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celestiaras · 3 days ago

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‧₊˚✧ ❛[ bring your baby downtown (go cheerleader!) ]❜

━━━ .°˖✧ requested by anonymous ˚₊ ⊹

ft. rumi (+ jinu) x f! reader — kpop demon hunters

╰₊✧ fans think you and jinu are together, and rumi is not happy about it┊1.6k words

contains: jealousy, crazy fans, hard-launching a relationship

➤ author's note: ahhh i feel like i could have executed this better and also it's a little off prompt so sorry T-T (happy last day of pride month homophobia doesn’t exist here)

“i just don’t get why fans are shipping them!” rumi shouted in frustration as she delivered a strong kick to the face of the demon. “they sit next to each other at one event to follow the seating chart, and all of a sudden, they’re the next kpop ‘it’ couple— what’s the logic behind that?!”

“okay, but are fans really shipping them together, or did you just see someone on twitter say they would look cute together? there’s a difference.”

“no, like people are really shipping them together! they have an official ship name and everything— there’s like a thousand edits of them to love songs on tiktok and like… a couple dozen fics of them on ao3…”

“god damn it!”

perhaps having this discussion while fighting underworld creatures wasn’t the best idea, being both the wrong time and place, but the vocalist needed to get this off her chest once she found out about it. it was so preposterous and wrong in her mind that she had to do a triple take before it really sunk in what she was reading.

it’s been exactly one week since that day when you met the black-haired leader of the saja boys at an event, only interacting because you both were following the seating charts and happened to be placed next to each other. there was nothing special or different about it compared to when you’re talking to other celebrities, yet in some way that she couldn’t even fathom, people started thinking that both of you would make the cutest pairing.

she was at the event as well, but couldn’t quite see what the two of you were up to from a distance aside from being friendly. when the footage came out in a better quality than her eyesight, she rewatched the footage over and over again, watching like a hawk at all the little microexpressions and doing her best to read your lips to figure out where this assumed chemistry originated from, but she came to the conclusion that it just doesn’t exist and that the fans were being straight up delusional.

that man has been the bane of her existence in every way possible ever since he entered her life. first he tries to steal her fans with his industry plant boy group, then he tries to blackmail her with her biggest secret, and now he’s trying to steal away her girlfriend! she brings up the topic incessantly every time they have their secret meetings, and no matter what he swears or how often he plays innocent, she doesn’t believe for a second that he doesn’t also have feelings for you. it’s all in the little things, how he stutters and blushes red at the mention of you and how fans thought you two were the cutest— god, she hates him!

“you do realize that people think you’re jealous of her and not him, right? they noticed you staring at them the entire time the awards were being given out and think you’re all in some sort of love triangle.”

“why would they even think that? i don’t even like jinu on a base level! he’s a demon who’s clearly trying to take advantage of our unsuspecting fans— how do people think that i’m into him instead of her?! i thought it was obvious i liked girls— my instagram profile picture literally shows me wearing eyeliner in the colors of the bi flag!”

“either way, you can’t really change what the fans think. don’t let it get to you too much, she would never pick him over you.”

mira was right. you can’t be stolen away when you didn’t have an ounce of romantic interest in him and had your heart set on her, but she still can’t help but fume like a steaming kettle every time she goes on her phone to find her entire ‘for you’ page covered photos (both real and edited) of that stupid demon next to her girlfriend with hearts in the captions.

the worst part is that you didn’t have the foggiest idea what was going on. as one of the most well-known soloists in the hemisphere, you preferred to stay away from social media and possible hate comments or crazy fans that would impact your mental health. your management took care of your social media and promotions as well as informing you about public perception, so you were fortunate enough to be able to focus on yourself, your songwriting, practicing choreography, and spending time with rumi.

rumi, who has been acting a little strange over the past few days. she thought you wouldn’t have noticed because you were busy with the debut of a new single, but you certainly did and was confused about her sudden change in behavior. she’s more clingy and possessive, yet refuses to admit that there was something bothering her. mira and zoey also wouldn’t tell you anything, but judging by their hesitance, you suspected that she had told them not to say anything either.

with the lack of mutual friends who knew about your very private relationship, you somehow ended up meeting with jinu for coffee. you aren’t exactly sure if she let it slip to him or if he managed to figure it out on his own, but either way, he knew about it and offered an outsider's perspective on what you could do about the situation.

little did you know, even though you both were wearing sunglasses and hoodies, there was someone who recognized you and snapped a candid photo of you two entering the cafe together. it’s only a casual outing between friends without a hint of anything romantic to get advice for your actual relationship, people took the picture and ran with it, coming up with their outlandish speculations of it being a date and believing that your latest song about finding true love was dedicated to him.

that was the final straw for rumi, and she soon hatched a plan on how to hard-launch your relationship in a way that left no room for interpretation. there wasn’t going to be any ‘close friends’ or ‘sisters’ theories with this, they were going to know. normally, she prefers to keep these things private, but she refused to have fans misled about who you were really linked to.

“are you sure this is a good idea? it’s gonna put everyone in a frenzy.”

“right? like this is gonna be in the history books!”

“i’m sure, it’s gonna be perfect.”

this plan was bold and possibly a bit irrational, but she knew it would work out perfectly in the end. it didn’t take too long to think of, all it needed was a single action and a ton of confidence, and the perfect setting to execute it was at one of the up-and-coming annual award ceremonies for the best musicians in the nation where you were going to be announcing the winners and nominees.

she was more nervous about this secret plan than anything, evident in how she was constantly fiddling with the hem of her dress and how her posture wasn’t as completely straight as it usually was. it made the usual jitters from all the flashing cameras and mini-interviews by photographers seem like child’s play, so she was very grateful towards mira and zoey for letting her lean on them.

out of the corner of her eye, she could see you socializing with the others in a gorgeous satin midi dress, being absolutely dazzling with that smile of yours that attracted everyone to you like bees to honey. everyone including those damn saja boys, particularly jinu who had all the cameras flashing blindingly whenever he got too close to you. the sight made her bite the inside of her cheek and pout, but she wouldn’t let it bother her even though the thought of it was pissing her off during the entire duration of the event. she’s going to keep her cool this time, and no one would be able to study her reactions and make assumptions about what she was thinking when the live recording is eventually uploaded.

“and this year’s winner for ‘artist of the year’ goes to…” you paused dramatically for special effect, opening the golden envelope to peek inside. there wasn’t a doubt in your mind who it would be, and you couldn’t help the feeling of pride that bloomed in your heart, “rumi, zoey, and mira of huntrix!”

the crowd let out a round of applause as the trio joined you on the stage, zoey doing a little skip and dance to she received the award before doing their touching minute-long speech of a lot of thanks and gratitude to their fans and those who have helped them along the way.

as rumi stepped away from the center, she took a deep breath, and instead of stepping off like she was supposed to, she pulled you in for a kiss on the lips before drawing in close to use the microphone attached to your headset, “she’s my girlfriend, by the way!”

a simple statement and a kiss, nothing too passionate, just something small and tender, but the entire audience gasped in surprise before erupting in chaos (the good kind of chaos, the one with cheering and people screaming various things in support).

you were clearly confused and laughed, “of course, i am, who else’s girlfriend would i be?”

“you’re so chronically offline, i’ll tell you about it later.”

the news was like wildfire for the next few days while you both stayed away from the public eye to let it die down. most fans had jumped off the ship of you and jinu and were happily boarding the one of you and rumi, letting it sail at full speed and pouring in all of their support of your newly revealed relationship as you both quickly took the crown as kpop’s newest ‘it’ couple.

request:

May I PUHLEASE request a Jealous!Rumi x Fem!Soloist!Reader? The reader is a well-known soloist who somehow was being shipped with Jinu despite having absolutely no interaction with him at all. And of course, Rumi starts acting up, showing subtle hostility towards Jinu for another reason other than because he's a demon who clearly means harm upon their beloved fans. Mira and Zoey, along with their many fans starts to think that it was because she was jealous of the reader. But what they don't know is behind those empty stares lies hidden affection which they only lay bare when they're alone. They've been in a secret relationship for a few years now, and they've hidden it well. But after the rumors that started about the reader and Jinu where they were supposedly seen having a romantic date, and another rumor that stated that the reader's latest song was dedicated to Jinu, Rumi finally decided to take matters into her own hands. So during an awarding where idols were to gather on stage, after receiving their award, Rumi immediately marches up to the reader, and in front of everyone, she pulls her into a searing kiss then walks away like she hadn't just staked her claim and smudged the reader's perfectly applied lipstick. It ends with the reader jokingly and shyly apologizing with: "Forgive my girlfriend's behavior. It's her way of throwing a tantrum." (I apologize if this too damn long, I wanted it to be detailed for you🥲)

#📜. her works #rumi #rumi x reader #rumi kpop demon hunters #rumi kpop demon hunters x reader #kpop demon hunters #kpop demon hunters x reader #huntrix #huntrix x reader

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roscgcld · 3 months ago

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HEADCANONS + GOJO SATORU || first born child

request: The gojo hcs of announcing the pregnancy is so cute! Can we get a part 2 when the pregnancy hormones are starting to kick in and they have mood swings? Oohh or maybe when the wife goes into labor? Ty❣❣

note: i like this idea a lot - it kinda made me feel all warm and happy inside c: like honestly, i love it so much haha.

pronouns: she/her

original headcanon | gojo satoru masterlist | buy me a coffee?

announcing a pregnancy is always fun, especially when you are looking forward to starting your own family with someone you love

you and gojo were no different - you two were excited to start this new chapter in your lives together, and to the day you get to hold your baby in your arms

but every journey starts with a simple step; and you two, unknowingly, are in for one hell of a ride

the first thing you developed was morning sickness. thankfully you didn’t wake up every morning throwing your guts out - but you do suffer from severe nausea just smelling certain things

this has cause quite a bit of stress, since on some days you would gag at the smell of rain hitting the ground or the smell of your favourite tea; but other days you’re fine and you instead get sick because of something else

it causes gojo huge amounts of stress, constantly worrying about what smells may trigger your nausea, or worried that you may just vomit on him randomly

thankfully that didn’t last for your entire pregnancy - but what was once nausea from the smell of tea led to you developing a more emotional response to everything around you

something as simple as dropping your phone on the floor, or you realising that you no longer fit in your favourite shoes would bring tears to yours eyes as you try to hold back the sniffles from your doting husband

and that was the worse for gojo; he was naturally a very dramatic person. so he is used to him being the more emotional one while you handle whatever temper tantrum he throws with a fond smile on your face

however now it is different. now he finds himself having to rush over to your side to comfort you; reassuring you that everything was alright and that he was there for you if you want to rant

and sometimes he was the reason for your tears - it wouldn’t be the first time where you would turn your tearful death glare at your husband and throw him through a loop of why you were angry with him all of a sudden

this also throws him for a loop whenever you have certain cravings - and for some reason, one of your biggest cravings whilst pregnant was curry

not just any curry - the specific chicken curry that is made by the old man down the street that only opens in the mornings and always have people lining up for a serving of his food

this is the one thing that gojo did excel in though - due to his terrible sleeping schedule, he would be the first one to show up at the store; greeting the elderly man with a smile and even helping him move the heavier tins of curry onto his stall

on the outside looking in, it seemed that gojo was just that good of a husband, wanting to make sure that his wife would get her cravings whenever she wants to. this good faith extended to the owner; who happily served him a much bigger portion than usual and even through him some fried veggie tempura for free

gojo had no heart to tell him that he really does do it just so he can rush back to you with the curry as soon as possible; but he does leave the older man with an extra tip, and bring him the odd gift of gensing powders and herbal teas on your request

and weirdly enough you crave nanami’s chocolate chip cookies - and while nanami would have baked them for you regardless since you begged him once over the phone, he loves the fact that the gojo satoru is begging him every week to bake cookies for you

it makes nanami feel that extra sense of smugness that he rarely gets. plus, the thought that the strongest sorcerer in the world being so tightly wrapped around your finger is a nice change

gojo have almost burnt down the college when he found out that the higher ups were close to sending you on a mission - he all but forced their hands to make sure you were given teaching jobs and nothing more

even then, if you have a terrible bout of morning sickness or even just slightly tired, you were not allowed to leave your bed at all - let ypur beloved husband cover for you

he hires the best of the best for your nursery as well - not only does he have handmade bassinets and other accessories passed down between your families adorning the room, he commissioned personalised murals on the walls, a room decorator to personally decorate the room with both of your ideas in mind, and has already filled the entire closet with toys and plushies for your unborn child

gojo does not really care for the gender. whatever you two have, he will be elated. but i think deep down he wants a little girl that he can spoil rotten

already has a bank account and college fund for your child - no child or children of his are not going to be spoilt

you went into labour in the middle of the night. you were chilling after you woke up realising your water broke - turning over to satoru who was on his phone in the middle of the night with a groggy “honey, i think my water just broke..”

poor man with out of bed in seconds, zooming around to pack your diaper bag as you awkwardly got up and waddled to the bathroom so you didn’t continue leaking down your thigh

after changing and drying up, you continued to waddle around to get ready; ignoring gojo trying to get you to sit down as he tries to not break into a panic attack

“relax babe, i don’t have contractions yet. the hospital would make us go home and wait anyways.”

“with all due respect honey, i will believe that when the doctor tells me that.”

almost scares the driver from how desperate his phone call was; the man giving you a stressed but understanding smile when you apologised for scaring him awake at this hour

you checked into the hospital, and it took 2 nurses and a doctor to reassure him you were fine - which you were, laying on the bed wincing randomly as you texted your parents about the potential arrival of their grandbaby

was so frantic that your doctor was debating on giving him the sedative so he doesn’t work himself into a heart attack. but you waved the woman’s concern away with a tired sigh as you sat on the yoga ball, bouncing on it mindlessly with a nurse by your side

“leave him, he’s like a kid. he’ll tire himself eventually.”

when your contractions started to become more frequent and your team was preparing for the birth, gojo was beside himself in fear; but seeing you in so much pain had him focusing all his energy on you

wiping your sweat away, letting you squeeze his hand tightly as he reassures you that you were doing so well

when your doctor informed you to start pushing, gojo felt his heart hurt at how much pain you were in; reassuring you the best he can, letting you scream at him for putting you through this with nothing more but a scared smile frozen on his face

after a few hours of active pushing and screaming, your little girl was welcomed into the world. gojo was in tears when he cut the umbilical cord, and was full on sobbing when your crying daughter was placed on your panting chest

was immediately smitten the moment she opened her eyes at you guys; fluttering her lashes as she squints up at the lights around her

he had managed to stop his tears when she was taken away to be cleaned up, cupping your face and kissing all over your cheeks as he whispers sweet nothings and thanks for bringing your daughter into the world

started crying all over again when the nurses asked if he wanted to do some skin-to-skin time with her; his hands shaking as he follows the instructions of the nurse to hold her correctly

you just smiled at them from your bed, watching how gojo seems to just fall in love with your little girl as she stares up at her father curiously

“she’s probably confused why her dad has white hair.”

