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#it's like the universe screaming back at the player
ink-ghoul · 1 year
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do you think that 'lag' is something that physically hurts the player?
like a headache or something?
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bmpmp3 · 11 months
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recently i decided to start playing a new mobile rhythm game as i wait for sif2 to come out in english and a day later i nearly chopped off the top 4mm of my index finger by accident (blanket knitting incident). is the universe itself trying to stop me.
#unfortunately for the universe im a thumbs player so index finger injuries dont change much LOL although because i hold the phone in the#rest of my fingers sometimes i put a little too much pressure on the busted index finger and i need to mel blanc scream#also the knitting incident was very foolish. i was sewing a bunch of knitted squares together into a blanket and accidentally cut#my finger when trying to cut an end. i normally use really dull scissors but these were super sharp so i think i wasnt used to it orz#also the game i started in ensemble stars. i was actually gonna start prosekai but that kept crashing so i had to go with ensemble stars#very fun so far and i really love the art. its also shocking how good the cg is. im a love live person im not used to this kinda quality#mostly started playing because im inexplicably enamored with that little green bitch from edens high note in faith conquest#but the rhythm gameplay is very similar to sif so im having a bit of fun! i'll probably keep playing until i get bored (bad with mobage)#(its a miracle that i had gone through the tutorial before in an attempt to play it a year or so back. i literally hate mobage tutorials so)#(so so so so so so much. its the reason i cant start most mobage i have the tutorials HJFKLDHKJFLDS)#(but i had already done it apparently so i was able to just kinda jump back in)#ALSO the finger seems to be healing fine it is only like 3-4mm and i didnt cut it all the way#so its staying together under a bandaid fine! be careful with ur knitting scissorss
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babydollmarauders · 24 days
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PHASES — LUKE HUGHES
luke hughes x fem!reader
summary: in which luke is pining for the girl he knows he’s destined to be with
notes: 4.3k words. this is a new style of writing for me and i truthfully don’t know about it but it felt right for this fic.
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Luke Hughes knows a lot of things.
he knows hockey. he knows history. and he knows that in this moment, drunk on cheap beer and lip locked with the prettiest girl he’s ever seen, she and he are destined to be together.
but life and love are never simple. drunken hookups between best friends don’t just automatically make them a couple. and no matter how badly he wants to scream that she should be with him, he knows he has to wait it out; give her time to come to the same realization that he did two years ago.
her back digs into the armrest of the battered couch, her legs draped across Luke’s own as his fingertips grip her upper thigh. their faces are drawn together, her hands tangled beautifully in his curls, pulling him closer toward her vodka soaked lips.
“Lukey,” his name rolls off her tongue like a whispered prayer, causing a singular beat to skip in his heart.
“what do you need, doll?”
“you.”
and her singular word is the driving force that brings Luke to his feet, her hand laced with his as he leads her to his bedroom. the people in his apartment cast away from his mind, only one person occupying that space.
her.
surely, Jack can handle the party that he threw, no one would miss Luke.
and that thought is what leads them to his room, their bodies pressed together in mere minutes. the next few hours spent tangled between cotton sheets. his feverish touch making her body shake, and her soft sounds causing an intense sensation of need within him.
hot breath mingles, their lips rarely straying from each others. sweat coated skin sticking together as they christen his bed for the umpteenth time. neither mind clear, they find solace and pleasure with her legs wrapped around his waist and his sloppy thrusts bringing them to the highest points.
and when they call it a night, Luke’s hand slamming the car door shut after she falls into the backseat of an uber, he falls back into the same spot he started the night.
waiting for fate to bring her home to him for the final time.
***
the restaurant feels suffocating, her dress itchy, causing her to wiggle uncomfortably in her chair.
her date doesn’t even seem to notice, rambling on once more about how cool it is that she works for the New Jersey Devils.
“i mean, you must get to be around the players all the time, right? how did you even get that job?” what was this one’s name? Carter? Carson? it started with a C, right?
“i went to University of Michigan. graduated a year early with a degree in sport management, and after working with the hockey team there, i was able to secure a spot working for the Devils.” she smiles, a weak timid thing that barely even reaches her cheeks, “but yeah, i do spend a lot of time around the players. kinda my job to get content of them, ya know?”
maybe-Carter chuckles, nodding his head, “so are you like, friends with any of them?”
‘oh, here we go’ she thinks.
“i went to school with Luke Hughes, he’s kind of my best friend.” it was an instinct really, an involuntary reaction; for a smile to creep across her lips when she talks about Luke, “but i can’t really say much about him or the guys, they’re people too and they deserve their privacy.”
“right, totally respect that,” he nods, his lips falling into a tight line, and she can’t help but notice that they aren’t as pillowy as Luke’s.
his lips don’t nearly look as comforting to kiss. and his curls; they don’t… curl the way Luke’s do. rather he has a head of tighter curls, unlike Luke’s unruly mess of loose curls and waves mingling together. his eyes aren’t the right color either, erring on the side of a blue closer to Jack’s; which makes a shiver run down her spine, discomfort settling within her.
“are you cold?” he asks, catching sight of the goosebumps that spread across her skin. he huffs a condescendingly toned laugh before continuing, “maybe you should’ve brought a jacket, restaurants run cold.”
that was where she drew the line. with his obnoxious attitude combined with his interest, which only peaked when discussing her job, y/n was surprised she lasted as long as she did.
and if the fact that he wasn’t similar enough to her best friend played a small part in her leaving? well, could she really be blamed?
after all, it was Luke’s fault.
it was Luke who made the first move his freshman year of college, both of them tipsy on drinks made by Dylan and his heavy hand with rum. it was Luke who made the sophomore girl fall for him two years ago. it was Luke who drunkenly tells her he loves her as he buries himself inside of her, knowing exactly what to do to tip her over the edge. and it was Luke who has her going on at least five dates a month, trying to force the Devils rookie out of her heart.
or at least, she blames it on Luke; because she couldn’t allow herself to admit that she fell in love with him of her own accord. she can’t allow herself to confess how quickly their drunken hookups turned into something more for her. and she certainly can’t dwell on the fact that she hasn’t put a stop to them. how could she? those are the only moments that she can let herself believe, even for a moment, that she could be his.
because despite how badly she wanted it, she could never be Luke’s. not in the way she wants to be. no matter how hard she tries, she can never find the words to express how much he means to her. how much she loves him.
*
Luke laid on the couch, the springs digging into his back uncomfortably.
“dude, we really need a new couch.” he huffs, “and why am i laying like this? i don’t think people actually lay down in therapy outside of tv shows.”
“shut up, i’m taking notes.” Luke’s eyes drift to his older brother, who occupies the space of the living room chair.
“notes on what? i haven’t even said anything!”
“you don’t need to. i’ve listened to you bitch and moan about y/n for two years, i’m writing what i can remember.” Jack explains, his brows furrowed in focus as his pen scribbles messily across the notepad on his lap.
“why did i let you talk me into this?” Luke rolls his eyes at his brothers antics.
“because you’re pussy-whipped and you’re playing like shit.” Jack looks up from the notepad, straightening his posture and settling his focus on Luke.
“is that a medical diagnosis?” Luke jokes, his brow raising as he chuckles.
“no, that’s brotherly criticism. you get that for free, courtesy of the nine months we each spent in mom’s womb.” Luke cringes at his brothers words, shaking his head.
“don’t talk about mom’s womb.”
“just speak, dude. what’s going on in that curly head of yours?”
Luke sighs, his eyes drifting towards the ceiling. his hands fiddle with the cellphone that lays on his stomach, impatiently waiting for the text that he knows will come through.
it’s 10pm on an off day, he knows she’s got a date tonight. he also knows how her date will end; soon enough she’ll be texting him a long paragraph about how men suck and asking him to remind her why she can’t become a nun.
“well, i told you, i know she and i are meant to be together. i can feel it.” Luke starts, quickly cut off by the familiar grating voice he’s known his entire life.
“yeah, yeah, you’re a simp. move on.”
“has anyone ever told you that you’d make a horrible therapist?” Luke questions, head turning once more toward his brother.
“i can’t say anyone has, no.”
“yeah? well then, i’ll be the first.” he glares, “stick to hockey.”
“just keep talking, Lukey.”
“i think it’s getting harder to wait for her.” Luke confesses, and it feels like a small weight has been lifted off his chest; progress.
“so you wanna move on?” Jack asks, his pen scrawling along the paper again.
“no!” Luke huffs, sitting up on the couch to turn towards his brother, who quickly strikes out whatever he just wrote down, “i’m just saying that- that this whole waiting game is fucking with my head. Phil said i had to wait it out. he told me not to pressure her. practice my patience and let her come to the realization on her own.
“but, what if it goes on too long? she’s always going on dates, what if she meets someone else? what if it takes her ten years to realize what i realized like a month after we met?! what if she gets married before she realizes?”
“too many ‘what if’s’, dude. you’re hurting my brain.” Jack groans, pinching the bridge of his nose.
Luke, already in an emotional spiral, rolls his eyes, “what brain?”
“hey! i’m trying to help you here! don’t insult me!” Jack stands up, notepad falling to the floor and his hands drawing to his hips as he glares at the rookie defenseman.
“well you’re not much help.”
“you want my advice? either keep waiting and playing like shit and making easily avoidable mistakes, or say fuck it to your friends advice and tell her how you feel.”
“i’m going to bed.” Luke grumbles, pushing past the shorter man to go to his room.
“don’t forget, no morning skate tomorrow!” Jack calls out as Luke’s door clicks shut.
as Luke strips down to his boxers, his phone lights up on his bed, vibrating amongst the cotton sheets. and as he sees her name flashing on the screen, butterflies flutter in his core, making him swallow harshly in attempt to stop them.
he doesn’t even get a word out after accepting the call, her voice filtering through the speaker, “men suck.”
“oh yeah?” Luke can’t help but laugh at the repetitive cycle, “tell me more. how do we suck?”
“you just do, okay?” her tone is biting before she takes a sobering breath, “all he wanted to talk about was the team. i could practically see the walls shut down around him once i told him i couldn’t dish out the hot goss on players.”
“i’m sorry, y/n.” he’s not sorry. not even a little.
“remind me why i can’t be a nun?” her voice is distant as she takes the phone away from her ear so that she can unlock her apartment door.
“no tiktok and no sex.” Luke echoes for what feels like the hundredth time.
“right.” she kicks off her shoes, bumping the door shut behind her as her cat darts around between her legs, rubbing against her nylon tights, “you ready for the game tomorrow?”
“yeah.” no.
“good. i’m gonna go eat my weight in ice cream and scroll tiktok. goodnight, Lukey. thanks for the reminder and for listening to me rant.”
“any time. goodnight.”
as Luke lays in bed, he falls asleep with Jack’s advice echoing in his head.
keep waiting and playing like shit and making easily avoidable mistakes, or say fuck it to your friends advice and tell her how you feel.
meanwhile, y/n slumps on her sofa, a pint of ben & jerry’s in her hand as she looks down at the little ball of black fur that’s taken up residence by her feet.
“have you ever been in love, Sir Nightingale?”
the cat blinks back at her, patiently waiting for her attention. which comes in the form of her fingernails scratching lazily under his chin.
“i have.” she continues the one sided conversation, “it fucking sucks. never fall in love.”
***
the game was an absolute shit show.
Luke had taken a shoddy penalty in the first period; for delay of game, out of all things. which lead to a power play goal by the opposing team and leaving the Devils down by two.
it was only about five minutes later that Luke got an assist on a goal of Jack’s, but ultimately, the game still ended six to two, not in the Devils favor. not only did the team get yelled at for their lack of adequate effort, but Luke was singled out for at least two turned over pucks, which lead to opposing team goals.
and to make a bad night even worse, when all was said and done and Luke was finally showered and ready to just go home and wallow in the loss, he left the locker room to find y/n chatting with one of the equipment managers, Ben.
her hair twirled around her finger as she laughed at something Ben said, a red flush on her cheeks. Luke felt deflated, to say the least.
it was always someone else.
never him. never Luke.
he felt overlooked, and perhaps even unnoticed. it was like she never even saw him as an option, only ever the object of her desires when they were both tipsy and horny and already together.
and yet the feeling was still there. settled low within his gut, he still knew; he’s the one for her. he knows. he’s fairly certain that deep down, she knows it too.
is it his age? it’s only a year’s difference, surely it doesn’t matter, right? it was something else. it had to be, but he truly didn’t know what.
“y/n.” his voice carries through the hallway, settling in her ears and catching her attention.
turning towards him with wide doe eyes and parted lips, she smiles, “hey!”
“am i still giving you a ride home?” Luke’s expression is stony, giving nothing of his feelings away. though, he can’t help the way his eyes gravitate to the man behind her, Luke’s blank stare making the man cower just slightly.
and Luke almost felt proud of that. almost.
“actually, i think Ben and i are gonna go for some drinks. i’ll catch up with you tomorrow, yeah?”
his shoulders slump, his posture crumpling the same way his heart did in his chest.
“yeah, see you tomorrow.”
Luke barely gets two steps closer to the arena exit before her voice calls out, stopping him in his tracks. her heels click against the floor as fast as she could move, before she pops up in his vision.
“you played good. a few mistakes are normal, it’s your first full season, the most games you’ve ever played,” her voice is gentle, her eyes peering up at him softly through her wispy lashes, “i’m proud of you. don’t be too hard on yourself, alright?”
her arms wrap around his torso before he can even respond, her face buried in the chest of his suit. and before his heart can reach a normal pace again, before he can wrap his arms around her in return, she’s pulling away.
with a wave of her hand and a small but awe-strikingly beautiful smile playing upon her lips, she’s walking away. back to Ben, who waits for her by the arena exit now.
and once more, Jack’s voice is back inside Luke’s head. driving him absolutely insane as he watches the love of his life walk out of the building, giggling at something another man said.
keep waiting and playing like shit and making easily avoidable mistakes, or say fuck it to your friends advice and tell her how you feel.
*
keep waiting and playing like shit and making easily avoidable mistakes, or say fuck it to your friends advice and tell her how you feel.
tell her how you feel.
tell her how you feel.
tell her how you feel.
“tell her how you feel.” Luke wakes with a startle, his head knocking against his brother’s, who was leaning over him.
Jack curses, hissing in pain as he holds a hand his forehead.
“what the fuck are you doing in my room?” Luke groans, voice groggy as he takes in his surroundings.
“i got up to take a piss and i could hear your phone blowing up all the way from the bathroom,” Jack explains, “shit, you have a bony ass head.”
“it’s called a skull. i know yours doesn’t house anything inside of it, but even i assumed you’d know what it is.”
Jack huffs, rolling his eyes. “ya know what? just for that, i take back my advice. fuck off and die alone, what do i care?”
“why were you giving me advice at-” Luke slides his phone off his nightstand, checking the time, “two in the morning?”
“she’s blowing up your phone.” Jack scowls, “something something men suck something something maybe being a nun is worth the no tiktok?”
Luke feels an odd sense of relief as he looks at his recent texts, finding exactly what Jack had described.
well, without the ‘something something’s.
“pretty sure you were saying her name in your sleep too,” Jack smirks, backing away towards the bedroom door, “tell her how you feel, dickhead. put you both out of your misery so i can get some sleep and not listen to your incessant whining.”
with that, Jack leaves, the wooden door clicking shut in its frame behind him.
reading through the texts, Luke gathers that she and Ben didn’t get very far into the night together, seeing as her messages were still legible, something drunk her could never accomplish.
the thought brings him an unnecessary amount of joy. but then he’s hit with an overwhelming sense of annoyance, remembering he’ll have to go through this process all over again soon.
truthfully, he doesn’t know how much more he can take. he’s not giving up on her, on the contrary, maybe Jack is right. maybe Phil couldn’t give advice for all women and maybe Luke should just stop waiting.
she wasn’t coming to a realization quick enough and honestly, Luke is fucking tired. tired of drunken hookups. tired of listening to her rant about failed dates and sucky guys. tired of being overlooked as an option. tired of his feelings going unnoticed.
the dial tone was ringing in his ear before Luke even realized that he had made a decision, like his hands were working on autopilot. like his heart knew what he would decide before his brain did.
“hey! did i wake you?” her words weren’t slurred, Luke noted. that’s good, she doesn’t even sound tipsy. she’s in a sound state of mind for his confession.
“no,” he shook his head, despite knowing she could see him, “well, yes but no? you didn’t wake me up but Jack did, he could hear my phone buzzing.”
“oh shit, i’m sorry! we can talk tomorrow if you wanna go back to sleep, i’m just about to-”
“i love you,” immediately, Luke is regretting this decision; the silence on the other end of the phone making him bite his lip in anxiety.
“what?” her voice cracks as she giggles, “Luke, are you drunk? did you drink before you went to bed?”
“no,” he groans out, his head dropping back in frustration, “i swear, i haven’t touched any alcohol tonight. just listen to me.”
“i’m always listening to you, Lukey.” her eyes widen as she sits on the edge of her plush bed, “i just don’t understand what you’re saying.”
“i love you,” he repeats, rolling his shoulders in attempt to psych himself back up before he takes a deep breath.
