”

      And then you handed him a warm roll of bread, just like you always did. Like nothing had changed.

      But something had.

      Because long after the rain stopped, long after he left that night, Michael Kaiser knew one thing for certain, he didn’t just want to repay you. He wanted you. Oh, he wanted you bad.

[r1nstaaa]

Moving fast until it breaks [L.MH] [Pt.II]

warnings: angst again ofc :( here's a playlist for this entire series!! prev part

masterlist

The breeze had turned cooler, not that either of you had noticed. It had been quite a long day, and though it was tiring, it wasn’t the bad kind. No, not even close. How could it be bad when it was spent with him? You both were seated on a sidewalk down the road from your house, the time already indicating the start of a new day. But you were still stuck in yesterday, mind still reeling from all the fun you guys had at the amusement park just a few hours ago.

You had failed to notice the chill in the air with the way Minho’s fingers lingered against yours— close, but not quite holding on.

The laughter had died down now, replaced with an almost sacred tranquility found, or rather created, only in his presence.

“Hey.” his voice was low, almost unsure. Minho was never unsure.

You dared to look him in the eyes, and suddenly the remnants of the warmth you had left felt like they were slipping away.

“There’s something i have to tell you.” The way he said it sent a shiver down your spine, because deep down, you knew.

You knew whatever he was gonna say would break you apart, you knew it would tear your heart up into shreds and leave you aching in a way you’ve never been left before. But you stayed silent, instead letting him speak.

“I’m leaving.” The words sat in the air, heavy and unsettling. It made you sick to your stomach. All the love you had stored in your heart threatened to spill out right from your throat. “Leaving?” You asked, voice betraying the inner turmoil you were facing.

He inhaled deeply, as if trying to steady himself. As if he didn’t trust himself enough to keep repeating this action the longer he looked at your face. “Yeah, I got in. To the company, i mean. Training starts next week.”

For a second, all you could hear was the sound of rustling leaves and the faint thumping of your own heart. The silence was deafening. You could hear your own heart breaking if it got any quieter.

Minho had always dreamed of this. You knew that. You’d been on the receiving end of his rants about wanting to become an idol, you’d been there during almost, if not all of his dance practices, you heard the way he hummed songs to himself, hoping one day he could pour his heart out in the same way in front of thousands of people.

This was his dream. 

So why did it feel like a nightmare?

“That’s- that’s amazing, Min.” You choked out, forcing a smile he saw right through.

He always did.

“There’s more.” he continued. “The company, they have rules. For trainees. No distractions, no-“ his voice faltered. He didn’t have to finish the sentence for you to know. He couldn’t get himself to, either.

No contact.

No you.

“Oh.” That was all you could say. What else was there, anyways?

It was ridiculous, really. You’d been warned before. He’d made it clear. A relationship would just end in doom, you knew it. Then why did you always show up at his place anytime his ‘cats missed you’? Why was he always there for you when he ‘just felt like you needed company’? You didn’t stop yourself. Nor did he. 

No one else was to blame but you. 

He let out a breathy, humourless laugh. “Yeah. Oh.”

A lump formed in your throat, so painful it almost escaped in a choked sob. You wanted to say something— anything. Tell him it wasn’t fair, that you didn’t care, that you’d wait, that you could be something— anything— as long as he didn’t disappear. You wanted to scream, cry, punch, yell— you wanted to do something, but you knew better. He’d already started bottling up moments, treating them as souvenirs. Something to look back at, not forward to.

So instead of trying to convince him, like every fibre of your being was screaming at you to, you just smiled. It wobbled a bit at the edges, but you held it anyways. “You’re going to be amazing, Min.” His jaw clenched. His fingers twitched. But he didn’t reach out for you.

“Yeah. I hope so.”

Neither of you said anything after that. You didn’t trust your voice, he didn’t trust himself.

And when you got up off that sidewalk for the last time while he didn’t even dare to move an inch, you didn’t look back. This was the only time you’d be leaving him.

And looking back would make it impossible. 

[sugarpasteltmnt]

"Instigating a chase was probably not the best way to spend time with Mikey, but Leo was too happy to care. Had it not been for the Krang in him driving him to run from danger, Leo would have happily stopped. Let Mikey beat the absolute shit out of him. Just to spend time with him." This is one of my fav chapters from TNV, and this line gave me a question that is: what if Leo hadn't resisted? Maybe it would be out of character for him in this AU, but it won't leave my mind! What would happen? Would Mickey stop hitting him? Would Leo say something? What kind of scenarios would that lead to???

I love ur work btw. pls be okay (っ◔◡◔)っ ❤

(Chapter 6: Marigolds spoilers ahoy!)

omg what a fun question!

hmmm that's tough. If Leo had caved and let himself be Mikey's punching bag, I can def see Mikey just wailing on him. Getting a few good hits in before he starts to realize that this creepy yokai wasn't putting up a fight. Though, since he was so fired up, he'd take Void's complacency as a challenge. That he was so 'weak' Void wasn't feeling his attacks.

I can see Mikey stopping long enough to hoist the limp yokai out of a crater Mikey pelted him into, shouting at his face. Asking what was the matter with him. Why wouldn't he fight back. Was Mikey not good enough for him to try? Was that what it was???

"Heh. Nah..." Leo would muse, "You just looked like you needed to blow off some steam." Some kind of comment that would make Mikey pause, taken aback by his honest tone. But given Leo's mental state, he would for sure keep poking the bear. Wanting to be near Mikey. Wanting to feel his Ninpo. Quite honestly i feel like his arm would get chopped off in any scenario from his dance with danger.

But at the end of the day, I think that the results would be the same. After all, even though Leo missed his brothers so much, he couldn't let himself be revealed. He'd ditch Mikey however he could, body aching from both sadness and pain.

[bitchinbarzal]

Babysitting | Just Fine au

Kaia doesn’t know why it bothers her.

Clayton is single. He can go out with whoever he wants.

It’s not like she’s never thought about it before—the idea of him dating, bringing someone else into his life, into Elodie’s life. But it was always theoretical, some distant concept she never actually had to deal with.

Until tonight.

Until Clayton casually mentioned he had plans.

Until he walked out of his bedroom in a nice button-down and jeans that fit just right, looking like he belonged on a damn magazine cover instead of in her living room.

And then he said, “Don’t wait up, Kaia.”

She wanted to throw a pillow at him.

Instead, she just forced a smile and said, “Have fun,” even though it tasted bitter on her tongue.

That was two hours ago.

Now, she’s sitting on his couch, watching some mindless show, pretending she’s not waiting to hear the front door open.

Elodie is asleep, curled up in her bed after demanding three bedtime stories, completely unaware that her dad is out with someone who isn’t Kaia.

Kaia exhales, rubbing a hand over her face. Get a grip.

She has no claim on him. They’re just friends. She’s not in love with him.

The worst part is that she doesn’t even know who he’s out with. He hadn’t said. Just that he had plans.

And now she’s sitting here, staring blankly at the TV, wondering if he’s laughing at someone else’s jokes. If he’s smiling at some other woman the way he smiles at her.

If he’s thinking about her at all.

Kaia tells herself she’s not waiting for Clayton to come home.

She’s just up late. Watching a movie. Hanging out.

That’s all.

But when the front door opens and he steps inside—smirking, looking way too pleased with himself—her stomach twists.

She doesn’t want to know how his date went.

But she asks anyway.

“So,” she says, keeping her eyes on the TV. “How was it?”

Clayton pauses mid-step, glancing at her. “Good.”

She forces a tight smile. “Just good?”

He shrugs, kicking off his shoes. “Yeah. It was fun.”

Something about the way he says it—the casual ease, the total lack of hesitation—makes Kaia’s skin prickle.

Fun.

It shouldn’t bother her. He deserves fun. He deserves to go on dates.

But she also spent the night putting his daughter to bed while he was out laughing with some random woman.

And that? That’s what really gets her.

“Glad to know you enjoyed yourself while I was here babysitting,” she mutters, unable to help it.

Clayton stills, his brows pulling together. “What?”

Kaia lets out a sharp breath, finally turning to face him. “Nothing. Forget it.”

“No.” He steps forward, crossing his arms. “Say it.”

She clenches her jaw. “It’s just—kind of funny, don’t you think?” She gestures vaguely. “Me watching your kid so you can go on a date?”

Clayton’s expression darkens. “Kaia, you’re not just babysitting. You know that.”

“Do I?” she snaps. “Because sometimes, it feels like that’s all I am. Like I’m just—some built-in support system so you can go off and live your life while I—”

She cuts herself off before she says something she can’t take back.

But Clayton is already staring at her like he knows.

Like he sees exactly what she won’t say.

He exhales sharply, shaking his head. “I didn’t ask you to wait up, Kaia.”

“I wasn’t waiting up,” she lies.

Clayton huffs out a bitter laugh. “Right.”

Silence stretches between them, thick and heavy.

And then, in a voice too quiet, too final, Clayton says, “We don’t need you, you know.”

It hits like a punch to the gut.

Kaia’s breath catches, her fingers curling into fists.

He must realize it the second it leaves his mouth because his face shifts, regret flashing across his features.

But it’s too late.

Kaia swallows, forcing herself to keep her chin up. “Good to know,” she says, voice hollow.

Then she grabs her jacket and walks out the door to go back to her own apartment.

[m--rtyr]

What would be considered the Big Bad of the scifi au, like what the Phoenix Drop gang is aiming to destroy? (Well, less gang and more militararic coalition cause this is a mech scifi dystopia au, but still, question stands)

Well it’s mostly structured like MCD, plot-wise. Not entirely, obviously, but I’m taking major pointers from it.

So mostly Zane.

Capitalism bad and all.

He’s trying to revive Garte’s old Mecha programme, without his father’s knowledge, so he can effectively usurp and find the relic that he knows that is compatible with his cybernetics, to try and power himself up. He collects the shards of the destroyer’s relic to keep him powered up temporarily, but the shards don’t work with his set up, they weaken him once they’ve worn off.

He will kill anyone for information, or shards, or even their parts if his own are beginning to fail. They fail often.

He starts beefing with PD because aph starts interfering with the small communities that he fucks over, and he’s starting to get the sneaking suspicion from his father’s own interest in the town that he’ll need to go through PD to get to the relic.

The SKs are also a hassle. They will attack anyone for parts, and start getting ballsy and start taking organic matter from people too. No ones sure what they’re planning. Zenix being affiliated is also a plot point still. Because he has to be around for me to feel joy.

[miniagula]

movie sonadow would be so l umity-coded…and i say this bc their dynamic is similar to the games but with a different and tender perspective: they both empathize deeply with each other now, and this shadow is not as reticent or closed off bc of that. that being said: movie!sonic would ABSOLUTELY 'YOU'RE the sweet potato!' the hell out of shadow

[lesiasmadness]

I see whomever chose pictures for the wiki has opinions on Clive

[marigoldendragon]

I wouldn't be surprised if Ace himself has a few searches he doesn't want anyone seeing.