“...i mean, i am a dilf now.”

you almost tossed him out of your hospital room then and there for his joke, but you just gave him a half assed nasty look as you closed your eyes to rest again

you’ll let him get away with this one this one time

wanna read more? > gojo satoru masterlist | buy me a coffee?

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teaboot · 6 months ago

Note

Growing up, how was your relationship with the fundamentals of conscious existence?

My earliest memory of what I would call self-awareness occurred spontaneously in the middle of my fourth birthday party, where I suddenly became alert to my existence as a separate entity surrounded by other conscious beings.

This presented to me as not dissimilar to simply being brushed along the flow of a river- experiencing life as a serious of flashbang moments and instants and sensations, like meditating to music until the individual notes break into sounds that follow no rhythm and are only noise- no past or future, only now- and then suddenly finding yourself holding a paddle in the belly of a boat with no idea what to do next.

I remember running to the body that felt safest, who I did not recognize as anything else, and asking it who all the strangers around us were. The person that I learned was my mother told me they were my aunties and uncles, and I was being silly because I KNEW them, and why was I so shy all of a sudden?

Learning to articulate myself after that instant, I remember, was immensely frustrating. Learning your first language, as I remember it, is wuite a bit like how Ive been told recovering from brain damage feels like.

YOU know what you mean. YOU know what you're saying. But there are holes where you reach for something you know MUST be there and find nothing, and must find a way to communicate using only what you have at hand. Except there are always faces looking at you, talking down to you, asking you to do tricks for them to prove you really are a real human person.

I loved art, and I'm very good at it, but GETTING good at it was the worst. I'm told I started with scribbles at six months or so, before I could walk, and at three and four I remember being immensely frustrated that I could see in my head exactly what I wanted to produce, and I didn't know how to PRODUCE it.

And simple shit, like drawing shapes and circles, developing fine motor skills. You FULLY UNDERSTAND THE ASSIGNMENT, but your hands are soft and wobbly and don't cooperate. Getting your mouth and body to obey your directions is hellish, especially when all the appliances and furniture and installations around you are built for someone easily triple your size.

Chairs are hard to sit in when you're small and cant touch the ground. Your legs dangle and you cant scoot closer to the table, and the backrest is so far back you cant use it for support, and the table comes up past your chest so your chin is amost in your plate and your dumb clumsy hands cant hold a big spoon or fork in a way that feels natural or elegant so you end up smearing shit EVERYWHERE and getting yapped at for having your elbows on the counter.

Reading people was interesting. Most people are condescending and plastic when you're small, and you can tell when they're being saccharine and fake, but you're told the polite thing is to believe what they say and be polite back. I used to try using big sentences on purpose just to het them to leave me alone. "What a pretty girl! Can you say Hello?" was the most common ask I can recall. Id answer with the floweriest thing I could think of, usually, "I'm very well, thank you for asking, how are you?", because people only ask you interesting questions after you do well enough on their tests to prove you're people.

Being small was very tiring, and very frustrating, and becoming aware of myself in my own head probably made everything a lot worse overall.

No regrets, though. From what I can recall, life is far more enjoyable when you're aware of it occurring. Time can't slow down until you know it's there, I think

Being a baby full of instincts felt like living as a live grenade. Being a child was far harder, but more Full. More Human. A LOT more like adulthood than infancy, and I was very determined to remember that.

If any of that makes sense

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aninipanin1 · 5 months ago

Note

How about Young manager with ADHD (continuously gets lost within Blue Lock, interrupts Ego using the PA system (accidentally) about trivial things, misplaces objects, rather naive etc),,, lol

LOST SHEEP

Notes: I personally do not have ADHD and my knowledge about it is quite small, so please forgive me if I misrepresent it here! I do not have any intentions of doing so, and if I do make some mistakes, please let me know! I am genuinely interested in being much more knowledgeable about this topic. Thank you!

"Y/n-chan...? What are you doing there..?"

Hiori asked, blinking at the rather bizarre scene in front of him. The midfielder just finished his daily training routines when he stepped inside of the laundry room to place his laundry basket.

But when he did walk in, he found their precious manager crouched down, hugging your legs as your eyes focused intensely at the small window of the washing machine, eyes boring at the spinning clothes inside the contraption.

In fact, you were too focused to even notice or hear the music of the other machines that alerted the room about how the process was done. You were just sitting there, staring, eyes blinking rarely, as if the rotation of the washing machine was a rare circus show to your eyes.

Everyone in the facility knew of your...tendencies and are more than understanding and ready to help you return your attention to whatever you were currently doing. Hiori was no different as he approached your crouched figure and lightly held your shoulder to take your attention back, but he made sure to be gentle enough to not scare you.

"Y/n-chan, earth to Y/n-chan. Are you okay?" He said in the softest voice he can muster, his hands supporting your crouched figure that almost lost its balance. You looked a bit dazed still from your previous episode, blinking at the sudden interruption. Turning to the blue-haired player, you tilted your head.

"Hiori-kun? What are we doing here...? What's happening?"

"Everything is fine, Y/n-chan. You just got a bit distracted with the washing machine." He explained, raising one of his hands to your hair, softly patting it in a comforting manner. He guided you up from your position and helped with the laundry that had long been done.

"Oh, I didnt notice that the rest were done..." you said in realization, looking at the washing machine with wide eyes. Hiori, who could not help himself, pinched one of your cheeks.

"Its fine, let's just get the rest of the laundry and hang it up, yeah?"

'Geez, she's too cute to be even real...' he inwardly gushed.

"What do you mean you can't find her?" Ego said, glaring at a worried Anri the moment he received the news. Apparently, you have been missing for more than an hour now, with no one from any stratum knowing where you were or even seeing you pass by.

"I'm a little worried. We all know how she gets when she's super distracted."

Ego sighed, rubbing his temple and not even adjusting his glasses that fell off the bridge of his nose. Out of everyone in there, he knew, especially how you can get. Being the one you always worked alongside with, there were times when you would be too focused on something trivial like a moving object or a rather miniscule detail that you would end up forgetting everything you were currently and supposed to be doing.

Now, most of the time, he encourages this. Ego cannot count how many times you ended up helping him and the players as a whole because your fixations on even the most minute of details always ended up being the root cause of a problem.

Hence, why, starting then, he always trusted your mini hyperfixations, no matter how dumb it may sound. You were naive, yes, but you are also a genius, something most people around you know of. So, early on, Ego trusted these said instincts and fixations and revolving them into something that would benefit everybody.

However, there are times like these where those hyperfixations end up disadvantageous. Somehow, you always get lost in the worst times in the worst places possible. Once, the whole facility literally had to work together in order to find you, only for Niko to find you crawling around the storage room near the cafeteria, chasing a ladybug that got your attention while you tried to find your way around the facility again.

There was no time for that kind of thing, however, seeing as to how the day after tomorrow was the last games for the Neo Egoist League, and the staff desperately needed to arrange everything and anything under the sun to make sure the games and livestream are all smooth sailing.

And, they definitely needed you, the overall manager of the teams, there.

"What do we do, Ego-san?"

"I'll look around in my cameras. Try to find her in the usual spot and rooms she crawls and runs on, or those rooms that have a lot of things she can fidget with." He sighed, feeling so done with everything that happened that day.

"Okay. I'll ask help from the rest of the staff."

Just as they were about to start looking for you though, the PA system was suspiciously turned on.

"Huh? It's not even 12 in the noon yet."

Anri said, confused, but all their questioning were answered when they heard the loud feedback of the mic before hearing small scratches and fidgeting noises in the mix. There were even times when they heard some buttons being pushed about. Ego sighed again, but it felt more like a breath of relief.

"That's her. Get that problem child and bring her here." Ego said, spinning his chair to face the cameras. And would you know it, when he went back through the CCTV cameras' previous footages, he saw you in the PA room, fidgeting with the buttons of the system. If he were to be honest, he felt a huge sigh of relief that you were not doing anything that may have harmed you of sort.

After a few minutes, Anri opened the door to his office but alongside her was Don Lorenzo who was smirking as he held you by the scruff of your jacket. Carrying you like a lost kitten, while you only blinked at the predicament you were in, constantly asking Anri about what you were supposed to do again and just babbling stories to Lorenzo and Anri.

"The lost sheep is here." He said, bringing you on the ground as carefully as he could, nodding along to whatever you said about how microphones actually worked and how you were just curious and wanted to experiment if your knowledge and hypothesis were actually real or whatever your mind was thinking about currently.

"Y/n." Ego said a bit sternly, making you stop talking as you looked at the man.

"Try to bring someone with you when you go on your little adventures sometimes." He said before turning his swivel chair once again to face the many monitors, turning his back to you.

"Okay, Ego-san!" You cheered happily, not even bothered about what had just transpired as you went back to your notebook to continue writing and working.

'This girl is going to be the death of me. This is why I don't want kids.' Ego thought, shaking his head.

"Rin-kun. Have you seen Mr. Boba?"

"Hah?"

Rin said, his usual frown in his face. But, this was more of a frown of confusion. He knew you had the habit of naming normal objects with names you found either fitting or adorable, by your standards of course. So, when you approached the striker about a supposed 'Mr. Boba,' he had no idea what the hell you were even looking for.

"Mr. Boba! He has tons of dots that's why he's Mr. Boba." You insisted, your face in a frown because you can't find what you were looking for at all and it was starting to thin your patience a bit.

"Look, I don't know what your Mr. Boba is. What even is it? Is it a hairpin of a boba, or a keychain?" Rin asked. He really did want to help you find Mr. Boba, but you were not exactly helping your case as you kept insisting Mr. Boba was Mr. Boba.

That was until Karasu and Shidou entered the field that helped him and you.

"Y/n-chan! Hi! Why are you sad?!" Shidou asked as he jumped to hug you, before frowning himself, not liking that you were clearly upset by the look at the frown on your face.

"What's wrong, Y/n-chan?" Karasu added, patting your hair.

"Did Rinrin over here make you sad? I'll beat him up for you if you want, Y/n-cha-"

"Shut the fuck up, lukewarm idiot. I didn't do crap." Rin intercepted Shidou, feeling the veins on his head pop.

"No, no, Shidou-san. I just can't find Mr. Boba. What do I do? I need him." The frown on your face deepened into a pout. Karasu was confused as hell who was this Mr. Boba you were talking about. He turned to Rin, who only glared at him.

"I dont know who the hell her Mr. Boba is."

But, Shidou seemed to understand who your Mr. Boba was as the grin on his face widened and he pulled your phone out from your jacket pocket and extended it to your hand.

"Mr. Boba!" You cheered happily at the phone.

"Silly Y/n-chan. It was in your pocket all along!" Shidou said as he pinched your cheeks and stretching it. Meanwhile, Karasu and Rin were just left confused to the side, wondering how the hell was a phone comparable to a boba.

"That's Mr. Boba? What the hell. I don't see it." Karasu commented, but Shidou only stuck his tongue out at both of them.

"You all are blind losers. Can't you see the phonecase design? It has black circles in the bottom and since its a clear case, you can see the (f/c) of the phone! So its like boba." Shidou explained, pointing out the small design of the phone that somehow made it look like a boba in both your and his eyes.

"Yeah! Like Shidou-san said!" You cheered as you hugged the male, thanking him sweetly for helping you find your Mr. Boba.

"I'm surrounded by idiots." Rin said, facepalming as Karasu just laughed.

"Shut the hell up, Rin-rin! You can't say that to Y/n-chan!!!"

"Who said I was also talking about her?"

ADDITIONAL TIME!

Since everyone in the Blue Lock facility found out about your disorder, they became much more protective of you overall.

You are waiting in line for food? No, youre not. Everyone is letting you get your food first.

You have bad time management? They'd help with that. They'll be your personal alarm clock.

You are feeling so bored and want to fidget with something? They'd let you play with their hands while they listened to Ego's damn lectures.

It's all about maintaining your attention span yet enabling you to become a better person as a whole. To improve your mental health and also make you feel that you are more than your disorder.

But, of course, they can't help but spoil you every once in a while. No biggie!

Blue Lock is WRITTEN by Kaneshiro Muneyuki and ILLUSTRATED by Nomura Yusuke. All credits to the both of them.

#aninipanin1 #blue lock #bllk #blue lock x manager!reader #bllk x reader #blue lock x reader #bluelockxreader #various x reader #Don lorenzo x reader #don lorenzo #itoshi rin x reader #itoshi rin #shidou x reader #shidou ryusei #karasu tabito #karasu x reader #hiori x reader #hiori yo

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feelfreetopleasemexo · 26 days ago

Note

WAIT. WAIT. GET THIS.

Katsuki who has crazy mommy issues x laid back and non judgemental reader who he accidentally calls "mommy" because of how comfortable and safe he feels with her.

He doesn't realise it, but subconsciously, he feels like reader gives him all the soft love, connection and understanding his mother never gave him all his life and one random day while they're hanging out in her room or something, when he goes to adress her he almost slips up calling her "Oi Mom——! OH FUCK— I MEAN-" but then reader being very laid back and non judgemental assures him she do not give a fuck and thinks it's super cute he sees her that way

you can totally make this into a smut where he finds out he has a mommy kink and reader tells him its okay and whatever😝

Anyway your writing is so fire and you're super pretty too LOVE YA💋🩷

Oh my fuck, yes i actually love this!! And thank you so much, means the absolute world to me! 😭🥰

A simple slip of the tongue.

What people see when they look at Katsuki:

-standoffish

-asshole

-loud mouth

-brutal

-aggressive

What you see when you look at him:

-passionate

-fiercely loyal

-protective

-honest

-god damn Adonis

It’s one of the many reasons why you work so well together as a couple, where others see his rough exterior, you see the reasons behind it. When it’s just you two he can let his guard down a little, which means you get much more of an insight into his actual personality, quips, troubles and all. Katsuki didnt have the worst childhood in your friendship group, but that doesn’t negate the fact that his mother didnt exactly show him the softest forms of love. Dont get me wrong, she tried her best in the way she knew how, but just because someone punches you in the face as their way of saying they love you, doesn’t mean it still doesn’t hurt like fuck still.

