#please read the manga immediately | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

Visit Blog

Explore Tumblr blogs with no restrictions, modern design and the best experience.

Fun Fact

In 2020, 44% of users from Denmark used Tumblr daily.

#please read the manga immediately

bountycancelled · 7 months

Text

OPLA characters reacting to a sweet, girly reader who turns out to be a a ruthless fighter

genre: headcanons, fem! reader, kinda suggestive??, idfk just read it bro

requested: nope, but reqs are open! pls, for the love of god, request for the opla♡

feat: zoro, sanji

a/n: reader's feminine but not female if that makes sense, only witting again because I'm obsessed with the one piece live action. also, this may be a little ooc, since I haven't watched the anime/read the manga, sorry about that! also, if you wanna be added to my perm taglist, pls feel free to ask!

☆ZORO☆

when you first joined the crew, zoro was immediately unsure of what exactly you brought to the table. I mean, they already had a swordsman, a sharp shooter, a navigator, a dumb cook and a captain/motivational speaker. so what were you doing here?

from luffy's explanation of you, he was aware that you were a good fighter, but he had never seen you in action.

the only things he had seen from you were stuffed animals laying around the ship, pastel outfits he could spot for miles, and bows that had been put in his hair while he slept.

he was tolerant of you at best, and straight up apathetic at worst, but finally, there came a time where someone tried picking a fight with you since you seemed like an easy target while you were walking with him and nami.

although he wasn't particularly fond of you (lies), he still felt the need to defend you as a crewmate, but the ass whooping you gave the stranger made him freeze in place.

there was blood splatter on your pretty face, deep red sploches of your cute clothes, and a look of pure hatred in your eyes. and you had never looked more beautiful in zoros eyes.

that was the first time zoro had ever smiled at you. sure, he had slightly smirked at your cuter tendencies, but in that moment he was truly smitten with you.

from that day, zoro wanted to train with you. what you lacked that he had in experience, you made up for in absolute cruelty when fighting. you were quick, agile and you weren't afraid to make zoro hurt, and he loved every second of it.

zoro would sometimes smile when he saw bruising on his body from his time training with you but catch himself and go stone faced immediately. no, he was not falling for you, absolutely not.

except he was, and the next time you showed up by his side with a slight limp, some tears in your cotton candy coloured clothes, blood all over you, and a sadistic smile on your face, he would tell you as much.

SANJI♡

sanji is unsurprisingly, enamoured by you the second you join the straw hats.

I'm talking, looking at you like you hung the stars in the sky, cheesy and constant compliments like "you're cuter than any of your stuffed animals, yn-swan~" and even brushing up on his baking skills to bake you aesthetically pleasing sweet treats that always put a smile on your face.

if I'm being completely honest, it doesn't bother him that he doesn't know exactly what your strengths are, you could be amazing at everything like barbie or you could literally not know night from day and he'd still admire you all the same.

one day, you're wearing bottoms that are on the shorter side not that sanji minds at all and you're out exploring the island you're at with him by your side, holding all your bags because in his words "angels don't do hard labour when he's around" when someone decides to hit on you.

you reject them politely, but when they make a less than appropriate comment about your outfit, you click your tongue and shake your head, readying yourself to hospitalise someone.

sanji's mood switches to one of being happy because he's around you to one of murderous intent the second this rando tries you, but you already have them wheezing on the floor with broken nose before sanji can even lift his leg off of the ground.

you're back to usual self, fixing the bow on your hair while complaining about how fucking hard it is to get blood stains off of your clothes, while sanji is thinking about how fucking hard he is

safe to say that this heartless, terrifying side of you makes sanji fall even harder and question whether or not he's a masochist.

he'll still insist on doing things like carrying you anywhere (most of your shoes you impractical as fuck, but style>functionality always) lifting things for you and treating you like a piece of fine china because that's exactly what you deserve, no matter how badass you are.

only difference is, now he'll never come to aid when it comes to kicking ass, because he enjoys seeing you take people to heaven and back more than anything.

he compliments now range from "omg you are the most adorable, lovable, doll-like angel I've ever seen" to "please punch me, step on me, make my nose bleed, choke me-" and he's now ten times more annoying about you than he was before, which no one thought was possible.

believe me when I say that images of you in frilly outfits with your eyes gleaming like diamonds eveytime you make someone bleed occupy 90% of his thoughts. (the other 10% is all things cooking, of course.)