Hahaha

It's probably a good mix between

- Questions about romance and 'how do I know if I'm in love with my friend'

- Questions about sex and weird kink stuff

- And stuff like how do I do *insert basic human life skill here*

Someone needs to tell him about basic internet safety if he doesn't want his search history exposed.

[winepresswrath]

I'm causally interested in basically all Fallout ship combinations, but I really need Walton Goggins/evil wife. plz make this good for me, show.

[vamptastic]

romancing astarion has thus far made me exponentially less attracted to him. can we go back to you serving face in the background and contributing the occasional quip while i go do my hero things? i can't listen to the pickup lines i cant. they're bad they're not good they're bad. and i don't know if hes doing this on purpose as some kind of sick and twisted test of faith or he thinks he is a master casanova. also if astarion can't lift a backpack full of plate armor he sure as hell cannot lift up my entire PC. sorry.

[racke7]

I've seen a few versions of this being "righteous rants", and I-... Hmm... What if we go a little bit further?

Danny knows that if the Justice League had ever gotten involved with the Amity Park situation? It would've been a disaster. They would've sent someone, they would've gotten overshadowed, and the town would've pretty much been razed to the ground.

Like, he would've still appreciated if they'd like... checked in or something? Or at least sent a message to the people of Amity Park about why they were staying the hell away.

But no, they got nothing. Radio-fucking-silence.

Danny isn't going to call the Justice League a bunch of dickheads, because they do seem to be doing good stuff outside of Amity Park. But it's very much a grudging kind of acknowledgment.

Then one of those fuckers tosses his car at one of their villains.

Did the guy need an improvised weapon? Maybe? Could he have used the light-pole right next to it? Absolutely. It would've even had better balance for if 'Superboy' wanted to continue wailing away at him with it.

It would've been a huge chunk of steel that he could've used to keep hitting the villain. But no. No, he had to use Danny's fucking car to throw at the villain.

And then he fucking misses the shot.

So, not only has he destroyed Danny's car for no fucking reason, he's also basically just chucked it through a building also for no fucking reason.

That's the kind of collateral-damage that would've seen Amity Park bring out torches and pitchfork and chase Phantom through the damn streets.

And here? Here it's just another fucking Tuesday.

Danny is-... Danny is just done with it.

No, not in the sense of a shrug and a 'what can you do'-attitude. No, Danny is done with accepting that this is okay. Because it isn't okay. And Danny is going to shove that down these fucker's throats as if it was fucking barbed wire.

This? This is the start of Danny's Villain-Arc. And he's going to make everyone responsible for it suffer.

(At least until Jazz cottons onto what he's doing and sits him down for a long talk about 'appropriate levels of retaliation', but that's probably still months away at this point. And the Justice League will rue the fucking day they crossed him.)

Short DPXDC Prompts #972

Danny is just trying to keep a stable job and pay rent in Metropolis. When Superboy takes his shitty old car and throws it at Parasite and misses. Something in Danny’s mind cracks. His wall of rage and restraint crumbles. He has words to say to Superboy for throwing his fucking car.

[thesilmarillionblog]

COME CLOSER

Summary: Reader asks her friend, Soldier Boy to take her virginity.

Pairing: Soldier Boy / Reader

Warnings: +18! (MINORS DNI), virgin reader!, smut, language, rough Soldier Boy, beard kink, dirty talk, multiple orgasms, friends with benefits

Word Count: 4052

A/N: English is not my first language.

You grabbed the gun from Ben's suit and placed it in your bag without even waiting for a response since you knew he wouldn't refuse you. “May I take this?” you said. “Just for safety issues.”

Ben joined the team to kill Homelander months ago, and because you two have been on missions together for so long, you two have kind of gotten to know one another. He frequently teased you, and most of the time he really got on your nerves. Another thing Butcher's wanted from you regarding Ben was to make sure you kept an eye on him while he was high or furious. 

He sighed, “You are already in safe hands,” and then gave you a little push toward the car, where Butcher and the other members of the team were waiting. “You know that you are something different. Trying to protect yourself with a firearm in spite of the fact that you already have three supes with you, me included, who are the strongest and greatest.” 

“After the job is completed, even the biggest dicks become smaller. I wonder if your gigantic ego will ever be smaller one day, Ben.”

“Not mine,” he winked at you in between his laughter before the two of you entered the car. “How on earth does a naive virgin speak like that? I must discipline your dirty mouth at some point.” 

He pushed until you reached the other side of the seat, and you muttered, “Shut up.” Your face flushed. “You leave no space for me.”

“Do I look like your personal driver?” Butcher growled at Hughie to come in too, questioned in a disapproving tone. Then Butcher turned back to Hughie, who was sitting in the passenger seat, and said, “Where the fuck is your girlfriend?”

“She arrived earlier with the others. They were driven there by Frenchie already.”

“Will you shut up and drive?” Ben messed with your hair for a while while ignoring what you said that he was going to ruin it, saying to Butcher in an irritated manner. 

“Good boy gone bad, huh?” Ben ignored you and filled the entire seat between your complaints. Butcher murmured, “Let's fucking have some fun there since we may not be finding any free time soon, Navy girlies.” 

Luckily, Butcher managed to locate a club devoid of supes, but it was still massive and insane, complete with loud music. Hughie's gaze found Annie right away, and Butcher followed after him while he winked at the girl who was staring at him with a chuckle. 

You gave Ben a drink and complained, “Do I have to babysit you?” Even though all of the girls were capturing his attention, he was undoubtedly hearing what you were saying. 

He patted your head and said, "Babysit me?" with a look of astonishment. "Sweetheart, it's me who has been watching you for several months. After all, it's easy for you to get into trouble." 

"Me?" As he messed with your hair, you giggled and attempted to push his hands away. "You're always on the verge of being furious for no reason at all, and I have to keep your ego boosted when you are about to lose it." 

"Or maybe I act it this way to get you even more anxious; what do you think? Your human face looks so funny when you're trying to calm me," he smirked and remarked with arrogance. 

Punching him in the chest, you said, "You're impossible," although your wrist ached. You sighed in agony, "Fuck, Ben," and made sure everything was okay by looking at your hand. Thankfully, there were no physical wounds. 

"Why the fuck have you tried to punch me now? Haven't you still learned I'm built to last?" he complained, gently massaging your hands. 

You muttered, "You're so annoying," while he sighed and released your hands. "I can't imagine why almost nobody likes you." 

"All you do this evening is talk rudely with that lovely mouth of yours and spit poison. Also, you are to blame. How many times do I have to tell you not to try to punch me? Wish to adopt a tough-ass persona? You're just a little sensitive, soft doll," he continued to tease, causing you to flush with rage. 

"Remember the day I gave myself a Temp-V injection? When I really punched you, you seemed rather surprised, and I'm sure it hurt." 

“I didn't think being a temporary Supe could happen, and that was a while ago.” Ben continued to smirk and replied, “Keep that in mind. I was merely trying to comprehend the change in your scent when you unexpectedly struck me and pushed me against the wall. You know, I should have been doing that. Of course, I'm not referring to the punching; rather, I'm speaking to the second one, but more gently.”

Ben flirted with you, giving you a tiny pinch on the chin and a wink. He was perhaps the most flirtatious man ever, but the reason he acted this way was that you told him you were a virgin, and even when he understood you were becoming too shy and a little anxious, he continued to tease you verbally. You didn't feel uncomfortable about it, though. 

“Whatever.” You rushed to end it, fearing he would start talking even more profanely. You tried to silence him by putting your palm over his mouth. “When are you going to shave this beard? It's really lengthy.”

He murmured, “I thought you liked it longer and thicker,” as he combed his facial hair. 

This time, instead of being annoyed, you giggled. “You're impossible.” 

You said, “I'm going to check on Annie and others,” feeling a little guilty for something you didn't even understand when you saw him searching for women who fit his tastes. “So that you can have your fun.”

Ben, who had just bought a drink for himself, approached a redhead who had been staring at him passionately ever since he entered the bar. You led the way to join Annie and the rest of the team, but you were carrying a heavy weight that you couldn't quite explain. You did your best to ignore the stupid ache in your heart and laugh out loud at Butcher's half-made-up stories. It was a rare, heartfelt moment of calm after months, shared by all of you as you briefly watched the redhead woman take Ben's head and lead him to the second floor.

Ben's social batteries ran out after a few hours, and when he got into a fight with Butcher, you volunteered to take him home in your car because you were starting to have headaches too. Annie and Kimiko were dancing in the center; it appeared like they were just getting started. Either their heightened enthusiasm was to blame, or you simply didn't feel like having fun at that particular time. Ben was the source of your annoyance because he preferred to spend his time in the club having fun with other women and left you kind of alone.

You just said, “I will drive Ben back; just stop arguing for once,” and snatched Butcher's keys. “I assume everyone will be arriving home late. It appears that Kimiko and Annie won't be calling it a night anytime soon.” After observing them for some time, they realized you were right. Kimiko was high as fuck.

Ben didn't have a shower in his own room, so he quickly took one in yours once you drove home. Surprisingly, he hasn't complained to Butcher about it in any manner, and you've allowed him to use yours anytime he needs to, even if he occasionally takes a shower a bit too frequently, leading you to believe that he does it on purpose to irritate and enrage you so that you two can argue. But no matter what, his unique word choice never failed to make you chuckle.

As he was taking care of himself in the bathroom, you considered something you had long since ignored: your virginity. You could never go one step beyond, not even if you were in your mid-20s. You just didn't want it to be just one fleeting, pointless act, and you didn't feel anything at all. Perhaps you were a shamefully traditional person who was eagerly awaiting the realization of your real fate.

Ben used to make jokes about your virginity, which you didn't mind, but tonight it kind of got under your skin and made you feel uneasy, like there was something wrong with you. It just didn't seem right at all to be a virgin in your mid-twenties. 

“You appear to be lost in thoughts. What's consuming your mind so much?” Ben queried. 

His long beard and damp hair were pouring over the floor as he emerged from the bathroom, his thick, muscular belly wrapped in a towel. Your eyebrows are raised between your sighs. Though you always knew he was extremely attractive, he seemed even more so at this moment. 

Ben glanced at your short dress too, seeing that you were staring at him as your lips parted slightly in a hint of yearning. He smirked, conceited, seeing your legs pushed together. 

“I think I can make a guess.” He walked over to sit on the bed next to you and mumbled. 

You hesitantly said, “I was thinking something,” not quite sure what to say exactly. 

“About?”

You abruptly asked, trying not to flush too much as you moved the bed and fully turned your body to face him. “Would you take my virginity?” 