When katsuki got drunk, he got more honest with you, which is the only reason you knew so much about his home life to begin with. It started off with tiny remarks, youd cuddle him into your chest and play with his hair, and hed let out tiny moans and almost inaudible ‘I never got this as a kid’ confessions. First hed get embarrassed that they’d slip out, jump away from you and scorn, but when he saw that every time he’d confess something youd smooth him back to your chest and continue, completely unfazed, the easier it became to open up. He’d never tell you out right , but it was the number one reason he loved you, close second being your deliciously plump ass, he knew that no matter what he threw at you, youd accept him, comfort him, and above all else, love him.

You were in the kitchen, fixing yourself some tea and him some disgustingly spicy noodles which hed demanded he needed after that torturous lecture from Aizawa, when all of a sudden your phone rang. Mina was calling you, hounding you for the notes from the lecture as she definitely had not fall asleep half way through, and definitely did not miss every single thing that Aizawa was talking about. You rolled your eyes as you humoured her, detailing all the important topics that everyone else had managed to write down, when Katsuki began to call for you.

“BABE! Are those noodles done yet? IM DYING IN HERE!….BABE?! Oi! MOM….fuck. Oh fuck. Oh fuck fuck fuck.” The simple slip of the tongue made your heart hitch in your throat, luckily Mina hadn’t heard it and was continuing to trail on about how none of the topics made sense, and how she was sure that she was going to fail the class. You laughed slightly to yourself, the warm familiar feeling rising in your chest which usually came from when Katsuki would drunkenly confess, only this time he was stone cold sober, and this definitely didnt mean to come out. You carried on the conversation with Mina, wrapping it up as Katsuki sheepishly peered his head around the corner of the door. You didn’t even look at him, when you finished with Mina and hung your phone up, you waltzed back over to the noodles and continued stirring them. He stared at you for what felt like an eternity, your body almost moving in slow motion as he gauged whether youd heard him screaming like a banshee or not. He watched your hips sway, you voice hum gently and your hair trailing down the sides of your back.

When the food was ready, you span around and jolted slightly at him peering at you from behind the wooden doorframe.

“Hey baby, sorry it took so long! Mina was kinda yapping so I had to help her out, but here! As spicy as I could physically mark them you mad man.” Your smile warmed the embarrassment in his chest, his shoulders still tense and his jaw as tight as ever, he grabbed the bowl from you with both hands and stared down at it.

“Oh yeah that’s cool, no er, no worries. I was just shouting to see if they were done i, I didn’t realise you were on the phone.”

His eyes stared at the noodles as if theyd personally offended him, ratted him out to you about his slip of the tongue. You kissed the side of his cheek and smiled up at him, causing his eyes to meet yours. Your smile was the sweetest, softest thing hed ever seen, and on more than one occasion was the reason for the confessions in the first place. You tilted your head and giggled softly at him, as he stared at you like a deer in headlights, an angry, embarrassed, fire wielding deer, but still. You walked past him with your tea in one hand, your other grazing gently over his bicep as you past him, sitting down and crossing your legs on your bed as if to invite him to sit infront of you. He walked over to you and perched on the end of the bed, facing you, with his shoulders still stiff, and his clenched jaw causing his cheek muscles to shake.

“I, er….I appreciate it. I appreciate you. Glad you didn’t hear what I said earlier…” his voice became soft, almost a whisper as he cherished the fact you were on the phone call. You stared down as you drank some of your tea, your eyes fixed on the swirls your breath created.

“I heard you. And I don’t care.” His eyes shot to yours, embarrassment and angry filling his face, he grasped the bowl so tightly it nearly scattered under his palms.

“You fucking heard me?! I didn’t mean it, shit, I just…” You leaned over, placing a delicately understanding kiss on his lips, rendering him speechless.

“Kats, I don’t give a shit. I call people mom or sis all the time, shit happens. Brains are weird and mouths are too… but I must say, yours is particularly weird when you do that thing with your tongue that i like.” He couldnt believe you didn’t care, he knew you were nonchalant and understanding but this? After all the times he’d complained to you about his mom, and then calling you her? What was wrong with you?! And what the hell did he do to deserve someone so kind, so understanding, so fucking nice. It baffled him that you seemed so unfazed, so much so that he missed the clear hint of flirting in your voice. You pressed another kiss to his lips, moving slightly closer to him.

“Thought it was kinda hot to be fair, you thinking of me like that. Do you want me to take care of you? Show you how much I love you, baby?” His cheeks became more flushed, his eyes widened at your blatant change in demeanour. Why did the thought of you getting off on him calling you mom cause such a tight feeling in his stomach? Why did you acting like you liked it make his trousers suddenly feel instantly tighter…He tried to shake it off, tried to reassure himself you were just being your usual understanding, kind self, but as soon as you set your drink down and sat yourself in his lap, he knew something was awakening in him.

“Oh fuck, why do you have to have the fucking mommy kink? Denki having it? That’s a no brainer, Deku? Yeah sounds about it, but you? God fuck baby girl, why did I have to pick such a perv?” His eyes softened as you giggled at him, throwing your head back and laughing, only to the bring your forehead to his as you cooed softly.

“Yeah baby, it’s me that has it. All me. Fuck it, I’ll take whatever you can’t right now, as long as it means you call me mommy again.”

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belli5 · 1 month ago

Text

⌗ . ᵎᵎ ⸝⸝ So Close, Yet So Far Away .ᐟ ೀ W.S²

After all the time you spent missing Will, feeling guilty leading on someone else, when your heart isn’t there fully, can a simple message from Will can change everything?

˚₊· ᥫ᭡ Will Smith x fem!reader ➜ Angst, Fluff at the end(?). Note: didn’t know how to end this really, so kept it short and sweet. 🥰 masterlist. ➜Part one:Hoping I’ll find a glimpse of us. ➜Part three:let me love you

Your friend had the idea.

“Come on, it’s been ages. And besides, you said you missed watching hockey live.”

You hesitated, chewing on your bottom lip like the motion might hide the sudden ache crawling up your throat. The Sharks were playing the Hurricanes—a big game.

And Will would be on the ice.

Still, you agreed. Because some part of you wanted to suffer. Because you were tired of pretending his name didn’t still rattle around your ribcage like a ghost trying to find a way out.

You didn’t have to wear his jersey. You made sure of that.

Instead, you pulled on a plain teal Sharks jersey, the back left intentionally blank. No number. No name. You couldn’t stomach the weight of it. You didn’t want to be noticed. And just to make yourself feel more like a new person, someone entirely different from the version of you who used to scream Will’s name from the stands, you tied a black SJ Sharks scarf around your hips, knotting it right where the button of your jeans was.

The game was electric. The tank rumbled with noise—fans banging on the glass, people waving signs, old couples clapping politely in coordinated Sharks beanies. The lights hit the ice just right. The cold air curled into your lungs like a familiar friend.

Will skated out second in the line up.

God, he looked.. taller. Stronger. His face was locked in that same pre-game focus you’d seen a hundred times before, that quiet storm expression that made your stomach twist back then. Your heart betrayed you—it skipped a beat. Maybe two.

You friend elbowed you lightly, smirking. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” you lied. “Just cold.”

By the second period, the score was 1-1, William Eklund being the one who scored in first period. Will on the other hand played, just as easy to watch as he used to be.

He never looked your way. Not once.

Or maybe he did. A few times he’d glance toward your section after a whistle, his eyes dragging slowly over the crowd like he was trying to find something. Or someone. But it didn’t matter. Because his gaze never stopped on you. Never lingered. And you were wearing that damn blank jersey, anyway. Just a shadow now.

And still, everytime he skated past the glass, your knees went weak.

Every time you heard his name over the intercom, your throat tightened like the syllables were wrapped in barbed wire.

It was during intermission when your friend turned to you again, eyes softening. She’d seen enough. “Y’know,” she said slowly, “you never really told me much about what happened with him.”

You shrugged, eyes glued to the ice as the zamboni did slow laps. “There’s not much to say.”

“Bullshit.” She paused. “I mean.. I didn’t mean to push,” she added gently. “I get it. But I’ve known you a long time, and I’ve never seen you look at someone the way you looked at him. You used to light up just saying his name.”

You wanted to say something back. Something witty. Maybe sarcastic.

Instead, your thoughts wandered to him again. His birthday, what was 3 days ago.

You didn’t text him. You didn’t dare. But that day you barely spoke to anyone. You told your boyfriend you need to catch up with some things.

But the truth was, you spent half the day scrolling through your phone. Digging through the messages, just to hear him laugh again. Just to find one voice message where he said your name. Or told you something dumb. Or whispered goodnight.

You didn’t even know why you still had them. You told yourself you’d delete them tomorrow. Always tomorrow.

Now your friend was looking at you with something that felt close to pity.

“You have a new boyfriend,” she reminded you. “One who treats you really well. Who doesn’t make you cry. Who brings your mom flowers and lets you sleep in his hoodie.”

You smiled, but it didn’t reach your eyes.

“I know.”

“But?”

You sighed. “I don’t know how I’m supposed to keep doing this,” you admitted quietly. “With someone who’s perfect.. but not him.”

There it was. The truth. You stomach twisted with guilt, your fingers curling in your lap. “He’s so good to me,” you said, looking down at your lap. “And I feel like a fraud everytime I hold his hand. Like I’m leading him on because I’m still haunted by someone who doesn’t even see me anymore.”

Your friend leaned in closer. “Then why do it?”

“I don’t know,” you said again. “Maybe I keep hoping I’ll stop seeing Will in other people. That if I try hard enough, this new love will overwrite the old one.”

“And has it?”

You looked back down at the black scarf tied around your hips. “No.”

The final score was 3-1, hurricanes had won.

The crowd started thinning, people shuffling toward the exits. Your friend grabbed your hand and tugged you up gently, and you followed her in a daze, your body moving automatically through the warm chaos of post-game chatter and concession stand lines.

But just before you turned the corner out of the section, you glanced back.

Will was by the glass where he’d skate off the ice, and this time he was looking right where you’d been sitting.

Right where you stood now, frozen mid-step, the crowd slipping past you like waves. For a moment, you locked eyes. Or atleast you thought you did.

But then he blinked, ducked his head, and disappeared down the tunnel like you were just another fan. Like the years you spent loving each other were someone else’s story.

The city lights blurred behind the car windows as you and your friend drove in silence, the soft hum of music barely filling the space between you.

Neither of you spoke much after the game. There wasn’t much to say. The Sharks lost. Will played well. And somewhere between the second and third period, your heart had cracked open again like it always did when he was near.

You had hoped this game would be harmless. Just something fun. A distraction. But it wasn’t. How could it be a distraction anyway?

You were still thinking about that final glance he gave. The way he looked right at your section after the buzzer. Like he knew. Like for one second he saw past the crowd and spotted you.

And now you were back in your apartment, flopped on the couch with your legs tucked beneath you, wearing that same jersey and a tired look in your eyes.

Your friend emerged from the kitchen with two mugs of tea, handing one to you before sitting cross-legged on the opposite end of the couch.

“You haven’t said much,” she murmured.”

You shrugged. “Neither have you.”

“I was giving you space.”

“I didn’t ask for space.”

“You never do. That’s the problem.”

You looked up, blinking. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

She took a sip from her mug before answering. “It means you’re holding in a category-five emotional hurricane, and eventually it’s gonna tear someone else apart.”

You looked at you hands, suddenly unsure how to respond.

She waited a beat, then added softly. “It’s going to be Luca.”

That stung.

“I don’t mean that in a cruel way,” she said quickly. “I like him. He’s sweet. He’s stable. And he clearly like you—a lot.”

You nodded, fingers tightening around the mug.

“But if you don’t feel the same,” she continued gently, “be deserves to know.”

“I do like him,” you said. “I just..” you trailed off. The sentence hung there.

She tilted her head. “But you don’t love him.”

You didn’t answer. You didn’t need to. Your friend sighed, setting her tea down. “Look. I get it. You’re trying to move on. To do the healthy thing. But pretending with Luca is hurting you both.”

“I’m not pretending,” you mumbled, though even you weren’t convinced.

She looked at you sadly. “Y/n.. you wore a nameless Sharks jersey to avoid being obvious, but you still tied that scarf around you hips the same way you used to when he liked it. You still sat low in your seat, but leaned just enough for him to see you. And when he looked up after the game? You froze like your lungs had forgotten how to work.”

Your chest ached. The truth has never been gentle. “I’m trying,” you whispered. “I’m trying to let go of Will. But it’s like.. even when I don’t say his name, he’s still everywhere. In the stupid way I butter toast or the song that played in the car or the way Luca holds my hand, and all I can think is: Will did that too.”

Tears brimmed in your eyes before you could stop them.

Your friends voice softened. “I know. But if Will is still the person you’re comparing everyone to, then you’re not ready to be with someone else.”

A long silence passed. Finally, you asked, “What am I supposed to do? Break Lucas heart?”

“No,” she said. “You’re supposed to be honest. That’s the only way to stop dragging it out. If you keep faking it, trying to force something that isn’t real, then you’ll break his heart.”

You stared at the floor. “I don’t want to hurt him,” you said.

“I know.”

“But I also don’t want to stay just because I’m afraid to be alone again.” Your voice cracked as you admitted, the weight of everything finally catching up to you. Your friend scooted closer, placing a hand over yours.

“Then don’t,” she said. “Be brave. Say what you need to say. Because the longer you wait, the worse it’ll be. For him. For you. For everyone.”

You nodded slowly, tears slipping down your cheeks. “I feel like such a bad person.”

“You’re not,” she said immediately. “You’re just heartbroken.”

That night, after your friend left and the apartment had gone quiet, you stood in front of the bathroom mirror.

The jersey was wrinkled now. Your hair was a mess. Your eyes puffy. You looked like someone who still loved a boy who wasn’t hers. And maybe that’s exactly who you were.

Your phone buzzed on the counter.

Luca 😚 Hope you had fun at the game. Call me when you’re home safe?

You stared at the message, fingers trembling. You didn’t reply right away. But when you did, you sent a simple message.

Me Hey. I’m home. Can you come over? I need to talk.

You didn’t say more. Didn’t try to soften it with a heart or a “miss you” you just hit send, then tossed your phone onto the bed and sat quietly in the low glow of your lamp.

Your apartment felt too quiet. Too still.

Fifteen minutes later, there was a knock at your door. You opened it to find Luca standing there in a hoodie and joggers. “Hey,” he said, stepping in.

“Hi.”

You shut the door behind him, the silence between you already too heavy. He sat in the couch, not leaning in for a hug or a kiss, just.. waiting. Like he already knew something was coming.