#opla #one piece x reader #one piece live action #x reader #reader insert #roronoa zoro #zoro live action #zoro x reader #vinsmoke sanji #sanji #sanji live action #sanji x reader #one piece #one piece headcanons

6K notes · View notes

forlix · 1 month

Text

𝐚𝐜𝐞・h.h.

— volleyball superstar and your personal hell hwang hyunjin proposes a trade-off you can't refuse: his matchmaking services for a passing anthropology grade. the plan is foolproof in theory; in practice, it is something else entirely.

words・15.2k

pairing・volleyball player!hyunjin x tutor!reader (gn)

genres・college!au, sports!au, fake enemies to friends to lovers, fluff, humor, hurt/comfort, slice of life, mutual pining, slow burn. two polar opposites sharing one soul. a seungjin fic if u squint. loosely inspired by the manga/anime haikyuu!!

warnings・mentions of anxiety, fear of failure, heartbreak, loneliness, and self-image. course language and callous banter (as always) ft. suggestive flirting and one kms joke. some of the referenced players and coaches are real; this fic is not.

playlist・collision by stray kids・value by ado・waiting for us by stray kids・eternity by bang chan・dreaming by smallpools・fly high!! by burnout syndromes

a/n・writing this felt like returning to my roots tbh. i love volleyball and i love sports aus and i love, love hwang hyunjin. thank u to my sahar for bringing this fic to life with me, as always; i can no longer write for him without also writing for you. i hope u guys enjoy reading this as much as i adored writing it. happy late birthday, our jinnie, our hyunjin, our forever ace; you are so unbelievably loved ♡

“Not a word out of you,” you say, tossing your backpack onto the floor of the lecture hall with a heavy-handed flick. “I’m serious.”

Hyunjin glances up at you with a frown. “When did people stop saying good morning?”

Your lack of an immediate comeback tells him the situation is dire. He observes you for a moment, his mouth falling open, hanging still, then curving into a slow, serpentine smile.

“Look at me.”

“No.”

“Look at me.”

“No.”

“Please, angel.”

“No! Leave me alone.”

Hyunjin slumps back into his seat, thinking hard. The solution occurs to him with a poke of his tongue into his cheek. “Coffee on me for a week.”

At this, your hands stop rummaging in your bag. You cock your head, your interest piqued. Got you.

When you finally humor him and turn around, you’re flinching like you’re in pain, eyes closed and breath held and all. He giggles and leans in for a closer look. Tendrils of your body spray reach him from here, floral and light like a tropical coastline. He could’ve counted your eyelashes if he wasn’t so flummoxed by the state of your forehead.

“What the hell did you do?”

“Tried to cut my own bangs,” you sigh. “It didn’t go very well and now I look like Rock Lee.”

Hyunjin lets out a forceful laugh. “You’ve seen Naruto?”

You open your eyes. Only then does Hyunjin remember how little distance he left between your faces, when he’s staring straight into them and all the strange, starry speckles they hold.

The air between you curdles like sour milk.

Things are awkward between you often, he’s realized recently. What’s more, he didn’t think he was capable of being awkward with anyone anymore until he met you. It was your ill-fated seat that he chose to sit next to on the first day of ANTH 111, your ill-fated lap onto which he chose to spill his Americano, and the rest was history (or, in this case, anthropology). His tongue ends up in sailor’s knots with every smart-aleck comment and pitiful laugh you’ve given him since. Maybe there’s more to it, maybe there isn’t—Hyunjin doesn’t think about it much. He doesn’t like thinking in general.

You pull away from each other in unison. You clear your throat, glancing elsewhere.

“Of course I’ve seen Naruto,” you quip, and everything is normal again. “Why do you seem surprised?”

“Because you’re so scholarly.”

“I am not scholarly.”

He raises an eyebrow. “You go to a park to play chess with old people on weekends.”

“I need to get my steps in somehow.”

“You didn’t know what Urban Dictionary was until I told you to look up—”

“God, I learned so much about you that day."

“Your favorite social media platform is Quizlet,” he bursts, exasperated. “Quizlet.”

“It is not.” An introspective pause. “Or is it?”

“I wouldn’t be surprised.” Hyunjin throws his feet up on the chair below him, jabs in your direction with a bandaged finger. “There is no way you enjoy watching 2D men beat each other up in your free time. I don’t buy it.”

“Honestly, I thought you’d have more to say about my current appearance than my hobbies.”