Ben exclaimed, “What?” with his lips parted in wonder as he tried to understand what you meant and raised an eyebrow. 

“You already heard me.” 

Ben laughed and ignored your request, saying, “Are you drunk or do you need to jerk off? You're going to be a good nun when you grow up.”

“I'm serious here,” you said, blushing red from embarrassment and rage at the fact that the fact that he didn't take you seriously at all.

Ben's mocking expression changed to one of confusion as he realized you were serious. “I thought you were waiting for the love of your life or something. Why did you change your mind all of a sudden?”

“I wasn't waiting for someone,” you denied right away. “I decided being like this bothers me, and I want to change it.”

You continued, “We have known each other for months, and I think we kind of formed a good friendship during this time,” before he said anything, you added, “It must be okay to ask your friend for help, and it's better than to be with a total stranger, right?”

“I'm not the right person to share something like that.” Ben said in a serious tone, “I don't know why you made this decision so quickly, but you'll regret it tomorrow, I promise. If you are horny, I can give fingerfuck you, though.” It was clear that he was not hearing you clearly. 

“It's not really that significant, is it? I didn't wait for someone right away, as I had said. If I knew I would regret saying it, I wouldn't have said it in the first place. What's the purpose of friends?”

Hesitantly, you reached out to touch his damp arms to gauge his reaction while also conveying your concern. You felt your small confidence begin to fade as you noticed he was staring at you with the same expression, so you brought your hands back to yourself. “Well, of course I won't try to convince you to take my virginity if you don't want to get into such an intimate interaction with me,” you said, trying not to seem offended or disappointed. “It's a different issue.”

Your heart raced under your thin dress as you anxiously awaited his response. 

“I would fuck you with pleasure; it's not that I don't want it,” he added, examining your bare legs and breasts as they rose and fell in time with your heavy breaths. He whispered, placing his rough palms on your chin. “But I can't promise it won't hurt, and I don't want it to be just a one-time thing.”

You muttered, “I know it's going to hurt,” and at last he relaxed and seemed to agree. 

He smirked and continued, “I'll fuck your cunt whenever I want,” staring right into your eyes and making you tremble at the sensation. “You'll spread your legs for me and beg me to fuck you.”

“It's better,” you said as his hand lowered to your throat, causing you to become even more thrilled. You chuckled awkwardly and murmured, “Practice makes perfect, right?”

Your lips parted in ecstasy as his thumb massaged your hardened nipple, and he gently pinched it between his fingers through your dress. He didn't even slightly break eye contact with you, as if he wanted to watch every move you made. 

Ben mumbled, “I wonder if you're dripping under there already,” as he climbed on top of you. Feeling uncertain about what action to take, you placed your quivering hands on his large chest. 

His palm stroked your pussy through your underpants, and you clenched around nothing, murmuring, “I feel like it.” You were already embarrassingly drenched; you knew that. 

“Ben,” you murmured quickly, and his hand instantly froze there. He stared at you, confused, not knowing if you wanted to stop or not. You grabbed his wrist and stopped him just as he was about to return his hand to himself. “Can you do the entire job for tonight” you said in a hesitant manner. “I have absolutely no idea what to do.”

Ben surprised you with a kiss on the forehead and said, “Of course I'll do the entire job. You just lay down and relax. I'm going to take care of you well, okay?”

You nodded quickly, trusting that Ben knew what to do when he started to rub your pussy through your underwear again. Your hips rose higher to meet his movements as he played with your clit with a gentle thumb. “Let's get rid of your dress, huh?” he said, helping you to remove it from your body. You were lying under him naked, except for your underwear.

You wanted to hide your body with your hands because you felt a little shy, but you forced yourself to look at him with courage because you wanted this to be good. Even if he was already erect under the towel, he ignored his own needs to give you the pleasure you needed first.

Then he pinched your nipples once more and added, “You have such lovely tits.” Before you could respond, he put his warm lips on one of your tits and started sucking, giving you very light bites. You were a little scared that he could harm you because you had a big power imbalance since he was a supe, but you chose to put your trust in him because you knew he had experience having intercourse with normal people just like you.

As he continued licking both of your nipples, you placed your hands behind his hair and pulled. You pushed his head to your tit as you raised your hip to match his movement, but you moaned loudly when he ripped off your panties and inserted one of his meaty fingers inside of you slowly, even though you were trying really hard not to scream. It was difficult to take even one finger, so tears welled up in your eyes, but you didn't want to ruin the moment.

Groaning, “Fuck, you are tighter than I expected,” he lifted his head.

When he noticed your pained expression, he began to gently massage your clit with his thumb once again. Thankfully, this helped you feel better, and after a while, you began to slowly tighten around his finger.

He asked in a rough voice, “Do you like me fingering you?” and continued to push his finger in and out. “Your pussy is so adorable and swollen. You so desperately need me to fuck you raw.”

He commanded, “Tell me it's just for me,” tensing up his motions as you continued to tighten around his finger.

You said, “Just for you,” and he attempted to press another finger, but you were simply too tense to take it. You said, “Ben, be slow,” in a panic.

“In order for you to take me easier, we need to properly prepare your little pussy. Now spread your legs and don't cover that adorable cunt,” he gave another command. It was then that you realized you were attempting to press your legs together.

You spread your legs so he could see you as per the directions he gave. You let out a loud cry of pleasure and agony as he carefully inserted another finger. Ben swallowed your groans and stretched you with two fingers, his warm lips meeting yours in a passionate kiss.

You were moaning inside his mouth while his tongue and fingers dominated you. Ben felt your wetness on his fingers, your hips rising to match his rhythm, and he felt like he might come without even touching himself.

With a harsh voice, he commanded, “Cum on my fingers,” and proceeded to fuck you while your walls tensed up. With a loud moan and his name between your lips, you nailed his biceps while he watched you orgasm under his touch. “Good girl. You are so easy to make cum. Fuck, you're a needy one.”

You continued orgasming and wetting them while Ben held your fingers within. Even though your pussy felt extremely sensitive, he continued to finger you without giving you a minute's break after your climax had passed.

“Ben, it feels sensitive.”

“Fucking take it,” he growled. “You'll come as much as I want you to.”

You muttered, “I don't think I can,” as your legs continued to shake uncontrollably.

“You can and you will,” Ben responded, and he proceeded to fuck you even more forcefully than before.

The bedroom was filled with obscene noises, and your eyes welled up with tears of pleasure.

“Cum to me,” he commanded again, and you instantly clenched around his fingers. Putting your hands over his head, you kissed him, pressing your lips to his in an attempt to stop your moans.

As you orgasmed, you sensed him grinning slightly against your lips throughout the kiss. He whispered, “You're so fucking tight, you're almost going to lock me inside your pussy,” as you calmed down after your climax subsided. “I guess you're ready now.”

Your eyes widened with fear and dread as he removed the towel from his belly and threw it to the ground, revealing his firm cock. Ben began to give himself brief strokes while spreading your legs apart. Aware of your discomfort, he smiled slightly at you. “I'll do my best to be gentle. You're enough soaked already.”

You nodded to him, waiting tensely as you watched him pump himself between his rough hands. You tensed up abruptly as the tip of his cock touched your entrance, and he took himself in hand after giving it enough strokes.

He said, “Relax,” and kept pushing the tip inside. “Fuck, take it already.”

You attempted to let him in, your legs trembling with desire and dread, but you couldn't stop clenching.

You whimpered, your eyes welling with tears, as he thrust his cock inside with a forceful move. You also pulled his hair around his neck. Your hips were being held in place by his hands, preventing you from moving them. You were certain that it would bruise badly.

You cried out in fear, “Ben,” as he persisted in pushing. Tears fell from the corner of your eyes onto the covers when you were nailing his arms.

He groaned, “Calm down,” and gave you some time to relax. “It's just the head.”

“Sorry,” you said, ashamed that you weren't able to bear pain and adding unnecessary difficulty to the procedure.

His eyes widened at the sight of your face, and he planted a gentle kiss on your forehead. He whispered, “Hey, it's okay. You take me so good, so warm,” in between kisses and proceeded to place his cock inside of you once more. You knew it was a major step for you when you felt like he broke your hymen. This time, his hands gently remained on your hips as he sensed a change in your feelings.

Thank goodness, you relaxed between his kisses and compliments, and your wetness allowed him to enter at last. Ben gave you time to get used to his size after his cock completely filled your insides.

After planting another hard kiss on your lips, he asked, “Are you okay now?” and stroked your cheeks. 

You responded, “I'm okay,” as the agony lessened and you began to get pleasure from his cock pulsing inside of you. 

Ben put his hands on the sheets, and as he started to move slowly inside of you, you locked your legs around his hip. 

He groaned, “You're so tight around me,” as he began to move faster. “I should have fucked you sooner.”

He gave you quick kisses, and his bushy beard tickled your chin as he began to fuck you quickly and roughly. “I'll turn this little cunt addicted to my cock.”

As you continued to moan beneath him, he gave another order: “Tell me you want me to fuck you hard.”

You murmured, “Please,” and he slowed down. 

Ben wrapped his hand around your neck and said, “Beg me properly,” but he wasn't using force against you. 

You sighed, “Fuck me hard, please, Ben.” You moaned as you saw his mucsles stretching as he continued to penetrate you quickly and roughly. Your hands nailed his chest and broad abdomen. 

He put your legs on his shoulders and stated, “I'm going to fuck you every day; make you my little cumslut. Do you enjoy having your friend fuck you? Does this turn you on?”

When he kept talking filth, you couldn’t stop clenching around his cock.

He moaned, “Fuck,” in between hard strokes. “Look at this pussy clench. You really get turned on by it.”

Ben intensified his movements as your legs trembled with pleasure around his hips, and you felt your climax strike with a loud moan and a cunning sneer on his face. You tried biting your lip to muffle the moans, but it was difficult as Ben fucked you raw, on top of you, dominating your whole body. 

He whispered, “I'm going to fuck your face another time,” and put his thumb inside your mouth. “Suck it. Prove to me how much you crave my cock inside your mouth.”

You groaned in displeasure as he slowed. Ben strictly said, “Suck it, show me how badly you want my cock inside your mouth, and I'll fuck you as you need,” when you lifted your hips to get him to return to his previous rhythm. 

With the expectation that he would like it, you put your lips around his thumb and started to lick it with your tongue. 

He mumbled, “Fuck yes, gonna cum inside that mouth,” and started fucking you quickly and roughly once more. 

He muttered, “Almost there,” and continued to fuck you while staring at your bouncing tits. 

His hardness continued to throb inside of you as you tightened around him one more time and orgasmed. He moaned and spilled inside of you, filling you with his thick and warm ropes. 

Ben continued to fill your pussy as your climax subsided. You felt incredibly satisfied because you felt so full of his seed. 