“i’m in love with you. i have been since freshman year. i think that somewhere deep down, you know just as much as i do, that you’re meant to be mine. and i’ve waited two years for you to realize it. i’ve been patient, i’ve held back, i’ve waited on the sidelines while you go out on dates and i’ve listened to you rant about men. and that’s no problem; when i’m done, if you decide you’re still not ready, i’ll continue to wait for you. because even if you’re not mine, i’m yours, y/n. but, i need to get this off my chest and i need you to know that i’m in love with you. my life isn’t complete without yours. and when you’re ready, i’ll be here waiting for you. i’ll always be here. when you’re ready for the drunk hookups to turn into sober love, i’m gonna be right here. because i think that’s our fate. i think that we were destined to find each other and i think we were meant to have this storyline in our love story, and i know that one day you’ll realize it too. you can tell me i’m insane, you can tell me you don’t feel the same, you can even tell me to fuck off, if that’s what you wanna do. i’ll back off, i won’t say another word, but i’ll still be waiting.”
y/n is silent, her hands shaking as she breathes through the tears that roll down her cheeks. in return, Luke is quiet too, patiently waiting for her to digest everything he just confessed. every built up feeling that he just let slip out of him.
“i love you too.” it feels like all the weight she’s been shouldering has been listed off of her with the utterance of those four simple words.
“you do?” he feels like he can’t breathe, like he’s just been knocked against the boards and his lungs forgot how to take in oxygen.
“yes. Luke, why do you think i go on those dates? have you not noticed that almost every guy i go out with resembles you? i didn’t know if you felt the same way, i didn’t know how to tell you how i felt without risking our entire friendship going up in flames. Luke, i’m so fucking in love with you and it hurt. for two years, i’ve reveled in our drunken moments because i thought that was all i’d ever get. i dreaded the day that you would meet someone and tell me it has to stop. i fell for you so hard and it was so scary and i just- i had to try and move on. i had to try and meet someone before ultimately, you did. because i knew that if you told me you met someone, and i was still in love with you? i would never recover from that, Luke. i wouldn’t. and now you’re saying this and i, god i feel so fucking stupidly in love with you. you don’t have to wait anymore, because i realized i love you a long time ago.”
Luke pushes out of his bed, any interest in sleep lost to him. pulling on a hoodie and an abandoned pair of sweatpants from his bedroom floor, he doesn’t even bother telling Jack that he’s leaving.
“god, i need to kiss you.” he slips on his nike slides, his fingers nimbly plucking his keys off the hook by the front door, and as quickly as he could manage, he was out of there.
“you can kiss me tomorrow, Lukey.” she smiles, finally rising from her bed to finish her nightly routine.
that is, until she hears a key turn in her front door. her eyebrows pull together as she wonders out of her room, greeted by sight of a disheveled Luke in her apartment doorway, who looks like he just ran down the stairs to get there.
hanging up the phone, she grins back at the tall boy.
“or i can kiss you now.” a playful smirk pulls at the corner of his lips as he taking wide glides over to her.
his hands find her cheeks, his thumbs wiping gently over the supple, tear stained skin. the apartment is silent, their heartbeats racing as she gazes up at his beautiful eyes.
“or you can kiss me now.” she echoes, her words mumbled and low.
that’s the final straw, the confirmation Luke desperately needed, and finally, he allows his head to dip down. her lips were warm and soft, tasting faintly of mint ice cream, and warmth spreads across his body, starting at his chest and almost blossoming across his body. Luke feels at home.
her hands desperately cling to his hoodie, as though he’ll disappear if she lets go, and his slide back to cup the nape of her neck. she has no desire to pull away, but her lungs spread with fire until she’s forced apart by the need to breathe.
“i love you.” she whispers, eyes closed as she rests her forehead against his own, teeth digging into her bottom lip as she bites back a lovelorn smile.
“i love you, sweet girl.”
“please don’t go back home. spend the night?” she finally opens her eyes, her head tipping back as he straightens up.
a pink hue glows upon his cheeks, and she can’t resist letting the backs of her fingers gently graze over the heated skin.
“not going anywhere, baby. staying right here.” his lips brush against her forehead, leaving a fleeting kiss in their wake and making her heartbeat flutter within her rib cage.
it feels right, the way they go about a new bed time routine. luke’s arms wrapped around her waist as she brushes her teeth, his eyes boring into her reflection. her head on his chest as they fall asleep, his alarm on for them to wake up for morning skate, together.
and if they were holding hands when they walked into the rink, if they were a cheesy couple who kissed before he entered the locker room, if his smile was a bit too wide in the tiktok she filmed for the Devils socials, if she chose the question ‘do you believe in fate?’ solely because of him, could they really be blamed?
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ellabscrush · 2 months
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— play with my pussy, not my heart.
a/n; this has been an idea in my head for awhile but kept scrapping it, hopefully this is alr. btw my requests are opennn.
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𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐞𝐫!𝐚𝐛𝐛𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
cw; smut, mdni, fingering, reader has a nervous habit that might triggering, dom!reader, flirting, language, slap kink once, arguing, abby is a dick here lol, trust issues, angst?? lmk if i missed any!!
sypnosis; your well known girlfriend who has a reputation of being a player finally decides to settle into a serious relationship with you. aware of your girlfriend’s past, abby’s project partner comes to intervene with your thoughts & worries. back and forth arguing isn’t going anywhere, you had to show her other ways on who not to mess with.
— ˚ෆ ⋅˚ —
“it’s just a small study sesh baby, nat even agreed to do it at our apartment!” abby walks towards you as she hovers over, “so no need to worry, ‘kay?”
she caresses your face and pecked your lips.
nat, aka natasha ferreira, is apart of western university’s dance team. you’ve seen her around before wearing white flowy skirts and layered jewelry. you once heard her talking about how her parents got a brand new bmw for her quinceañera.
i guess there was nothing to hate about her, other than the fact she is gorgeous and very talented with her dancing. this was just another one of your stupid overthinking.. right?
“okay abs.. thank you,” you gave her a soft smile.
“that’s my best girl.”
besides, trust was the thing you both had been working on these past months. dating abby was going to be a challenge. you knew it and your friends knew it. though they weren’t too supportive with her intentions at first, you were convinced abby could change her acts if she reallyy tried.
three knocks suddenly interrupted your little conversation. abby sprinted to the door and opens it to find a joyful figure in front of her.
nat gasps, “abby! this is my first time seeing you outside of uni,” she smiles with excitement.
abby smiled back and leaned for a hug, leaving you to stare at them with a lump of jealousy in your throat.
— ˚ෆ ⋅˚ —
one minute you were next to abby, and then the second the brunette is touching forearms besides her with those stupid doe eyes, glossed lips, and weirdly seductive black platform heels. god she’s annoying.
“your handwriting is shit!” the brunette teased, giggling as she leans to abby.
“yeah?” your girlfriend chuckles, “this is what you get for choosing me as your partner.”
nat shrugs, “well then i can deal with it.”
you tried so hard to not be bitter. really you did. but each time you glance at the two across the kitchen island, you swore the both of them were doing this shit on purpose.
sudden eye contacts with you everytime they laughed together, unrelated conversations, and some flirty remarks. oh, and not to mention the obvious footsies that was happening under the table. like you can literally see it.
“fuck me..” you muttered.
“what’s that princess?” abby asks you, the nickname made nat changed her demeanor quickly.
you turned back to meet nat’s eyes, then to abby, and back to nat.
“nothin’ love,” you put a convincing smile.
three hours long night full of giggling and jokes you didn’t even get later on.. you find yourself yelling back and forth in your shared bedroom with abby who literally couldn’t understand where you were coming from.
abby groans, “goddamnit we talked about this!”
“i never did anything to her, you were literally infront of us,” she raised her voice.
“abs, she deadass rubbed her foot on your leg multiple times and leaned to you everytime you both laughed..”you went on, getting more frustrated by the minute.
“well.. we’re just having a little fun, is that romantic to you?” abby asks with her hand crossed to her chest, her facial expression screams ‘you’re being crazy.’
you were exhausted trying to find ways to communicate without bringing up abby’s past, like you both agreed to. however, your concerns shouldn’t supposed to end in argument. you shook your head, letting out a long sigh and sat on the edge of the bed.
“i- i don’t know abby,” you stammered, “i guess it is romantic when they do the things i do to you.. since i am yours.”
you gazed down at your feet with teary eyes while unaware as you were digging your nails into your thighs. this was a nervous habit of yours in which you don’t realize you have been doing it for so long. your girlfriend, however, does.
she slowly walks closer to the edge of the bed and kneeled down to your eye level.
“you are mine.” her voice sounding more reassuring and softer like you could faint at that moment.
“i thought you could’ve been better for me..” you sniffled
abby panicks once she realizes you were crying, “baby no.. fuck i’m trying..”
“trying?” you looked up.
the blonde sighs, “will. i will be better.”
she moved your hands from your thighs with one hand, while other pushes your head closer to hers for a deep kiss. more so, a sloppy one. she wipes your cheeks and the kisses started from sweet, to mean in a heartbeat. abby stroked you waist, making you clench you thighs together.
abby smirks, “you turned on princess?” she asks and you just whimpered in response, “fuck.. i gotta wake up early tomorrow.”
knowing your girlfriend has plans tomorrow morning, this sparked an idea in your head. abby can become a submissive mess when you’re in charge. so you decide to show her other ways who not to play with, and whose pussy she can only play with!
“so?” you replied in between kisses, “don���t want me to scream your name tonight?”
.. besides, making her miss out a big free brunch with her friends the next day will be an added punishment you thought.
the blonde smiles and throws you to the middle of the bed, causing you to squeal from the unexpected move. abby aggressively pulls down your shorts and underwear. your wet slick was ready for her.
“look at you all ready for me,” she circles her thumb on your lips slowly, “gotta fuck that jealousy out quick or else i’ll be late tomorrow, princess.”
you smiled maliciously in response as you bite your lip. abby then shoves her two fingers inside your mouth, “open.”
she pumps her ring and middle finger in and out. being all soaked in your drool making it wet enough to fit in your pussy. the sounds of your whimpers made her go crazy. you shut your eyes feeling abby’s cold, drenched fingers sliding inside.
your body shuttered, “s-shit baby..”
the sounds of your wet pussy is practically making abby drool.
“feels so fuckin’ good, keep going,” you ordered keeping a strong eye contact with the blonde, “just like that..”
“that fucking pussy,” abby whispers, you licked your lips looking down at her fat fingers going in and out, “you needy whore,” she degrades.
her words were like fire and heaven at the same time. you wouldn’t be so pissed off at her if she hadn’t let nat be all over her for three hours straight. now it’s your job to remind her whose pussy she can fuck. and the only one.
you let out an airy laugh, “i’m the whore hm? atleast i wasn’t flirting with another bitch,” she looks up at your face. you were trying to keep your composure while being mercilessly fucked.
you sat yourself up with elbows on the mattress, “you proud of yourself huh?” just inches away from her stupid smirk.
“faster,” you demanded.
she curled her fingers inside of you, hitting your g spot like a pro. you can help but let out a moan and rocked your hips in rhythm. that smirk of hets turned to an amazed expression once she hears your juices sloshing around.
“fuck baby,” abby was practically drenched under her pjs wanting to taste you, “p-please need to taste you.”
“nuh uh, you’re being mean all day. you don’t, f-fuck, deserve me.”
abby was desperate just by hearing you speak like this. you’re such an angel around her normally, like when she first met you, you were different than the other girls she had met before. she fell for you. but damn that mouth of yours was killer in bed.
the rare times you controlled her was only when you were pissed off at your girlfriend for the amount of disrespectful flirting that was happening in front of you, or not giving you updates on what she’s doing with her girl friends. however, you can’t blame yourself for having mixed trust issues knowing how many girlfriends abby has had.
maybe you’ve been too patient with her? letting shit go so easily?
“shit- c’mere” you groaned and kissed her viciously at the thought of her fucking another girl. one hand around her neck while the other grips her loose hair.
“mmm, keep going..” you moaned in her mouth.
abby rubs your clit, feeling your juices squirting all over her thighs, “p-please baby.. lemme clean you up” she begs to lick your folds but you resisted.
you slapped her cheek, her needy face turning red.
“shut up,” you growled, “better stop messing around.. i deserve fuckin’ better.”
abby whimpers, putting her head back in frustration. she then looks down to see you, a dripping pussy drunk mess. her fingers were sticky and all tired. however, she’s not stopping until she screams your name.
“atleast say my name when you cum,” she pleaded, “please.”
her voice made you feel every type of way. your thighs starting to heat up, a familiar feeling as you have had fucked yourself with the thought of her in the past. pounding noises as you thrust your hips on to her fingers harder puts many heated scenes in your head.
“abby.. oh my god- m’ fucking cumming..”
“that’s my girl, ride daddy’s dick,” she encourages you.
an orgasm was washing over you, “abby you’re mine. fuck- ah-“ you burried your face in the crooks of her neck.
“all yours baby, i’m sorry.” she kissed all over your shoulder, genuinely feeling bad that she didn’t give you the reassurance you wanted earlier.
“abs- fuckfuckfuck,” you screamed out, screaming her name loud enough the apartment below could hear you, “i hate you so much..”
“i love you princess.. love it when i make you cum..” she admits. your legs shaking like crazy, feeling overstimulated.
you know how that goes..
once you orgasmed, you let abby suck her fingers, tasting every bit of yourself. and just like that, you were laying down with a fast pounding in your chest. she caresses your stomach and kissed all over your body, still needing to feel you more. but knew you needed her the most.
“hey, you okay?” she asked softly, looking at your sleepy eyes. she just wanted the both of you to be good. “i’m fine.. just a little tired. i feel like you don’t know how badly it hurts me to see you purposely being all over people like that.”
abby sighs, knowing she fucked up. she didn’t want to be that person anymore. she loved you, really, but her actions just aren’t the thinkable. you both sleep skin to skin while she stays up to watch you fall deep in your sleep.
“i love you, angel.” she whispers. feeling all the guilt in her chest, your girlfriend pulls you in closer.
of course, she had to make it up to you the next day so she cancelled all plans. it’s not like she got up in time anyway.
well now you both know she won’t ever be doing that shit again.
— ˚ෆ ⋅˚ —
932 notes · View notes
dimepdf · 2 years
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𝐃𝐎𝐍'𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐍𝐀 𝐏𝐔𝐋𝐋 𝐎𝐔𝐓. + 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔
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masterlist. / taglist. / any request? synopsis. maybe you did have a skirt kink?
pairing. football player!gojo satoru x reader
word count. 3.4K
genre and warnings. +18 nsfw under the cut. minors dni, football player au, mutual pinning, pwp, don't squint at the plot too hard now, idk how sports work, secret relationship, hookups, commitment issues, skirt kink, jealousy, heated kissing, teasing, touchy gojo, pussy drunk, car sex, backseat sex, oral (f), fingering, slight bratty reader, mentions of praise kink, name calling, pet names, unprotected sex(wrap before you tap), leather against skin, NOT BETA'D | — feedback is always welcomed & don't forget to reblog 🤍
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It was the night of Gojo’s homecoming game. Football players spread across the field as the crowd roared, cheering for their respective university teams. 
In all honesty, you didn’t know little to anything about football, let alone sports, flinching out every time the students that sat on the bleachers next to you would scream out in excitement or shoot up from their seats to clap and cheer.
The word "bored" doesn't accurately convey how uninterested you were and how little you knew about college football. You didn't feel much better not understanding a single event that had unfolded while sitting in the brisk fall air.
Your ears and fingers were nearly numb from the absence of sufficient warming layers on your body, and you were shivering in the denim jacket you had stolen from Gojo's closet.
As the game entered the fourth quarter, you were trembling with each gust of wind and fidgeting with the gem-layered pendant that rested against your chest. 
It was obvious from the scoreboard, which you had to squint your eyes to see from the stands, that Gojo's team would win. The final score resulting, 38-14, caused students to stand up and shout in unbridled joy as the rest of the football team ran towards the field to celebrate their victory.
You still felt out of place despite being surrounded by so much school spirit, chanting, and screaming. In an effort to blend in with the crowd as much as possible, you sat as far away from the field as you could.
Watching Gojo celebrate with his teammates, shouting out in excitement and playfully tackling them into hugs, his long arms slinging over players so effortlessly, you couldn't help but smile to yourself.
You found it strange to hear other women gossiping and giggling about Gojo, saying things that you would utterly concur with. 
But the rumor that he was a sex god and was extremely strict about who he chose to hook up with was what you despised the most. How only the luckiest of pretty girls would he tempt back to his bedroom.
Even though you were hooking up with Gojo and had plans to return to his apartment tonight to give him some, you resisted the urge to lean in and let everyone know because you knew that doing so would make you appear crazy.
Realizing this would make you a colossal hypocrite since you were the ones who caused the difficulties in your relationship with Gojo. 
Being overly protective of your own heart and unwilling to let the blue-eyed playboy with a long history of "sleeping around" have to close a relationship with you.
You managed to make out his trademark white hair, which is typically styled but was now pulled back over his eyes.
You also noticed his prince charming smile, the skin that peaked out from under his jersey, and the figure that shimmered from the sweat drips covering his entire body, making him look like a magazine model under the field lights.
His eyes scanned the sea of people until they finally met yours, sending a chill down your spine.
When he saw you so out of your element and knew you were doing it specifically for him, his Chester-like smile only got bigger.
He winked as he returned his focus to his coach, leaving you fiddling against the bitterly cold bleacher seats as well as the girls seated in front of you giggling as if the gesture was intended only for them to lean against each other in an out-of-control fit.