He does, though. Matter of fact, he’s been curating a list since this conversation started: Vector from Despicable Me, Dora the Explorer’s hot older sibling, Spock. You face-planted into a lawnmower. You mistook a paper shredder for a hat. It goes on.

But then his head turns. Your eyes meet again. He’s reminded that it’s hard to sustain an inner monologue and look at you at the same time, Vector resemblance and all.

He reaches up, nudges a lock of your hair over a centimeter or so, and gives the patch of forehead a gentle flick.

“Watermelon,” he mumbles with a sickening smile.

You divert your attention to your lecture notes with a disappointed click of your tongue. “You’re getting soft.”

He spends the entire lecture daydreaming about tropical coastlines.

“I only get coffee from that one place on the east side of campus, by the way,” you say as you’re strolling out the building together, “and I get it a very specific way. Can you handle it?”

“Your faith gets me out of bed in the morning,” Hyunjin deadpans. “I’ll handle it, love. Text me your order.”

All of a sudden, you position your hands close to your stomach, the lapels of your jacket casting them in shadow. Your fingers begin to move in a sequence that he’d recognize anywhere.

“Body flicker jutsu,” you whisper, and then you’re scurrying off without another word—but you do glance back at him to gauge his response. Your smile is purely effulgent, your laugh but a faint sigh against the main quad’s busy thrum.

Hyunjin gapes at your retreating figure for so long that phosphenes start prancing around his field of view. Then he heads to the gym. His heart is pounding against his ribs like a battering ram.

“Hwang, I need you in my office.”

Hyunjin stops lacing up his shoes to see Coach Bang standing on the court’s sideline with a grim air about him. He glances at his captain, confused.

“Don’t look at me,” Minho says mid-stretch. “Godspeed.”

“Thanks, cap.” Useless.

Head volleyball coach Christopher Bang’s workspace reminds Hyunjin of a morgue. It’s all fluorescent lights and spotless white walls, the only decorative fixture a picture of his siblings, parents, and dog in front of the Sydney Opera House, framed and facing him atop his desk. Hyunjin once snuck the thing into the bathroom, an innocent plot to satiate his curiosity, and promptly discovered the man’s propensity for violence. He’s packing beneath those dry-cleaned polos, by the way.

Hyunjin closes the door and takes a seat. Bang taps a knuckle against the tempered glass of his monitor. “You can read, right?”

“Yes, coach,” he sighs. Everyone’s expectations for him are subterranean.

From: Park Jinyoung «[email protected]» To: Bang “Christopher” Chan «[email protected]» Subject: Not good See email from Hwang’s antopology professor below . He submitted the complete script of the Trolls movie instead of his mid term paper and now he’s failing the class . Not good . Sort out ASAP JP Sent from my iPad

Bang snatches up his mouse and scrolls, his ears turning scarlet. “Wrong email.”

“Yep.”

From: Kim Kyeyoung «[email protected]» To: Park Jinyoung «[email protected]» Subject: Regarding Hwang Hyunjin To Director of Athletics Park, I am writing to inform you that, as of yesterday, Mr. Hwang Hyunjin has a D- (64.9%) in ANTH 111: Cultural Anthropology, due to his submission of the complete script of a kids’ movie instead of his midterm paper. It is disappointing to see Mr. Hwang trivialize and ridicule my class to such a degree. Please see to it that he reorganizes his priorities lest his Student-Athlete Participation Agreement do so for him. Regards, Kim Kyeyoung Professor of Anthropology

“That’s bullshit!”

“We’re in agreement there.” Bang folds his arms over his chest, throws his foot over his knee. “Do you know what your Student-Athlete Participation Agreement says?”

“Does anyone?” Hyunjin scoffs. Bang whips out a form and brings it to eye level, the thing covered from top to bottom in microscopic Times New Roman. “No way you just had that.”

“I had it delivered ten minutes ago,” Bang confesses, then clears his throat and begins to recite. “All student-athletes must complete the academic term with a C or higher in all courses, should they wish to continue their participation in athletics thereafter.”

Hyunjin stiffens. “What the fuck? I’ve never heard—”

“If any Department of Athletics personnel,” Bang continues, raising his voice, “have reason to believe that a student-athlete will not be able to satisfy this requirement, they are encouraged to utilize resources such as academic advising or peer tutoring in guiding said student-athlete back onto the correct path.”

He shoves the piece of paper across his desk. “Read that name aloud for me.”