You sat beside him, not too close, hands clasped tightly in your lap. For a while, neither of you spoke. Finally, you said quietly, “Thank you for coming.”

“Of course.”

“I..” you paused, trying to gather the words that wouldn’t destroy him. “I’ve been thinking about this for a while. And I didn’t want to say anything until I was sure.”

He nodded, eyes fixed on the floor.

“I care about you,” you said. “you’re kind, and patient, and everything I told myself I needed. But I don’t think it’s fair to keep being with you when.. when my hearts not fully here.”

His jaw tensed slightly, but he didn’t interrupt.

“I thought I could grow into this,” you continued. “That if I just gave it time, the feelings would catch up. But they haven’t. And today, at the game.. I realised I can’t keep lying to myself.”

You didn’t say Will’s name. You didn’t have to.

Luca let out a soft breath, still looking down. “I figured.”

You blinked. “You did?”

“I mean,” he gave a faint, bitter smile. “You went to your ex’s game.” You stayed quiet. “I told myself it didn’t matter,” he went on. “that it was just hockey, just a night out with your friend. But the second I saw the story you posted, the jersey. And the scarf.. I knew.”

Your mouth felt dry. “I didn’t wear his jersey—”

“I know,” he cut in gently. “But you didn’t need to to. You wore something he’d recognise. Something he’d notice. And I guess that’s when I realised.. maybe part of you was still hoping he would.”

You closed your eyes. “I’m sorry,” you whispered.

“I know.” Another silence stretched between you. Luca finally looked up. “Did you talk to him?”

“No,” you shook your head. “He looked. Just once. “I don’t even know if he saw me.”

Luca studied your face, like he was trying to figure out whether that hurt you more than it should. And It did. But you didn’t say that out loud.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you,” you said. “You don’t deserve this.”

“No, I don’t,” he replied softly. “But I think I knew from the beginning that part of you wasn’t ready. I just hoped.. maybe if I was good enough, patient enough, you’d get there.”

“I wanted to,” you said honestly. “I really, really did.”

“But you didn’t.”

You shook your head. “No.”

Luca leaned back on the couch, exhaling through his nose. “You know the worst part?” He murmured. “You never even talked about him. Never said how you ended. But he was always there..”

You stared at your hands.

“I don’t blame you,” he added. “I mean, how could anyone walk away from a love that big without scars?”

That made the tears rise fast. You blinked them back.

“I just..” He turned to face you. “I wish I wasn’t the one you used to figure that out. And I guess you were never really mine, it was just my turn..”

You reached out instinctively, but he didn’t take your hand. Not out of cruelty—just because it was over. And you both knew it.

“I’ll give you space,” he said rising to his feet. “I’ll come by for my stuff another time.”

You nodded. “Okay.”

He lingered by the door for a second. “I hope he was worth it,” he said softly. “Or at least.. I hope you find peace, with or without him.”

You swallowed. “Thank you. For everything.”

He didn’t answer. He just left. The door closed behind him with a quiet finality that echoed through the apartment, leaving you sitting there on the couch—wrapped in the kind of silence that only comes when something real ends.

You didn’t move for a long time. And when you finally did, it was to curl up in bed, face buried in your pillow, tears soaking the fabric.

Few days went past. The world kept moving. Even if yours hadn’t. Outside your window, it was raining—soft and steady, the kind of gray that blurred everything.

You stayed curled up under a blanket on the couch, eyes fixed on the television that you weren’t really watching. Your phone sat untouched beside you, screen dark.

You hadn’t told anyone yet. Not even your closest friends. You needed just a few days—few days to breathe, or cry, or not feel anything at all.

But then, your phone buzzed. You didn’t expect the name. You didn’t expect him.

Smitty 🩷 Hey.

You stared at the screen for a long moment, unsure whether you were dreaming. Whether this was your brain making something up just to feel something again.

You unlocked your phone with shaky fingers.

Smitty 🩷 I had the weirdest dream.

That was it. Just that one sentence—open, unfinished, and impossibly him. You hesitated. Then you typed back.

Me What kind of dream?

Three dots. Then a pause. Then they disappeared. Then came the message.

Smitty 🩷 That we were still together. That you weren’t gone.

Your breath caught in your throat. The blanket suddenly felt too heavy.

Smitty 🩷 We were at the beach you used to love. The one with the rocks and the ice cream truck that always played the same song.

You closed your eyes, and you could almost smell the salt in the air. Almost feel the weight of his hoodie draped over your shoulders.

Smitty 🩷 I swear it felt real

You didn’t know what to say. The words stayed stuck somewhere deep in your chest, choking you quietly.

Smitty 🩷 You’re still mine, aren’t you?

Your lungs forgot how to breathe. Your heart ached—the worst kind of ache, the kind that remembered every version oh him: the messy hair in the mornings, the way his voice dropped when he whispered your name, the laugh that came from his chest when you wore his jersey and pretended to know hockey stats better than him.

For a second, just a second, you wanted to type yes.

Because the words felt real. Too raw. Like the world had paused and spun backward—just to let you step into that dream for one more second.

Just to let you be his again.

But you blinked, and reality crashed back in.

Lucas voice rang faintly in your memory. “He was always there.”

The pain you left behind. The guilt still clinging to your ribs. The truth. You stared at the screen. But you didn’t know what to say. You didn’t say yes. You didn’t say no.

Your mom had always told you sometimes, silence is the only answer you have left. But not this time. Not when it was him. Not when it was that message.

You say there for what felt like hours—when in reality it was just a few minutes—your pulse loud in your ears. You’d imagined a thousand ways he might reach out. A late night “hey”, a picture from a memory, but never this.

Never you’re still mine, aren’t you?

You chest ached. Not from pain, not anymore. From want. From the almost.

The screen lit up. His name still stared back at you. He was still waiting. And suddenly, all of your pretending cracked open.

Me You’re really gonna drop that on me like that?

You stared at it. Hovered over the send button. The tapped it.

Delivered. Immediately, those little dots appeared.

Smitty 🩷 I don’t know what I expected. But I had to say it.

Me Why now?

Another pause. Longer this time.

Smitty 🩷 Because you were in the crowd that night.

You sat up straighter. You didn’t think he saw you. You thought you’d imagined that moment—the way his eyes scanned the stands, the split second you swore they met yours. You’d told yourself it was wishful thinking. Nothing more.

Smitty 🩷 I don’t know why I looked. But I just knew you were there.

You bit your lip. Everything inside you swirled—the storm, the guilt, the want. You remembered what Luca had said. The way he looked at you when he left. “You were never really mine, it was just my turn..”

And maybe he wasn’t wrong. Because right now, texting Will, it felt like breathing again after being underwater for too long.

Me I dreamed about you too.

Even the night before your birthday

But it was never weird..

He didn’t reply immediately.

Smitty 🩷 I kept looking at my phone that whole day.

Me I wanted to text you. I really did.

Smitty 🩷 Why didn’t you?

You hesitated.

Me Because it still hurts

No reply. Not for a minute. Not for two.

Smitty 🩷 Me too

It was quiet again. No questions. No begging. Just that quiet little confession, tucked into the glow of your screen like it still meant something.

And even though you were still on opposite sides of whatever this was now—heartbreak, healing, hope—it was enough.

Just to hear his voice in your head again. Just to know he still dreamed of you. You didn’t know if this would fix anything. But for the first time in a long time, your chest didn’t feel so heavy. Because he wrote first. And you answered.

Your phone buzzed again later that night. You were still curled up on the couch, half-watching the end of some movie you’d seen a hundred times, when his name lit up your screen.

Smitty 🩷 Let me take you out to dinner.

Just like that. Like he hadn’t cracked your entire chest open a few hours ago. Like he hadn’t been silent for months. Like he hadn’t let you go without a fight.

You stared at the words. You read them once. Twice. A third time. You didn’t answer right away. Instead, you sat up, the blanket falling off your shoulders as the weight of his message settled over you.

Dinner. It was everything you used to hope for.

The time your birthday went past and he didn’t text. Everytime you drove past a rink and thought of his laugh echoing through the concrete tunnels.

You used to dream of this. Of him showing up. Of him trying.

Your thumb hovered over the keyboard. Then you typed.

Me Why now, Will?

The dots popped up immediately.

Smitty 🩷 Because I couldn’t stop thinking about you after the game. Because when I saw you in the crowd, it hit me how long it’s been. How far away you feel. And how badly I want to fix that.

You blinked hard. Your throat tightened. It was everything you wanted to hear.

Me You could’ve tried to fix things before.

You didn’t mean for it to sound bitter, but it did. You weren’t sorry.

Smitty 🩷 I know.

I thought I was doing the right thing by letting you go.

But I was wrong.

You swallowed. You remembered every night you cried into your pillow, wondering if he even missed you. You remembered dating Luca and feeling like a fraud every time you reached for someone who wasn’t Will. You remembered telling yourself to let go—and never quite managing it.

You wanted to scream. You wanted to cry. You wanted to go.

Me When?

Smitty 🩷 This Saturday? Somewhere quiet. Just us.

You could still say no. You could still protect yourself. But you didn’t. Because later you would regret it, if you said no.

Me Sure.

#belli5 #will smith hockey #will smith x reader #x reader #sj sharks #hockey #will smith imagine #nhl hockey #nhl players #nhl #nhl imagine #will smith x you #will smith x y/n #san jose sharks #will smith fanfic #will smith nhl #ws2 #ws2 x reader

182 notes · View notes

suh-lee · 6 months ago

Text

' explore ' - frontman

𐔌♯ pairing — dom top hwang inho/youngil/player 001 x sub bottom amab!reader

𐔌♯ warnings — smut mdni, CONSENTUAL, inho is mxm virgin, previous and current mentions of manipulation, age gap implied, masculine pronouns and titles for reader, this is not alpha omega but reader is lowk in heat, safe word and kinks are discussed mid-story, inho is referred to as youngil since that is what reader knows him as at this point in the story

𐔌♯ word count — 2,016

𐔌♯ authors note — i need him so bad omg. NOT PROOFREAD !! pls send me squid game recs in my ask box 🫤🫤😖😖

"ya, yn." you heard someone call from behind you, causing you to turn around. you were met with young-il, one of the people whom you had gotten close with during your time locked in this facility.

"hyung!" you exclaimed happily as you saw him alive after the excruciating game of mingle each player had just participated in. he walked in with a serious expression on his face.. you stared at him, trying to get a glimpse into what he was thinking.

now that you think about it, the round where he had to separate from your group, he walked out of a room alone.. that wouldn't have been allowed..? and how did he guess that the final round would be two players per room, no matter if it was slightly logical.

you pushed aside these doubtful feelings toward your hyung and just decided to talk to him after lights out once he watches over our group of players.

"hyung.." you said in a whispered tone as you crawled out from your bunk bed and sat next to him on the stairs.

"yn-ah.. why are you awake? you need rest for the games tomorrow, and your bones are still developing to their full potential. sleep will help with that." young-il said to you quietly, looking at you with a concerned look but having no real emotion behind his eyes, which you took note of.

you darted your eyes away from him for a moment, trying to find how to phrase your words. "could i talk to you..? in private.." you said, tilting your head toward the door that could lead to the bathroom.

young-il quietly nodded and peaked around the large room, filled with countless bunk-beds. he stood up after a moment, walking to the door thay lead to the hallway and knocked on the door.

a guard peaked his head through the window, about to object, but he had seen who was at the door. the guard frantically nodded and opened the door quickly, allowing you and young-il to walk to the bathroom alone.

he held the door open for you, allowing you to walk through and closing it after he entered behind you. he turned a lock on the door and turned toward you, "what did you want?"

"can i ask you a few things?" you spoke softly, receiving a small nod from young-il.

"one.. why do the guards practically ignore you when you do something wrong...? and why didn't i see you in the first game.. or the short time before that..?" you asked, looking at him directly in the eye, attempting to confront him.

he let out a soft smirk at your questions, eyeing you up and down, "you ask too many questions.." he mumbled as he took a step closer toward you, "why all of a sudden are you so cautious??"

"i was there during the first game.. i just tried to blend in the background, using the other players to hide my body.." he said in a confident tone, slowly replanting the seed of trust back into you. "and.. i wouldn't say the guards ignore me.. i just haven't done really anything that they would have to kill, or acknowledge, me for. that's why they turn a blind eye toward me.. i imagine if i did do anything wrong, i would have the same fate as the others.. but, we don't want to test that theory out.. now do we?"

you looked at him as he spoke, he truly had your undivided attention. as he started to explain himself, you were able to understand his reasoning.. but oh my god, something about his confidence mixed with the stereotypically attractive face he had. it drove you insane.

"y..yeah.. that makes sense... sorry if it seemed as if i was doubting you. it's just- you can never be sure here... anybody could be a person in power and we wouldn't know."

"i understand, yn." he said, his usual warm smile on his face, "do you still have your doubts against me?"

"they've been... decreased.. i have no reason to fully trust you, but i also have no reason to believe your lying at the moment. i do hope you're being truthful, though."

"..that's a very smart mindset you have..." he said with a nod, before continuing "especially for an environment like this one. we never know a person's true motives, just as they don't know ours."

you nodded at him, but you weren't really listening. glancing at him up and down, your eyes clearly betrayed you. he started to go on about how trust was a very fragile thing, but you could only comprehend a few words.

he laughed as he noticed the daze you seemed to be in, "are you listening?"

"oh.. sorry!" you spoke quickly.

he listened to your apology with a small smile, looking at you from top to bottom, slowly analyzing everything about your body. his stare coming back up to your face after a long minute of silence.

"you know.. you're kinda cute.." he said after a moment, leaving you stunned as he finished, "and i get an urge that you feel an attraction, of the sort, to me... now, please tell me if i'm wrong."

you stared at him blankly. he read you like a book. you tried to find a way to brush it off, but there was nothing that you could think of. "..i guess you're right." you said in a shy tone.

he looked at you with a small smirk, "well.. im not experienced on homosexual intimacy much.. but i could always. i sense the feeling that you want me in this very moment.. would that be wrong?" he said, leaving you to frantically shake you head, he was right, and you wanted him to know it. he was getting you desperate.

"hmm... well, as far as i know.. we'll be alone in here for a while, most of the other players are probably sleeping at the moment..." he said, diverting his gaze away from you for a moment before looking back at your widened eyes. "shall we start..?"

"uhm.. yes.." you said, looking at him, waiting for him to continue doing something, whether that be an action or more speech.

"what are you into.. and what are you not into.." he said, waiting for you to respond.

you mentioned a list of things, but the few you listed first all seemed to be pain related, and that intrigued youngil. "do you have a safeword..?"

you nodded and said your safeword, receiving a nod from him. "is there anything else men talk about before they have intercourse?" he asked, receiving a small chuckle from you.