When he was finished, he carefully pulled out his cock, exposing the blood at the tip. Ben gave you a long, hard kiss on the lips when he noticed you were staring at it. 

You offered him a tiny smile as he whispered, “Come closer,” and he embraced you with his large arms. “Are you alright?” 

You continued to stroke his beard while responding, “Yes.” Actually, you've never felt better.

You can check my MASTERLIST for more.

[oooohno]

This is sooo good!!! I was waiting all day to indulge in this & I’m blown away by how much I enjoyed it! <33

"Payments happen immediately after a service...it wouldn't be right paying you back days later, especially after you did such an amazing job" You reasoned, your voice barely above a whisper as you tilted your head up; brushing your nose against his "I prefer to pay you back now, kay?"

I am on my hands and knees. The buildup in this entire scene was so good and then this part right here was my undoing!

"Hanta," He corrected you, wringing his hand from your grasp to slowly stroke his knuckle up and down your slit call me that, and l'lI do what you want, you needly little thing."

I NEED HIM!!!! I will have this specific line on repeat in my mind for the next 7382726 business days IT IS SO GOOD ❤️‍🔥

word count: 10.2K

paring: Sero x fReader

warning(s): dirty talking, fingering(f! receiving), premature ejaculation, messy sex, semi-public sex (if ya squint) - you know the works here, pretty standard smut, nothing too crazy.

authors note: Happy Belated Birthday to me! Not only did the amazing Onyx give me this idea MONTHS ago about the dynamic between Sero and I, but this won the poll for what I was going to work on next - and though I went with Bakugou's story first (cause it was fresher in my mind) I have finally finished this! AND OH BOY, how self-indulgent I was with this one - I am not known for my dialog but couldn't help but put lots in here! That being said, I did try and keep this as generic as I could, just may not be AS generic, ya know? Anyway, I hope you all love this glorified tape dispenser as much as I do~🔮

Sero had always loved to draw, even when he was a little kid. What started as scribbles covering the walls of his home turned into small doodles - those that filled his notebooks more than his writing and school work turned into piles and piles of sketchbooks that were filled with intricate drawings and were stacked high within the confines of his room. 

He remembered being little, using washable markers to doodle fun patterns and designs on his arms and the arms of his friends, remembering how most recess breaks were filled with doing a doodle request for several fellow classmates. To being older, and having those same classmates come up to him to see if they could utilize his skills to make projects look nicer; to make epic banners for school events, or to make posters pop in his signature way. Even while he was in college, next to a prestigious art school that only accepted a handful of creatives a year, he had people beg him to create designs for tattoos they were wanting to get; willing to pay lots of money so they could forever have a drawing of his on their skin.

And that sparked something inside him. A passion to turn a hobby into a career.

It took years and years of effort, of schooling, of practicing, of littering his skin with designs both good and bad - and subsequently spending more time fixing his faults - and then shadowing those more experienced, to be taken into their shops and under their wings, so he may draw on the bodies of those that were hoping to decorate their skin. Not all patrons were ideal; some were not hygienic, and others moved too much and then complained of sloppy work, demanding a refund. And not all shop owners were pleasant to work for; many accepted clients even when they shouldn't, often dismissing those beneath them out of pride and a superiority complex, and always taking the side of those patrons trying to scam him and his time. But there were a few people that made it all worth it in the end, a few colleagues turned friends that made ‘sticking it out’ much more bearable.

And without all the bumps and hurdles, Sero would not have become as confident in his abilities and his worth, and he would not have had the chance to meet so many amazing people and artists - some of which had the same goal and ideas in mind as he did; who would follow him wherever he went. Before he even knew it, Hanta Sero finally achieved his goal, of making his childhood dream and hobby into a reality. He finally owned his tattoo parlor. 

He found a little shop within the city, perfect enough for him and a few friends to call their own, to create their own brand, and to make their own living; to finally call the shots and have complete creative control. The building itself was a little run down - something to be expected with the small price tag attached - but it was the ideal size for all of them and in the perfect location. So no one cared that it needed a few months of intense TLC to get the building up to code, it was more than worth the effort. And before anyone knew it the inspector came to claim the building was up to standards, giving the business license and the all-clear to start accepting patrons; it only took a few days before people heard the news.

When word got around that Sero and his business partners had finally opened their shop, to start accepting clients and creating art on their skin that they would enjoy for a lifetime, so many jumped on the chance to get an appointment with them - Sero especially. Some were people he had known for years, eagerly awaiting another drawing of ink, and some were those that saw his work on the many social pages advertising the business that wanted to add another to their growing collections. Whatever the case was, once he turned on the neon ‘open’ sign on the day of opening, he and his friends were booked for months in advance.

And the cherry on top of all of this? Another wonderful addition to the streams of success he was facing, was the bookstore that sat just across the street from him. 

Not because he was into books, though he did read from time to time and enjoyed it when he did, but because of the owner that bookshop had. At first, he couldn’t be sure you were the owner, but day in and day out he watched you show up at opening and leave at closing, and unless you were an incredibly dedicated employee, it was an easy assumption to make. And Sero couldn’t deny that he thought you were pretty when he first caught sight of you through his window after closing on his first day; and he couldn’t deny that he would wait with anticipation when you closed your shop and would begin making your way home, just so he could get a glimpse of your cute face.

He wished he had the free time to go and speak to you, to see you up close and hear your voice (which he could just tell was adorable and sweet), but his clientele made it nearly impossible for him to get the chance. By the time the last client would leave, your shop would already be closed, and for some time, with you nowhere in sight. There were just simply not enough hours in the day for him to spare to meet you; as well he was terrified of canceling an appointment or rejecting a client so early on in all of this, afraid that one bad comment could ruin the shop and cause it to sink.

But Sero always made the best of any situation, that was part of his charm. He figured that if he didn’t have the time to go in and speak to you, to properly act on his little crush, he would let you know who he was and his existence through different means. 

Romantic gestures that could be seen as small and friendly - those that wouldn’t scare you off or have you become afraid. He started by sending you flowers; a small bouquet to help liven your shop if you wanted; which you did if the vase by your check-out counter was any indication. Next were chocolates, all bundled in pretty wrapping paper for you to carefully tear away. Then balloons, attached to a small gift basket with quality skincare items that could be found at his shop with his business card nustled amongst the jars and tins to ensure that you knew who sent them and that it was from the new neighbor across the street - not some strange admirer. 

He could tell that you liked them, given the delight that bloomed on your face whenever you received them - the bright smile as you brought those flowers to your nose to inhale their earthy scent, or when you eagerly started to open up some of the chocolates to enjoy, or when you carefully inspected each tin of cream; placing a small dollop on the back of your hand before putting them aside and back to your work. Sero especially knew you liked them when, a week later, you sent a gift basket back to him filled with artisan treats from the local farmers market; with a card welcoming the new store to the neighborhood.

After a while of staring hopelessly at you, to the point where all his friends were relentlessly teasing him, Sero finally made the decision to meet you properly; to make his way over to your shop to say hello. 

“And it has nothing to do with Kaminari!” he exclaimed at Kirishima and Mina, ensuring they could hear him over the snickering, as he grabbed his jacket to sling over his shoulders.

“Sure, whatever you say, big guy~” Mina sang as waved goodbye with a wink, clearly not buying it - especially as Kaminari just got back from your shop, book in hand that you recommended.

Sero shook his head, out of frustration at Mina’s words knowing that she called his bluff, as he slammed the door shut behind him and briskly walked across the street; breathing a sigh of relief, one that made the tension in his shoulder slack, when he stepped foot into your shop. It was everything he thought a bookstore should be; it was cozy and warm, the kind that would make anyone instantly at ease and would spend hours just curled up to read; which he assumed the patron he walk passed had been doing all day.

“Welcome! Can I help you?” A voice sang through the air, causing his head to turn to face a young woman - sadly not you - wearing an apron with the store's logo on it.

“Uh, not sure.” Sero smiled, nodding his head in acknowledgment, and as a polite hello, before gazing around.

“First time here?” She inquired, moving behind a nearby counter to grab a stack of books.

“Yeah, pretty obvious huh?”

“A little, many have the look on their face when they first come in. It’s a little overwhelming at times, the place is a bit bigger than they assume.”

“You could say that again…” Sero could hear her airy giggle, watching in the corner of her eye as she began to sort through the titles.

“I can give you the run down if you like?”

“Please, if you don’t mind.”

“Not a problem at all, sir.” She smiled, pausing her task to free her hands for gesturing with her explanation  “This place is a lot like a library, people can come and go as they please, staying all day if they want to, without the pressure of needing to buy something. They can also borrow books for a small fee if they want, to ensure they don’t waste their money on a bad book, or they can obviously purchase them if they want.”

“A safe haven for those that love books, huh?” Sero chimed with a smile, taking another glance at all the sitting areas close to him - the plush pillows and fireplace inviting for those that would want to curl up.

“Pretty much, that was the idea” The employee agreed, already starting to sort again “Have a look and take all the time you need.”

Sero left her with a ‘thank you’ and another nod before venturing further into the store - taking stock of what sections of books there were and all the small cozy nooks for people to curl up in; taking his time to explore the entirety of the shop before leaving. “For research purposes, in case I wanna go back” he would mumble to himself, ready to defend his actions from his teasing friends upon his return. It was for those reasons, and those alone, not at all because he was trying to find you.

He finally did come across you, after what seemed like hours of searching, hidden away within the Historical Fiction sections tucked near the back walls, shelving some books that were stacked within your arms and reorganizing the ones that had been misplaced. To say Sero was smitten with you would have been an understatement before, but now? Seeing you so close? Smitten would not even begin to compare to how love-struck he was; one so strong it struck him dumb and left him unable to do anything but look at you.

“Sir?” 

Sero couldn’t tell if he was lucky or not to have your voice call out to him; luck that it broke him out of the stupor he was in, unlucky that he was unable to say or do anything more than gaze up at you with his mouth agape.

“Do… do you need help with anything?” Your sweet voice called out to him again, though clearly confused, and it made Sero look away to try and gain his thoughts once more.

“A-art book.” He cleared his throat, cheeks turning hot and red as his eyes did their best to look anywhere but you “Looking for one of those.”

“Well, which one?” You smiled, biting your lip to hide it as you gently placed the books you were holding down.

“Art, The Definitive Visual Guide” Sero blurted, voice sounding rushed as he named the first art book he bought when in college; watching as your brows furrowed as you took a moment to process what he said.

“By Dixon?” 

“Y-yes!” Sero exclaimed, eyes brightening and heart swelling with pride when you giggled over his excitement.

“Well, that would be in our art section, which would be…” You began to lean forward, carefully perching yourself on your ladder to see past the bookshelf currently in your way “Ah! Just over there!”

“O-over there?” Sero nodded, trying his best to not be affected by the smell of your shampoo as it lingered in the air as you moved to stand upright again “T-that’s perfect thank you!”