You reminded yourself that the only reason you had endured it all was because of the stupid deal Gojo had made with you as your hands clenched against your thighs in frustration.
“How about we make a little bet ___, if i win this game you have to give me a special reward.”
Any bet you placed with Gojo was akin to making a deal with the devil himself.
The winding game of cat and mouse with you resolutely giving in to his childish antics, beckoning your attention until you fall back into his trap with enough time to have you pressed against the cool tile of the guy's locker room way after practice hours.
Fucking you stupid until you gain back that tiny sense of commitment-related fear by ignoring him entirely the next day.
Gojo and you had been hooking up for long enough for him to understand that every time you pulled away, he would just snap back much harder despite your foul mood.
When you needed a quick reminder of how good he would make you feel or how well he already knew your body to turn you into a trembling mess unable to stand up by yourself, he was always there with open arms.
And each time you fall for it. The dick was simply too good to throw away entirely. 
Because of this, you kept up your end of the bargain, swallowing the last of your pride, and stood in the parking lot's darkness to observe how the other students filed through the gates along the curb.
Around the time Gojo emerged from the locker room, the crowd had vanished quickly, going about their respective lives as they drove away in their cars.
Except for a few staff vehicles scattered about, the parking lot was deserted as you watched him approach closer while tossing his gym bag over his shoulder. 
His phone initially caught his attention, not taking notice of you, swiping his thumb against the screen.
His head jerked up at the light ding notification from the phone in your pocket, and he followed it with his eyes, grinning to see you shivering by the curb for him.
He looked at your baggy outfit and lifted his brow, saying, "I'm going to be pretty disappointed if you aren't wearing my gift under that." He teases you by strolling past you with a yawn that seems uninterested, each long stride ending in the direction of his car as you simply followed his trail with a huff.
"Don't fucking worry. I've been freezing my ass the entire game wearing this stupid thing." Unbutton until the midsection of your torso to show a glimpse of the brightly colored cropped cheer uniform top you had tucked away under the fuzzy inside of his jacket, deciding there would be no harm in just giving him a peek.
The cut ending just under the curve of your ribs exposes the pudge of your stomach entirely. The uniform was very obviously designed for cookie-cutter, precisely shaped cheerleaders with pale skin, ponytails, and thin bodies who looked like they belonged in any stereotypical teen movie. 
Gojo almost drooled at the material you had to squeeze yourself into, clinging to every curve and crevice of your body.
You pulled the hem down, but it still didn't cover much since you could see the skin of your torso next to the top's strangely clashing colors. 
Gojo trapped you against the passenger side door, looming over you, and murmuring, "I think you've got to be the prettiest girl on the team ___." He spoke in a deep voice that made it difficult for you to look him in the eye, your thighs threatening to squeeze together as his hands crept under the jacket around your hips.
"Yeah, yeah, I know I look exactly like your basic ass type. Can you hurry and just unlock your car before someone fucking sees us already?" The Gojo was giving you all of his attention, but you were good at ignoring him to a point, pressing your palm flat against his muscular chest. 
His fingers reached out to grab you by the jaw as he only leaned in closer, maintaining his smile the entire time. He did this to forcefully draw all of your attention to him.
"That’s not very school spirit of you, ___. Shouldn’t you be congratulating me on winning?" It was all an act to enrage you even more, but it was working due to the pout on his lips and the way he glared down at you. 
You try to stop your heart from racing by pulling your face away from his hold and crossing your arms. 
It appeared as though he had cornered you and was treating you like prey—just another bug that had gotten caught in his web. You could feel Gojo's words brushing against your skin as he hummed, "You know, you have such a fucking potty mouth," sending a shiver up your spine.
His long fingers caressed your hips as he purposefully wedged his leg between yours. His light touch now extended under the jacket with both of his hands. 
He pressed against you until you could feel the print of his erection against your stomach as your back rested against the car window. "I’ll forgive you if you show me the skirt."
"Gojo." In a plea, you breathe out his name.
The last thing you wanted to do was to be caught flaunting some poor girl's stolen uniform when you were already feeling self-conscious about only showing the top.
"___." He rolled his eyes and moved away, saying, "That's too bad, I only give rides to pretty girls in skirts." In a bored tone, he told you. His normally innocent smile had been replaced by an uninterested glare as he cocked his head.
He was practically swinging bait in your face, and you knew that the only thing he seemed to enjoy more than playing football was teasing you.
As a result, you became the first to play along with his scheme. 
As you reached down and untied your sweatpants, shimming to pull them down to your thighs, a matching skirt set was revealed from beneath the gray cotton, his eyes never leaving yours until you broke eye contact first.
He breathed out at the view of your thighs crammed into the snug cuffed ends of the skirt's safety shorts watching as his eyes take in the sight of your body. 
You weren't sure why you were acting so shocked when Gojo chuckled and reached out to pinch the plush of your legs, but he quickly pulled back before he could become overly excited by touching you.
"Okay, you've persuaded both my dick and me. If you don't want me to fuck you in the open parking lot, get in the car, slut." 
The journey to wherever he was taking you seemed a lot worse to you. Your exposed thigh is being squeezed by his hand, which seems to be rising steadily. 
If you knew he was going to tease you for the next twenty minutes, you would much rather have him fuck you in the parking lot. Not enough of the music blaring from the radio could help you calm down as you writhed at the growing need from beneath your skirt.
Even with the sun gone and the roads seeming like a maze at night, you could tell from the turns and exits which spot he had turned into.
His fingers danced across the precarious line of fingering you in his car or not while his eyes were fixed firmly on the road. 
You even spread your legs wide to get the perfect angle for his hand, but he moved quickly to step back just far enough to deny you what you were pleading for.
What a fucking tease.
"You're so fucking insufferable," you grumbled, causing him to laugh heartily. 
"Oh, shut the fuck up," he quips. "You act like you're not eating this shit up."
"You think I like being dressed like this?"
"You agreed to it," he reminded you, his hand laying a teasing smack against your thigh. "Just admit that you fantasize about being folded like some cheap slut in a porno. I won't kink shame, angel." 
"Don't call me that," you whined. "I’m not some fucking slut."
“Well yeah duh,” he grinned side eyeing you only for a second. “But you’ll sound like one when I'm done with you.”
He backed into a more private space further into the deserted parking lot, engaged the car in park, and turned the radio volume down until it was barely audible over the sound of the late night.
He slapped his hands against the steering wheel, leaned back against his seat, let out an exasperated sigh, and then grinned impishly in your direction.
“The stars look just as pretty as you, ___.” 
"Oh yeah, and how many girls do you usually say that to?" Rolling your eyes, you tried to contain the warmth that accompanied the sincere compliment. 
"Only to the cheap sluts that I really want to fuck." He responded dryly, watching with a gulp as his eyes glanced at your lips. "You’re driving me crazy, baby." He finally snapped, leaning over the dash to kiss you, only being able to hold the whole arrogant persona for so long before he needed you as much as you needed him.
You couldn't claim to have much prior experience having sex in a vehicle. 
His room or yours would typically be where the two of you would spend time alone, but since your roommates were home and Gojo's fraternity was probably packed with people throwing a party in his honor, you had to make do with getting down in his car.
Holding yourself in place and pushing yourself closer so that you wouldn't completely topple forward, all you had to do was twist and strain.
You could just tell from the low grunts and small sighs that Gojo was getting a bit frustrated, his long limbs cramped into the small space. "Can’t you just sneak me into your place?"
"Oh yeah, you could just introduce yourself to my roommates while your balls are deep inside of me, maybe even shake my parent's hand and tell them about your skirt kink too."
"God, you're such a fucking bitch." Gojo sighed, nipping at your bottom lip, "you're lucky I'm into that." Gojo sighed, licking his lips before opening his door. 
After he slammed the door shut, the overhead light flickered, and you puzzledly watched as he opened the back door rather than crawling into his seat before turning to you with an expectant look that beckoned you to join him.
You managed to crawl through the seats with a bit of a struggle, settling yourself against the other door as Gojo guided your legs apart to make room to slot himself in. "Best gift ever," he muttered as you changed into your full-fledged outfit, shedding the jacket and sweats that had covered you to the ground. 
The moment that Gojo had ducked under the hem of your skirt, your fingers tangled a handful of his hair in a fist, shivering at his eagerness, feeling his teeth tease against the skin of your thigh. Finally, paying much attention to the eagerness between them, his fingers probed and nudged against your clit until he had hooked your underwear to the side.
Your body responded before you could even process what was happening. His tongue teased at your clit, his fingers dipped between your folds, and the sound of your breathy groans spurred him on to move swiftly.
With your needy whimpers, fingers clamping down firmly in the nest of his hair, grinding against his fingers, and the sensation of your legs twitching and quivering, just the taste of you on his tongue was like unwrapping another reward.
However, you weren't a fool. 
You were aware of how pussy drunk Gojo became each time he would eat you out, usually wanting to have you stumble out his name with tears threatening to prickle your eyes. When it came to going down on you, he was the type to lick the plate clean.
This is why you were taken aback when Gojo suddenly stopped and raised the material on your skirt to look you in the eyes. 
He continued to work his fingers in and out of you as if he weren't attempting to carry on a conversation while teasing, "Be honest, you so have a skirt kink."
As you attempted to comprehend the question, let alone provide a sarcastic response, your lashes fluttered and your head spun. 
Any train of thought that tried to escape your mind as Gojo's fingers worked their magic "I-i'm." is the only thing you could stutter out. 
"I-I, you what baby?" His laughter made you squint your eyes shut, and you covered your face with your hands as he mocked you in a flat tone. 
Gojo leaned up and grabbed you by the wrist, pulling your hands away from your face to give you a more delicate kiss on the lips, muttering mostly to himself, "You're so cute."
Leaning into his touch, you suddenly felt his fingers pull away from you, making a humiliating wet sound that you ignored since Gojo had already diverted his attention to another part of your body. He was fondling your breast through the crop top as his fingers explored.
You could tell from the way Gojo smiled against your mouth that he was biting back on making some stupid joke the moment that his fingers made out the bud of your nipples.
As he pulls away, his other hand switches back to tracing the plush of your thighs before quickly removing your skirt. 
He peeled it off of you without a bat of the eye, not wanting to struggle with the safety shorts that were sewn in under it like he had to do when he had blindly gone down on you. 
Bumping his elbow and leg against leather seats as he sat up trying to strip his own shirt, a loud thump jortles you from your daze. Only then had you realized Gojo’s hiss of pain.
 His normally pale face was now flushed pink, and he scrunched his brow, rubbing the back of his head. "This is the thanks I get for having such a big dick.”
He leaned back down, perfectly squeezing himself between your spread legs, and asked, "Wanna kiss it better?" while getting dangerously close to your lips. He didn't wait for a response simply because he could tell you were only glancing at his lips.
His head dove to hide in the crook of your neck with a grunt, as your fingers searched for the bulge that reacted with a twitch after you had grabbed him by the elastic of his shorts.
You didn't hesitate, never did, knowing what you both wanted as his fingers spread your pussy apart.
You couldn't help but feel intoxicated while listening to his shift in breathing as your hand guided his length to press against exactly where you wanted it.
Sharing a relieved gasp as he shifted his hips against yours, the feeling of him burying himself inside you completely, Gojo was too lost in the bliss to joke about how good it felt to have you clench around him.
Your hips move in unison, seemingly motivated by a primal urge to pursue the intense arousing sensation that had been building up. 
Gojo, rubbing his thumb in circles against your clit while whimpering into your neck about how gorgeous you were.
As the intensity of his thrusts increased, steam built up on the car's windows, and the air became humid as the car's slight creak gave way to the weight shifting inside. 
Few actual words were spoken because the two of you were too preoccupied with making each other feel good to even form sentences that had any proper finishes.
Gojo readjusted himself, finding the spot that caused your muscles to tighten and spasm. Hooking your leg over his shoulder, nearly causing it to hit the ceiling as he grunted at you while clenching around you continuing his pace until your orgasm unfurled.
Despite being athletic, Gojo went completely slack, falling with his entire weight against your chest, panting as if he were in practice running a mile.
He found calm in the thump of his heartbeat against your chest. "Hey, so about the roommate thing," Gojo spoke after he had eventually caught his breath, cuddling against your chest as his fingers played with your pendant. "I wouldn't mind meeting them, or your parents, or telling anyone honestly; I just would prefer to do it fully clothed if that's okay."
You blinked. "You mean you want this to be like an official thing?" you asked, finally working up enough energy to sit up against the side of the door.
Wincing at the uncomfortable feeling of your sweaty bare skin dragging against the leather material of the seats. "Like this, you no longer refer to me as a slut but as your girlfriend instead."
"Well, I still want you to be my slut, but calling you girlfriend doesn't sound too bad either, does it?" Gojo shrugged.
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woso-dreamzzz · 4 months
Text
Allergies
Hardersson x Child!Reader
Jessie Fleming x Child!Reader
Part of The Big Adventures Universe
Summary: Jessie saves your life
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You're riding around on Jessie's shoulders the day it happens.
You like Jessie a lot. She's super snuggly and warm and she always plays with you when she comes over. She's friends with Niamh and they both hang around with Zećira so you see them a lot.
After Zećira, Jessie's one of your favourite girls at Not-Wolfsburg. She likes to sit with you on the coach and you watch movies with her before she wraps you in blankets and naps.
Jessie's great and you love her a lot.
She's not as tall as all of the other girls but, together, you make a tall person so that's okay.
You're riding on her shoulders because Morsa's talking to Coach Emma and Momma's doing media. It's media day which means it's boring for you and Jessie's got a gap in her schedule so she's come over to where you're set up with girl-swan and girl-moose and now you're on her shoulders.
You're giggling and Jessie's pointing out what everybody's doing.
"There's Sam!" You say, pointing to where Sam's sitting with somebody and a plate of food.
Jessie carts you off towards her.
"Hi, Sam!" You chirp, reaching down to shake Sam's hand because sitting up so high on Jessie makes you feel all special and powerful.
Sam laughs.
She must have something on her hands because after she's pulled away, your skin feels all itchy and little red welts appear where she's touched you.
You scratch them as Jessie takes you off her shoulders.
"What's that?" You ask, pointing at Sam's paper plate.
"It's a kiwi," Sam says," Would you like to try it?"
"Never had a kiwi before," You say, thinking for a moment," Just a little bit please, Sam."
"You've got it."
She hands you a chunk and you pop it into your mouth.
You've got kiwi juice on your hand and it makes it go all red and itchy. It makes your throat go all itchy too.
"Don-Don't like it," You say. Your voice is all wheezy and choked up like your throat suddenly doesn't want to be open anymore. You try to cough but it doesn't work and tears appear in your eyes.
"J-Jessie!" You cry," Hurts!"
But your words barely make it out of your mouth and it's largely unintelligible.
Jessie and Sam are looking at you horrified as your face gets redder and redder and puffier and puffier.
You're panicking now and your tummy feels all bad, like you're about to throw up.
You think you do throw up. You're not too sure but you feel all woozy because your throat is all closed up and you can't breathe.
There's a clamour of voices around you and you drop like a bag of rocks.
Pernille watches it happen in slow motion. You get redder and redder and then you're down.
She leaves her interview without even making an excuse, sprinting towards you.
You've got vomit all over your top and your face is all swelled up and red. You're grasping at your throat, clawing at it so much that your little nails make deep red lines down your neck.
You're growing weaker though and you slump to the ground.
There are shrieks from everyone as you go down.
A crowd has formed, of players and media alike. Magda shoves through the crowd just as Jessie shoves her way out and Pernille kneels down to check your pulse.
It's hard to locate under all the swelling but it's there, weak and thready.
But it's there and that's all she can focus on.
"What happened?!" Magda demands, looking around wildly," What happened?!"
Pernille's desperately trying to find a way to help you.
You look terrible and your breathing is getting shallower and shallower. Someone (Pernille thinks Magda) gives her a napkin to mop up the vomit on your chin and she moves you onto your side so you don't choke.
Your eyes are swelled shut and you're making these terrible wheezing noises on every inhale.
"I don't know!" Sam is yelling," She ate some kiwi and completely swelled up! I didn't know she was allergic!"
"She's not allergic!" Magda snaps back before screaming out," Medic! Come on!"
Jessie fights her way through the crowd again and Pernille's watching in slow motion.
"Call an ambulance!" Jessie orders, more authoritative than Pernille's ever heard her. She rolls up your shorts and jams a big pen-like thing down into it.
The effects are almost instantaneous. Your face slowly begins to unswell and your breathing evens out. As you wake up, you immediately burst into tears, blubbering and whining out words that aren't even words.
"We still need to get her to the hospital," Jessie says, looking around wildly," It's my epipen. It's meant to be for adults. I don't know if kids have to have different ones."
Thoughts come rushing through Pernille's head at such a speed that she can't fully understand. She remains in this state even when the ambulance comes and everyone's loaded inside.
Media day has been cut short and Pernille knows that the rest of the team will be following in their cars.
"What...What did you mean, epipen?" Pernille manages to ask as she stands outside your hospital room after being kicked out so the doctors can work.
"Epipen," Jessi repeats," They're for allergies. It's like a shot of adrenaline or something."
"She's not allergic to anything," Magda says, speaking for the first time in a while. She's just staring at you through the window.