Hyunjin stares at the signature at the bottom of the page, scrawled so carelessly that most of it deviates away from its designated line. There is a rare hollowness in his chest that he recognizes as anxiety. With it comes a glimpse of a life without volleyball, the question of what little of him would remain.

“Hwang Hyunjin,” he says under his breath.

The office goes silent. Bang tucks the form back into his drawer. It closes with a gentle click.

Then comes the yelling.

“The Trolls movie? Trolls?! Are you fucking with me, Hwang?”

“It was a cultural reset! The pinnacle of modern media! How’s that for anthropology?”

“BAD!” Bang explodes, gesturing to the email emphatically. “VERY, VERY BAD!”

Hyunjin slumps over, dejected.

“You’ve never had trouble with school before.” He leans over his desk imposingly. “What the hell happened this semester? What changed?”

Nothing is the first answer that comes to mind, but Hyunjin’s pulse spikes like a lie detector. Upon the inside of his eyes replays a scene of a certain someone with watermelon bangs doing teleportation jutsu at him from a few yards away, wearing a smile made of some kind of space dust that astronomists haven’t discovered yet.

He grits his teeth, annoyed. This is what happens when he thinks.

“Beats me,” he fibs. “Typical junior year stress, maybe.”

“Does any of it have to do with Piazza?”

Hyunjin shudders.

It just might, actually.

Modesty has no place in the career he’s had: high school national champion turned ace hitter in both the South Korean U21 roster and regular rotation for Seoul National University, the best collegiate volleyball team in the country. His name has lived at the top of ranking lists and the center of gold medals since he turned old enough to qualify for them; the press believes him the instigant of South Korea’s imminent volleyball revolution. It’s a mouthful, he knows.

It was never a question that he would go professional; the question was who he should talk to and where he would go.

At the start of the school year, Bang, acting in place of the agent he was advised to find and never bothered to, gave him a list of people to reach out to. On the very top was none other than Roberto Piazza, the chairman and head coach of Allianz Milano, one of the most eminent club teams in the world—and current home to Hyunjin’s personal idol, outside hitter Ishikawa Yuki.

Hyunjin thought his poor coach had finally succumbed to his old age. The thought of stepping onto the same court as Ishikawa felt sacrilegious, let alone donning the red, white, and navy blue of Allianz Milano with him. But Bang slapped him on the back of the neck and reminded him that going professional was equal parts preparation and opportunity; he was never going to know the answers to questions he didn’t ask. Hyunjin was coerced to fire off an introductory email despite his reservations.

Piazza replied within the week.

For the last five months, Hyunjin has been fighting with tooth and nail to manage his expectations. He scrolls past the team’s social media posts like they burn his eyes. He replies to Piazza’s emails right before working out with Changbin under the assumption that whatever the shredded libero does to him will eviscerate his brain. If his world is made of dreams, this is the one at its very core, imbued with destructive potential the second it became attainable.

But that’s the last five months. The last five weeks have been you kicking him in the shin because he’s laughing (or trying to make you laugh) and the professor is staring; you listening to him rant and rave about volleyball when he knows you couldn’t care less about the sport; you relaying the contents of your class readings like hot gossip, your eyes wild and hands flying around because you can’t contain your excitement. You, you, you.

He cards a hand through his air, regaining focus. “You know how I feel about Piazza.”

“Expect the worst, hope for the best.” Bang’s chair skids backwards as he stands up. “I think it’s a good approach.”

Suddenly, he is directly in front of Hyunjin, low enough to meet his eyes. His hands rest upon his shoulders firmly.

“But hope is hungry, and it will consume you if you let it,” he says. “Do not let it, Hyunjin. I’m not asking.”

Even while being squeezed to a pulp and regarded with the cold intensity of a statue, Hyunjin can’t help but feel anchored, somehow, to the floor of this miserable office. Protected.

Bang lets go of him. “I’m not asking you to find a tutor by the end of the week, either.”

Hyunjin groans. “Yeah, yeah. I’m on it.”

A set of bandaged fingers appear in your periphery to place a paper cup onto your laptop. Accompanying the smell of fresh coffee is that of smoky rose, as decidedly douchey as ever.

“I thought you said your order was complicated.”

You look up from your phone to see Hyunjin plop into the adjacent seat. His long, caramel-colored hair is damp and unstyled in the aftermath of a morning shower, droplets of water pearling on the lapels of a navy blue windbreaker, layered over a white long sleeve. You recognize the outfit by now as game gear.