"not really... it's basically the same as any intercourse.. just one less hole to find." you joked before asking, "then, are you ready."

"of course.." he said before untying the drawstring on the bottoms of the tracksuit, letting them be loose around the waist. you did the same thing, except everything went off.

the cold breeze went through the air, hitting your unclothed body and giving you shivers.

young-il looked at your nude body for a moment, taking in the sight of your figure, before doing the same.

you looked at his nude body after he managed to get everything off, trying to resist the pleased smile you had been wanting to place on your face. you slowly kneeled down on the mint green tiles, the temperature no longer being an issue. as you stared at his dick, you could almost watch it slowly rise. he was clearly enjoying this as much as you were. you placed your hands on his balls and placed your mouth on the tip, slowly teasing it by moving your mouth down once, and immediately removing your lips.

he glanced down at you, making eye contact. he clearly was not pleased with your teasing. his intimidating glare made you get back to work, bopping your head up and down his cock and having your tongue wiggle down it strategically.

young-il had let a small groan escape from his lips before quickly letting more follow. this reaction had you more than pleased, making your speed increase and letting your hands start to tease his balls.

"can i?" he asked through pants. you nodded, your mouth still on his dick as he let his semen release. the warm licked spilled onto your tongue and coated the back of your throat. you left it in there for a minute before swallowing it. looking back up at him with pleading eyes.

"you're too cute." he mumbled, leaning down to place his hand on your shoulder, slowly rubbing back and forth. "and so eager.." young-il continued, crouching down to be face to face with you.

young-il grabbed your face in a possibly rough way, his hand on your chin as he held your face close to his. he smirked for a moment before moving his face in, placing his lips on yours. the kiss quickly became heated, the two tongues fighting for dominance as you ran your hands all around his body. the kiss went on for a long while, his arms wrapping around your waist and leaning your body into his.

opening his eyes, young-il took a look at your desperate demeanor. he smiled in the kiss and slowly pulled away, gaining a small whine from you. youngil observed your body once more before carefully lowering you onto the tiles of the bathroom floor. your dick was desperately hard and seeking for any sort of friction, so when he finally rubbed a hand on your dick, you let out a breathy moan. the volume of that moan echoed throughout the bathroom, and it wouldn't be shocking if it reached the hallways too.. but that was honestly the least of your worries. he grabbed your dick and stroked up and down on it. he was damn good at a handjob. it didn't take long for you to go over the edge, long streams of white liquid emerging from your cock and landing into his hand and all over the floor.

young-il smiled at you, helping you turn around on the floor, your torso and face laying on the tiles. he stood up and washed his hands thoroughly before leaning back down and placing his hands on your ass, carefully massaging it before taking a finger and sliding it into your butt, moving it inward and outward at a slow pace, slowly starting to stretch you out. it didn't hurt.. if anything, you could barely feel it.. until he slid the second finger in. he curled one finger and kept the other straight, allowing him to reach more unexplored places in you. this didn't go on for a long while, both of you quickly losing patience.

young-il slid his fingers out of you and quickly aligned his dick with your asshole, rubbing it against a few times before slowly sliding into you. you groaned loudly as you tried to adjust to his size. he smirked as your back went into more of an arch shape. he placed both of his hands on your sides, using it to hold you stable and keep you from slamming into the hard tiles of the floor. the speed of him slowly started to increase as he got closer to his high.

"do you want it in or out..?" he said with a groan.

"..out.." even if you couldn't see it, he nodded and slammed into you a few more times before pulling out and letting his semen coat your back. as he finished, you quickly turned yourself around and wrapped your hand around your cock, stroking yourself to finish your high. the pants that escaped your lips filled the room before a loud moan followed, your semen falling on the floor once more.

you looked at young-il with a defeated smile, the exhaust of your body hitting you. he looked back at you, landing a small kiss on your lips. this was going to be a memory you both will remember for a while.

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eccentricallygothic · 2 years ago

Note

When I want to read dark fics, your writing just hits. One of my guilty pleasures recently has been dark!winter soldier stuff and I was hoping you could write one.

If you can, can you make it where Bucky is still the Winter Soldier and finds himself completely enamored with the reader. He stalks her briefly and decides he has to have her. So where it gets dark is mean, brooding soldier kidnaps reader and makes her his housewife. (I’d like to think that some of Bucky’s 40ness is still there along with some good old fashion 50s idealization where he basically molds her into being his perfect little housewife.)

He can still be with hydra or not but this thought has been buzzing around in my head recently and I personally am not good at writing dark fics.

Um, hell yes I can! Also, not me having almost exactly the same idea (it was in my drafts and I totally merged it with yours). Sorry for being late uni kicks my butt hard TT. Also, please note that this is a headcanon kind of situation type deal but apparently there's a limit to how many bullets you can put per post so that's why it looks the way it does! Hope you like it still. Unedited ❤️

Warning(s): Dubcon (just to be safe), stalking, kidnapping, housewife kink, stockholm syndrome, spanking, misogyny, domestic discipline, breeding kink (dash), age gap (I mean, man is over a century old). Contains mature content. Browse at your own discretion. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

You are absolutely shit faced as you stumble out the backdoor of the club with two of your girlfriends tangled around each arm.

You are all giggling, stumbling and slurring out curses, trying to shush each other as you trudge your forms to your apartment complex that is close by because driving is obviously out of question now.

Were it not for your overly intoxicated state, you would have totally noticed the dark silhouette that stills in the dark alley facing the backdoor.

The man masked in the darkness tilts his head to the side as he tries to read your party, having gotten caught off guard by the sudden bursting open of the door.

One of your friends stagger in his direction and he moves back, his labored breaths warm in his mask, watching the girl as she retches her guts out.

Silence follows the wheezes and gags of the girl.

Then there is a sound– a melody in the air.

Soldat feels something stir within himself.

Something his masters did their best to suppress.

Not that they would be doing any more of that.

They needed to be alive to do something like that ever again.

His eyebrows furrow as he scans your group for the source of the sound; you.

You are laughing.

At your friend that is throwing up.

Hands clutching your hurting sides, eyes scrunched, head thrown back, flushed and sweaty face vibrant under the bright moonlight as your hair frames it in the most perfect way possible.

A shaky breath escapes the man covered in tears and blood of his captors and oppressors.

His eyes scan your form.

Beautiful.

His metal hand clenches into a fist and he makes his resolve almost instantly;

Mine.

Soldat cannot recall much of his past except for a few things like his name.

But he knows that it has been a long, long time.

And it's time to go home.

But a home is not walls and concrete.

It is the people that live in it.

His head is a mess as he scales a wall and follows you to your building, skipping from roof to roof effortlessly with a careful eye on your form.

James had finally broken free against hydra yesterday morning while they were experimenting something more brutal.

And during the following hours, all various leaders that made the organization what it was were dead.

For what is a structure without its pillars?

He had plundered them single handedly.

And now he was a slave no more.

James would live, and he would take.

Just as had been taken from him.

You woke up the next morning, sprawled across your bed.

As you winced and sat up, you could swear you had knocked out on the couch last night.

But since you couldn't teleport, it was probably just a gap in your memory.

Right?

The second sign was the painkillers and water next to you on the bedside table.

The third was the window of your room that was open wide.

But you shook your head as you were behind on your schedule for the day and got on with your busy university student life.

You should have taken notice of the signs.

How things would always somehow work out when you were struggling with some sort of a problem.

Regardless of whatever type of an issue it was.

Your friends joked about it as Divine Providence.

And Divine it was, you lived to learn.

When it happened, it wasn't after a dramatic chase or anything.

You had simply woken up in a room you had never seen before, tucked in the bed like it had been yours for ages.

What even happened?

You had finished an assignment before heading to bed for an early class the next morning.

But now you were timidly surveying the room, more and more panic filling you by the passing second.

The house is beautiful and bright outside the dark room you had woken up in, big glass windows facing tall trees and various other type of greenery outside.

A loud gasp escaped you when you were somewhere in the middle of the living room.

You turned around to find a huge and by that you mean, giant man standing a few steps away from you.

You could swear he wasn't there a minute ago.

But now he is towering over you, head tilted to the side as if interacting with something from an outer planet, eyes scanning your form slowly.

As if he's savouring the sight of you in a…

Your blood runs cold as you look down to realize that you are dressed in a white sundress with yellow and red flowers printed on it.

Your eyes widen in horror.

Because you had been wearing your PJs last night–

Or, rather, the last time you were awake.

Before you can say anything, he extends a hand towards you invitingly, nodding sideways to what seems to be the kitchen.

Something in his hand glints in the sunlight coming from the windows.

It is when your panicked vision realizes that the hand and the whole arm is made up of metal, your body backs away.

With your mouth agape, you demand shakily.

"Who the hell are you?"

He sighs.

"What the hell is this place? Why am I here? What the fuck is going on?!"

The man's features scrunch in disapproval.

Your choice of words is much unappreciated.

"Good little wives don't ask questions."

In his angry, fried and entitled delusional mind you are as much in love with him as he is.

Otherwise, why would you just accept all the favours he did for you during all these months he was building a perfect home for the both of you and your future children?

He takes a step in your direction and you leap back.

After a short game of cat and mouse, you are trapped against the glass window.

He is too close.

There is a heavy looking vase on the table next to you.

The shock on his face is evident.

He hadn't expected you, his wife, such a small and innocent girl to disrespect her husband like this.

You whimper in horror when he doesn't budge against the decoration piece exploding against his brow bone.

James' eyes narrow as he leans in, a thick stream of blood running down the hurt side of his face.

"Bad girl" and you take off without a second thought.

Thankfully, the door is straight ahead and surprisingly unlocked.

You run without looking back.

The man is not chasing you like you expected.

But you don't want to stick around and find out why.

Though the reason is soon revealed when you race through the little garden and out of the fence door.

You are looking behind you and at the house so it is not until you are a good distance away from it do you turn your head to look ahead.

Icy horror pierces its way down your spine.

Sand and palm trees dominate your vision as far as you can see where you are and your right side.

A devastatingly vast ocean washes the shore you are running on from the left side.

That doesn't stop you until your body gives up after a few minutes.

You ran into the jungle for some cover.

Sobs and tears burst out of you as you collapse on a blanket of leaves.

Your body is weak and confused.

Many hours pass.

You wander and starve.

You hide and shake.

You tip toe and give up.

There are wild animals all around you.

You can hear them.

It's terrifying.

So terrifying that when you hear the stranger's voice some time after dusk, you are almost glad.

Are you done? His bright blue eyes that you can make out even in the dim light ask you silently.

"How'd you even find me?" You were sure you had run a good couple miles.

He refuses to respond until you place your shaking hand in his awaiting metal one.

"I can smell you" his accent is almost foreign as he pulls you up, frowning at your hurt bare feet.

It took you hours to get to where you were but it only takes James a few minutes to get you back home.

"Before I clean you up, I need to punish you." You are baffled. "Good wives don't run away from their husbands."

He doesn't listen to any of your protests and reason that day or ever.

"Little girls don't know what is right for them. Only their husbands can decide that."

He thoroughly washes you that night after giving you the worst spanking, paying no mind to your begging and crying.

You are sniffling as you sit on the bathroom counter wrapped up in a towel an hour later, your sore ass buzzing under you.

Your captor is kneeling in front of you as he tends to your hurt feet.

He tells you your rules as he does so.

"First, you are to always obey me no matter what. Second, your body belongs to me as I am your husband, so you should not try to deny me of it because it will never end well for you. Third, you will respect me or you will live to learn to do so. Four, you will do your chores like a good wife and fulfill your wifely responsibilities. Five, you are to always accept your punishments and thank me for disciplining you after I am through with you, should you choose to break a rule or misbehave. Six, you will not indulge in any activity that can potentially corrupt your little mind. Seven, you will speak with respect and never out of turn. Eight, you are to always greet me when you wake up or if I have been gone a while. Nine, you can try to run. I will never stop you. But when you return home after failing, you will take your punishment obediently. Ten, you must never touch yourself. You are mine and mine alone."

Since the spanking is still fresh on your skin you panic a little and fear forgetting them.

But you find them pasted on the fridge the following morning because he knew you were too dumb to remember them.

A few days pass before you explode about not being his wife and call him crazy.

"You weren't saying that when I did you all those favours."

Horror dawns upon you as you realize that it was him all along.

You don't give up easily, though.

You try to run more times than you can keep count.

Every direction, every plan and every map you make proves to be useless.

Because the last time you do so, you realize that you are on a fucking island.

And since there is a dock near the house with the pantry never running low on groceries, James has a means of transport hidden somewhere is no mystery.

But you don't know when he does it.

So far you haven't been able to figure out a pattern.

Either he was right about you being dumb or your captor was really good at staying one step ahead of you.

Anyways, you have no choice but to return to him crushed and sobbing as always.

He is reading something when you collapse between his legs; ready to accept your punishment as you have learnt that hiding and denying only makes it worse.

James isn't so bad if you follow his rules.

He is just a kidnapper and a misogynist with dangerous reflexes.

His face is smug as he puts the book away. You have noticed that he is not as stiff and troubled as he used to be when you first woke up here months ago at this point.

"How was it, doll?" He loves to hear you talk about it as he bruises your ass. "Any luck?"

Today, though, something different happens.

You don't know if it's resignation and surrender finally settling in or if you have actually started to like this life.

How James gives you a nod of approval and pats your head rewardingly whenever you follow all your rules without any trouble.

The way he lets you stay up past your bed time (yes you have one because good wives are healthy for their husbands) to read a book or watch a movie.

If you were extra good and talked to him (though he was a man of a few words) and helped him out with a little farming thing he had going on in the backyard/patio, he would even let you sleep in the following morning.

No stress or pulling yourself through classes and tight budgets.

Just being what he considered good and then whatever you would mention briefly would be in the house within the next few days.

When he is done punishing you, you thank him and apologize according to routine. But then you hug him.

You tell yourself it is due to the sad reality that your torment is your comfort.

Has to be.

You have no choice.

And then something unexpected happens in the course of the next few days.

While trying to make the best out of this situation, you start to notice the little things, quirks and rituals, habits and mannerisms of this man.

How he doesn't say anything if he doesn't like a certain ingredient or condiment in something you cooked but pushes it aside to use as compost later.

The way he holds you extra tight some times when he mutters a foreign language in his sleep.

How he stares at the scary metal arm after a long day while waiting for you to finish up dinner.

Or the way he struggles to hold himself back whenever you are in a close proximity to him because you cried once he crept his hand up your ass in a sexual way.