"My parents thought I wasn't allergic to anything until I went into anaphylaxis too," Jessie says quietly.
The doctor slips out of your room and shakes Magda and Pernille's hands.
"She's fine," Is the first thing he says, clearly very used to settling worried parents," Your friend did the right thing, giving her the epi. Usually, we'd see some bad effects with an adult dose on such a little girl but your daughter's allergies are severe enough that only an adult dose would have helped."
"And it's definitely allergies?" Magda asks.
"Definitely allergies," He confirms," You'll have to bring her back in a few weeks for proper allergy testing but you said it was a kiwi?"
"Yes," Jessie says," Kiwi."
"Then I'd keep her away from bananas and avocado too. They tend to be grouped together with allergies and latex too."
"But she's going to be okay?" Pernille says," She's going to be alright?"
"She's going to be just fine," The doctor assures her," Her reaction was pretty extreme so far as symptoms go but she's going to make a full recovery. I'm going to prescribe her some epipens for the future and all you need to do is make sure she keeps them on her at all times."
"Thank you."
They're all let into your room where you sit playing with the tube of your IV.
"Leave it alone," Magda says softly," How are you feeling?"
You make a face. "Sam's kiwi was a bad kiwi."
"I think all kiwis are bad for you, princesse," Magda says with a little laugh as she brushes her hand over your hair.
"Kiwis are blergh!" You declare sticking your tongue out. You turn to look at Momma. "When can we go home? Jessie said that we could play zoo."
"I think they want to keep you a few more hours," Momma replies," And then we can go home."
You sigh like this is a big inconvenience to you. "But then Jessie has to go home too," You say," And she said that she'd play zoo with me."
"We can play zoo here," Jessie says as she comes in," Sam and Erin dropped off your backpack. Have you go any zoo animals in here?"
You perk up. "I do! I do! Morsa, Momma, can we play zoo here?"
Magda smiles. "You can play zoo here but no jumping around. I want you to sit nice and pretty in your bed. And no playing with your IV!"
You sigh. "Fine."
676 notes · View notes
theemporium · 2 months
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[2.6k] it's hard to remember you are good enough when everyone and everything in the world seems hellbent on convincing you otherwise. or, at least, the voice in your head is.
tw: description of panic attacks and symptoms
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Luke Hughes thought he was ready for this.
He had spent the better part of his life preparing for this moment, letting it lead up to this moment. From the day he was born, it was like a prophecy that he would inevitably fulfil, just like his brothers. From the moment he put on those skates and took his first step onto the ice, it was like planets aligned and stars shone down on him and the universe decided that Luke Hughes would make it to the NHL. 
It was everything he wanted in life, it was everything he trained for in his life. 
And he watched his older brothers do the same. 
He had spent his childhood listening to his parents tell him all about the bigger leagues. He trained and trained and pushed his way through the junior leagues. He went as far as doing his stint in college hockey, in following Quinn’s footsteps in hopes of being just like him. 
He watched Quinn be drafted. He watched Jack be drafted. He watched his own name be called out. 
He even got a fucking taste of it all in the playoffs, that small insight into what would be the rest of his life before he officially started his rookie year. It was overwhelming but it was everything he ever wanted. He had trained for this. He was prepared for this. He was made for the NHL. 
He thought he was ready for this but he really fucking wasn’t. 
The bitter sting of a loss was a familiar but unwelcome feeling, one that washed over him and suffocated him as he stood on the ice. He liked to torture himself a little, to tilt his head back and look at the losing score on the big screens whilst the echoes of the fans around them hit his ears. He liked to make himself feel the sting so he wouldn’t forget it, so it would push him to do harder, to play better.
But these days, it seemed like nothing was enough. 
It was humiliating, some of the games they were losing. No one on the team was going to outrightly say it, but Luke could see it on their faces. He could see it in the way Nico’s face shut down like he didn’t want them to see their captain down. He could see it in the way Jack gripped his stick a little tighter, like he was reissting the urge to hit it against something to vent his frustrations out. He could see it in the way Jesper’s shoulders sagged as he skated towards the tunnel, or the way Daws kept his head down so nobody would see the look on his face. 
He saw it on all of their faces, and some horrible, bitter voice in the back of his head told him it was all of his fault. 
Logically, Luke knew that was impossible. Hockey was a team sport and one bad player didn’t make the whole team bad. But it didn’t help him from feeling like he was dragging them down, stopping them from being the same team that made it to round two of the playoffs last year. 
Luke couldn’t help but feel that maybe he wasn’t made for the big leagues, that he didn’t belong. 
That he didn’t deserve his spot.
His body felt heavy as he followed the team and skated towards the tunnel. Every move felt slow, lethargic, weighted. Everything felt like it was too much, and yet his mind never stopped moving. 
It was like watching a tragic movie on loop in his head. 
Each fumbled pass replayed in his mind. Each missed shot. Each stumble on the ice. Each bad call. Each intercepted passes. All of it. The shitty plays and shittier calls. Not even from the game they just played, but the string of losses they had been pushing through. They all played in his head over and over again until that voice was screaming at him. 
It was his fault they were losing. 
It was his fault they weren’t scoring the points they were capable of. 
It was his fault he wasn’t good enough. 
It was his fault because they thought he would be as good as Quinn and Jack, and he fucking wasn’t. 
It was all his fault.
It was all his fault. It was all his fault. It was all his fault. It was all his fault. It was all his fault. It was all his fault. It was all his fault. It was all his fault. It was all his fault. It was all his fault. It was all his fault. It was all his—
And the voice just didn’t stop. 
It didn’t stop screaming at him as he stepped off the ice, his body wanting nothing more than to stop fighting gravity and just give in. It didn’t stop screaming as he joined the line towards the locker room, every other sound muffled to him. It didn’t stop as he shuffled towards his stall, collapsing onto the bench like his body couldn’t handle his weight anywhere. 
It just didn’t fucking stop. 
His brain was so loud and noisy and deafening, he couldn’t focus on anything else. He couldn’t focus on whatever post-game speech Nico was inevitably giving the boys. He couldn’t focus on  whichever players got pulled for media. He couldn’t focus on the way everyone was meticulously packing up their equipment, discussing what their plans were for the night since they didn’t have practice until the afternoon tomorrow. 
He couldn’t focus on anything but that screaming voice. 
And truthfully, Luke didn’t know how long had passed since the horn blared at the end of the game. He didn’t know when everyone else started leaving the locker room. He didn’t know when his hands started shaking and his vision started to well up with tears. He didn’t know when it became so fucking hard to breathe.
“Luke?” 
The voice was muffled and he should have tilted his head back, he should have looked up to see who was calling out to him. But his head felt heavy and his blurry vision was making it seem like he had more fingers than he should and it was just all too fucking much.
“Hey, Luke. Buddy? You good?” 
And then there was another voice. 
They both sounded concerned. They sounded close. They sounded like they cared. 
But Luke couldn’t handle it. He couldn’t lift his head and see looks on their faces because he know, without a fucking doubt, who those two voices were. He knew it was Nico and Jack. He knew it was his captain and his brother. And in complete honesty, they were the last people Luke wanted to see. 
He didn’t want to see the look of pity on Nico’s face. He didn’t want to see his captain look at him like he was some wounded animal that probably wouldn’t make it. He didn’t want to see that disappointment like he expected more from a Hughes brother, like he expected more from Luke. He didn’t want to see Nico stare at him like he was a freak for being upset when it was his fault they lost the game.
He didn’t want to look at Jack. He didn’t want to see the mix of emotions on his face. It had always been a dream of theirs—all three of them—that they would play in the NHL together, and it fucking happened for them. He didn’t want to see the regret on his brother’s face. He didn’t want to see the disappointment in what he’s turned Jack’s team into. He didn’t want to see the anger on his brother’s face that he had fucked up their chances of playoffs again. He couldn’t fucking handle seeing his brother look at him with distaste, for not being good enough. 
Nico and Jack were the last fucking people Luke wanted seeing him like this. 
He didn’t want his captain or any of his teammates right now. He didn’t want Jack or Quinn or either of his parents. 
He didn’t want anyone. 
His chest felt tight, his body felt cold, his hands wouldn’t stop fucking shaking and the gear felt like it was weighing him down even more to the point he swore he could have melted into the ground. He didn’t fucking want them around him, he didn’t want them to see him like this. He just wanted—
“Luke?” 
This voice was softer and quieter. It was like a hum, familiar and warm and—
Fuck, it was just what he fucking wanted, needed.
His movements felt slow and shaky but he managed to lift his head, his bottom lip wobbling like he wasn’t sure if he wanted to scream or cry. But somewhere in the well of tears, in the blur of colours and blobs, he saw you.
“Baby,” you whispered, soft and heartbroken and he honestly thought that was worse than any pity or anger he could have received. He didn’t like seeing you sad, and he hated it even more when he was the reason behind it.
But when he opened his mouth, no words came out. Just a garbled noise, a choked out sound that had his lungs heaving for the air they so desperately needed. 
“Hey, shhhh,” you murmured, and suddenly your hands were on his face. He could feel you wipe away the tears streaming down his face, soft brushes of your thumb against the irritated skin of his cheeks. He could feel you shift closer until you were kneeling between his legs, until you were as close as you could be whilst still keeping your eyes on his face. “Just breathe.”
Luke shook his head, something like frustration bubbling inside him. 
“Yes, you can. I know you can,” you continued, your voice firm but reassuring. One of your hands dropped from his face and he almost cried a little harder, cried for you to keep touching him. But then he felt your fingers wrap around his wrist, felt you guide one of his shaking hands until it rested on the centre of your chest. “Just copy me, okay?” 
Luke blinked at you.
“Just gotta copy what I do, baby,” you told him, giving his wrist a soft squeeze like you were telling him you knew he could do it. “Just breathe with me. Deep breaths. We will go slow, okay? Just follow what I do.” 
So, he did. 
He wasn’t sure how long had passed. He wasn’t sure where everyone else was. He didn’t know if the team had already left, if Jack had already left. He didn’t know if there were any fans left in the building or if the rest of the team had started making their way home too. 
He didn’t know anything except you. 
It took a while to ease the band around his chest enough to let air into his lungs. His breaths were shaky and shallow, his body still felt buzzed and on alert like it was preparing him to run at any given moment. But with each passing breath, each little exercise, his heart slowed down from his thundering pace and his blood wasn’t roaring in his ears anymore. 
And somewhere along the line, the rest of his tears were blinked away until he could finally see you again.
“There’s my pretty boy,” you murmured with a soft smile on your lips, one hand remaining on his cheek whilst the other was pressed over his on your chest. “You’re doing so well, baby, just like that. Keep breathing.”
And Luke continued to breathe, continued to copy the way your chest moved with each breath until his brain started to remember he could do this himself. And it was only then he spoke. 
“I’m sorry,” he blurted out, his voice a little rough and croaky like he hadn’t spoken for years. Like his throat wasn’t used to it. “I am so sorry—”
But before the hyperventilating could take over his body again, you were squeezing his hand to catch his attention. “Hey, no,” you frowned at him, an emotion he couldn’t quite read passing over your face. “Don’t do that. Don’t apologise. You didn’t do anything wrong, Luke.” 
“But I—” He let out a shaky breath, feeling a ball form in the back of his throat like it was stopping the words he wanted to say. “The game—”
“Was unfortunate,” you finished for him. “But it happens, Luke. And it wasn’t your fault.” 
He shook his head like he disagreed. 
“Luke,” you started.
But the boy looked away. He couldn’t do it. He couldn’t see the expression on your face when he pointed it out. He knew you had probably seen it all online anyways, he knew you knew what they said about him. But he didn’t want to see the moment it clicked for you.
He didn’t want to see the moment you realise he wasn’t good enough, for the league or for you.
“Luke,” you said in a firmer voice, a little more serious and it finally scared him into lifting his head again. “None of this is your fault. Hockey is a team sport. You win as a team and you lose as a team. This isn’t on you—”
Luke let out a choked noise. “People say—”
“People will say a lot of things but that doesn’t mean it’s true,” you said to him, the hand on his cheek becoming a comfort he leaned into. “Luke, baby, it’s your rookie year. You are going to make rookie mistakes. It happens to everyone. It happened to Jack.” 
“I know.” He could feel his throat closing up. “It’s just…maybe it was a mistake—”
You frowned. “What was?”
“This,” Luke said as he gestured to the locker room around him. “Me. Hockey. I don’t know.”
Your frown deepened. “Luke—”
“Maybe I just wasn’t cut out for the big leagues like Jack and Quinn were,” he continued as he swallowed harshly, the truth raw and bitter and suffocating. 
“Luke,” you said once again and this time both of your hands were cupping his cheeks. “Don’t start bullshitting me now.”
His eyes widened a little. “Baby—”
“No, Luke, listen to me,” you said, squishing his cheeks a little to emphasise your point. Your stare was strong but full of sincerity, and it made his chest tight for a different reason. “You aren’t here because of Jack and Quinn. You are here because you are good enough. Because they saw your skills. Because they think you are skilled enough to be a fourth overall draft pick. Are you hearing yourself right now? You are made for this. And yeah, a couple of losses are gonna knock anybody’s confidence. But you are at the start of your career, Luke. You have so much ahead of you.” 
He blinked away the tears that were starting to form again.
“You are more than these last few games, Luke. And you are more than enough to be in the NHL.” Your voice was softer, quieter too. “You are going to get past this rough patch. And I’m going to be by your side and so is the whole team. This isn’t the end of the world, this is just the start.” 
“I love you,” he blurted out because he didn’t know what else to say. His body was still shaking with the after effects of his panic attack and his body still felt heavy, but it was hard to focus on the bitter voice in the back of his head when he was so full of love and admiration for you. “Like, so much.” 
You smiled at him and he could have sworn his heart fluttered.
“I love you too,” you told him, leaning forward to press a sweet but chaste kiss to his lips. “Now, c’mon, let’s get you changed and then we can head back home. I told Jack to order us burrito wraps.”
He swallowed back the urge to say ‘I love you’ again. 
“You’re amazing, Luke Hughes, and I’ll be damned if you ever forget it.”
.
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katszumi · 3 months
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Part Two
“We won.” The words left Iwaizumi’s mouth. It was the second time he said it that week. Another win for Seijoh, leaving the other team completely defenseless. It was another easy win for them.
Another win, yet another loss in his book.
He promised himself that he’d confess to you after the game. Everyday, the words repeat in his head like a mantra. Everytime he sees you, he waits for the words to leave his mouth, but they don’t. They never do.
He hates himself for it. He wished that he could just grow up and say it. Iwaizumi knew there wasn’t much time before you both graduated, and you both knew that you’d separate after.
He wanted nothing more than to cherish this time with you.
He watched as your usual bright smile stretched across your face, eyes dancing and bleeding with pride. God, he never got tired of seeing that.
“I knew you could.” It was something he heard many times before, but he didn’t have a problem with it. No. He loved it. Loved that he had your support.
There were tons of people that supported him. He was in a powerhouse school so it wasn’t odd that there were lines of people cheering his name. Yet, he only heard you. Everytime you’d scream his name, your voice would echo in his head, telling himself to play even harder to guarantee the win that day.
He remembered you wearing his jersey once. Technically, it was ‘wear your favorite player’s jersey’ at Aoba Johsai. Mostly, it was Oikawa’s jersey that was spread throughout the school. Iwaizumi truly didn’t care that he didn’t see anyone wearing his, until he saw you.
There you were standing in the crowd alongside your two friends dressed in his jersey. He remembered how fast the heat crept up his neck, blooming across his face without warning. How rapid his heart was racing, causing him to stop in place and stare at you with a tilted head. He was shocked.
He remembered how Oikawa wrapped his shoulder around him with a crooked grin. They said nothing but from his posture Iwaizumi knew Oikawa was teasing him. Though, he didn’t care in that moment. He was too happy. Happy that you were there for him. Happy you even wore his jersey.
He remembered how Oikawa faked him into going on a date with you. Well, more of a study session. All of the third years made plans to study at the library, but it was only you and him that came. While you only saw this as ditching, Iwaizumi knew that they did this so he could confess.
He was such a blushy mess being alone and close to you. Especially when you asked for help on a specific problem, his hand lightly brushed against yours as he grabbed the pencil from you, his hand immediately recoiling back as he stuttered for words. You looked up at him and grinned muttering sorry. He didn’t know why you said it, but he nodded. That day he didn’t confess either.
He remembered finding you between two vending machines, crouched down and head into your knees. Your body was shaking as choked sobs parted your lips. Immediately, he kneeled down and asked you what was wrong but you didn’t say anything. You didn’t even look up at him. Iwaizumi was unsure of what to do since he’s never been in a situation like this before. Besides, it was you. You were headstrong, it was strange to see you break down in school.
He opened his mouth to say something, but the feeling of two arms wrapping around his stomach and a head pressing into the crook of his neck ceased him from doing so. You cried into his neck, holding him tightly like he would slip away from your grasp. He thought it was selfish to be enjoying her touch like this, but only pure bliss filled his heart.
Turns out, your grades were slipping and it wasn’t guaranteed you were going to make it into university.