“Was it not?” You ask.

“It was an Americano, love. I walked up to the cashier and placed an order for an Americano.”

“Well, I wasn’t sure if you could handle that much.” He flips you off as you squint at the cup. “Someone wrote their number on the lid, by the way.”

“What? Really?”

“No.”

He shoves you hard enough for your upper body to drape over the opposite armrest; you’re still cackling by the time you’ve straightened up again.

“Why did you get this, anyway?” Hyunjin grumbles. “I thought you had a sweet tooth.”

“I do, but you don’t.”

Only then does the fool understand that you had no intention of charging him in coffee just for a haircut reveal. He takes back the coffee hesitantly.

“Thanks,” he says at last. “Nice of you.”

“I know, right? Hated it,” you respond, and he almost chokes on his first sip.

You almost choke on nothing when Kim Seungmin materializes in the aisle adjacent. He holds out a hand in Hyunjin’s direction. “Yo.”

Hyunjin dabs it up mid-sip. “I fully forgot you were in this class.”

“Well, I’m due for my weekly appearance.” Seungmin slips into the seat directly below you, glancing at you over his shoulder. “Hey, Y/N.”

“Hi,” you say, somehow managing to stumble over the single syllable the word has. You thank your lucky stars that you fixed your hair yesterday.

You like Kim Seungmin. Not just in the cutesy, crushy way, but in the “I would relinquish all of my rights for you” way where you spend every waking moment cursing out whatever stroke of misfortune placed Hyunjin in the seat next to you instead of him. He’s funny, gorgeous, and talented—a vocal performance major with a student-athlete contract—and you think your infatuation is more than justified. Hyunjin thinks it’s hilarious.

You side-eye your blonde adversary, prepared to see one of three things: a suppressed laugh, a dramatic eye-roll, or a mature kissy face that usually results in the first option. You’re met with something far more worrisome.

He’s thinking.

That can’t be good.

Suddenly, his phone screen lights up with a text that temporarily wipes the conspiratorial gleam from his eye. Hyunjin scans it over and groans. “Can this guy do his fucking job?”

“He wouldn’t have to if you didn’t quit,” Seungmin answers. “I’ll never forget you, Manager Hwang.”

“Shut up.” You peer at Hyunjin, silently requesting an explanation. “Our captain is forcing us to help him look for a new team manager. We need one for playoffs because of some stupid U-League rule—Seung, why do you look morose?”

“I’m mourning.” Seungmin does look morose indeed. “Hyunjin committed larceny last year and our coach punished him by making him our team manager for the rest of the season. It was so funny.”

Hyunjin slides down his seat. “It was the worst experience of my life.”

Neither man seems inclined to elaborate on the mention of larceny. You choose to digress. “Can I ask why?”

“He had to be responsible,” Seungmin whispers. “For other people.”

The top of Hyunjin’s head stops right next to your armrest. You reach over and pat his hair in faux sympathy. “Poor thing.”

“Hardass refused to do it again this year, so now we’re recruiting.” Seungmin props an elbow upon the back of his chair, looks at you contemplatively. “I don’t suppose you have four hours to spare every day.”

Hyunjin scoffs from below you. Loudly. “This one? Team manager?”

“I can see it.”

“I can see killing myself, maybe.”

The next time you reach for him is to smack his forehead. A crisp smack resounds around the barren lecture hall, and Hyunjin cusses into his seat cushion.

“Seems like a great candidate to me,” Seungmin muses, and the warm smile he gives you mirrors onto your face before you can think better of it. God, it’s pretty. You wonder how it would feel pressed against your own.

Hyunjin is now completely out of sight and halfway onto the floor. “I miss when you didn’t come to class, Seungmin.”

Eighty minutes later, you’ve just emerged from the classroom when Seungmin calls out to you. You come to such a sudden halt that Hyunjin almost trips over you, but you barely notice him stumble, utterly enraptured by the hand Seungmin brings to the strands of hair by your ear, the fingers that dust your cheek as they pluck a small piece of lint from out of the tresses.

“Sorry.” He flicks it away with a sheepish smile. “I couldn’t unsee it.”

You manage to thank him just before your whole body ceases to function. Hyunjin sidesteps the two of you, yawning.

Seungmin excuses himself not too long after you reach the main quad. You also turn to leave, sparing Hyunjin a curt farewell in the process. He hooks his pointer finger around the handle at the top of your backpack and lugs you backwards with infuriating ease.