“Oh, no worries at all! You just let me know if you can’t find it okay?” You smiled, already picking your books back up.

Sero smiled back, giving a wave goodbye, before almost scurrying away; head hanging in defeat once he knew you were out of sight. A small part of him hoped he couldn’t find the book so he could talk to you again, but he knew that would be a mistake - especially as the spine of the book stared right back at him when he first began looking in the section you sent him to. Begrudgingly he accepted his fate, bringing the book up to the front cash and paying the borrowing fee to the employee he met earlier.

He came back to the parlor feeling like a complete idiot over messing up his first proper encounter with you, not doing at all what he planned to do - not being the effortlessly charming and fun guy he knew he was. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t keep stopping by. 

After all, he had to return the book he borrowed.

~

Sero waited a week, in his mind if he went back the next day it would cause him more harm than good; would lead to you asking him way more questions than he would want about the book itself - and well, he already made a fool of himself once. Besides, the week-long buffer would allow him the chance to clear his head and come up with a game plan, so he could be properly prepared himself to see you again.

Because this time he wanted to start an actual conversation with you, one where he could learn about who you were, why you opened this store and everything in between that led to this moment in time. He wanted to know if his crush on you was justified, or if he should just cut his losses now before he was in too deep. But to be fair, based on what all his friends have said, he already was; even so, he couldn’t hold onto that book forever.

Regardless of what the outcome may be, he had to see you again; even if it meant rescheduling a client for a Sunday to make up the lost time, he just had to get to you and your store before closing.

And it was the perfect time to go he found. The store was almost completely empty, with seemingly no one else in the building but you as you began your usual routine for closing - so dutifully organizing stacks of papers and placing books that needed to be returned into a neat little pile; he almost felt bad for clearing his throat and breaking you out of your stride.

“H-hi!” You exclaimed, your body jolting in surprise when you regarded him, clearly not used to anyone being here so late “I’m sorry I didn’t notice you sooner, I hope you weren’t waiting long!”

“No you’re fine, I just walked in,” Sero reassured, taking a step closer to your counter.

“Oh, are you here to return that art book? The one by Dixon?” You asked, back straightening as you smiled up at him. “I hope you liked it!”

“I did, it was a great read.” Sero mirrored your smile as he handed the book back over to you, enjoying the way your smaller hand brushed against his briefly “Though I was wondering if you could me find a similar book?”

“Sure, of course! Do you want a recommendation or are you looking for a specific title?”

“Uh, Creatives on Creativity is what I am looking for,” Sero said, breathing a mental sigh of relief over remembering the title - one he only heard of a day prior when searching for art books to ask you about.

“Creatives on Creativity…” You mumbled, turning to your computer to check if you had the title in stock - the sound of a keyboard clacking could be heard, filling the silent space briefly “By Steve Brouwers?”

“Yup! That’s the one” Sero confirmed with a nod, perfectly hiding the fact he was completely unsure as he watched you round the counter of the counter with a wave.

“Yeah, we should have a few in stock if you would follow me!”

You took him back to the Art Section, your stride confident as you weaved your way through bookcases and magazine towers, as you began locating the book in question; trying to remember where exactly you cataloged it - whether it was with the Art Help books or the Art Education ones.

Sero followed behind you, keeping his stride to a more casual pace to avoid possibly stepping on your heels, as he regarded your profile; enjoying the concentrated gazes, those mixed with slight perplexity, as you looked from shelf to shelf trying to help him out. Never before was he grateful, and possibly will never be again, about having trouble trying to find a book.

“Can I ask you something?” He finally spoke, watching as you began to stand on a small stool to look at a higher shelf, figuring his time was running out.

“Uh, sure?” You muttered, voice soft as you continued on your hunt. “Go ahead”

“I’m sure you get asked this all the time, but I’m curious as to what a bookshop owner's favourite book is?” 

“Oh! Wow, that’s a great question!” You said, finally sparing him a brief glance with a smile “And one that’s kinda tough to answer. I love books from all genres for different reasons, so to compare one that’s horror to one that’s fantasy is a little difficult to do.”

“Well, what are you enjoying right now?” Sero asked, body leaning against the bookshelf so he could continue gazing up at you.

“Uhh, wow what am I reading right now?” You chuckled nervously as your mind began to race, feeling your cheeks heat up as you heard him do so as well “Let's see… probably The Historian, it’s a thriller mystery kinda deal - involves vampires and stuff - it’s proving to be quite fun” 

“Vampires?”

“Yeah… it’s historical fiction. It blurs the lines of what happened with whatever our imaginations can think of with the folklore of Vlad Țepeș and Dracula. Partly why I like it I guess…”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Sero hummed, watching as you scanned the titles before you, almost as if you were counting each one for inventory later “Take it that’s why you opened this place? Fell in love with reading books from far and wide?”

“Something like that” You agreed with a shrug of your shoulders “Wanted to be a librarian, always thought they had a great gig going on, and one thing led to another and, well, here we are.”

As you spoke your deft fingers delicately pulled the book you both were looking for from its place in the self, where it was hiding. Once you secured it in your grip, you slowly descended from your stool handing the book out to him once your feet were securely on the ground.

“And here you are.” You smiled, watching as he stood upright and uncrossed his arms.

“Thanks, for finding this for me” He gingerly took the book from you and tucked it under his arm, smiling wider at your cheery response back; following you obediently back up to the cash to once again pay the borrowing fee.

“Hey, if you don’t mind…” Sero began, fingers tapping nervously against the wood of the countertop “I have one more question to ask ya.”

“Sure, go ahead!” You giggled, amused by his polite curiosity as you began the transaction of payment.

“Would you want to go for some coffee sometime?”

His question made your fingers fumble on the touchpad, causing an error screen to pop up and for you to almost frantically try to fix, and you nervously cleared your throat; face going hot in surprise and embarrassment over your stumbled, and failed, answer back.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you or make you uncomfortable” Sero tried to soothe, hands raising up and away from the bubble around you to prove he meant no harm “Just think you’re cute and would like to treat you to some coffee, that’s all.”

“W-well, that’s um, very sweet of you, I just um…” You floundered, doing your best to finish quickly so you could hide away from him - to shield him from witnessing your embarrassment further “Just don’t think that would be a good idea?”

“You don’t? Why not?”

“Y-you know, we’re strangers! We only met a few days ago and all….”

“Actually we’re neighbors, good ones at that if our gift exchange was anything to go by.” Sero clarified, watching as the realization of who he was crossed your face, his hands lowered to shove themselves in his jacket pockets before shrugging his shoulders “But hey, not gonna pressure you or anything. If you don’t want to that’s cool, I won’t pressure you!”

“I’m flattered, believe me, just….” You countered a sheepish look on your face as you passed the book back his way for him to take “Maybe some other time.”

“Sure thing, thank you again,” Sero said, giving you one last small smile before taking his book and leaving; wishing you a good night as he walked past the threshold of your store with a wave.

A few things were certain that night; the first being that you were worth having a crush on, and he would love the chance to treat you right. And second, you were not used to the straightforward approach, and if he didn’t want to screw anything up, he would have to be patient and go about things slowly.

But Sero Hanta was up for any challenge, and you were more than worth the wait.

~

After that night, Sero found himself stopping by your shop a few times a week; to return a new book he borrowed (and spent the night before diligently reading), and to further chat with you. The conversations were always led by a question or two before it sparked into something beautiful - he loved the way you would ramble, talking with your hands, as you explained something, how passionate you got over the things you loved, and how blessed he found himself when you tried to tell a story from when you were younger but couldn’t over your laughter of remembering it all.

And after each night, when the conversation had reached its end and the book he had paid for was tucked snugly under his arm, he would, without fail, ask you out on a date as he was leaving your shop; in love with the smile and the amused shake of your head when you bid him a simple goodnight, to - “try again some other time” - before shutting the door behind him and switching you sign to closed.

Slowly but surely you were coming out of your shell, becoming more than eager to spend the last hour in his company; you didn’t realize it right away, but soon you found yourself noticing how excited you got when you would greet him. Or how you would try and keep the conversation going just a little bit longer as you walked to the cash, not wanting the night to end so soon. And how you would linger close to him before closing the door and saying good night. He was fun company, some of the best you ever had, and you couldn’t deny that you were starting to catch feelings for him too; to slowly become as enamored as he was.

Sero noticed this little factor as well, after a couple of months of visiting, when it was you who ask him a question; as you gingerly took hold of his arm to get a better look at the intricate tattoo that was perfectly placed on his forearm after handing him his recently purchased item.

“Did you do this yourself?” You whispered, almost in awe, as your fingertips barely brushed over the details of the design.

“Yeah,” Sero breathed out, quite taken aback by your bold action - though nowhere near complaining. “Took a while, but I think it turned out great.”

“Did you design it too?”

“Mm-hmm, designed all the tattoos on my body.” His eyes shifted their gaze from his arm to your face, “Wanted to work on my skin first before anyone else’s, just in case I wasn’t good at it.”

“I think it’s safe to say that you are, it’s beautiful work.”

“Do you have one?” 

“N-no…” You broke your gaze away, taking a step back from him - completely aware of how close and possibly inappropriate you were behaving.

“You want one?” Sero inquired with a clear of his throat; wanting nothing more than to move closer to you again, to gain that moment of intimacy once more, but knew he couldn’t

“Well yeah,” You shrugged, looking anywhere but at him, “But I just never really know what to get, and I don’t wanna regret getting something cause it’ll be on my skin forever, you know?”

“I can design something for you if you want?” 

“You would?”

“Obviously, wouldn’t offer if I didn’t want to!” He smiled, grabbing a piece of scrap paper and a marker from your countertop “Just tell me some things that you like, and I’ll come up with something! See, I already know you like owls, and foxes, and of course historical fiction and fantasy books…”

“Sero, listen this is really sweet! I am honored you would do this for me and all but….” You began, cutting him off from his parade of knowledge of all things you loved - heart swelling almost uncomfortably with the attention - “But really, you don't have to do this for me.”

“You kidding, I would love to! If I didn’t I wouldn’t have done this for a living; hard to make a career out of something you hate!”

“Yeah, clearly, I obviously get it. But even so, you’re booked for months! You got plenty of other clients that need your attention and designs a lot more than I do.”

“Oh ho~ How do you know I’m booked for months?” Sero teased, enjoying how you looked away in fake annoyance as your shoulders raised in embarrassment “Even if I was, which you’re so cutely right that I am, I would reserve a spot for you regardless.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, it can be after hours too, if you wanted.” Sero offered, with a shrug “Ya know if that would help put your nerves at ease; less people and all that stuff. And it could help make you feel better about accepting my offer~ I wouldn’t have to cancel on a client if you did.”