He remembered the wide smile that spread across your face when you aced a test that he helped you study. You took no time to engulf him into another tight hug. Iwaizumi stiffened at your touch. Unlike last time, your arms were around his neck. Your hand placed slightly below his nape. Hesitantly but surely, he placed his fit arms on your waist. For a moment he could’ve swore that you moved in closer, but he wasn’t so sure since he was focusing on not breaking down right there and then.
He remembered the first time he went inside your home. You were down with a fever, and your parents were at work. He took the day off to aid you, hoping for a quick recovery to get back at school. Your room was nothing like he expected. It was nice, and had a sweet scent.
You were embarrassed for having him see you so sick like, but he didn’t mind. You asked him how could he not be disgusted by your looks, he responded by saying you looked exactly like he always saw you. Disgusting, is what you replied with jokingly. Iwaizumi laughed with you, his heart aching with the familiar feeling he’s experienced before. More than ever, he wanted to tell you. But he just couldn’t.
He remembered the train ride home you two took that one day, not walking since it was pouring. Iwaizumi stood, holding onto the bar to keep himself balanced while you sat. You insisted for him to sit down with you since it was still a long way to go till you both got off, but he declined. He didn’t want to invade your privacy. The seat was mildly close to yours, it was definite that he’d accidentally touch you in a matter of time. He didn’t want to go through that embarrassment, nor the apologies.
After minutes of pestering, he finally sat down beside you, his legs relishing the relief he felt from standing all day. That day he learned more and more about you: your favorite animal, favorite food, favorite place, your plans after highschool, he learned it all. From the corner of his eye he noticed your head drooping, eyelids falling. In the nick of time, he caught your head from toppling over. Unsure of what to do with it, Iwaizumi did the most selfish thing he could— He placed it onto his shoulder.
Moments after, your hand found it’s way onto his. So much for ‘invading privacy’.
Finally, he remembered the solace in his heart when he heard you reject the rumors about you and Oikawa dating. You two were growing closer, leaving Iwaizumi as a grumpy, insecure mess. The practices were more tense than they usually were, all of the 1st and 2nd years confused as to who shifted the mood. The 3rd hears already knew, and they were sure why. The rumors had been going around for about a week so it wasn’t surprising that they heard of it.
Iwaizumi didn’t want to believe it, but Oikawa was the golden boy at the school, everyone fell for him. And Iwaizumi was just him. He knew there wasn’t much of a competition, he knew that you were going to pick him, and that’s why it hurt so much. He cried almost every night, refusing to speak to anyone at school or home. He also avoided you, making sure to take the longer routes to his classes and staying ten minutes after school just so you’d miss him and walk home by yourself.
But one day, there you were, waiting for him at the gates. You demanded for him to tell you why he was avoiding you, but he wouldn’t share. You kept hassling him hoping for something to slip out, and it did. In the most snarkiest way he replied with, “Why are you bothering me? Shouldn’t you be with your boyfriend?” He pronounced boyfriend in the most mocking way, that it made you sneer. You laughed in his face, causing his heart to break even more. Iwaizumi turned around aiming to get as far away from you as he could, but you grabbed onto his hand before he could take a step. You instantly shot down his assumption, claiming that it was only a rumor, that you and Oikawa were friends and nothing more.
That day Iwaizumi felt like an idiot. He should’ve asked instead of recklessly jumping to conclusions and leaving you in the dust. It was unfair. Mentally, he cursed at himself for being so inconsiderate towards you. Only one thought entered his mind for the rest of the day: I should just confess already.
And here you are, shining your toothy smile at him, eyes ablaze with exhilaration nearly lighting the night sky itself. You were just so alluring. There was never a day where his heart stopped beating for you, where that same crimson blush stopped occuring, where he would try to find open spots in his day to spend with you. The feeling inside of him was overwhelming, the feeling coursed through his veins like it was his blood, like a drug he couldn’t live without. He wanted you. He needed you.
And like he was starved, his mouth opened before he could process anything.
“I love you.”
-
IWAIZUMI BRAINROT OH MY GOSH😫
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askew-d · 5 months
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KAGEHINA FICS MASTERLIST
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• ⭐️🎖️ jellyfish, by mysterytwin — hinata makes a list of things to do before graduation; and that includes confessing his feelings to kageyama. a wonderful story, so heartwarming. my utmost favorite.
• ⭐️ in transit, by mysecretfanmoments — while riding the bus together, hinata begins to discover about his feelings for kageyama. absolutely lovely.
• dare, by majesticartax — kagehina’s chosen to play a dare in which they end up locked in a room, and, of course, revelations ensue. this one made me scream lots. rated m!
• you know all the strings (and know just how to tug them), by artemisia_hq — 5 + 1 story about kageyama being whipped and can’t say no and hinata saying yes. domestic fluff.
• like always, by artemisia_hq — during their last walk home together, hinata becomes aware of his feelings and decides to do something about it. short story, yet so cute!
• ⭐️ i wanna know you, and i wanna love you, by momochai — kagehina go on a day together, or better yet, a date; even though they’re not quite aware of it. i was dying throughout all of this, outstanding!
• you’re grabbing my hands like they’re handbars, by mountains_6 — basically tsukishima being a third wheel when the three of them travel to rio, based on the extra bit of the manga, lol. short and endearing.
• 🎖️ a hundred or so hellos, by iwillstillopenthewindow — kageyama reincarnates over and over and hinata continues dying over and over. angst. a lot of angst. but still goddamn beautiful.
• let me in on the open secret too, by switmikan74 — kageyama doesn’t know that he’s dating hinata, until he gets hints from a shoujo manga. that’s so fitting, definitely worth the read!
• highway verse, series by emleewrites — a pixel cars au that i didn’t think it’d catch me until i read it and had dreams about this fantastic universe.
• ⭐️🎖️ if it wasn’t for you, by halfbloom (diphylleias) — in brazil, hinata learns more about relationships and what it means to have a bond with kageyama. got my heart effortlessly. such a delight.
• ⭐️ one more thing, by marks — it’s tsukishima and yamaguchi’s wedding, and kageyama and hinata decide to go together. can i please have more of this? sweet stories like this makes my heart melt, i swear.
• 🎖️⭐️ i can do better, by buu — kagehina compete over everything under the sun, and that includes kissing. and some more. in fact, every kagehina fic by this author hits. and this one… made me feel stuff. rated m!
• ⭐️ no angels could beckon me back, by lilacnoctua — heated arguments lead kagehina to heated moments with each other. a hot story with great development. loved every part of it.
• from this day forward, by emleewrites — kageyama tries to propose; it goes as badly as you can expect. so funny, seriously! i could easily recommend every fic by this author too, as well as esselle’s, but i’m gonna list my favorites anyway, so hang on!
• soft serve, by tothemoon — kagehina drives an ice cream truck to help karasuno; as one might expect, feelings are involved in between. summer fic, brings a ton of good emotions!
• 🎖️ famous v-league players make fools of themselves on twitter dot com, by crone_zone — the appearance of one hinata shouyou through the eyes of twitter users. pure comedy and it’s a whole show. gorgeous!
• room to grow, by mysecretfanmoments — things are different in their third year and hinata’s still learning how to deal with it. ah, young love! the best kind.
• raining verse, by emleewrites — kageyama’s cursed to be a kitten, hinata’s the one who finds him. i love a magic realism au, so imagine my happiness while reading this.
• future’s kiss, by mervousmer — kageyama somehow travels to the future for a moment, and hinata’s there, all grown-up. come on, time travels also have my heart! this one’s cute as hell.
• ⭐️ dethroned, by setkia — kageyama counts his victories and losses against hinata in his mind. what a gem! short and fabulously creative.
• saffron and cayenne pepper, by dontsaycrazy — neighbours kagehina: one only knows how to set the kitchen on fire and the other one’s actually a chef, what could work between them? everything, that’s the answer. a hit!
• on quarantining together…, series by winterey — social media kagehina making lives while on quarantine. fun and addictive!
• conflict of interest, by zukushou — more of social media kagehina, this time with journalists thinking they’re rivals when they’re actually… yknow *gay for each other*. just everything i’d ever want for them.
• ⭐️ with suds in your eyes (and a smile on your lips), by hqkrys — established relationship kagehina take a messy shower together. overall just endless fluff, which melts my heart!
• a bento for dr. kageyama, by zukushou — hinata leaves food for his husband and causes gossip at the hospital said husband works in. hahaha, this is definitely terrific.
• the best laid hands, by mysecretfanmoments — kageyama doesn’t even know how to deal with his own romantic life, so it’s best if other people don’t ask for advice. but what if it’s an advice for hinata? you never know :)
• ⭐️ better than firewhiskey, by mysterytwin — hogwarts au with kagehina! someone should definitely find this author by the way and give them a big hug. i want to. they rock.
• chase the light, my love, by thebeaming sun — kageyama planning to propose and earning support of his teammates. established relationship kind of thing that makes me smile.
• hinata and kageyama terrorise a simple interviewer, satorou masashi, series by call_me_j — story told in the form of an interview, including post time-skip kagehina of course. remarkable!
• optical, by kvhottie — kageyama wears glasses; everyone freaks out. do i need to explain more? hella entertaining.
• never doubt i love, by gentle_autumn_rain — jealous hinata thinks kageyama got a boyfriend. he didn’t. love these small misunderstandings that lead to a confession! so good.
• of gentlemen and scoundrels, by mysecretfanmoments — historical au with kageyama as a gentlemen in london and hinata who’s… well, not very much like him. the writing and the sexual tension in this is spectacular!
• ⭐️ save the last dance for me, my prince, by zukushou — prince kageyama and bodyguard hinata, as this fandom deserved. and such a well-developed at that. charming!
• patience, by mistonthelake — surprisingly enough, hinata discovers about kageyama’s crush on him earlier than the man himself. a lesson in being patient.
• wrestle for victory, by emleewrites — after their fateful game, kagehina decides to compete over wrestling. that’s definitely something they’d do and it got me hooked.
• ⭐️ oh we play, in autumn days, by aruariandance — kagehina being silly boys and kageyama getting a phone. is it because he wants to text hinata? that, he’ll never admit. i’d give it a hundred kudos if i could.
• ⭐️ ridiculous, by festivetrickster — yachi has to spend some time with kagehina in their apartment. the way they live just makes me suspicious of their relationship. no, like, this is indeed so ridiculous but i like it so much!
• sunstruck, by orphan account — kageyama gets the help of romero to sort out his relationship with hinata. seeing introverted kageyama slowly but surely trust his teammate and idol with issues like this makes me proud.
• ⭐️ sun above your shoulders, by longleggedgit — even in an universe where they go to different high schools, kagehina meet each other anyway. everything’s delightful here!
• the missing piece, by akaashism (acciomerlin) — kageyama deals with the changes in hinata. just adorable, i giggled a lot.
• the trouble with soulmates, by navybluewings — our sweet cupid hinata’s journey to get soulmates bonds fixed! this au rocks.
• five star review, by emleewrites — hinata’s hired to paint kageyama’s wall and they start a “friendship” out of it. amazing to see this unfold, so nicely done.
• 🎖️ for the best of all possible worlds, by tinygumdrops (curryramyeon) — an au about kagehina’s relationship journey from across countries, including letters. they meet while being apart and we see it unfold. is there anything better than this? majestic!
• at the tip of your nose, by cloesh_scribbles — where kageyama’s obsessed with eskimo kisses and hinata’s obsessed with him. please help me after this, the fluff killed me.
• the video series, by sunnyslipper — kageyama and hinata breaking the internet over and over with their videos. funny and spot on!
• alexa, play waking up in vegas, by attackofthezee (noxlunate) — kageyama and hinata get married accidentally. the thing is, i can totally imagine them doing this. they’re absurd and lovely.
• meat bun is a love language, by icecreamromantic — kageyama decides to confess using meat buns. come on, it’s stupidly perfect!
• slipping through sand, by majesticanna — an au in which kagehina meet in brazil. just so warm, waaah!
• high dose, by akaashism (acciomerlin) — hinata convinces kageyama that, because of a health issue, he needs kisses. i swear, these silly boys will break me. this is excellent.
• why do i feel like it’s (fake) love, by izucaii — hinata and kageyama pretend to be boyfriends while in brazil. a gorgeous fake-relationship story!
• ⭐️ a best man’s worse problems, by villainphilia — tsukishima, the best man for kagehina’s wedding, prepares his speech while reminiscing how the two dumbasses got together. all of this is just marvellous!
• five proposals, by dayoldcupcake — kageyama proposing, hinata saying no. done with the intent of giving me diabetes. chef’s kiss!
• ⭐️ plain as day, by emleewrites — hinata has a low self-esteem and kageyama tries to make him realize how wonderful he is. i died and came back. truly stunning.
• kageyama tobio reads thirst tweets (unedited), by popcornpearl — after making a bet, kageyama reads thirsty tweets and tries not to blush. it’s harder than he expected. rated m!
• i’m lucky to have you, zukushou — the famous “just woke up high in anestesia and i can’t remember my own partner” trope. pure comedy, love this for them.
• ⭐️ the obvious is at eye level (but i might need a step stool), by dr_awkward221 — hinata watching sakusa’s relationship with miya and slowly realizing things about his own his kageyama. i loove this one, it’s unbearably good.
• ⭐️🎖️ let the light out, by uhohshouto — kagehina make a bet in which the other one must ask for something of the loser. kageyama wants a kiss… and then something more. seriously though, i can’t believe this; it’s a wonderful story, so entertaining. rated e!
• epic, by esselle — a surfing au with hinata as an instructor and kageyama as an arrogant professional. this charming scenario surely made my day.
• let’s take this offline, by pas_dautres — office employees kagehina who meet through emails and reports. i had to add this, because it’s nice, surely worth the read.
• 🎖️ these hands of time, these hands of mine, by fireheartaw — kageyama being introspective over their story together and apart. light angst maybe, but the narrative’s so interesting and captivating.
• discordant, by majesticanna — academic rivals kagehina meet again as professors. so short but so sweet!
• 🎖️⭐️ pursuit verse, series by emleewrites — a gambler hinata and an attorney kageyama based on the ace attorney game. never played the game. but the story? deserves to be printed. if you never read it, you need to. hear me out: you need to.
• ⭐️ getting it right, by akaashism (acciormerlin) — play pretend boyfriends for miwa who end up actually having domestic moments and finding out more about their feelings, hehe.
• know you better, by mysterytwin — bakery worker kageyama and spell shop owner hinata in a world of magic! great development and very poetic.
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note that this is based on the fics i’ve known since i entered the fandom and that i truly enjoy. either they’re famous or not famous, i’m just adding them here for my future self contentment and for those who, just as me, wanted a full list of kagehina fics upon getting engaged in haikyuu media.
if you think i should add more and if you have recs for me too, i’m accepting them! thank yoou.
last update: 3/3/24
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mukumukunomi · 6 months
Text
Not Alone. Never Alone. (part 1)
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Luffy x Fem!Reader
cw: fluff, no smut, first love, implied semi-relationship, no manga spoilers, takes place just after East Blue's arc in live action, idiots in love
wc: 1,663
a/n: This is part one of a a short and sweet two parter. I'll be uploading it soon hopefully! Still thinking of more cute one-shots I can write as well. Part two will be linked below
Part Two (Luffy)
❦ ❦ ❦ ❦ ❦ ❦
You tell him that getting involved would result in disaster.
But Luffy is a magnet for disaster. He’s chaos incarnate. Brutally honest to a flaw with a kindness that shatters ideals and shakes the foundation of the world. It’s as rare as it is maddening.
“I'm serious. It’s better if I go alone tonight instead of tomorrow.”
The words bite through the silence. It actually forces Luffy away from shoveling the food in his mouth as he eyes you up and down. 
“Where are we going?”
You sigh. He’s not listening to you. Not really. The words are going in but not processing. Luffy always does it when he hears something he doesn’t like. He simply states what he wants instead like the universe will bend itself to his will. 
Maybe it does.
“Not ‘we’. I am going to go to the island. Me. Not you.”
Luffy frowns. You know he doesn’t doubt your strength nor your character. But it’s the subtle narrowing of his eyes and the way he slowly chews his food that gives his emotions away. He’s annoyed, you think.
“I don’t want ya’ to go alone.”
You sigh dramatically. He’s like a petulant child. His reasoning confounds you. “I’ll be careful.”
He breaks gaze with you to take another huge bite of meat. It’s impressive how he manages to scarf it down in the span of two minutes before he’s once again berating you. “But I can be stealthy!”
You wipe a crumb from his cheek. His face is twisted, eyes avoiding you. He whistles a broken tune mainly because he’s terrible at whistling. Sweat drips down his face. All the tells convincing you that your captain would be terrible poker player. “Leave the lying to Usopp. It’s not your forte. And leave the stealthiness to me. It’s my forte.”
His concern isn’t unwarranted. You're sneaking into the lair of people who once held you as a short-time captive long ago. They’re not as fearsome as some of the pirates you and the crew have encountered, but nevertheless have connections to people you’d rather avoid.
You’re wanted in more waters than the prospective King of the Pirates beside you. The ties of your family and the status they have in this world make it so you’re looking over your shoulder at all times. You’ve never known freedom until the strange being named Monkey D. Luffy stumbled into your life. 
But you know the layout of this particular place, and it has something the crew requires. Without it they can’t continue their journey forward. And you’d be damned if you were the one holding them back. 
“It’ll be quick. In and out. They’ll never even know! I spent a lot of time there as a prisoner so-.”