“I didn’t like that at all,” you say.

“I don’t care. I have something to tell you.”

“You have a kid, don’t you?”

“Wha—huh? Who do you think I am?”

“The one-night-stand’s poster child. The champion of the contraception industry.”

“Yeah, contraception industry. It’s right there in the name.”

You can’t argue with that. “What do you have to tell me?”

A shadow of hesitation flits across Hyunjin’s face. Your smile falters. Is it possible that you’re about to have a serious conversation with him for the first time? Maybe you should’ve saved the secret son bit for another time.

“I’m failing anthro.”

So much for a serious conversation.

“Come again?”

He repeats the mystifying statement.

“You’re joking.” The look on his face says otherwise, though, and your eyebrows disappear into your hair. “You’re failing anthro?”

“I just said that, yes.”

“You’re failing anthropology?”

“Mhm.”

“Just so we’re clear—you’re failing Introduction to Cultural Anthropology?”

“Yes. I’m glad you’re having fun.”

This is the best day of your life. “I didn’t even know that was possible.”

“Yeah, well, our professor has no media literacy,” he mutters.

“What?”

“Nothing.” Hyunjin clears his throat. “Anyways, I was thinking—”

“Wow! Congratulations. That’s a big—oomf—”

Hyunjin puts his entire hand over your face. Your mangled noises of protest go unacknowledged.

“I was thinking,” he continues, pushing your head around like a stick shift, “you and I can work out some kind of deal.”

You shove his wrist off you with a revolted groan. “I think I just ate some athletic tape.”

“Happens. You wanna hear the deal or not?”

“Does it involve ingesting more sports equipment?”

“Do you want it to?”

“Just tell me the deal, boy.”

“Alright.” He takes a deep breath. “If you help me pass this class, I’ll set you up with Seungmin.”

Your head performs a triple-axel on your neck. You are unable to respond for what feels like multiple hours. Finally: “I’m gonna need you to elaborate.”

“On which part?”

“All of them. Everything.”

Hyunjin sighs, then scans the courtyard. His gaze settles on the student union a little ways off. “Are you hungry?”

You pick up a sandwich and a smoothie in a state of nervous stupor. One would think it’s the prime minister you’re about to have lunch with and not an imbecilic left-side hitter eating from three different entrees at the same time.

He’s chosen a table a few yards away from a planter of flowering cherry blossom trees. You feel jealous eyes on the side of your face as you take a seat across from Hyunjin, but they don’t know that his telephone pole legs still bump against yours even with them drawn as close to your body as anatomically possible. Or that he’s drawing up a literal Ponzi scheme on your sandwich wrapper. You wager you’ve had better company.

“You like anthropology. I like listening to you talk about anthropology.” He traces over the wrapper’s left corner. “And I kinda want you to boss me around. That weird?”

“Yes, definitely,” you mumble around a mouthful of bread. “Go on.”

“Conclusion one: you should be my tutor.” He taps in place as if applying a finishing touch, then swaps to the opposite side. “You also like my teammate, but he’s neck-deep in volleyball and music this semester, which makes him hard to get a hold of—for most people.”

“Let me guess. Not for you.”

“Ten points to Ravenclaw.” His British accent is nightmarish. “Seung and I live in the same building. We get dinner when we go back from practice together. Conclusion two: you should come with us.”

“To dinner or to practice?”

“To both. Which brings us to my third and final conclusion—”

He slams a fist onto the center of the wrapper.

“—you should manage our team.”

“I knew it!” You slam the table as well, your smoothie wobbling upon impact. “You’re trying to swindle me! You can’t pay for my labor with more labor. What do you take me for?”

“It’s not labor, dumbass! Ask our last manager! He didn’t do shit!”

“Yeah? Who was your last manager?”

“Me!”

Oh, right. “But you hated it!”

“I hate everything that isn’t playing volleyball. Try again.”

You fold your arms over your chest. “You said you’d kill yourself if I managed you.”

Hyunjin starts balling up your sandwich wrapper. “It’s true. I thought about you and my coach getting along and promptly got a rash. But it makes so much sense: you do whatever you want during practice, tutor me afterwards, and then you and Seung can eyefuck over ramen or something. My coach hops off my dick, you hop on Seung’s—”

“STOP!” A girl drops her receipt not too far away, startled by your outburst. “Stop right there. I get it. Stop.”

“It’s a good plan.” He slings the paper ball towards the nearest trash can. It drops into the hole without so much as a brush against the rim. “You know it is.”