You sighed, shoulder slumping as you weighed his very tempting offer. You had been wanting a tattoo, ever since the new parlor opened across the street; and especially so every time you looked in Sero’s direction - the ink that was littered across his skin was beautiful - now here was the most perfect opportunity to finally get one and to get some more alone time with the artist himself; you knew you would regret it every day if you said no; despite your nerves telling you otherwise.

Squaring your shoulders you finally looked back at him, giving him a nod of approval over his proposition.

“Yes!” His fists thumped the counter as he proclaimed his excitement over your acceptance “I promise you won’t regret it! I’ll start working on the designs tonight and will have them done A-S-A-P!”

“Okay, okay!” You laughed, playfully rolling your eyes at his childish behavior “Sounds good to me.”

“Oh! One more thing!” He passed the marker over to you, his palm slayed out as if acting as a canvas “I’ll need your number so I can both let you know when the design is done and so I can book you in for your appointment.”

“Okay, well then hand me the paper you were just scribbling on” You pointed and the scrap paper, brows furrowing when you watched him shake his head ‘no”. 

“No can do babe, it’s covered with stuff already. Just write it on my hand”

“Sero, this is a permanent marker, I’m not going to do that!”

“I think I’m more than comfortable with permanent ink on my skin,” Sero winked, moving his palm closer to you “It’ll come off in a few days, but hey, if you don’t want me to leave you could just say so~”

You couldn’t help rolling your eyes again, hating that he was right and you were wasting time yet again to have him stay longer. You acquiesced, taking hold of his hand to keep it steady as you carefully wrote your number, being sure it was as clear as possible to avoid any confusion or mishaps that could be caused if you didn’t.

You watched as Sero left, head held high and chest filled with puffed-up pride as he sauntered back to the parlor; clearly happy with himself at winning you over and gaining your number.

~

It only took four days before you got the message from Sero; stating, with plenty of exclamation marks, about how your design was done and to stop by at any time to come and review the sketches - he was more than happy to squeeze you in at a time that worked best for you; whether that be between a client or after-hours.

And well, the thought of coming after hours was tempting, your confidence in quelling those nerves that swam in your stomach wasn’t strong enough yet; you were already pushing your limits when it came to the tattoo appointment. But the thought of you extending your lunch break by a few minutes seemed like a good idea.

The sign said ‘Closed for Lunch’ when you finally made your way across the street, and though Sero was insistent that you could come in regardless, you were still a little hesitant; standing by the door debating whether to knock or just walk in.

The decision was made for you when a woman with beautiful soft pink hair opened the door, startling you out of your thoughts as she asked if she could help you with anything.

“I-i’m just here to review some sketches…” You mumbled, hands playing nervously with your phone that still had the messages from Sero open “But I can come back if you’re closed!”

“It’s with Sero right?” She inquired, golden eyes squinting at you as they scanned you from head to toe; 

“Yeah..” You nodded your head, trying your best not to shift your body in reaction to her gaze.

“Oh my gosh! So it’s you! The librarian across the street!” She squealed, wasting no time in taking your arm and pulling you into the shop  “I’ve heard so much about you! Just been dying to meet you! I’m Mina, one of the artists here.”

“Bookstore owner….” You mumbled, casting a shy smile her way as you gave her your name “Heard about you as well, it’s really nice to meet you too”

“Right, bookstore owner, sorry about that!” Mina waved in apology, taking a step back to appraise you once more “and I gotta say, super jealous of Sero that he snagged you as his client; you’re a total babe! Like, that outfit is to die for! Where’s you get it?”

You could feel the blood rush to your face at her statement, her brazen compliment both flattered and embarrassed you as you mumbled out a ‘thank you’ as you gazed down at what you were wearing.

“And oh my god, your nails!” She exclaimed again, taking hold of your hand to inspect closely inspect your delicately painted fingernails “These are so pretty! Where’d you get them done?”

“Uh, the spa a few blocks down the road” You answered with a breathless laugh at her enthusiasm “They always do a good job.”

“I can tell! I’ve always wanted to check them out, but was a little unsure, but now I’m definitely gonna go as soon as I can!” She squealed, squeezing your hand in delight “Oh, but you’re not here for me, which is a total bummer. Sero’s station is just back here, I’ll let him know you’re here!”

You gave her your thanks, appreciating her help and unknowingly helping you become more at ease, as she led you to Sero’s area; leaving you with a wave and a promise he’ll join you in a few minutes. 

His area was quite spacious, possibly the largest out of the others you passed, and the furthest from the front door. His chair and equipment sat near the center of it all, just slightly off to the left for others to pass by, and looked clean and organized as you peered around the room. He had a work table as well, pressed up against the wall, with a book of design and sketches.

If you were braver you would have opened it and gone through the slightly worn pages to see what they contained. But instead, you opted to scan the wall before you, taking in the fun, wild, and beautiful designs that were taped to them; staring in awe at just how beautiful they all were. Masterpieces in black and coloured ink, ones you were sure some lucky people got to wear proudly on their skin.

Or perhaps they were littered on his…

Sadly, you couldn’t allow your mind the chance to wander to such thoughts, to wonder just how much of his body was covered in ink and how low some tattoos would travel, before you hear his footsteps approaching.

“Hey! Admiring the wall?” He greeted, his smile as bright and friendly as always when he greeted you

“Yeah, the designs are beautiful” You glanced back at him with a smile “But I think you already knew that.”

“What can I say, just like hearing people sing my praises!” He joked with an exaggerated shrug of his shoulders before walking up to you “But we’re not here to talk about these, eh?”

You watched as he gently, smoothly, pulled open a large drawer at the table you were currently standing at, one you didn’t realize was there given the sleek design. Carefully he pulled out a tiny stack of papers, laying them out before you to inspect and admire, as his arm kept him leaning over the table, and more importantly, you.

You tried your best not to be affected by his voice, how his breath tickled your ear, as he spoke about the direction he went with the designs. Some larger, more detailed as they encompassed all the things you loved - like the barn owl sounded by flora and books before a full moon - and some that were smaller, simply beholden of a single item you loved, like a sitting fox amongst fall leaves; and where on your body each tattoo would be placed.

He left a pause when he was done speaking, allowing you the chance to mill over what he said; to further inspect his designs, and to take your time in picking out what you wanted most; unable to help himself from staring at you, eyes half-lidded, as you bit your lip in concentration.

“I like the fox,” you finally whispered, pulling the sketch closer to you to admire it further, already imagining where it will sit on your arm.

“Yeah?” was all Sero could breathe out as he leaned in closer to you

“Mm-hmm” You nodded, finally turning your head to face him; watching as his eyes gazed at your lips, causing you to do the same “...h-how much will it be?”

You could feel your breath catching in your throat as Sero ignored your question, instead taking the opportunity to lean his face closer to yours; feeling his breath gently fan against your lips as you shut your eyes in anticipation; wanting nothing more than to feel what his kiss would be like.

“Sero, delivery is here!”

A gruff voice is what made you turn your head away; face scrunching in frustration over the unwanted interruption. You heard him sigh; feeling cold and a little disappointed when you felt his warmth pull away from you.

“Yeah… I’ll be right there Bakugou…” Sero spoke firmly, trying his best to keep his voice from sounding frustrated and annoyed as he looked back at his friend “Just finishing up here.”

Sero took another deep breath, one that turned into a loud sigh, over the now-ruined moment as he pulled the fox design from the pile of paper; taking a step away from you with a shake of his head.

“Don’t worry about paying, it’s on the house.” He gave a pained smile, slowly backing his way towards the backrooms, to where Bakugou was waiting “Just pick a day with Mina and we’ll go from there, ‘kay?”

You simply nodded your head, giving him a small smile and wave as you watched him disappear; taking the time to finally release the air you were holding as you clenched your fist in anger over your ruined kiss; at how perfect Bakugou’s timing was in all of it.

But after a moment, you couldn’t help but laugh; shaking your head in amusement as slowly made your way back to the front desk to book your appointment; knowing you had to get back to work soon and relieve your assistant.

~

It wasn’t long before the day of your tattoo arrived; the Saturday you booked it for came faster than anticipated, though the entire day felt like a year as you kept glancing at the clock to see how much time has passed, only to groan to yourself when it showed a mere 10-minutes.

Cataloging books did help with your dilemma, taking your mind off the many hours between you and seeing Sero again, as you continuously went up and down your little ladder to put the many returned books away. And before long, it was 9:00 pm, and you could flip your sign to ‘Closed’ and make your way across the street. 

You were surprised, given that the parlor was supposedly closed - or at the very least seeing their last clients at that point of the night - to see all the artists by the front desk chatting away; almost as if they were waiting for you to arrive.

“There you are!” Mina exclaimed, making her way from behind the desk over to where you stood, taking your jacket, and hanging it up for you “Thought you got cold feet on us!”

“Oh, I wouldn’t do that” You smiled, allowing her to complete her courteous gesture “And if I did cancel I would make sure you knew.”

“Are you excited!? First tattoos are always the most fun!”

“I am! Been looking forward to this all week!” 

“Oh, I’m sure you have~” Mina winked, “Now, let me introduce you to the other artist! Well, we’re all friends here but ya know.” She guided you over to where the three men stood, pointing first to a blonde with an unamused expression “You already met Bakugou last time you were here, I think you met Kaminari when he was at your store a few weeks back. And that giant redhead is Kirishima - he looks more scary than he is!”

 “It’s really nice to meet you!” Kirishima smiled, nudging Bakugou to acknowledge your presence - which he did in the form of a nod - before extending his hand out to you to shake “Heard a lot about you, been meaning to stop by your store for a while now. Apparently, you give good recommendations!”

“Oh, I do?” You asked, gingerly shaking his hand with a confused expression

“Of course you do, babe! Why else would Sero keep bugging you~” Kaminari jumped in, winking as he took your hand in his own and squeezed it “Nice to see you in our neck of the woods finally.”

“Okay okay! That’s enough, you guys!” Sero finally emerged, walking his way in between the group to disperse them; pulling Kaminari away from you to force him to let go of your hand “You should all be getting ready to leave, as you said you would!”

“Oh come on man! We just wanted to say hi to her!” Kaminari whined as he, and the rest of the group, were huddled towards to back of the place while you stood in place, fighting off a wave of giggles that were threatening to overcome you over the whole scene.

After a moment Sero returned, smoothing out his shirt as he tries his best to act as nonchalantly as possible; an act you could see right through given the blush that was dusting his cheeks but decided not to comment on.

“Sorry about all that, you ready to get started?” He asked, hand running through his hair nervously.

You hum in agreement, head nodding as you let him guide you back to his station; once there he motioned for you to get comfortable on the plush leather chair as he got his equipment ready.

 “Your friends are really nice,” You commented, tugging up the sleeve of your shirt for ease of access.