Luffy slams the meat bone onto the plate in front of him. He calls Sanji for more. Sanji’s disgruntled reply echoes from the kitchen to your place on the deck. You almost think the thing is settled until Luffy’s blazing eyes meet yours again.
The words are harsh. “I’m going.”
“Luffy, we don’t need to waste time on something I can handle myse-”
“That’s an order from the captain.”
His voice holds no cheerfulness. He’s never used that tone with you before. It’s the tone of finality. It means that Luffy has heard you out and he’s overruling you. You’ve seen him use it on people.  You’ve never had it used on you before. The abruptness of it makes you stand.
Hurt flares in your chest. Did he not trust you? Did he actually think you were weak? The logical part of your brain screams ‘no!’ but it’s buried in the torrent of emotions. Here was a chance to prove just how useful you could be. Prove you belonged on this crew. Why did he have to be so difficult? 
Luffy’s attention diverts again. He settles back into his mantra of consuming whatever is in front of him as Sanji places another plate of meat down. You make eye contact with the cook, who simply shrugs at the mood the captain is in. You huff in anger and decide being anywhere else is better than talking to the brick wall with a straw hat.
Habit finds you in the main meeting area of the Going Merry. Besides the currently absent presence of Sanji in the small kitchen, the crew’s swordsman is dozing lazily in the corner of the common space. You can’t tell if he’s supposed to be sharpening his sword or is sneaking the booze supply. It surprises you to see him in cohabitation with Sanji in the same room at all.
You plop next to Zoro. You draw your knees up to your chest and rest your elbows on your knees. You let out a long, dragged out keening noise of frustration.
“He shut you down, huh?”
Without looking, you smack his shoulder. Zoro simply scoffs as he tries to get more comfortable against the wall. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
You eye his form. “You said he’d be stubborn. Nami suggested I wait until he was eating to try to convince him.”
Zoro shifts the Wado Ichimonji on his hip. “Yeah, Nami’s right about that. He’s pretty susceptible when food’s on offer. You can convince him to do almost anything.”
The groan that is your reply is muffled by your arms. "Apparently not everything."
He taps the hilt of the blade on your head. “Problem wasn’t the timing. It was the subject.”
Your brows scrunch together. “The subject?”
“You.”
“You’re saying that I’m the problem.”
Zoro smirks. “Yup.”
You shove his shoulder at his shit-eating grin. Luffy and you care for each other. More than friendship. Not quite romantic. You're not sure if he even knows how to be. So you both settle for a comfortable in-between where labels are irrelevant. You’re free to explore this feeling between you two and see where it leads. Despite his naivete, there’s a quiet confidence in Luffy’s chaste kisses. In lingering touches and odd looks that make your heart rate elevate. There are moments where you wonder if he truly knows the effect he has on you.
You’re in love with him. So in love with him. You don’t know how deep his love for you runs. It terrifies you.
Your indignant snort reverberates the space. “I don’t understand.”
The moss-head rolls his eyes at you and takes a swig of a bottle. “If you don’t understand then you may be an even bigger idiot than he is.”
You decide that the room is more stuffy as you feel hot embarrassment at his remark. “At least I’m an idiot that can find my way around.”
The swordsman makes an interesting coughing noise as you get up and exit back onto the deck. 
Going Merry is docked at the north end of the inlet. It shrouds your little caravel just enough that you can still see the top of the fortress that lies beyond the hill to the south. You can see that the clouds are beginning to move eastward as a warm wind blows from the storm front to the west. Luffy is no longer where he was, but you can hear the echoes of his voice from below. Sanji passes you to return to the kitchen to clean up and lock the fridge, which will hopefully keep a certain pest (captain) away. You begin descending the stairs to the main deck as Sanji and Zoro’s voices start to hurl insults at each other from behind. 
The only one who remains on deck is Nami, who’s staring at a map of the island on the flat end of an upright barrel. An oil lamp burns beside her to give light. You rest your chin on her shoulder and hum at the layout. “That’s wrong.”
You point to the secret entrance Nami’s drawn. “It’s just to the west of the hill at the base. And that forest stretches all the way to the coastline too.”
Nami frowns and marks the correction with a pen. “Damn, I’ll have to redraw again at some point.”
“You don’t have to do that.” You say, voice turning bitter. “It’s not worth that kind of effort.”
You hope to never see this island again after this.
Nami simply raises an eyebrow. “You sound upset. What did Luffy say?”
You tend to forget how perceptive the navigator is. “He ordered me to let him come. Ordered! Like a captain! Can you believe that?”
“Ah. Well he is the captain.” Nami clicks her tongue, “Serious tone and all too?”
You nod. “Any chance of still changing his mind?”
The tangerine colored strands of her hair flow gently in the breeze as Nami laughs. “Absolutely not. But maybe it’s for the best. We both know how stubborn he can be.”
She snuffs the oil lamp out and folds the map to put in her pocket. Without the warm light, the ship is suddenly shrouded in an eerie darkness. The only light left is from the pale glow of the moon. Nami shifts her attention back to you. “Heading to bed. You?”
Usopp’s snores have already begun to resound across the ship. There are heavy footsteps below you from the men’s quarters. There’s a brief moment of loud talking and heavy things being thrown before peace once again returns to the Going Merry. 
You gaze up at the stars. “In a minute. I forgot something in the kitchen.”
The navigator yawns as she walks away. You watch her disappear below. There’s a heavy feeling in your gut as you move towards the ship’s railing. You peer over it, gazing at the strip of land alongside your ship.
Luffy could be stubborn. But so could you.
The warm air turns cold as you inhale shakily. You do a double take of the surroundings again to make sure you’re alone.
“Sorry, Luffy.”
You throw the rope ladder down and descend as quietly as possible.
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star-suh · 5 months
Text
The Jock and The Horny.
Choi Jongho x Male Reader.
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cw: college au, top jongho, katoptronophilia, size kink, uniform kink, sweat kink, blowjob, cum eating, facial, hickeys, shower sex, exhibitionism, cruising(?), established relationship, pwp, reader is a bit taller than jongho.
jongho is one of the top football players of the university and his boyfriend y/n was always supporting him, screaming when he scores a goal. the thing is that everytime y/n sees jongho in his uniform the little pervert gets aroused, he loves how his boyfriend's bulge swings as if he was freeballing. 
the football game had already ended and all the players were in the locker room changing and bathing, the smell of sweat and musk filling the place. 
“hey jongho? you are not going to shower, you stinky ass?” one of the players mocked, drawing some laughs from the rest of the players. “of course i'm gonna shower but after everyone else is gone, i don't want to make you all feel bad when you see me naked” he blurted out. the whole room was busy laughing at the joke that no one noticed a figure entering the room and hiding itself.
“ok see you in the next game mr. big dick” they all waved goodbye while jongho was sitting half naked, with a towel wrapped around his waist.
“you can come out now. everyone's gone” he spoke. “fuck you smell so good” was the only thing y/n said before jumping on his boyfriend and eating his mouth with a desperate kiss.
y/n's hands were exploring every part of jongho's body feeling all the sweat of his body “you looked so fucking hot while you were playing” said the horny guy while jongho's mouth was leaving dark spots on his neck.
a big tent can be seen under the towel covering jongho's bottom half “someone's eager” he whispered, sending shivers down y/n's neck.
the shower was on, the water falling and splashing everywhere when it falls on the bodies of the pair of lovers. jongho is slamming himself inside y/n's tight hole while he is standing, hands against the walls. “you fuck me so good jongho” blurted out the bottom. “and you take me so well too” complimented the top.
y/n was getting railed dumb by jongho, the tip of his cock reaching that sensitive spot every time it enters. “so deep~” slurred y/n, his insides squeezing jongho's cock. “i like how you choke my dick” the smaller grabbed the taller's chin, turning his head so they could make out. a mix of water and saliva dripping down their intertwined tongues. 
later y/n knelt down and started sucking jongho's cock, moving his tongue up and down, licking every vein and then his balls, putting each one of them in his mouth. all that while jongho was moaning and saying things like how good of a cocksucker y/n is.
“that's right my boy leave it nice and wet” spoke jongho while slapping gently y/n's cheek and then making him suck his thumb. jongho turned off the shower, then he made y/n stand up and open his ass, letting jongho see his delicious hole "i can't believe that all this is mine. just for me" and with two strong spanks, jongho put all his cock in at once, getting a big moan from the bottom.
jongho lifted y/n with his strong arms folding him in a cannonball position and railed him like there was no tomorrow. “fucking shit jongho.. i.. i think you might break me if you keep fucking me like this” he pleaded.
“perfect” it's the only thing coming out of the top's mouth accelerating his pace. jongho walked while still fucking the taller until reaching where there was a mirror, grabbing y/n by his chin and forcing him to look into the mirror. 
his cheeks, ears and the back of his neck were tinted pink, it was embarrassing for him to see how that thick piece of his boyfriend entered and left his greedy hole.
jongho pulls out and went to bring a bench, positioning it in front of the mirror and commanded his boyfriend to ride him, all while jongho looked at the mirror. the mere idea of looking at his boyfriend taking him makes him so horny. 
“it feels bigger” moaned y/n feeling the cock throbbing inside him. “it's because you're so hot” murmured his boyfriend.
after some spankings and the constant riding y/n was getting ready to cum “i'm gonna cum” he blurted out. “try to shoot it directly in my mouth. come on score a goal” he teases rubbing y/n's balls with one hand while playing with his right nipple with the other. “fuck” cried the bottom trying to aim straight at his boyfriend's open mouth to fill it with his thick warm semen.
after riding his high y/n stared at jongho while he licked clean the rest of the semen that landed on his chest and chin “yummy” he said smacking his lips and licking them.
y/n knelt down again while his lover was stroking his cock very hard and fast “get ready to receive my seed on your pretty face”, moan after moan jongho finally came painting the face behind him in white, the gooey cum covering y/n's lashes and dripping down his cheeks “a masterpiece” laughed the top rubbing the tip of his cock on y/n's lips as a sign for him to open up and lick him clean.
“now let's shower for real” y/n grabbed jongho and went straight to the showers again, both started kissing again not realizing that all this time there was someone hiding in the showers with a rock hard thing between his legs.
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seeingivy · 9 months
Text
you belong with me
satoru gojo x f!reader
**part of my satoru as taylor swift songs series
content: high school!au, gojo is a robotics nerd, reader is class president, emo nanami (my beloved), toji is ur shitass football playing boyfriend, typical cheesy highschool drama
an: tell me why posting this is giving me a tummy ache like I haven't posted for gojo in forever and now i think I suck at it :OOO anyways, please be nice to me about this and close your eyes if you hate it. also, totally reliving my high school days when I was senior class vice president (worst experience of my life) FDLJFKDSJFLS
--
You’re a hater. A self proclaimed, real-life, deep in your soul hater. 
What do you hate today? Being class president. 
You hate that you willingly ran, somehow won, had people up your ass all day about stuff that wasn’t in your control, and got stuck in the current situation you were in. Which was arguing with your boyfriend Toji, as you pace around your room and do your own fair share of screaming back. 
“You just did that shit because you were pissed at me.” 
“I did not, Toji. You know, not everything is about you. Other people needed the money and I put it where it was needed.” 
“To the color guard team? Babe, no one gives a fuck about the color guard team. Everyone is at the homecoming game to watch the football team. Not a bunch of idiots waving flags in the air.” 
“They’re also part of the game and all their equipment is broken. They need it more than you when you guys literally get donors and funding from the district and-”
“You’re just pissed about the sweetheart thing. That’s why you’re doing this shit and taking it out on everyone else.” 
“Toji, I’m not even mad about-” 
You’re met with the sound of ringing over the phone, signaling that Toji had enough and finally hung up on you. You flop straight onto your bed, pushing your face so hard into your pillow that sits uncomfortably against your nose and the smell of your laundry detergent makes its way to the crevices of your brain.
You hear a banging behind you and twist around to see Gojo pointing at his walkie-talkie, switching it on as you reach for yours. It’s still covered in glittery pink stickers from when you were seven, the silver coming off on your hand every time you grab it. 
“Come in, bunny.” 
“Loud and clear, Toru.” 
He smiles, setting his hardware down - probably for another weird ass robot he was making - as he holds it up to his face, talking again. 
“You okay?” 
“Yeah. Just arguing with Toji, again. I’ll start allocating some of our funds to get you some sound proof windows.” 
“Much appreciated, Madam President. That’s very generous of you.” 
You laugh, dropping the walkie talkie to lift your fingertips to your temples, lightly massaging the pulsating under your skin. 
“For what it’s worth, the color guard team is really grateful you did that for them. I know Utahime was so excited when the new flags came in, she was flipping them around on the field for hours.” 
“That’s why it’s even more annoying. I know what I did was right, but he just doesn’t see it that way. Uta dragged me down to the field to watch them and their choreography looks so much better with the multicolored flags. They were really happy about it.” 
“Heavy is the head that wears the crown?” 
“Heavy is the head that’s dating Toji Fushiguro.” 
He laughs as you switch your channel off, taking the last few seconds to study you before you draw your curtains. He can see the tension sitting in your shoulders and how clearly it hurts you to argue with Toji like this. And it infuriates him. That you even have to go to sleep angry and that the cause is the headass idiot you’re dating. 
Toji Fushiguro is lucky, far more lucky than he realizes. Not for obvious reasons. Yeah, he’s a great football player and yeah, he’ll probably get scouted for some really good university at the end of the year. He doesn’t have a shortage of friends or intelligence and for all intents and purposes, he’s loved (which Gojo doesn’t understand at all). 
He’ll probably be that scumbag that people see a few years down the line and then get infuriated at. Because if an absolute asshat like Toji Fushiguro can be successful, then truly all things have gone to shit. That the patriarchy is real, that society is broken, living proof that the asshole always wins and everyone else always loses. 
But no, those are common reasons to hate Toji Fushiguro - ones he’s heard echoed by Suguru and Shoko every time he does something that pisses the two of them off. Like scream obscenities in the hallways, block their parking spots when they’re going to class, call them names when they walk by. 
No. Toji Fushiguro is lucky because he gets to date you. Because out of the long list of girls he had to pick one, Toji just had to pick the one that was his. The girl he’s been in love with since he moved in right across the street and had a smiley neighbor excitedly waving at him through her bay window. 
To him, love has always been the pigtail braids you used to wear everyday in the fourth grade, the matching walkie-talkies you bought him in sixth grade when he got grounded, and that sweet smile you’ve had since the first day he’s met you. 
And when he sees those green curtains pulled against the bay window he’s stared at for years, where he’s loved you from for years, he lifts the walkie and says what he forgot to mention. 
I love you.
--
Thanks to your gracious ride, you make it to school thirty minutes early. Your intuition - that Toji was ditching you as your ride to school this morning - was correct. Luckily, you made it in time just before class started. 
Nanami’s already seated on the green bench outside the classroom, headphones plugged into his ears. As you walk up, you silently wonder how much hair gel it takes to keep his Gerard Way hairstyle in place. 
“Hi Kento! How is my best friend doing on this fine morning?” 
“We’re not best friends.” 
“Sure we are!” 
You reach forward and pinch his cheek in your hand, which he only swats off and rolls his eyes at. That’s how you know your best friends. Because if it was anyone else, Nanami would probably break their hand and walk away. But he always lets you tease him, because he know he loves you. 
“Are you still fighting with that dog?” 
“That dog has a name. And it’s Toji. And I’m not sure, he didn’t pick me up for school this morning.” 
“Did he at least tell you he wouldn’t?” 
“No. I was lucky enough that Satoru had walked Megs to the bus stop a little late and I was able to get a ride with him.” 
Nanami looks over, narrowing his eyes at you, as the hallway starts getting crowded with people. And you know what he’s saying, what he’s been saying for the past few months. 
“You know, it’s very normal to give your neighbor a ride when they need one. Not everything has ulterior motives, Kento.” 
“That’s true. Everything doesn’t have ulterior motives. But he does. I’ve seen how he looks at you.”
“How does he look at me, Kento?” 
“Like he’d kiss the ground you’d walk on.” 
You roll your eyes, reaching up to mess up his perfectly styled hair. It doesn’t budge and you get a handful of minty smelling hair gel.
“As if.”
Like you’ve summoned him by bringing him up, Satoru’s sidestepping to where you and Nanami are sitting, Shoko and Getou in tow with him. 
“Nanami~~ How’s my best friend doing?” Satoru says, bending over to totally obscure Nanami’s line of vision.
“Shut the fuck up, Gojo.” Nanami responds. 
Nanami stands up, giving you a look, before he stalks away to his next class. Leaving you, Satoru, Shoko, and Getou standing in front of your classroom.  
“So. I hear you have a robotics competition?” you ask.
“Yeah. Next Saturday. We always practice our hardware out the night before, throw a little party in the lab. You should come.” Getou says, smiling at you. 
Satoru smacks Getou in the stomach right after he invites you, clearly trying to tell him something with his eyes. And then when he catches you staring, he gives you a nervous laugh. 
You get it. He doesn’t want you there.
“Don’t act too excited to see me now, Satoru. Anything more and I might think you like me.” you bite sarcastically.
“What? No, it’s not like that. I just-” Satoru stutters, 
“So you don’t like me?” you say, smirking at him. Shoko and Getou are laughing, the tips of Satoru’s turning pink as he very adamantly tells you that he does indeed like you. 