You’re loath to admit that you do. “When did you even come up with all this?”

He flicks a thumb in the direction of your anthropology class. No fucking wonder he’s failing.

“What is this, mock trial?”

The owner of this voice is the third man you’ve seen today donning that navy windbreaker, white long-sleeve combo. He has a face that reminds you of your neighbor’s cat from back home, sleek and sharp and only slightly sinister. There’s a dash of humor in his expression as he approaches your table like he’s enjoying the company of a court jester.

“Slamming tables like fuckin’ tariff lawyers,” the cat-man hums, lifting a hand in Hyunjin’s direction. “I could see it from all the way inside.”

“Captain!” Hyunjin crows, dabbing him up without missing a beat. They really do that like breathing. “Just the man I was hoping to see.”

“Really? I thought you’d be avoiding me like the rest of our homunculus team.”

“I would never.”

“You did. Yesterday. When you saw me and started running in the opposite direction.” He pauses for emphasis. “As fast as possible.”

“Well, that was yesterday. Today is a new day.” Hyunjin tosses you a proud glance. “And today, I bring you a new team manager.”

You stiffen. “I haven’t—”

“Is that so!” When the stranger smiles at you, you feel the same satisfaction you did every time the cat let you scratch her on the chin. “Music to my ears. What’s your name, cutie?”

You catch Hyunjin’s eye across the table; he nods enthusiastically as if saying go on, then. You briefly picture yourself strangling him with his own athletic tape. You then picture yourself hopping on Seungmin’s—

Rigidly, you throw a hand out to the cat-man, your face aflame.

“Y/N,” you grumble. “I’m looking forward to working with you.”

He shakes on it heartily. “Likewise. I’m Minho. Welcome to the team.”

“Yes, welcome to the team,” Hyunjin parrots, looking positively jolly. You gnash your teeth together so hard your jaw throbs.

He’s lucky that his proposal holds so much water. He’s lucky that you don’t plan to strangle him until after you try that eyefucking thing.

You do kick him under the table, though.

The team has five weeks to prepare for the Korean University League, the biggest college-level volleyball tournament in the country. You have five days to learn how the hell athletic tape works. You can’t tell which is the bigger endeavor.

“I’m going to cause him irreversible skeletal damage,” you tell Changbin.

The team’s libero is twice as kind as he is talented, a full-time sweetheart working part-time at the university’s sports medicine clinic. Only your first week on the job and you’ve already decided he’s the only person on Earth you would permit to usher you through the gym at 6:45 A.M., a roll of athletic tape pressed to your back like a pistol.

“You will not,” Changbin answers. “One, because this won’t involve his skeleton, and two, because I wouldn’t ask you to help if it did.”

“You’ve misunderstood me,” you return as the two of you stop in front of an examination room. “I want to cause him irreversible skeletal damage.”

“Oh.” He opens the door with a frown. “Oh dear.”

Inside, Hyunjin is sitting cross-legged on top of a taping table, fitted in a loose gray tee and athletic shorts. He watches in pessimistic silence as you enter the room and beeline straight towards the shelf on the right. You slip a thick binder into your hands and bury your nose inside it without so much as a greeting.

“I am going to get maimed,” Hyunjin tells Changbin.

“Have some faith, both of you,” Changbin replies sternly. You find the pages you’re looking for and begin poring over them like you’re cramming for an exam. “You’ll be fine, Jinnie. Y/N studied.”

“Studied?” He repeats. “For this?”

“I’m pretty sure Quizlets were made.”

“Three, to be exact," you interject, sticking out your hand. “Now tape me.”

Hyunjin mouths the words tape me in baffled silence. The latter obliges your request with a smile. “See? What could go wrong?”

The answer to that, actually, is a lot. Especially after Changbin gets called away to help stretch out a teammate named Felix who allegedly “sprained his ass,” leaving Hyunjin to you and your binder.

You detect no smoky rose in the air around him today, just the subtle smells of cedar and cypress—laundry detergent or shampoo, maybe. Figures he doesn’t wear that insufferable cologne to practice.

“Go easy on me, yeah?”

While Hyunjin’s tone is teasing, yours is downright somber.

“I can’t promise anything.”

With that, you turn your palms face-up in a silent request for his hand.