You don't get him sometimes.

His morals are as mysterious as him.

Because he kidnapped you and forced you to be his wife in a '40's way, strips you to spank and humiliate you during punishments, then bathes and comforts you in his own way of silently holding you against his chest in his arms until you calm down.

Your tears don't effect him.

But then he refuses to touch you sexually after the one time he tried.

It takes you a while to make the most peace that you can with James, but it happens eventually because you don't have a choice.

The loneliness starts to drive you mad otherwise.

You are helping him with his farming one day when you collapse.

James isn't happy to find out that you haven't had any of your daily water intake for the day.

After he is sure you are hydrated, it is punishment time because caring for yourself is also a rule you are supposed to never break.

Your ass is red and seething by the time he's done. Everything is pretty much routine except that you don't sit up to apologize and maybe hug him like usual.

Not even when he pats your ass to signal that he's done.

"H- Hubby?" You sniffle as you use the endearment.

It had been a proud discovery of yours.

James always gave in a little whenever you used it.

"Yes, little mouse?" You bite your lips as your thighs tremble.

Fuck.

"Y- You say we are husband and wife…"

"What about it?"

You bite your lip as you push your ass out and towards him, letting your legs part.

"Then why don't we act like it?" James is good at concealing his emotions and showing restraint.

But he can't help the way his cock hardens at the sight your pretty red thighs reveal to him.

Your perfect pussy is glistening with your creamy arousal, the entrance of your vagina blinking to indicate its need to be filled.

Fuck.

Though James starts off small and slow with his fingers rubbing your cunt, the night ends with him balls deep into your pussy with his length rearranging your organs.

Whatever was left of you to own for him, he does so after that night.

You cannot go on for long without having some sort of physical proximity to him.

The sex is wild and it's amazing with his stamina.

It is also instrumental in bringing you two closer than ever.

James opens up to you slowly, but only when you ask about it.

You had done so in the past as well.

But since it's genuine curiosity now, he feels comfortable telling you all about it.

It is a lot for you to take in and you almost don't believe him until he shows you some of his belongings from his time.

Things drift on as smoothly for a while as the waves outside your house.

And then comes the ultimate test.

Which decides the course of your future with him.

He is still asleep one morning when you wake up.

It isn't a usual occurrence.

But you had introduced him to comics lately and he had been obsessed with them despite claiming that they were too childish and unrealistic.

While he had a metal arm himself…

You adjust the quilt before getting ready for the day and heading out to make breakfast.

It is when you realize in panic that there aren't any apples left even though James had asked you to make a grocery list (that started when he started trusting you more) and you had assured him that you had enough apples for a while.

"I am gonna get the hairbrush today, I swear to God!" You mutter to yourself as you rush through the house like a headless chicken.

Thankfully, your garden had an apple tree so you could save yourself from a breakfast spanking at the very least.

But something standing next to the dock catches your attention before you can the apples you try to budge free from their branches.

A motorboat.

Before you can decide what you think of it, you are standing next to it on the dock.

It has fuel and a map. The key is in the ignition.

You narrow your eyes and feel your head splitting.

A lot goes through your mind.

Flashbacks play before your eyes.

It is almost a full circle moment.

And then you are standing in front of James who is seated on a stool next to the kitchen counter you use for dining.

His head is lowered as he sips on his coffee and stabs at the breakfast you prepared with a fork.

"Hubby?" Your captor freezes before he slowly looks up at you.

The blue of his eyes is troubled. He is in disbelief. As though he wasn't expecting you to be standing here.

"There is a boat outside. Do you think someone could be–"

"You didn't leave." His voice is heavy.

"What kind of a wife leaves her home?"

You two just stare at each other for a while.

No words exchanged.

Then, for the first time ever, James gets up and hurriedly closes the distance between you two, enveloping you in his arms before pushing you against the wall behind you.

"I felt so angry and wronged that I thought I could take anything because I deserved it after everything that happened to me but… I love you too much, mouse."

He has never spoken this earnestly before.

"I just realized that I do too."

James kisses you passionately before you wrap yourself around him and close your eyes blissfully.

He tightens his own arms around you gladly.

He would have hated to end up back on square one with you had you chosen to try and escape.

The boat would have blown up a small fuse that would have been loud enough for his enhanced hearing if someone– you, were to turn the keys in the ignition.

Yes, he wasn't expecting you to be back but only too soon.

It was a test and you passed.

As always, James stuck to his ways and rewarded you for being such a good wife.

By giving you a ring, a new wardrobe and a baby that was the first of many to come.

What do you think hAH-

5K notes · View notes

flvvffy · 10 days ago

Text

. ۫ ꣑ৎ . ❝ 𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐅𝐄𝐂𝐓 𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐘 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐀𝐑𝐄... ❞

summary: suguru geto comforts chubby!reader, letting her know that she is loved and appreciated despite her insecurities

suguru adored you ever since the day he laid eyes on you. how could he not? you were breathtakingly beautiful, easy on the eyes and the your amazing personality was just another wonderful bonus.

suguru expressed his love for you in the ways he knew how. rushing to the store when you urgently needed something. offering his honest opinion when you asked. having an extra hair tie in case you needed one. he did everything he could to make you know that you are loved and appreciated.

you loved him too...deeply. he made you feel comfortable in your own skin than anyone else ever did. but sometimes...you felt that maybe changing yourself for him was for the better.

pretty girls with slim bodies were plastered everywhere you went. bill boards and social media more specifically. dressed in hot bikinis that you always hesitated to wear infront of suguru.

you were sure they never struggled to find the right bra that neither dug painfully into thier shoulders nor have cups too big. the right jeans that fit both their tummies and thick thighs, that actually allowed the possibility to breathe and not feel so self-conscious in public. shirts that looked stylish and trendy but comfortable.

you started to hate the way the seams dug into your skin, the way your reflection felt like a stranger's. you started to hate how you needed to plan your outfits like puzzles. never too tight, never too baggy. just enough to hide the parts you didn't like.

obsessively staring at yourself in the mirror. making a note of all the imperfections on your body. the stretch marks on your stomach, hips and swell of your breasts. the ways your thighs always touched. often thinking 'i know he loves me...i know that...but maybe he'd love me more if i wasn't... fat...'.

you wanted to let suguru know how you felt. but how? this wasn't a topic you were comfortable with. as much as you liked being around him, you couldn't help but feel too big, too noticable. especially when there were so many other girls out there, that were prettier, more skinnier and...perfect for him. your insecurities slapping you in the face whenever it crossed your mind

"I wanna start going to the gym...with you". you stated randomly as you were in his apartment, just casually, silently hoping that he wouldn't ask further questions. but you underestimated how much he pays attention to you.

"why the sudden interest?", his brow raised. shifting his attention for a short while from his phone to you

"i just wanted to try something new. you make it look so fun and easy", you reason but he still didn't seem to understand.

"it's not as fun as you think, pretty...you have to stay consistent"

"i can do that", he gave you a wary look and set his phone aside, attention fully on you.

"where is this coming from?", you shrunk back into the cushions, controlling your expression, hoping that he wouldn't catch up on your true intentions.

"just curious to know how it is...", he squinted his eyes at you and shook his head just a little. a sign that he wasn't, at all, convinced.

"you never want to try something new. you're the only person I know who despises change. you also told me that the gym seems like too much"

"people change", you shrugged.

"not you...you can tell me anything, you know that...". suguru's eyes showed concern. he placed his hand on yours the other tilted your chin to look at him. your throat felt dry. getting harder to swallow as he stared at you with such loving soft eyes.

"do you...", pause. "do you think i'm...beautiful?". silence follows. he looked deeper into your eyes, searching for sincerity in then. and you let him.

"you're the most beautiful girl in the world. of course i think you are", a small smile is plastered on his lips but you don't believe him...not yet...

"you don't have to lie to me...", his brows creased. his hand slid down to your shoulder and squeezed a bit.

"is it really so hard to believe. you are beautiful. has anyone made you feel like you're not?"

you shake your head, no. "i just feel like things would be better for me...for us if i was...skinnier"

"oh, baby...", he pulled you against his chest, his large hands cradled your head. you wanted to push him away. away from yourself...but you didn't...didn't have the heart to. so you wrapped your arms around his waist. your cheek pressed against his chest, the smell of his cologne invaded your nostrils, wrapping around you like a memory--sharp, warm...familiar

"there is nothing wrong with you, honey. everything about you is so elegant and astounding sometimes i think...that you're way out of my league.", you slapped his chest playfully and he kisses the top of your head.

"i go crazy whenever i see you. they way you carry yourself is just so...magical. i wanna nuzzle into you every time we cuddle. you're warm and you always make me feel so much better after such a long day. that beautiful smile of yours, your comfortable weight on top of me makes me wanna show you off to the entire world", he pulled back to look at you. your eyes a little watery.

he cupped your cheeks and placed a soft kiss on your forehead. "there is nothing that you need to fix for the world, but the world needs to fix itself for you". a tear slid down your cheek and he wiped it away with his thumb. you were smiling now, your cheeks heated and heart full from his words alone.

suguru leaned in, sealing his lips with yours in a passionate kiss. eyes closed. heart thumping loudly in your ears as your tongues danced together. hands roamed around the other's bodies until he pulled away. catching your breathes as he pressed his forehead to yours and whispered:

"you're beautiful in ways you can't always see...and don't you forget that"

. ۫ ꣑ৎ . 𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐒 𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐄𝐃 © 𝐅𝐋𝐕𝐕𝐅𝐅𝐘

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yukkiji · 30 days ago

Text

don't go

after seven years of quiet devotion, a devoted secretary’s sudden resignation forces her boss to confront feelings he’s long buried. as boundaries blur and truths unravel, they both must face what’s really been hiding beneath the surface—before it’s too late.

haikyuu masterlist. leave a little stardust on my ko-fi

starring. kuroo testuro x fem!reader

genre: fluff, romance, slowburn, workplace romance, mild angst

wc: 6.8k

author's note: i was rewatching what's wrong with secretary kim earlier and an idea popped up, so this inspired by that kdrama and i think kuroo would fit sm

he early morning light filtered softly through the blinds of the japan volleyball association’s sports promotion division office, casting long shadows across the sleek desks and polished floors. the usual hum of printers and quiet chatter was absent; you were the first to arrive.

your heels clicked softly against the tile as you made your way to kuroo’s office — a glass-walled space at the corner, where the city skyline stretched wide behind his desk. the room smelled faintly of coffee and leather, a quiet comfort you’d come to know over the years.

you’d been with kuroo tetsurō for seven years. not in any romantic sense — he had been your boss from the very beginning, ever since he took over as head of the sports promotion division at the jva.

in your hand was the cream envelope you’d carefully written months ago, folding it with the hope and fear of a secret finally set free. until now, you hadn’t found the courage to give it to him.

inside, kuroo sat at his desk, black hair tousled as if he’d just rolled out of bed, a half-empty mug of coffee at his side. his eyes were fixed on a spreadsheet, brow furrowed in that familiar way — either deep in work, or avoiding something you weren’t sure you wanted to ask about.

he looked up as you stepped in. the usual smirk that played on his lips was gone, replaced by something quieter — curiosity, maybe a little caution.

“morning,” you said, voice steady despite the flutter in your chest.

“morning,” he replied, eyes narrowing slightly. “early.”

you moved forward and placed the envelope carefully on his desk. “i need to talk.”

kuroo leaned back, fingers steepled. “about?”

you hesitated, heart caught for a moment before meeting his steady gaze.

“about me leaving.”

the words hung between you, fragile and weighty.

kuroo’s eyes darkened, but he said nothing right away.

“this is sudden.”

“that’s why i’m giving my advance notice,” you said. “traditionally it’s two weeks, but i don’t want to leave right before the all-stars match. so, i’ll stay through the all-stars, and then i’ll be gone.”

he was quiet for a long moment, taking it in. finally, voice low but steady:

“seven years. feels like you just started yesterday.”

you swallowed hard, the weight of those years pressing down.

“i know. and i’m really grateful for everything you’ve given me, kuroo-san.”

he raised a brow, “so, you’re leaving to work as a secretary for someone else?”

you shook your head. “no. i’m planning to continue my master’s degree abroad, and after that, i want to find new opportunities. it’s not about working for someone else.”

“i could put you on indefinite leave if you want to keep studying,” he said, voice a little firmer now.

you sighed quietly. sometimes he could be frustratingly stubborn. he was one of the smartest people you knew — but somehow, when it came to things like this, he just didn’t get it.

“tetsu.”

you rarely used his first name, and when you did, it had weight. he fell silent.

“i want to grow. to see the world. to be more than this.”

“but—”

“no buts. once the all-stars match is over, that’s final.”

the room fell still again. the tension between you was thick but unspoken.

the next morning, the office was quieter than usual, the calm before the whirlwind of travel and events. you sat at your desk, finalizing the itinerary for the all-stars trip. your laptop screen was filled with flight details, hotel bookings, and meeting times — meticulous planning, the kind you’d grown used to over seven years.

kuroo stopped by your desk, glancing at the screen without really looking. “everything set for poland?”

you nodded, tapping the keyboard. “yeah, flight’s booked. we land in warsaw late evening. ushijima’s team is arriving the next day. i coordinated with him yesterday — he wants to go over the schedule before the first practice.”

kuroo stretched, eyes lingering on you for a moment before returning to his coffee mug. “you’ve been handling this kind of stuff since day one. you make it look easy.”

you offered a small smile, but it didn’t quite reach your eyes. “it’s not easy. just… familiar.”

he nodded thoughtfully, then gestured to the envelope still tucked in your desk drawer. “have you thought more about giving that to me?”

you paused, fingers hovering over the keyboard. “soon. after the all-stars. i want to focus on this trip first.”

kuroo didn’t press further. instead, he tapped the desk lightly. “we’re lucky to have you on this trip. it’ll be chaotic, but with you organizing, it’ll be smooth.”

“that’s the plan,” you said, eyes flickering to the window. outside, the city pulsed quietly beneath the morning sun — a reminder of everything waiting beyond these walls.

“i’ll meet you at the airport tomorrow,” kuroo added. “we’ve got a long flight ahead.”

you nodded, closing your laptop and standing. “i’ll finish packing tonight.”

as you walked away, kuroo watched you go, a quiet tension lingering in the space between you — unspoken words, and the knowledge that everything was about to change.

the meeting with ushijima in warsaw was surprisingly swift — the schedule and logistics fell into place far more easily than you’d expected. ushijima’s straightforward “yes” to the plans left no room for drawn-out discussions or delays.

kuroo glanced at you as you packed away the last of the documents. “well, that was faster than anticipated.”

you smiled tiredly. “it’s good news, though. means we can get ahead of schedule.”

after a quick check-in with the team and confirming the next steps, kuroo pulled out his phone and started coordinating the next leg of the trip.