“I have stuff to set up for the homecoming game that day, so I won’t be able to. But I’ll try my best, yeah?” 
“Okay. Next time?” Getou asks. 
“Sure, Sugar-u. I’ll see you guys around, yeah?” 
You give the three of them a polite smile as you trudge away, leaving to meet Toji at his locker and give him a piece of your mind for this morning. Which leaves Shoko and Getou to give Satoru the scolding of his life. 
“Are you fucking stupid, Satoru? You made it seem like you didn’t want her there.” Shoko says, smacking him on the back of the head. 
“I panicked! Plus, Haibara always likes to play Just Dance and I’d rather not embarrass myself in front of her.” Satoru responds, rubbing the now sore spot on the back of his head. 
“You’re hopeless, Satoru. She’s never going to like you if you keep rejecting her the way you do.” Suguru says, dragging him along to the robotics lab. 
“She has a boyfriend. Who isn’t me. As if she would even consider dating me in the first place.” 
And when the three of them pass you by the lockers, clearly getting yelled at by Toji, it only furthers their argument more. 
“Yeah, I’m sure she really loves him, Satoru.” 
--
Your argument with Toji hours prior simmers in your head, as you wait for the bus to arrive and for this godforsaken day to finally be over. You watch him pile into his car with Salma and the other boys from the football team, which only makes your anger fester more. 
He’s doing this to piss you off. Of course, he’s doing this to-
“Need a ride?” 
You look up and unclench your fists to find Satoru, sparkly blue eyes shining at you and a hand held out to you. 
“Thanks.” 
He leads you to his car, an almost demolished Honda Civic from his maniacal driving, and you climb in, immediately putting your head in your hands. You can feel him moving around you, the engine purring on and him backing out of the spot. 
“About earlier. I don’t not want you to come to the robotics thing. I just thought it was awkward the way he asked you and I-I didn’t want you to feel obligated to come, you know? And I-I’d like it if you came too and so would the rest of us.” he rambles, a hand in his hair. 
You look up, his ears tinted pink from the confession. 
“I was just teasing you, Satoru. I’ll try to make it by, okay?” 
He sighs, a clear breath of relief, and looks over to smile.
“Okay, cool cool cool. Now tell me why you and Toji are fighting.” 
“When aren’t we fighting?” you murmur, pressing your head against the glass. 
“But why?” 
And when you look over, his blue eyes staring into yours, in earnest while the light is red, you unload it all. 
“Do you know about the sweethearts thing they do at the homecoming game?” 
“Uh. That’s when the cheerleaders wear the jerseys right. And then decorate the locker room or some shit for the players.” 
“Yeah. Well, it’s not limited to cheerleaders. It usually is, but if you’re dating someone, that person can do it for you.” 
“So I’m guessing Toji doesn’t want you to do it for him.” 
“Not exactly. He was just saying that it’s more traditional for a cheerleader to do it since they’re also on the side of the track and he wants to see his name out there instead of running around, trying to make sure the game is running and all that.” 
You slump into the chair as Satoru frowns, a pitying look in his eyes, as he keeps driving. You can’t help but watch him, his silhouette against the window - defined jaw, the slope of his nose. 
He’s not the guy who ran away from kissing you in the eighth grade. He’s just ten times hotter. 
You shake your head, letting the thought spill from your mind, as Satoru looks over. 
“Jamoca?” he says, giving you a wide grin. 
You can’t help but laugh, nodding as Satoru makes a sharp left turn, making his way to the ice cream shop. 
Jamoca is your favorite ice cream flavor. Coffee, layered with fudge and almonds, became a proclaimed favorite when Satoru dragged you once in the sixth grade. After very sorely losing the class president battle, you moped in your room for five days - even going as far as borrowing one of Nanami’s My Chemical Romance vinyls to truly and properly mope. 
On day three of blasting the vinyl, Satoru called enough and dragged you to the closest ice cream store, claiming it was the closest thing to therapy that you normies could afford. Since then, any bad day was easily solved with two things. 
Jamoca and Satoru. 
When you make it to the store, Satoru’s excitedly dragging you out of the car, his hand pressed in yours as you both run into the store, giggling while you order your single scoops. And when he drags you out to the curb and you sit there, you silently think to yourself why you ever stopped doing this in the first place. 
Satoru leans over, digging his chocolate fudge covered spoon into your cup, before talking. 
“So. If you guys fight so much, why are you still dating?” 
“Dunno. Feels weird to initiate a breakup, I guess. I can’t see myself doing it.” 
“Even when he wants other girls to be his sweetheart?” 
“Even when he wants other girls to be his sweetheart.” 
You kick the pebbles into the broken parts of the pavement, leaning your elbows on your knees. 
“I don’t know, Toru. I guess he was just the first guy who ever liked me back and then I….spent so much time in the relationship and trying to make it work that it feels weird to let it go now.” 
Satoru swallows hard, eyeing his melting ice cream, as he ponders the best response. Because in earnest, he has two options. Support you or be selfish. Support you to stay with Toji, to do what you’ve been doing because he knows it’s what you want. Or be selfish. Tell you that he you deserve better, that he could be that for you if you just let him. 
He reaches over, flicking you in the forehead. 
“Ouch, asshole.” 
“You’ve got a really big brain in there. And you always have. You’ll figure out the right thing to do, just give it time.” 
And when you give him a halfhearted smile, reaching over into his cup for a bite of his ice cream, he lets it go. 
He can’t be selfish. Not when it comes to you anyways. 
--
After running around all day, you give yourself thirty minutes to go to Satoru’s robotics thing. After triple checking the microphones work, the yearbook team has access to the field, the glitter has been set out for everyone trickling in, and that everyone who could possibly need your phone number has it, you speed run to the other side of campus, to the robotics lab. 
And when you make it, the five of them - Haibara, Nanami, Shoko, Getou, and Satoru - are in the room playing Just Dance. Shoko’s sitting on top of the desk, flippantly moving her remote in the air, while Satoru quite literally is trying to give it all he’s got - and losing apparently. 
You lightly push the door open, which stops the two of them in their tracks, and you’re met with some very excited cheers as they all drag you into the room. You take a seat next to Nanami, giving his cheek a pinch, which he hates. 
“You’re Haibara, right?” 
“You know who I am?” 
“Why wouldn’t I? You’re friends with Nanami and Nanami and I are best friends.” 
“No we aren’t.” responds Nanami, now sulking two seats away from you. 
“Are too.” 
You throw the nearest object, a pencil at Nanami, as you turn back to Haibara and laugh. 
“I like your shirt. Flight of the Navigator is a really good movie.” 
You see Satoru, Shoko, and Suguru’s eyes widen in the back at your words and hear a considerable amount of groaning from Nanami behind you. And after twenty minutes, you find out why. 
Haibara really, really loves Flight of the Navigator. Almost too much. In earnest, you barely remember the movie - at most, maybe the weird little alien companion he has. But here Haibara is, reciting the cast, the directors, acting out the scenes and it’s clear to you that you’ve tapped into some monster they all keep hidden. 
Luckily for you, Satoru comes to your rescue. 
“Okay, Haibara. I’m going to steal her for you for some Just Dance.” 
“I don’t Just Dance Satoru.” 
“Oh yeah? You’re just saying that because you know you’re going to lose.” 
You scoff, knowing exactly what he’s doing. 
“As if, sweetheart. I distinctly remember you banning us from ever playing that game together after I beat you in the fifth grade.” 
“You’re rusty. Maybe we’ll start with something easy. Like Rasputin.” 
“I could do Rasputin in my sleep, bitch.” 
“Prove it.” 
You roll your eyes as you march over to the front, where they’re projecting the game onto the screen. And just for posterity’s sake, you take Satoru’s sunglasses from where they were flipped over on the desk and put them on, effectively blinding yourself from the screen. 
And when the songs start, you can hear them all laughing behind you, Satoru and you hurling insults at each other as you dance on. And somewhere around the middle, you’re sure Satoru must be losing because he grabs your hands and suddenly he’s swinging you around in the air, his hands on your waist as you laugh. 
And when you take your blindfold off and the song dies down, Satoru wins by five points. 
“You asshole. You literally cheated, Satoru.” 
“Did not. You’re just a sore loser, bitch.” 
“You kiss your mom with that mouth?” 
“Every night, sweetheart.” 
You put the palm of your hand in his face as you push him away, moving to sit on the desk. He joins you, the two of you now watching Haibara and Nanami have a very one sided dance battle. 
After forty-five minutes, Satoru’s phone buzzes three times and the smile on his face drops when he checks. You place your hand on his, squeezing twice before asking. 
“You okay?” 
“Huh. Oh, yeah. I-I think you should go to the field. Right now.” 
“Wait, what? But you hate that kind of-” 
He grabs your hand, dragging you out, as you both start running to the field. You keep asking as he pulls you on, getting almost no response and only a faster pace. 
And when you reach the field, you catch just the end of it and the only thing grounding you to that moment is Satoru and Utahime, who was surely the one who had texted Satoru, holding onto your shoulders. 
Salma, the cheerleader Toji picked to be his sweetheart, just asked him to homecoming during halftime. And he said yes. 
Utahime squeezes your hand three times, a soft look in her eyes when she talks. 
“I’m so sorry, Y/N. I just thought you would want to know and I wanted to tell you because you’ve been nothing but nice to me.” 
You smile, moving into her open arms as you whisper a small thank you into her shoulder. She leaves, having to return to the color guard team waiting for her on the side, leaving you and Satoru standing on the pavement right by the field. 
“Take you home?” 
“Thanks, Toru.” 
“You want Jamoca?” 
“Not today.” 
He nods, a hand on the small of your back, as he leads you to his car, even going as far as opening the door for you and letting you crack the windows while you drive back - which you know he hates. 
At the first red light, he taps on the top of your head to get your attention. 
“Penny for your thoughts?” 
“Do you think there’s something wrong with me?” 
“What? Of course, not. Toji is just an asshat who doesn’t see you for what you’re worth and-” 
“No. No, no. Not like that. Do you think there’s something wrong with me because I’m not even the tiniest bit sad right now? I’m…relieved.” 
Satoru looks over, the red front the traffic light flashing on your face, and a blank expression staring back at him. 
“Of course, not. He’s a grade one idiot. Anyone in your position would feel that way, bunny.” 
“I know. That’s true.” 
“But?” 
“Does this make me defective, Satoru? Like, maybe I just can’t like people that much or something and I was the problem.” 
Satoru twiddles his thumbs on the steering wheel, pondering the same question he has been asking for the past few days. Encourage her or be selfish. 
He can’t be selfish with you. 
“Okay, Y/N. Close your eyes.” 
“Huh?” 
“Just do it.” 
“Okay.” 
He looks over, to find you eyelids fluttering shut, your face lit up by the streetlights outside.
“Now. Tell me about your dream guy, bunny.” 
“What are you going on ab-” 
“Just do it.” 
You sigh, before thinking hard about his question. 
“Someone I can be comfortable with. That’s my type. Like we can have fun together and play games but also being around them is comforting to me. Things might suck, but at least they are there to kind of pick me up at the end of the day. They’re nice to people and are surrounded by good company, because you are who you love and they try to be better each day.” 
After finishing, you open your eyes to find Satoru staring at you, an all-knowing look on his face. 
“Bunny?” 
“Toru?” 
“Does that sound anything like Toji to you?” 
You slump back into your chair, sinking down. 
“No.” you murmur. 
“You aren’t defective. Well, maybe in the higher level cognitive thinking part because you clearly have some impaired decision making but-” 
“Hey. Don’t be rude, asshole.” 
“Get out of the car.” 
You crane your head out the window to see you’re in fact not at your house, but at the ice cream store. And when he comes around to your side of the car, opening your door, he drags you out, the two of you eating you ice cream in the light of the dingy lamp outside the store. 
--
You knock hard on your window, only stopping when Satoru looks up from his desk, dropping the pencil he was just scribbling with. You point to your walkie talkie, switching on the channel as he grabs his. 
“Hi bunny. You look nice.” 
“Thank you. Are you coming tonight?” 
To homecoming. Because despite all odds and last night, you still have to go. And crown the homecoming king and queen since you’re the class president, which you’re sure will be Salma and Toji since the universe is very, very kind to you. 
“I’m sorry. Haibara needed help designing something for next week.” 
“Oh. Okay. I wish you were.” 
“I wish I was too. His hardware is Flight of the Navigator themed so wish me luck.” 
You laugh, giving him one last smile as he pulls the curtains to his window. And when you see his navy windows against the pane you’ve stared at him through for years, it only now occurs to you. 
When he asked you to describe that last night, he unlocked something. Bringing it to your attention, to the forefront of your mind. 
The person you were describing is him. You lift your walkie talkie to your mouth, press the button, and mention the words you forgot to say. 
I love you.
And then you turn on your heel and drive yourself to the dance. 
--
Satoru ponders it for thirty minutes. 
Support her or be selfish. Support her or be selfish. Support her or be selfish. 
Be fucking selfish. 
Satoru gets up, dropping the hardware he was making for Haibara, and pulls out the first suit he can find. He grabs his walkie talkie off his desk, convinces Megumi to go beg your mom (who loves Megumi) for your walkie talkie, and then goes ninety on the freeway to get to the school on time. 
He finds Nanami first, the glob of gel on his head somehow even worse than normal and sets his plan in motion. 
“Nanami.” 
“Please, for the love of god, not tod-” 
“Go hand this to Y/N.” 
Nanami and now Shoko are taking the walkie in their hands, flipping it over and inspecting it like they’re the fucking FBI. And more importantly, wasting time. 
Three feet away, you’re standing by the punch table, counting how many balloons are on the ceiling. You reach three hundred and fifteen when you’re approached for the first time that night, by Nanami and Shoko. 
“Nanami. What is going on with your hair? You can’t possibly need that much hair gel.”
“You would be shocked, Y/N.” 
“That's what I said to him too. But this is for you.” Shoko says.
She hands you your walkie talkie, the silver glitter coming off on your hand, as you flip it over. 
“Did you break into my house, Shoko?” 
“No. But I’m guessing Satoru did. He ran in here five minutes ago and basically yelled at us to give it to you.” 
They both shrug as they walk away and you look around, clutching the walkie talkie so hard in your hand you think you might break it. Satoru’s here.
And when you scan your eyes around the room, you see him at the front door, his eyes already fixed on yours. He’s smiling so big that it makes your heart squelch and suddenly you’re moving towards him. And as you both start walking (running) to each other, you can’t help but feel the anticipation of what’s coming. 
Except that’s right when Toji stands in the middle of the two of you, his characteristic slimy, sneer on his face. He reaches for your hand first. 
“Can we talk, Y/N?” 
"No."
You shrug your hand off, pushing right past him, as you walk closer to Satoru. You can hear Toji shouting something at you, but you’re too tunnel visioned on Satoru to pay attention. And when you reach him, you’re both smiling so big at each other, that it makes your face hurt. 
He lifts his walkie talkie to his mouth, talking first. 
“Come in, bunny?” 
“Loud and clear, Toru.” 
“I love you.” 
You can feel yourself smiling so big, so excited that you’re basically jumping on your toes, your walkie shaking in your hand. 
“I love you.” 
“Oh thank god. I was scared I was going to get a breaking and entering charge.”
You laugh, pulling him down by his tie and kissing him square on his face. And when he pulls away, ears pink and face red, you whisper against his lips. 
“It was always going to be you. I belong with you.” 
He smiles, that stupid smile you’ve stared at, loved for years and you can’t help but cheese, leaning forward to kiss him again.
--
the satoru as taylor swift songs series masterlist
taglist: @porridgesblog @platrom  @k0z3me  @kayleegomez  @yihona-san06  @bsenpai @sweetenertea  @skzismyhome  @mykyoon @violetmatcha @rebeccawinters  @luna0713hunter @shotenvinsoot @itzmeme @squirrelspoetry
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calicoheartz · 7 days
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need need need something about Caitlin dating a famous popstar, think Sabrina carpenter
☆ espresso ; Caitlin Clark
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summary : caitlin clark x pop star reader!
synopsis : you are the music scenes next hot thing , who happens to be dating worldwide famous wnba player (set a tiny bit into the future)
warnings : tiniest bit suggestive if you squint , pure fluff !
my master list ㇀♡
a/n: thank you to the lovely person who suggested this! i changed some of the lyrics in the song for it to make sense but it shouldn’t be too noticeable. Enjoy ◡̈
You were the music industry’s next hot thing. From performing at smaller venues, to headlining at Coachella; you were everywhere. Along with your wnba superstar, Caitlin Clark.
The two of you had met while you were preforming a gig at a local bar , a little right before you got your big break. Ever since then, the two of you had been inseparable. Both instantly drawn to each others passion and drive for your careers.
But with Caitlin’s demanding basketball schedule and your international shows and tours , maintaining your relationship proved to be a challenge. Only relying on calls , texts , and surprise visits whenever you can to steal a moment together amidst your busy lives.
It had been almost 3 weeks since you’ve seen your loving girlfriend. With the wnba draft and Coachella starting to kick off, the universe was simply pulling you two away from eachother.
You were sitting in your dressing room , preparing to go on stage to kick off the second weekend at the bustling festival , the biggest festival of the year for that matter. Your nerves were practically eating you alive, you knew she would be in audience. You toyed with your hair as your makeup artist finished the final touches of your look , as you fidgeted with the hem of your skirt. The skirt that perfectly hugged your curves , delicately adorned with lace and bows , your signature look.