“Yeah, they are” Sero admitted, chuckling to himself “Pains in the ass half the time, but they mean well”

“Well, that’s how you know they love you” You chimed, sitting more upright as you watched him press an alcohol swab against your skin for a moment

“Guess you’re right.” He shrugged, holding up the stencil of your tattoo next to your arm “You want the tattoo here or a little lower?”

“No, there looks good! After all, you are the expert” You smiled, allowing him to press the paper against your skin; feeling him pressing down on it, before removing it to showcase the temporary art that was to forever be marked on your skin.

“Yeah that looks good,” He murmured, taking his tattoo machine in hand and dipping it in ink “Now, you let me know if this hurts, or becomes too unbearable okay?”

“Okay..” You bit your lip and nodded your head as you stared at the machine.

“Don’t worry, on arms you normally can’t feel anything” Sero reassured “ and I’ve got a steady hand which helps. All this just looks more scary than it is.”

“Like Kirishima”

“Yeah!” He laughed, shaking his head at your silly, but accurate, comment “Just like Kiri. Now, take a deep breath for me, kay?”

You nodded and did as you were told, taking a deep breath as his machine whirled to life; you watched with bated breath as it approached your skin, letting out a large sigh of relief when it finally touched you and no pain could be felt.

“See? Not so bad, yeah?” Sero smiled, slowly beginning to outline his design.

“Yeah…”

You didn’t converse much after that, not because you didn’t want to, but rather because you were blown away by Sero’s skills and concentration. You had never seen this side of him before. Normally he was goofy, animated, and fun, which you thought was endearing and cute; gave him his boyish charm. But now? As you watched his brows furrow and eyes look at you with such steely focus, you couldn’t help but find him extremely attractive. Choosing not to break the silence in fear of breaking his concentration, and thus this newfound allure, or embarrassing yourself.

Though he did make it difficult.

Throughout the entire session, every time he needed to shade something or thicken a line, he would always praise you after; claiming you were doing ‘such a good job’ for pushing through it; or for being called a ‘good girl’ when you took a needed deep breath at the right moment in time.

He said it so often that you can’t tell if he’s being reassuring or doing it to get a rise out of you; to tease you to see you get all hot and bothered.

Whatever the case was, it was affecting you way more than it should have; lighting a small fire deep within your core as you tried to rub your thighs together without him noticing to relieve some of the newfound pressure, as you suppressed all the small squeaks your wanted body wanted to let out every time another praise left his mouth.

It was agonizing torture in the best possible way; and when the session was finally done, when he was gently placing cellophane wrap over your fresh tattoo, you weren’t sure whether you were relieved or disappointed that it was all over.

“How much…” You gently cleared your throat, voice a little raspy over underuse “How much do I owe you again?”

“I already told you, babe,” Sero chuckled, carefully putting away his equipment “It’s on the house, my treat for you allowing me to borrow all those books.”

“You paid for those, Sero” You shot back, legs moving over the side of the chair as you leaned closer to him; showcasing your cleavage further from the lowcut hem of your shirt “I can’t just let you give me something like this for free - it’s not fair.”

“I told you, I like doing this.” He shrugged, ignoring you and your subsequent subtle attempts of seduction “More than happy to do this for you, think of it as a first-timer bonus!”

“There must be some way I can pay you back”

It was your tone that made Sero’s back straighten, clearing his throat he carefully placed what was in his hand down to turn and face you - breathing ceasing when he saw you sitting so pretty for him; the dark look in your eye making this cock twitch to life in his pants.

Sero couldn’t help it when his tongue poked out to lick his lips, unable to stop his eyes from trailing over your figure sitting before him; his own legs spreading further apart as he shifted a little closer to you; making you bite your lip. 

“How about finally going on that date with me?” He offered, hands twitching in his lap as he tried his best to restrain himself from touching you without permission.

“Payments happen immediately after a service…it wouldn’t be right paying you back days later, especially after you did such an amazing job” You reasoned, your voice barely above a whisper as you tilted your head up; brushing your nose against his “I prefer to pay you back now, kay?”

“Kay…” Sero barely even had the chance to whisper the word out before your lips pressed firmly into his; hands fisting into his shirt to keep him from pulling away.

As if Sero even wanted to move away, his own hands reaching out to pull you closer to him; closing any inch of space between him and your soft body. His hand cupped your face to deepen the long-awaited kiss that he dreamed about for weeks, as he slotted between your legs, groping and pinching the meat of your thigh as he hiked your leg up to wrap around his waist as he placed more of his weight onto you; groaning into your open when your clothed cunt brushed against his hardening length.

Your sweet, breathless, mewls were addicting and it made his mind dizzy with lust as his lips descended down your jaw and onto your neck; licking and sucking on the sensitive skin you so graciously barred to him, biting down on your pulse to hear you cry out his name into the heated air as he continued to grind his hips against yours.

His kisses continued downwards to your chest, pulling your shirt down - not bothering or wanting to take a mere moment to part from you to properly rid yourself of the article of clothing - before his lips began to suckle at the plump flesh his found; moaning into the heated flesh as he relished the way your hand began to tangle and tug at his hair.

It was all so much, and yet not enough for you; the fire that slowly emerged in your core was raging for me, not being fully satisfied with his sweet kisses or the grind of his hips. You needed more, been craving for more for hours, and you were starting to get a little impatient as you guided the hand pinching and stroking your thigh up to your core.

“Sero, please, touch me more,” You sighed out, legs widening to give him better access as held his hand against the damp cotton of your panties

“Hanta,” He corrected you, wringing his hand from your grasp to slowly stroke his knuckle up and down your slit “call me that, and I’ll do what you want, you needly little thing.”

“Hanta, please? Want you…” You whined, arching your back in an attempt to get more friction; unable to keep the smile off your face when you heard him groaning; clearly loving the way his name sounded off your needy tongue.

“That’s a good girl, hips up” He gently coaxed your lower half off the chair to pull your panties down your leg; pocketing them for later, before slowly guiding your legs to spead even wider for him “Already so wet after a few kisses, hm?” 

You looked away, face buried into his neck, the heat burning your cheeks in embarrassment over his teasing, as you nodded your head - unable to muster the courage to say the truth - as your heart fluttered over his rumbling chuckle.

“Aw, are we shy now?” He teased even more, deft fingers spreading your lower lips apart to gently stroke at your hardened clit “You weren’t shy a second ago when you asked me to play with this pretty pussy, want me to stop?”

He felt you shake your head, a sweet little whine accompanying the motion, as you continued to cling to him; your warm breath, coming out in pants, next to his ear made him slow his pace to one that could barely be considered movement.

“I dunno, it sure seems like you do” 

“N-no!” You mumbled, gripping his shirt tighter; biting your lip to suppress another whine threatening to escape. “Please don’t stop..”

“Then let me see that pretty face, hm,” He asked, tone still mirthful as he watched you slowly come out of your hiding spot “There you are, look at you, huh? All cute and flustered, you like what I’m doing that much?”

You nodded your head, once more, voice squeaking out a ‘yes’ as you felt his fingers resume a faster pace - swirling your bundle of nerves before slipping into your wet heat; your own hand coming down to grasp his forearm over the sudden intensity.

“That feels good, baby? You like my fingers?” Sero hummed, lips grazing your ear as he leaned closer to you, gazing down to watch his fingers go in and out of your drenched hole.

“God yes, Hanta!” You couldn’t help but cry out, throwing your head back, as you felt his fingers curl; stroking that sweet spot within your gummy walls that you made you see stars.

“Yeah you do,” He groaned, feeling your slick drip down his wrist as he repeated the motion “you wanted this, didn’t you? That’s why you wore that cute little skirt, huh?”

Sero watched you nod your head, though the blissed-out look on your face made him question if you even heard what he said as your hips began to wiggle, legs shaking as you neared your release.

“Can feel you twitching around my fingers, pretty girl, you gonna cum for me?” He asked, as his free hand pushed down your squirming hips “Hey, hey, don’t whine! I’ll give you what you want, promise”

His swollen lips brushed against your collarbone, a subtle gesture to prove he meant what he said - that he wasn’t going to tease you or stop you from going over the edge; his thumb twisting up to rub at your clit to help ease you over the edge you were climbing.

“That’s it, cum for me, god you sound so pretty, keep twitching for me.” He groaned, fingers working frantically as your cries grew higher in pitch.

Everything went white for a moment, an end to the mounting pleasure he was giving you, the world was forgotten for a brief moment as you succumbed to the pleasure; your back arched almost painfully as your legs clamped around his wrist; your entire form shaking from the intensity as eyes rolled back into your skull. The only thing that kept you in the realm was his deep voice cooing down at you as you felt your juices run down your thighs and stick to the surface of his leather chair.

“There she is…” He mumbled, lips kissing all over your face and chest to slowly help ease you back down “Slowly, that’s it, you did so good for me…”

“Hanta, s’too much!” You whined, bucking your hips away from his still-moving fingers; ones that were still slowly stroking your soaking cunt; hissing when he finally took them out.

“Sorry, sorry,” He chuckled, hands returning to stroke your thighs and hips as he gazed down at you “You certainly know how to stroke a man’s ego, huh? Never had a girl do that from my touch.”

You groaned one that turned into a giggle, as your hands came up to your face to hide from another wave of heated embarrassment “Well, to be fair, never had a guy touch me like that. Can’t blame a girl for enjoying it!”

“No I can’t, glad you liked it so much, baby” He murmured, pulling your hands from your face to kiss you once more, murmuring sweet nothing to you between each small kiss as his hands wandered again, up and down your body, smiling into the kiss when he felt your hands do the same.

“A-ah!” Sero moaned, unable to stop his hips from bucking to your small hand that started to stroke at the large bulge in his pants; another one choking out, ending in a whimper, when you applied more pressure.

“Can I return the favour?” You asked, voice sounding so saccharine and confident that it made his head spin at the total 180 you just pulled with your demeanor.

“N-no,” He whimpered out, hand grasping at your wrist - just as yours did before - to stop you from continuing your sinful motions.

“Why not?” You whined, the pout you gave almost made him regret his choice, “Wanna make you feel good…”

“I know you do, but I won’t be able to last long if you keep that up” He reasoned, clasping your hands in his to bring them away from his twitching, aching cock.

“What’s wrong with that?”

“God, you’re too much…” He mumbled, head shaking in amusement as he cleared his throat, trying his best not to let you get the best of him as he watched you squirm.

Your pout was still prevalent on your swollen lips as you gazed up at him, calling out to him once more in that saccharine sweet voice “But I wanna make you cum.”

Sero couldn’t help but groan again, head turning away from you as he thought of anything else at that moment - things that made him cringe in his past - to try and stop himself from creaming in his pants like a teenager. With his voice strained, hoarse with effort, as he instructed you to lay back.