“rome’s next,” he said, scrolling through flight options. “we’ll meet kageyama there, finalize his part of the all-stars lineup.”

you nodded, already feeling the familiar tug of excitement mixed with exhaustion. “i’ll update the itinerary and notify the others.”

with the poland stop shorter than planned, you both headed to the airport again, the rhythm of travel resuming.

as the plane soared toward italy, you leaned back in your seat, eyes on the city lights far below, thinking about how this whirlwind trip was slowly drawing to a close — and how much had changed along the way.

meeting up with kageyama was just as swift as with ushijima. the setter barely hesitated before agreeing to join the all-stars match — officially for the event, but everyone knew there was more to it.

“i’m in,” kageyama said simply, eyes sharp but with the faintest hint of a smile when kuroo mentioned the chance to see the old team again.

“don’t think you’re just doing it for us,” kuroo teased, earning a quick glare from kageyama.

“i’m not admitting anything,” kageyama replied dryly. “but yeah, it’s been a while.”

you exchanged a glance with kuroo, the easy camaraderie between them reminding you of all the years woven into these relationships.

“then it’s settled,” you said, closing your folder. “next up — argentina.”

kuroo nodded, already pulling up the flight details on his phone. “hinata and oikawa will be waiting.”

as you prepared to move on, the quiet momentum of the trip pressed forward, each stop bringing the team closer — and you closer to the end of this chapter.

the warm san juan air greeted you as you stepped off the plane, the golden light of late afternoon casting a soft glow over the city’s terracotta rooftops and bustling streets. the scent of fresh bread mingled with the faint hum of distant music drifting from open windows. it was a world away from the ordered calm of tokyo, yet somehow familiar — a reminder of the many places volleyball had taken you over the years.

waiting near the curb was oikawa, effortlessly poised as always. his sharp eyes caught yours immediately, a playful smile already tugging at the corners of his lips.

“look who finally made it,” he said smoothly, stepping forward with that easy confidence he always carried. “a fellow seijoh alum. honestly, i wasn’t expecting you to show up here.”

you returned his smile, a little amused despite yourself. “oikawa-san. it has been a while.”

“way too long,” he agreed, folding his arms with a grin. “but no hesitation here. count me in for the all-stars. right away.”

you blinked in surprise at his quick agreement. before you could respond, he added with a teasing tilt of his head, “and hey, while you’re here… maybe we should go on a date. catch up properly.”

he leaned in slightly, that familiar mischievous glint in his eyes making the air between you feel charged for a moment.

from the side, kuroo’s hand shot out, smacking oikawa’s head away before he could get any closer. “hey, back off.”

oikawa chuckled, rubbing the spot on his head with a grin. “relax, kuroo. i’m just teasing. but seriously, i’m in for the all-stars. no questions asked.”

kuroo smirked, eyes locked on oikawa with that sharp, competitive edge he always had.

you cleared your throat, stepping between them to break the rising tension. “let’s focus on the preparations. there’s a lot to coordinate before the match.”

oikawa’s eyes sparkled with mischief as he glanced between you and kuroo. “of course. but you can’t blame me for trying.”

the easy banter reminded you of all the layers beneath—years of rivalry, friendship, and complicated history. as you climbed into the waiting car, the city’s warm glow stretched out before you, the next steps of this journey already unfolding.

finally, the last stop was brazil.

the heat and humidity hit you the moment you stepped off the plane in rio de janeiro. the vibrant city buzzed with life—the distant rhythm of samba echoing through the streets, colorful markets bustling with energy, and the iconic silhouette of christ the redeemer watching over everything from its perch on corcovado.

waiting for you near the arrivals gate was kenma, quiet and unassuming as ever, earbuds in, scrolling on his phone. beside him, kuroo leaned casually against the wall, arms crossed, watching you with that familiar smirk.

“kenma decided to tag along,” kuroo said, eyes flicking to his longtime friend. “he’s one of hinata’s closest friends, so i just let him be.”

kenma glanced up briefly, offering a small, reserved smile before slipping his earbuds out. “hey.”

you returned the greeting, feeling the contrast between kuroo’s brash confidence and kenma’s calm, almost aloof presence. it was a relief in a way—the balance they brought to each other.

“so, this is rio,” you said, taking in the sights and sounds around you. “definitely a change of pace from argentina and italy.”

kenma nodded slightly, “it’s… loud. but it grows on you.”

kuroo laughed softly, shaking his head. “kenma’s way too quiet for a city like this. but he’s useful—good with planning and keeping things under control.”

kenma gave a small shrug, already pulling his earbuds back in.

you glanced at kuroo. “how’s hinata?”

“he’s fired up,” kuroo replied, eyes gleaming with that familiar competitive spark. “this all-stars match means a lot to him—and to all of us.”

the three of you headed toward the car you had booked to take you to the hotel. the city’s vibrant energy buzzed around you, but the exhaustion of travel weighed heavy in your limbs. luckily, hinata had agreed to meet up the following day—the hotel you were staying at was just a short walk from the beach where he usually practiced.

“good timing,” kuroo said with a smirk. “plus, you’re clearly jetlagged. not exactly your best day right now.”

you gave a small laugh, rubbing your eyes. “definitely. i don’t think i’d function well for much longer today.”

kenma glanced over, his calm voice breaking through the hum of traffic. “rest up. the match’s coming fast.”

the car pulled away from the airport, carrying you through rio’s bustling streets toward the hotel. as the sun dipped lower, casting a warm orange glow over the city, you felt the exhaustion finally catch up, the need to recharge before the whirlwind of the all-stars match.

the next morning, the sun was already high when you made your way down to the beach. the salty breeze carried the distant sound of waves crashing and the rhythmic thud of a volleyball hitting sand. your footsteps slowed as you spotted him—shoyo hinata, effortlessly leaping into the air for a spike, his energy infectious even from a distance.

kuroo was nearby, arms crossed, watching with that familiar smirk, but you could tell he was trying to keep up with hinata’s relentless pace.

“hey,” kuroo called as you approached. “ready to catch up with the little giant?”

you nodded, smiling softly. “yeah. it’s been a while.”

hinata landed and jogged over, sweat glistening on his brow but eyes bright. “you made it! didn’t think you’d be this close to my training spot.”

“thought it was a good chance to catch you before the match,” you said.

he grinned, tossing the ball up and down. “cool! maybe you can show me some of your moves?”

you laughed. “you’d be surprised how rusty i am.”

hinata’s grin widened. “doesn’t matter, we’ll make it fun.”

kuroo shifted beside you, clearing his throat. “don’t go easy on them.”

you glanced at kuroo, who was pretending to look away but clearly wasn’t letting the moment slip by. hinata, oblivious to the subtle tension, bounced the ball eagerly.

the morning slipped into afternoon as you all talked and practiced in easy companionship—a brief pause from the hectic schedule ahead.

at one point, you brought up the upcoming all stars match, glancing between kuroo and hinata.

“so, hinata,” you said, “are you really joining the all stars game?”

hinata paused, the ball still in his hands. a broad smile spread across his face. “of course! wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

kuroo chuckled, crossing his arms. “he’s been fired up about it since we first brought it up. guess he’s just excited to play alongside the others again.”

“yeah,” hinata agreed, eyes shining with determination. “plus, it’s a good chance to meet up with old friends—and maybe make some new ones.”

you smiled, glad to see the same fire that had brought all of you together years ago still burning strong.

as the sun began to dip below the horizon, casting warm hues across the sky, you finally returned to your hotel room. your back sank into the soft covers of the bed, and a deep sense of relief washed over you—the project you had dedicated so many months to with kuroo was finally coming together.

just as you were about to close your eyes for a quick nap, a faint knock sounded at the door.

curious, you glanced through the peephole and saw kuroo standing there. he wasn’t in his usual suit and tie; instead, he wore something more casual—an uncommon sight that immediately caught your attention.

you opened the door. “yes, tetsu? do you need something?”

he hesitated briefly. “uhm, i know this is our last night before we head back to japan.”

“i’m aware.”

he ran a hand through his messy black hair. “i’d like to take you out for dinner. you know, to thank you for all your hard work.”

you blinked, surprised by the gesture but quickly nodding. “that sounds nice.”

kuroo’s usual smirk softened just a bit. “good. i’ll wait outside.”

you closed the door behind you, the quiet buzz of the city night just beyond. maybe this trip was already ending, but something felt like it was quietly starting.

the restaurant wasn’t far—just a cozy spot kuroo had discovered during one of his previous trips. the warm lighting and soft chatter inside made it feel worlds away from the busy schedules and long meetings you’d been buried in.

kuroo slid into the seat opposite you, his casual demeanor still holding that unmistakable confidence. “i figured you deserved a break. plus, it’s rare we get time like this.”

you smiled, feeling a surprising ease settle over you. “it’s nice. quiet.”

he nodded, eyes scanning the menu briefly before setting it down. “so, what’s the plan after all this? once you’re back in japan?”

you hesitated, then shook your head. “still figuring that out. continuing my studies abroad is the priority, but after that… i want to explore. see where i fit.”

kuroo studied you, expression unreadable for a moment. “sounds like you’re ready for something new.”

“yeah,” you said softly. “i think i am.”

the conversation drifted to lighter things—memories from past projects, awkward moments during travel, the subtle quirks of some of the players you’d met. kuroo’s usual teasing made you laugh, breaking through the tension you hadn’t realized you’d been carrying.

when the meal was over, kuroo stood, offering you his arm in a rare gesture. “shall we head back?”

as you stepped out of the restaurant, the cool night air wrapped around you both. kuroo kept his arm loosely around your shoulders—a quiet contrast to his usual confident, sometimes sharp demeanor.

“you know,” he began, voice low, “if you think about it, maybe you don’t have to leave.”

you glanced at him, surprised by the sudden seriousness. “what do you mean?”

he shrugged, trying to play it off like it was casual. “i mean, you’ve been here for seven years. you know the ins and outs better than anyone. you’re an important part of this team—and honestly, i don’t know how i’d manage without you.”

you bit your lip, looking away for a moment. “it’s not that simple, kuroo. i want to grow. see new things. this place… it’s comfortable, but maybe too much so.”

kuroo’s gaze didn’t waver. “comfort isn’t a bad thing. sometimes it means you’ve found the right place. maybe you’re looking for something that’s been here all along.”

you sighed softly, torn between the pull of new horizons and the weight of familiarity.

“think about it,” he said, voice quieter now, “there’s still a lot we can do together here. the all stars match is just the beginning.”

you met his eyes again, the challenge clear.

“i’ll think about it,” you said finally, a small smile breaking through.

kuroo’s smirk returned, just a little softer than usual. “that’s all i’m asking.”

kuroo walked you back to the hotel, the quiet streets glowing softly under the city lights. the night air was cool, but not uncomfortable—just enough to keep the moment lingering between you.

when you reached your door, you paused, the usual calmness suddenly giving way to something unexpected. without thinking, you leaned up quickly and pressed a soft kiss to kuroo’s cheek.

you pulled back instantly, eyes wide in surprise at your own boldness. “sorry… that was—i don’t know where that came from.”

kuroo froze for a beat, then a slow, unreadable smile curved at the corner of his lips. “huh. didn’t expect that.”

you hurried inside, closing the door quietly behind you.

but just down the hall, kenma—who’d been passing by—caught the whole thing from a crack in his door. a small grin tugged at his lips as he shook his head.

“kuroo,” kenma called softly with a teasing edge, “looks like someone finally got to you.”

kuroo’s dark eyes flashed, half-annoyed, half-amused. “shut up, kenma.”

kenma chuckled as he retreated into his room, leaving kuroo standing there with a rare flicker of something unspoken in his expression.

the morning after that quiet, fragile moment in rio, everything between you and kuroo felt like a glass ornament balanced on the edge of a shelf — delicate, one wrong move from shattering.

as you packed your suitcase in the hotel room, the kiss you pressed to his cheek replayed in your mind like a loop you couldn’t break. it had been impulsive, heat-of-the-moment. but it left behind a trail of confusion — not just for him, but for you. something small… that meant something too big to name.

at breakfast, you kept your eyes trained on your plate, pushing scrambled eggs around without appetite. kuroo sat across from you, unusually quiet. his gaze was steady, searching, like he was waiting for something — a glance, a word, a sign that the tension wasn’t all in his head.

you gave him none of it.

the ride to the airport was worse. you sat by the window, chin resting on your hand, watching rio blur past. kuroo was beside you, but miles away. his arms were crossed, his posture rigid. he didn’t speak — not a word — and you didn’t offer any. the silence between you had become its own language. one of evasion. one of grief.

and once you were back in japan, it only deepened. the office felt colder, though the air conditioner wasn’t to blame. kuroo had always been your rhythm, your banter, your tether — the rare constant in years of change. but now… he barely approached unless it was strictly work-related. and when he did try — small talk, coffee offers, questions — you sidestepped them with a tired smile and excuses that grew thinner by the day.

you could see the growing frustration in his eyes. the way his voice would falter mid-sentence. the way he would look at you, like trying to decipher a version of you that no longer made sense.

and yet… you kept pulling away.

until one afternoon, he couldn’t take it anymore.

he leaned against the edge of your desk — no smirk, no charm, just rawness simmering behind his eyes. “alright, what is this?”

you glanced up from your keyboard, startled. “what—?”

“this,” he repeated. “you. me. the avoidance. the one-word answers. i feel like i’m talking to a ghost.”

you sighed. “kuroo, i told you, i’m just tired.”

“no,” he snapped. “no, don’t give me that. you’ve been dodging me since rio. since—” he stopped himself, jaw tightening. “since the kiss.”

you looked away, guilt threading its way through your chest.

he stepped closer. “is this your way of making me get used to you not being around? of trying to make it easier to leave? because guess what? it’s not.”

you swallowed. “it’s not like that.”

“then what the hell is it?” his voice cracked just slightly. “because you’re pushing me out and pretending like it’s nothing. like we’re nothing.”

you stood then, trying to steady your voice. “i don’t want things to get messy. that’s all.”

his laugh was short. bitter. “too late for that, don’t you think?”

the silence after that was deafening.

days passed. weeks. and even as the all stars game loomed — the thing you’d both poured yourselves into — the wedge between you grew colder. wider.

then came the morning of the game.

the stadium buzzed with anticipation. lights gleamed from above, echoing across polished floors. journalists hovered, volunteers bustled, and the energy was electric.

but inside you, it all felt hollow.

you stood quietly off to the side, scanning the players as they warmed up. your eyes paused on kuroo, who laughed at something bokuto said, but the smile didn’t reach his eyes. you recognized that smile — the one he wore when something was bothering him.

when he spotted you, he made his way over, stopping a few feet away.