You soon snapped back to reality, with the cheers from the audience slowly making its way into your mind. There was no doubt in your mind that this was the moment that could make or break your career. You planned on preforming your newly released song espresso , as a way to give your girlfriend a little treat on her first day back.
You made your way to the stage , sporting your signature beach waves and skimpy clothes, the intro to the song soon began and your eyes darted across the crowd. Begging to meet with the one pair of eyes you can call her own.
You hear the crowd begin to chant your name , you lock eyes with Caitlin briefly, sending a smirk your way. Prompting you to slowly begin to sway your hips as you begin to sing..
❝ now she’s thinkin’ ‘bout me every night oh, is it that sweet? I guess so ❞
you turn towards caitlin , seeing a big grin on her face , as she very well knows the melodic tune is referencing your whirlwind romance. Your hips continue to sway as the lyrics danced off the tip of your tongue , hitting every note in the process.
❝ And i got this one girl
And she won’t stop calling
when they act this way..
I know i got ‘em ! ❞
The crowd begins to scream , noticing your small wink towards caitlin , making it painfully obvious of your ode to her throughout the song
As the lyrics then again roll off your tongue like sweet honey, you continue to prance around the stage earning gasps and applause from the audience, and most importantly; a hungry gaze from your girlfriend. Her eyes practically undressed you as they wandered from your hips to your face, and vice versa. You immediately felt butterflies in your stomach, it had been so long since shes looked at you with those eyes. And as much as you wanted to jump off the stage and into her arms, you only had to finish the rest of the chorus and verse before concluding your set.
You began…
❝ I'm working late 'cause I'm a singer…Oh, she looks so cute wrapped around my finger! ❞
The music continues and you feel as if you are on cloud nine. If this doesnt fully establish your relationship with cait, then youre not sure what will. You practically feel her eyes burning into you as you resume your soft sways, slowly becoming more provocative as you reach near the end of the song. You hair slowly flows with the gentle breeze, as you shoot a glance towards your girlfriend, receiving a approving nod in return. You hear your cue, and make your way to the front to face the audience head on, you quickly hit your iconic signature pose while belting
❝ Mmm, that's that me espresso❞
And the audience erupts with claps and chants as you quickly exit the stage, locking eyes with your manager who signals you to head to the back. As you make your way down there, you feel a strong and warming embrace wrapped around your hips, with soft kisses peppering your neck. “Cait!” you squealed, unable to hide your excitement to see the brunette, she grins at your reaction, snaking her arm beneath you as she slowly begins to carry you to your dressing room.
She soon gently puts you down, as she gently begins caressing your cheek. “You did amazing” she muttered, “everytime you preform you never refuse to amaze me with the amount of talent that you have-” you cut her off with a deep and tender kiss, tasting the mango flavored lipbalm that glistened on her lips.
You giggle, simply muttering , youre my honey bee.. Come get this pollen ;)
anywaysss this is my go at pop star reader x cc !! tbh i feel like this is train wreck but you be the judge of that! tysm for reading 🎀
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angelicsjn · 1 year
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LATEN REED.
Laten didn't believe in love at first sight. He never felt much for anyone at all, really.
He would hop from one person to another, hoping to feel something. Even if it only lasted a few minutes.
This caused himself quite the reputation, a good-looking guy, talented and popular but also a player.
Some people saw him as a challenge, as a trophy to say, 'I fucked him too.' While others decided to stay as far as possible.
Deep down, all he truly cared for was his family and rugby. That was it.
The third month into university and his reputation became a well-known thing. You were one of the few people who avoided him at all costs. If he walked one way, you'd walk the other. If he went to a party, you'd make sure you'd be far away.
Seeing the campus beauties hanging around him, grabbing his big and muscular arms, playing with the soft curls of his hair, complimenting his beautiful green eyes, he'd smile back, act shy, and shrug. So humble!!
All in all, Laten Reed wasn't a very likeable person, and you most definitely did not like him.
You could see right through that little act of his, and with time, it made your blood boil.
Fifth month into university, a party on a Sunday. Who decided a Sunday party would be wise? You went anyway, after an hour of begging from your flatmates.
One of your friends, Maddie, recently became friends with Laten's close knit group, and she couldn't wait for you to meet them all! You wanted to scream and cry and hide..
A game of spin the bottle, you won a once in a lifetime opportunity! Fifteen minutes locked in the bedroom with Laten Reed. THE Laten Reed. How lucky!!
Laten didn't even know who you were before that night. You were some insignificant person that blended in the crowd, so why would he know you? Obviously, you weren't worthy of his acknowledgement.
That's what you'd assume anyway. You expected his mindset to he exactly that when, in reality, it was quite the opposite.
Did he know you before that party? No. He didn't. But once he locked eyes on your form an hour before the game of spin the bottle, he couldn't look away.
Laten couldn't really understand why, you ghosted yourself around the people, you didn't speak to anyone outside your little bubble and it was almost like you did everything in your power to not gain attention and yet at the same time you had his full attention.
He realised you were friends with Maddie. It took him a while to register that fact because he was so invested in you and the mystery of you.
How had he never seen you before?
That's when he wormed his way in using the mutual friend to force interaction between you two. But that didn't work. You avoided even looking his way.
Why didn't you like him? He wanted to see you properly, but you hid yourself behind shy hands and hair.
Skipping to the fated game, you filled with dread when the bottle landed on you both. He noticed it. He had been watching you all night. He saw every emotion that flickersd across your masked features, and it annoyed him that he couldn't see more.
Unlike yourself, he felt lucky to be able to be stuck in a room for fifteen minutes with you.
You begrudgingly followed behind. He locked the door as told and watched as you sat on the bed awkwardly. Looking at your lap and it was like he could hear you mentally chanting, "I want to go, I want to go, I want to go."
You expected him to move onto you, sit beside you with a hand on your thigh, whispering against your ear and you shudder at the thought, but instead, he sat on the floor in front of you, crossing his legs with green eyes looking up at you.
If your distaste towards him wasn't so big, you'd have found him sweet. Cute. Innocent. Three things he most definitely wasn't. You immediately shook those thoughts out of your mind.
Yet he watched you, he could see your features better and God, you were mesmerising. He had never felt that way before, not about anything or anyone.
For once, Laten didn't want to prove his reputation to be true. He didn't want to sexualise the moment. He just wanted to watch. To look. Admire.
How you played with your fingers. Looked at the floor, avoiding contact. How you awkwardly shifted on the bed attempting to appear comfortable.
"I'm Laten." He said, simple. He knew you'd know. Everyone knew Laten. He just wanted to speak. To hear you speak to him. "Y/N." You replied, quiet, yet blunt, and he smiles. You noticed his smile, sweet. Cute. Innocent.
You could almost understand why girls easily got so used by him. He was beautiful. His sparkly eyes watched you, the smile lingered on his pretty lips, and you almost felt your heart beat faster than usual.
Nothing compared to him, though. He was enchanted by you.
From then on, you noticed him look at you a lot on campus, each party you both attended. He began to show up in places you hadn't seen him in before, and he'd smile that smile, and each time, you'd momentarily forget his reputation.
Little did you know, he didn't go to these places by chance, oh no. He followed. Since the day he saw you, he'd watch you. Forever. Watching. Admiring. Observing.
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dark-kind-of-mystique · 8 months
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𝑶𝒃𝒆𝒚 𝒎𝒆 𝑵𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕𝒃𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒓 𝑳𝒆𝒔𝒔𝒐𝒏 22 𝑺𝒑𝒐𝒊𝒍𝒆𝒓𝒔
Okay, so MC lost their magic. Does that mean that the connection of their pacts with the present brothers is gone too? If so, imagine the angst potential
𝑳𝒖𝒄𝒊𝒇𝒆𝒓, who has been desperately striving to keep his cool for the sake of his brothers, felt his blood run cold and his breath hitch when he couldn't feel your connection anymore. His paperwork stained from spilled ink and tears he didn't even realize had fallen from his eyes.
For the first time since you disappeared, he felt paralyzed by his own fear as he could feel himself succumb to despair.
𝑴𝒂𝒎𝒎𝒐𝒏, who refused to even acknowledge the possibility of you not coming back, wailed in pain when he felt your bond fade away from existence. He was forced to face the fact that you may actually never come back.
He felt as though someone had ripped out a part of him, leaving him forever looking for the missing piece.
𝑳𝒆𝒗𝒊𝒂𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒏, who had submerged even deeper into his games and fantasy worlds to escape the emptiness of your absence, felt like the air was sucked out of the room. His game controller fell forgotten as GAME OVER appeared over his screen.
No amount of escapism will ever be enough to make him forget he's missing his player 2.
𝑺𝒂𝒕𝒂𝒏, who could feel his wrath slowly growing more uncontrollable, reached his burning point when he couldn't feel you anymore. Angry with the universe from taking you away from him, angry with himself for not being able to protect you.
His precious books were scattered across the floor, his room half destroyed as he sat quietly on the floor with silent tears in his eyes.
𝑨𝒔𝒎𝒐𝒅𝒆𝒖𝒔, who had tried to stay cheerful and positive, couldn't help the heartrending lament that left him as he broke down. He curled himself on his bed, sobbing in pain at the stabbing feeling he felt in his chest.
He kept seeing flashes of your beautiful smile, your mesmerizing eyes, and couldn't help but cry harder at the thought that he may never hear your laugh again.
𝑩𝒆𝒆𝒍𝒛𝒆𝒃𝒖𝒃, whose hunger pangs had grown in both frequency and intensity, felt as though a hole was carved in his chest, leaving him emptier than he's ever felt before. Tears blurred his vision as he fell on his knees, hands clutching his abdomen as if that would make him whole again.
Your absence left a void inside of him that his hunger could never match. A void that could never be filled no matter how much food he ate.
𝑩𝒆𝒍𝒑𝒉𝒆𝒈𝒐𝒓, who locked himself in the attic to sleep so he could dream of you, felt the world go dark when his dream version of you disappeared, leaving him alone in the dark void. He woke up with a scream, tears streaming down his face, overwhelmed by the feeling of your absence.
And he knew, even if he tried to escape the pain by sleeping the days away, he would still dream of you. He will never break free of the pain of losing you, not even indulging in his sin.
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woso-dreamzzz · 5 months
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Hurt
Hardersson x Child!Reader
Part of The Big Adventures Universe
Summary: You fall
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It all happens so quickly.
One minute you're holding Sam's hands, walking up icy, stone steps at half-time and the next you've lost your footing.
Your crumpled body lies at the very bottom, your head making impact with each and every step on your way down. The players yet to retreat to the locker are horrified and the crowd is as well.
You're very much a staple at Chelsea matches, almost as famous as your mothers and people delight in getting you to sign Harder and Eriksson jerseys.
It's like a scene out of a particularly disturbing movie to see you in a heap at the bottom of the stairs.
To make it even worse, you're not moving.
Sam, in particular, looks like she's going to be sick - caught between staring at your unmoving body and the hand that you had been holding previously. She takes the stairs two at a time to get down to reach you, where coach Emma has already got a hand on your neck, checking your pulse.
"Someone get Pernille and Magda," She orders and Jessie takes off at a run," And for fuck's sake, where are the medics?!"
You come to as she's yelling and try to lift your head. It's pounding in agony and you can feel every bit of movement like you're on fire.
"No, no, y/n," Coach Emma says softly, pressing your head back down," Don't move. Stay very still."
In an instant, you burst into tears. You're disorientated and confused and the pain is enough to make you want to curl into a ball and die. In particular, a spot right in the middle of your forehead feels icky and wet in a way that you don't like.
Even though you're crying, you do as Coach Emma says because she's very smart and looks after you sometimes when Momma and Morsa are playing.
You can hear clamouring behind you, both from voices you recognise and those you don't.
You scream and sob into the ground as hands go onto your back.
The medics.
"Hey, kiddo," One of them says in their soft voice," We're going to roll you over, okay? I need you to be very brave for me and stay flat on your back."
Hands are on your little shoulders as you're flipped over. The brightness of the winter sun makes you wince and screw your eyes shut. You cry even louder, huge, gut-wrenching screams accompanying them.
When you open your eyes again, it's to a permanent redness in one of them.
Blood.
Blood from your icky and too-wet forehead.
It makes you scream and sob all over again.
One of the medics shines a light in your eye and makes you follow his finger.
"Pupils are uneven," He says to Coach Emma but your English isn't working properly so you don't understand what he's saying," And slow response to tracking my finger. Where are Pernille and Magda?"
"Coming," Sam insists but she sounds shaky and can't even bring herself to look at you. Pernille and Magda had trusted her to get you safely to the locker room. You should have already been there, snacking on goldfish crackers and wrapped up tight in your baby blanket. But you're on the ground with your head split open and what looks to be a concussion.
Because she couldn't keep a hold of your hand.
"They're coming."
The medic smiles down at you with a smile you recognise. It's the same smile Momma gives you when she doesn't want you to worry.
You're very scared to see it on someone else's face.
"Someone's going to hold your head, y/n," He says," And we're going to move you onto this stretcher and get you some help. Okay? You're being very brave."
You don't know what he's saying.
All of your English is gone and you don't know where your mothers are.
You scream and sob as you're moved, placed in a stretcher by the medics and taken inside.
The crowd claps you inside like you're a player but all you're focussing on is the running forms of your mothers.
"Momma, Morsa," Are the broken words that come out of your mouth.
They both look half to tears themselves.
"It's okay, princesse," Morsa says to you, thankfully in Swedish," It's all going to be okay. You're so brave. You're so good, babygirl."
Morsa doesn't call you babygirl often. Almost always y/n or princesse unless she feels scared. When she's scared, it's always babygirl. You whine and weakly reach out to her. She kisses your little hand as Momma takes her place.
Morsa disappears from your vision and you're carted away to the treatment room so you don't see her grab Sam by the jersey and slam her against the wall.
"Hi, princesse," Momma says as she joins you, holding your hand tightly. She's speaking Danish, low and comforting like your bedtime stories. "You're doing so well. Just a little longer."
The pain hasn't lessened and you can't even nod without a wave of nausea running through your little body.
You zone out completely as you're lifted into her arms and braced against her. You try to wriggle away when the doctor approaches to sew up your still-bleeding forehead but Momma's grip is iron-tight and you don't have the energy to fight for long.
Your tears run down your cheeks as you cry. As soon as he pulls away, you gag and your breakfast leaves your stomach. It makes you sob even more, unaware of why you've even thrown up.
"Concussion," The doctor says to Momma," For certain."
Her hold on you tightens as she mops up your face and the front of your shirt. "How bad?"
"She did lose consciousness briefly," The doctor says," But it's not grade three...barely."
Momma nods, finally deciding to just take off your t-shirt as you whine and weakly tug at it. Your eyes slide closed for a few moments in your sudden drowsiness but you force them open each time.
"She'll be okay? She...It's just she's so little. Are you sure?"
"She'll be fine. No screen time, no sports, lots of water. If she throws up more than twice a day, passes out or has a seizure, take her right to the hospital. I don't recommend her going back onto the pitch because of the noise. She needs a nice, quiet place to start her recovery."
Momma nods and takes you out of the room. You tuck yourself into the crook of her neck as she walks you to the locker room.
Morsa is waiting outside, pacing but lights up when she sees you both. Momma reports everything to her as she inspects your head. You try to move away from her grip but sag in exhaustion when Morsa takes you in her arms.
"I scared Sam," She reports," Like, really scared her. I just saw red."
"You have to apologise."
"Later." Morsa waves it away as she changes your shirt, being as delicate and careful as possible. "Emma said we don't have to stay. She's already put people on in our places. We...We should get her home."
"Magda...It's okay to cry."
The dam breaks in that instant and Morsa holds you tighter, one arm around your little body and the other around the back of your head, holding you against her as she sobs into your hair.
You whine a little, completely drained but slump against her, soaking in the comfort and warmth of Morsa. You feel a little better now that you're wrapped up with your mothers, protected in a nice little bubble away from everything outside.
You stick your hand out behind you, where you know Momma is. She joins you, taking your hand and covering you in your baby blanket. It's been oversized since they bought it so it covers your body and head easily.
It drapes over you and a bit of Morsa's shoulder. It plunges you into near darkness. It's nice. To not have to be blinded by the bright lights.
"She-She fell," Magda says as she sobs to Pernille," There's already a video up. It was icy and she slipped. Pernille, she hit every step. We're lucky she didn't break her neck."
"But she didn't. Magda, she didn't. She's right here. She's safe. She's going to be better in a few weeks."
Magda nods but doesn't quite look like she believes it.
"Let's go home," Pernille says," We'll get back. You can baby proof the whole house like I know you want to and we'll cuddle her to death."
Magda sighs but nods again. You're completely limp in her grip, still awake but just barely. Your movements are sluggish and tinged with drowsiness. Your cut has been sewn shut and the bruising is minimal right now but it still kind of aches a little bit.
You look extra cute in an oversized Harder jersey to make up for the t-shirt you had thrown up over. Your baby blanket is tight around you and you smile up at your mothers sleepily.
"Sam probably feels terrible," Pernille says as she gently guides Magda out of the locker room and stadium," I think we'll get a gift package delivered soon."
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