You do as you are told, heat in your belly igniting once more when you hear the clinking of his belt unbuckling; bending your legs up, to get betting frictions on your tingling nub, as you waited as patiently as you could for his return.

The chair groaned, squeaking slightly, at the added weight Sero provided, as he situated himself between your legs once more. You gasped, one that turned into a moan, when you felt his cock head tap at your entrance; his hard length sliding up and down your slit - teasing you as he coats himself in your juices.

“Hanta…!” You groan out, hips bucking to try and slip him inside; groaning once more in frustration when you feel his hands pin your hips down once more “Hurry up!”

“So impatient, naughty, naughty, naughty ” He clicks his tongue at you, chuckling at the frustrated glance you cast his way “Just give me a second, don’t wanna hurt you after all”

You huff, brows furrowing further as acquiesced; knowing thing it was for the better to have him take things slow - but the burning in your core was making it difficult for you to have a clear and level head; wanting nothing more to feel him fill you up.

After another agonizing minute, you slowly feel him sink into your heat; feeling his fat cock stretch you out so agonizingly slow that it makes you throw your head back and moan; mouth agape as you feel every inch bury itself deeper into your core.

“God, you’re tight!” Sero hisses, body taut as he holds himself above you as he continued pushing into you “Already milking me, baby, damn!”

You both groan when he finally bottoms out, breathing labored as they mingle together in-between tiny kisses as you both try to adjust; legs wrapping around his hips, pulling him down to you, as he begins his slowly thrusting into you.

His thrusts were almost teasing with how slowly he was moving, dragging his cock out languidly from your gummy walls before slowly returning back into your warmth - but they were precise, with each thrust hitting every sweet spot you had; making your eyes cross as you fell into the throws of pleasure over his slow lovemaking.

Over time though, Sero could not keep up the unhurried pace; what was once a tactic to ensure that he didn’t cum too early, to properly worship you and your perfect body, was now not enough - his body needed more. His lips attached to yours, kisses muffling the sweet moans that you were making as he slowly picks up his pace; thrusts turning sloppy and hurried, a fair cry from before, as Sero now becomes unable to hold off his own pleasure; frantically trying to chase his release.

The sloppy, wet, noises of your pussy could be heard over your constant moans, over the  sound of his skin slapping against yours, and it was becoming overwhelming - his thumb joining his frenzied hips as he rubbed at your clit; trying desperately to get you up and over that edge before him, to feel your walls flutter and clasp his weeping cock as it did his fingers before he spilled into you.

But he failed, your wanton moans as they called out his name, and the sharp sting of your nails and they dug into his back pushed him too far; quickly pulling out with a choked wail he came; spilling his hot seed all over your thighs and stomach.

“I-I’m sorry” he gasped, trying to regain his breath - body, and cock, still twitching over the intensity of his organism; leaving you for a brief moment to get a clean rag from his equipment table to clean you up.

“Why are you sorry?” You asked, voice still raspy and sore, as you watched him methodically clean you up.

“Well, you know, about getting you all messy. And…. yeah…” He mumbled, shrugging his shoulders, too embarrassed to look at you or saw the real reason he apologized.

It made you smile, though you did your best to contain the giggles that threaten to pass your lips as you watched him. Sitting up, you pushed the hand that was cleaning you away, pulling him back down into you for a kiss.

“It’s okay, I don’t mind getting messy. Part of the fun, right?” You giggled, nudging your nose with his trying to lighten the mood; effectively making a small smile tug at his lips as he returned your kiss.

“Besides…” you whispered, hands coming down to teasingly stroke his chest “My place isn’t too far from here. If you wanted, you could spend all night making it up to me”

“Aren’t you a naughty girl,” Sero smirked, hands grabbing the meat under your thighs as he picked you up from his chair; moving your legs to wrap around his hips to keep you upright and in place “But, I think my place is closer.”

[melminli]

Dirty Cash (Money Talks)

summary - you had nothing against your colleague, but you weren't stupid enough to be fooled by his innocent smile and appearance since you knew exactly what kind of corrupt person was hiding behind that costume. after all, you were wearing the same one.

pairing: (gong yoo/ji-cheol) the salesman x fem. recruiter reader

word count: 1.4k

contains: talk about gambling + death and murder, sexual tension?, crack and just evil morals tbh

a/n: i watched maybe the first fifteen minutes or so of bullet train, but i thought of the two funny dudes from it while writing this bcuz their dynamic was funny af. also, i will use the actor's name in this fic since the character itself doesn't really have an official one that was mentioned in the series!

You straightened your tie with your free hand while watching your train approach from the side. The station was always pretty empty at this hour, which saved you the jostling and squeezing as you entered. After that, you sat down comfortably with a light sigh - next to the free seat beside your devilishly handsome colleague. “Are you alright? Don't tell me that you had a exhausting day?” he asked you worriedly with his typical innocent smile on his face but you've known the guy for a while now and you knew exactly how dishonest he sounded right now.

You returned his gaze for a second, uninterested, before turning it back in front of you to observe your surroundings from the window. “Exhausting day? Don't make fun of me or I'll punch you in the face,” you replied monotone and Gong Yoo didn't doubt your statement for a second - or Ji-cheol as you preferred to call him since you weren't a big fan of nicknames. “I had a great time punching those bastards in the face one by one. It feels kinda therapeutic, so I'm actually feeling pretty good right now,” you told him, talking about the subject as if you were talking about the weather.

Your colleague grunted with delight at your good news. “And I would never disagree with you on that.” he said and then just watched your figure silently for a while before speaking up again. “Since you're in such a good mood, would you be willing to play a more private game between the two of us?” he suggested, making you look at him in utter disbelief.

“A private game? With you?” you repeated, amused and laughed in his face. “Hell, no. But don't worry, I'll let you know next time I want to get totally screwed by a freaky pervert,” you added, your voice dripping with sarcasm. Which will be, never.

“Come on, don't be like that,” he asked you sweetly. As sweet as the wolf who pretended to be the mother of the seven little goats before he ate them all one by one. “It's just a tiny, harmless game. It's been so long since we've played anything together.” he complained to you earnestly as if you actually cared, and you didn't.

Yeah, you remembered the last time very clearly, even if you would much rather prefer that you didn't. You hummed. “Is that so? Huh. I mean, it could be because you almost killed me in a fucking game of tic-tac-toe the last time, but that's just a theory.” You said with a shrug, clearly still resenting him for that. However, he just rolled his eyes unaffected by your grudge. “But you didn't, right? It was the other guy who got the bullet in his head.” He replied, not even remembering his name. Not that he had to.

You just glared at him while you rubbed your forehead. “Yeah, maybe. But I'm tired of risking my life just because it makes you horny and you can jerk off to it.” You made your feelings on the matter clear. “You know that the whole living on the edge of death thing isn't really my cup of tea. At least try to understand me a bit here, too.”

I suppose she's not entirely wrong, I could give it a try. I never thought about it like that before, did I? He thought to himself in his head as he ran his tongue over the back of his teeth while he pondered. How selfish of me. “So what exactly do I have to do, to convince you?” He asked you while he already had a few ideas in mind.

You grinned. “You know that very well, don't play dumb.” You demanded as you leaned closer to him so that he could hear what you were singing softly. “Money talks, money talks - dirty cash, I want you, and dirty cash, I need you, oh ~”

He raised an eyebrow, not particularly surprised. “So you want to play for money?” He repeated it, not outright rejecting your request. “Don't you have enough of that already? You're really insatiable when it comes to cash and now you want mine, too?” he joked just to get you worked up.

Though, you didn't get the slightest bit offended by what he said. “Can you ever have enough money? Besides, I'm not forcing you to give it to me, am I?” you said with a smile, already knowing that he would agree to your terms. “But if you want me to play with you, I want eight million won for every round I win.”

She's so greedy for someone who is already more than wealthy. “Aren't you exaggerating a bit? Most people don't earn that much in a month,” he continued his act of - whatever this was - because he just loved arguing with you.

“So? We both have the same salary, I know you can afford it,” you said, holding a hand in the air as soon as you felt that he wanted to stretch this unnecessary conversation even more. “You have to decide now what you want to do or I withdraw my proposal again.”

Gong Yoo closed his mouth and started grinning even wider. “You don't even want to know what kind of game I want to play?” he asked curiously, nodding and accepting whatever you wanted as soon as he saw that you actually weren't interested. You couldn't even imagine how gladly he gave in to you at this moment. “All right, I agree with your request.”

You stood up with your briefcase in hand after your station was announced. “Good. Text me when you have something in mind, I'll be there as long as it fits timewise.”

Your colleague continued to watch you with a look on his face that used to make you more than just uncomfortable back in the day - though, it didn't even bother you in the slightest now. “You don't want to accompany me to the...office?”

You smiled while the train started to slow down. “Au revoir, Ji-cheol.” you just said your goodbye to him and stepped out of the doors. You didn't even spare the poor guy a second glance when he waved his hand at you from the window. She can be so heartless sometimes, he thought to himself, even if you were like this pretty much all the time. I'll have to think of something good to ask for in return should I win. I'm definitely not going to hold back when there's this much money at stake.

You didn't give a second thought to anything as you made your way home after a day's work like any normal citizen would do. However, your steps slowed considerably when you noticed a beggar in your field of vision and even though the rest of the crowd ignored the man and his entire existence, you couldn't help but focus your full attention on him. You looked at your watch, I've been off work for a while now. But even then, you couldn't help but notice that he was one of the people on your list to recruit for the game. He'll still be here tomorrow, but I don't mind another round of Ddakji. I love money more than anything - but I'm not doing this job for only that.

“Excuse me,” you spoke to the man with a polite smile on your face, and he only submissively avoided your gaze as he listened to you. After all, one rarely approached people like him and why would they? He held his cup of loose change out in front of him, probably expecting you to give him a small donation, but you wanted to give him so much more than that. Even if the guy didn't know it right now - you wanted to give him another chance in life, so that he wouldn't continue to be just a miserable failure.

You ignored his donation cup. “I was wondering if you might have a moment because I'd like to make you an offer,” you continued politely and the man met your gaze at that. Yeah, you were really looking forward to what was about to happen - after all, you were known for letting your opponent only win if you allowed them to.

[atypicalsouda]

I hate when I really enjoy a DR blog for a long time but then suddenly they post something either regarding Kaz or Fuyu (it’s usually Kaz) that I react so fucking viscerally to that I decide it’s best to forget about and block them so it doesn’t happen again.

But at the same time it makes me so sad. It’s nothing personal to the blog itself it’s me and my ever growing bond with my f/os. It’s slowly becoming more and more difficult for me to ignore things that only slightly offend me. Like for example, there’s only a single blog(if ya try you can probs guess who) I follow that I can tolerate Kuzuhina now. Every other blog about that ship that I’ve come across I’ve blocked and will continue to block.