“you know,” he said, voice low, “this is technically your last day.”

you didn’t answer.

he ran a hand through his hair, hesitating. “look, i’m not asking for a dramatic goodbye. i just thought—after everything—we’d at least talk. really talk.”

you shook your head, arms crossed tightly. “there’s nothing to talk about.”

he stared at you, stunned. “that’s it? you’re really going to pretend like this—like we—never meant anything?”

you bit your lip, staying silent. if you said anything, it would all come undone.

kuroo’s breath caught. “you know, i thought brazil… i thought maybe that meant something.”

his voice dropped, thick with something too close to pain. “guess i was wrong.”

you turned your face away, not trusting yourself to look him in the eye.

and just like that, he stepped back. “right. well. good luck with your next chapter.” his voice was flat now. guarded. wounded.

as he turned to walk away, something inside you ached. but you stayed still. you had to. you had to.

the all stars game was a dazzling success.

the arena was electric — packed stands, camera flashes, thunderous cheers. the players put on a show worthy of the hype, the kind of match that lived up to everything kuroo had worked for. there were handshakes, interviews, confetti, and smiles.

but none of it registered for him.

not when he looked toward the sidelines and didn’t see you.

you’d disappeared right after the closing ceremony. no lingering in the hallway, no small talk, no casual teasing over the mic setups or souvenir programs. just a polite wave to the event staff, a tight smile, and a quiet excuse:

“i need to head back to the office. some final reports i need to tie up.”

you didn’t even meet his eyes when you said it. and you didn’t wait for him to respond.

so now he sat in a corner booth of a dim izakaya, flanked by familiar voices and fading adrenaline. his old nekoma team had rallied around him — yaku, kai, lev, kenma — all of them still buzzing from the excitement of the match, still glowing in the aftermath of the spotlight.

but kuroo? he nursed a highball and stared into the glass like it could give him answers.

“she really didn’t come?” yaku asked, glancing around as he sipped his beer.

kenma didn’t even look up from his phone. “she said she was heading back. didn’t want to join.”

kuroo let out a soft scoff under his breath. “of course she didn’t.”

kai gave him a look. “you okay?”

kuroo swirled the ice in his glass. “do i look okay?”

lev blinked. “did something happen between you two?”

there was a beat of silence before kuroo leaned back against the booth, head tilting toward the ceiling. his voice was low, but bitter.

“yeah. something happened. and then… nothing.”

he downed half his drink in one go before setting the glass down with a quiet thud. “we spent seven years building all this. not just work — us. the routines, the coffee breaks, the 2 a.m. calls about budgets, the flights, the after-conference ramen. seven years.”

kai frowned. “you sound like you lost something.”

“because i did,” kuroo muttered. “i just didn’t realize it was already slipping away.”

kenma finally looked up. “she didn’t say anything?”

“she kissed me,” kuroo said abruptly, and the table went still. “in rio. just before we left. it wasn’t dramatic. just… a kiss. on the cheek.”

yaku’s eyes widened slightly. “wait, she—?”

“and then she shut me out,” kuroo continued, voice flat. “stopped talking to me. treated me like i was just another person in the room. and today? on her last day? she wouldn’t even have a conversation.”

kenma tilted his head. “you tried?”

kuroo let out a humorless laugh. “i told her. i said it was her last day, that we should talk. she looked me in the eye and said it wasn’t the right time.”

lev blinked. “maybe she was just overwhelmed?”

“no,” kuroo snapped, then softened. “no. she meant it. she chose not to say anything. she chose to walk away.”

he stared down at his hands for a moment. they were steady — they always were. but he felt anything but.

“i asked her if she was trying to get me used to not having her around. because it feels like she’s been practicing. piece by piece.”

there was something cracked in his voice now — not rage, not even heartbreak. just the quiet weight of disappointment. of something unfinished.

yaku leaned forward. “so what are you going to do?”

kuroo gave a small shake of his head. “what can i do? she’s gone. she made that choice. i didn’t even get a goodbye.”

kai sighed, rubbing his temples. “maybe she thought it’d hurt more if she said it out loud.”

“it hurts either way.”

kuroo’s voice was soft, but it landed hard. even lev had nothing to add.

“she made me feel like it meant something,” he said. “then acted like it never happened. so brazil… all of it… was nothing to her.”

no one contradicted him. no one tried to spin it into something more hopeful.

because in that moment, kuroo looked like a man standing alone in the ruins of something he didn’t know he’d built until it was already burning down.

the table fell into silence again, the buzz of the izakaya fading to the background. laughter from other booths echoed faintly, clinking glasses and upbeat music drifting through the air like a distant world they weren’t part of tonight.

kuroo stared at the condensation on his glass, jaw clenched.

“she didn’t even say goodbye,” he said again, softer this time. “not really.”

the ice in kuroo’s glass had long since melted, leaving behind watered-down remnants of his second or maybe third highball. he couldn’t tell anymore. time felt loose and strange around the edges, like the inside of his chest.

the others had fallen into soft conversation again — yaku arguing with lev about something stupid, kai offering quiet mediations between bites of karaage. kenma had retreated back into his phone, thumbs tapping away, a human metronome to the chaos around him.

but kuroo sat still. not drunk. not really. just… tired. in his bones. in his head. and most of all, in the hollowed-out place you used to sit inside his routine.

he stood abruptly, pushing his chair back with a scrape.

kenma’s eyes flicked up. “you leaving?”

kuroo didn’t answer right away. he rubbed at his eyes with the heel of his palm, then looked at his best friend with a new kind of determination cutting through the fog.

“kenma,” he said. “can you drive me?”

kenma blinked. “drive you where?”

“to the jva building.”

kenma stared. “it’s almost midnight.”

“she’s still there,” kuroo said. “she’s still working. i know her.”

yaku looked up. “wait, seriously? you’re going to the office now?”

lev perked up. “can we come—”

“no,” kuroo cut in, sharper than intended. then, after a breath: “no. i need to do this alone.”

kenma watched him for a long moment, then slipped his phone into his pocket with a sigh. “you better not throw up in my car.”

kuroo gave a small, breathless laugh. “i won’t.”

it was the most alive he’d sounded all night.

the ride was quiet. tokyo’s streets were washed in neon and silence, the late hour blurring the usual noise of the city. kenma drove with one hand on the wheel, the other occasionally adjusting the radio volume when it dipped too loud. he didn’t ask questions. he didn’t need to.

kuroo sat in the passenger seat, leaning his forehead against the cool window glass. his fingers tapped restlessly against his knee.

“you think she’s still there?” kenma asked, finally breaking the silence.

“she’s meticulous,” kuroo murmured. “even when she’s breaking my heart, she’s probably making sure all her files are sorted. i just… i have to try.”

kenma didn’t say anything, but he didn’t argue either.

when they pulled up in front of the building, the lights on the upper floor were still on.

kuroo’s heart kicked hard against his ribs.

“i’ll wait in the car,” kenma said, glancing over. “go do whatever dramatic, heartbroken boss thing you need to do.”

kuroo huffed a quiet laugh. “thanks.”

he stepped out into the cool night air, running a hand through his hair as he crossed the empty lobby. the building was dead quiet — even the usual security staff had dimmed the lights and nodded him in without a word. everyone knew who he was here.

of course they did. he built this place with you.

his shoes echoed down the hallway, every step like a countdown.

he found your office exactly where it always was — lights still on, your silhouette hunched over your desk through the frosted glass. your coat was draped over the back of your chair. your laptop screen cast a pale glow across your tired face.

you hadn’t left yet.

kuroo stood there for a second, just watching.

and then, with a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding, he raised his hand and knocked.

once. twice.

you looked up slowly, your eyes widening as soon as you saw him.

then your expression shuttered.

you didn’t say anything as he opened the door and stepped inside.

but your voice, when it came, was wary. guarded.

“kuroo… what are you doing here?”

he closed the door behind him.

and the room suddenly felt too small for all the things he hadn’t said.

you stared at him, a hollow pit forming in your stomach.

he looked disheveled — like he’d run here without thinking. his tie hung lopsided, shirt untucked at the back, the sleeves slightly wrinkled. his hair, always messily stylish, now looked more storm-tossed than deliberate. and his eyes — god, his eyes — were shining with something too raw, too real to name.

“what are you doing here, kuroo?” you asked, quieter this time, arms crossing instinctively like you could shield yourself from the weight between you. “you should be out celebrating. the game was a success. you did it.”

he didn’t smile.

“i couldn’t celebrate,” he muttered, stepping into the glow of your desk lamp. “not when all i could think about was you packing up your things. leaving without a word. again.”

your breath caught. the last time you'd seen him, you hadn’t said goodbye — just left your resignation on his desk and walked out before the celebration started.

your lips parted, but the words wouldn’t come.

kuroo let out a bitter breath, like he’d been holding it in for days. “i’m such an idiot,” he muttered, dragging a hand through his hair. “i thought giving you space was what you needed. i thought i could wait it out — that you’d come back, like you always did. but i let you drift further away. i let the woman i…” he stopped, jaw tightening. “…the woman i love walk away. because i was too slow. too careful.”

you took a shaky step back, your shoulder hitting the edge of your desk. the sudden pressure grounded you. “kuroo…”

“no,” he said sharply, voice cracking. “i can’t let this end like that. not when i’ve finally figured it out. not when i’m standing here, still wanting you more than anything else in the world.”

“tetsu… you’re drunk,” you said, trying to soften the tremble in your voice. “did you… did you drive here like this?”

the worry cracked through the tension, sharp and instinctive.

kuroo blinked at you, then immediately shook his head. “no—no, i didn’t. kenma drove me.” he swallowed hard. “he said i’d regret it if i didn’t go after you. and he was right.”

you exhaled shakily, the thought of him on the road drunk knotting your stomach. “god, kuroo, you scared me.”

“i know. i didn’t think, i just—” he stepped forward again. “i just knew i couldn’t let you leave like that. not without telling you what i should’ve told you a long time ago.”

you watched him, silent, heart thudding in your chest like it wanted to crawl out of your ribs.

“i love you,” he said, more softly now — like it hurt to admit. “and i should’ve told you in brazil. or when we were in argentina, laughing over shitty hotel food in the hallway. hell, maybe back when you used to bring me coffee during those overnight meetings just because you knew i’d forget to eat.”

you turned your face away, throat tight.

“but i didn’t,” he continued, his voice trembling now. “because i was afraid. because i didn’t want to ruin everything we built. and now? not saying anything ruined it anyway.”

“tetsu…”

he braced his hands on either side of you, leaning on your desk — close enough to feel his breath, but still not touching you. still giving you room.

“i know i messed up,” he said. “and i know i don’t get to ask you to stay. but if there’s even a sliver of you that still wants me too—if there’s even a flicker of us left—i’m not walking away. not without a fight.”

you blinked quickly, trying to stop the tears that had started gathering behind your eyes.

“why now?” you asked, barely a whisper.

kuroo let out a breath like the question gutted him. “because i saw your empty desk tonight. and it felt like someone had punched a hole through me. it felt like everything was darker. quieter. wrong.”

you bit your lip hard. “but what if it doesn’t work out?”

“then it doesn’t,” he said simply, shoulders rising and falling in a shaky breath. “but at least we’ll know. at least i won’t have to spend the rest of my life wondering what might’ve happened if i’d just opened my damn mouth.”

he reached for your hand then — slow, hesitant — brushing his fingers over yours like he didn’t deserve even that.

“i don’t want to go back to pretending,” he said. “i don’t want to keep acting like i don’t look for you in every room. like i don’t ache when you’re not there.”

the silence in the office felt deafening — the kind that settles when something important is about to happen.

“i love you,” he repeated, quieter now. “even if i am drunk. i’d say it again tomorrow. and the day after that.”

your fingers trembled as you reached for him, finally lacing your hand with his. and the way kuroo’s body sagged — like he’d been holding up an entire building on his shoulders — made your heart twist.

“i love you too.”

the words left before you could stop them, raw and fragile, but real.

kuroo blinked at you, like he didn’t believe what he heard. “you—what?”

“i love you, tetsu,” you said, clearer now. “that’s what scares me the most.”

he stared at you like he didn’t know whether to cry or kiss you.

“then why were you going to leave?” he asked hoarsely. “why didn’t you tell me?”

you looked down, unable to meet his eyes. “because i don’t know who i am outside of this. this job. this team. you. i’ve spent seven years orbiting you, kuroo. i needed to know i could stand on my own without falling apart.”

you glanced up to see him flinch, like your honesty physically hurt.

“i thought if i stayed, i’d never learn who i was without you,” you added softly. “and that scared me.”

he didn’t speak right away. when he finally did, it was almost a whisper.

“you thought loving me meant giving up yourself.”

you nodded once, and his eyes shuttered.

“i won’t be the reason you stay small,” he said. “but don’t think for a second that i won’t love you while you grow. even if you grow away from me.”

you bit your lip, hard. “i want to be with you. but i’m still scared.”

“then be scared,” he said, cupping your cheek, voice fraying at the edges. “be terrified. i am too. but don’t walk away thinking you have to do it alone.”

you exhaled shakily. “it’s going to be messy.”

“good,” he murmured. “i like messy.”

you laughed — a broken, breathless sound — and kuroo leaned in slowly, like he still expected you to push him away.

but you didn’t.

you rose on your toes, fingers fisting in the fabric of his shirt, and kissed him.

it was tentative at first — searching, unsure — but it deepened quickly, years of repressed feelings rushing to the surface all at once. his hand cradled the back of your neck, the other pressing into the curve of your waist like he was afraid you’d disappear again.

and when you pulled away — breathless, eyes stinging — his forehead rested against yours, a shaky smile ghosting his lips.

“i thought i lost you,” he whispered.

“you almost did,” you whispered back. “but i didn’t want to be found until i knew who i was without you.”

“and now?” he asked.

you took a breath. “now i want to figure it out with you. slowly. on my terms.”

he nodded, brushing his thumb over your cheek. “then we’ll grow together. messily. slowly. loudly, if we have to.”

you laughed, a soft huff against his mouth.

and when he kissed you again — slower, steadier this time — it felt like a promise.

no longer boss and secretary.

no longer what-ifs and missed chances.

just two people — flawed, frightened, in love — finally finding their way toward something real.

together.

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