A few strands of hair fall into your face as you lean in for a better look. It’s the first time you’ve seen his fingers untaped; they’re pretty, long and slender and surprisingly manicured, but also battered in their delicacy, the veins running over the back of his hand and forearm prominent, his bottom knuckles discolored from the healing bruises they bear. His hard work is palpable upon the smooth skin as evidently as if tattooed.

Hyunjin says your name in close proximity. You respond with an absent hum.

“You’re not nervous, are you?”

“No. Maybe a little.” You let his hand fall free and go to rummage for supplies. “Fine, yes. Very.”

“But you made Quizlets. You’re prepared for anything.”

“That’s what I’m saying!” You realize only after spotting the gentle smile on his face that he’s making fun of you. “I hate you.”

“Actually,” he hums, “I think you care about me, love. That’s why you’re nervous.”

“Nonsense—I care about disappointing Changbin. That’s it.”

“And me. And hopping on Seungmin’s dick. All these things don’t have to be mutually exclusive.”

You try to tackle him. Hyunjin catches your hands a few inches away from his face, fingers closing around your wrists with obnoxious agility.

“Have you lost your mind?” You whisper-shout, your face on fire. “Don’t bring that up here. I’ll maim you for real.”

The laugh that explodes out of him throws his entire body backwards, turns his eyes to crescent moons and his mouth into a little rectangle. You hate that you don’t hate when that happens.

“My bad, my bad. It slipped out. I won’t—”

One incremental shift of Hyunjin’s body later, you find that you’re precariously, alarmingly close to one another.

So much so that you notice the mole beneath his left eye for the first time, that you're nearly cross-eyed looking at it. That the tip of your nose actually brushes against his before you pull away with a quiet intake of breath.

Things are awkward between you often, you’ve realized recently. You’re both professional yappers, always quick to digress, quick to find a new topic to bicker about before the awkwardness marinates. But hours later you’ll look back on the interaction and still remember how the air shifted: like a layer of dust had been blown away and something untouched and unknown was discovered just underneath.

Since you’ve met him, Hyunjin has spent more time on your nerves than on your mind. You’re not exactly losing sleep over such a circumstantial acquaintance; you know that his presence in your life will end the way it began, naturally and anticlimactically and inside the ANTH 111 lecture hall. Still, it doesn’t go unnoticed when your heart and stomach launch into an elaborate gymnastics routine in the wake of something he says or does, just as they’re doing now.

Hyunjin glances into your right eye a moment, then your left. The mole just below his left eye disappears when he smiles, the expression soft, saccharine, and sincere. How anyone casually looks the way he does is beyond your abilities of comprehension.

“Thank you,” he murmurs.

Your face continues to burn, now perhaps for different reasons. “What for?”

He lets go of your wrist, sweeps the lock of hair that keeps getting in your eyes behind the cuff of your ear.

“Caring about me.”

Then he flicks your forehead. You recoil with a quiet ow.

“Now stop stalling and tape me, dumbass.”

“Okay,” you mutter, rubbing the injury tenderly. “No need to get violent.”

It turns out the arduous taping procedure described in the instruction manual is for serious hand injuries. Hyunjin splints his fingers together for support, not rehabilitation, so it takes all of five minutes for him to talk you through his process. You finish taping both of his hands with nineteen minutes to spare. So maybe the Quizlets were overkill.

As you’re walking him down to practice, you take his hand and lift it to eye level, scanning your craftsmanship dubiously. “It’s not too tight, is it?”

“It’s perfect.” He swivels the hand around and grabs onto your entire face, the sensation by now eerily familiar. “Want another taste?”

You shove him down the stairs that remain. Unfortunately, there are only two. “You are truly grotesque.”

The gym has come to life since you arrived earlier this morning, now illuminated by shining ceiling lights in addition to the sun spilling through high, narrow windows. Most of the team has yet to step onto the court, still stretching or jogging along the sidelines: Minho and Coach Bang are talking strategy on the bench, the coach taking notes on a handheld whiteboard every now and then; Changbin is leaning over a recumbent Felix below the scoreboard, presumably trying to fix his ass.

The only one already with a ball in hand is Seungmin, setting to himself by the net. Once, twice, thrice straight up in the air, and then he glances in your direction and sends the fourth towards the left side of the court in a buoyant arc.

You only glean bits and pieces of the next few seconds. Hyunjin is at your side one moment, making a break for the net the next. His arms draw backwards in perfect synchrony. Feet hit the floor with laserlike intent. His entire body unravels like a fraying chrysalis as he rises to meet the ball, pounds it over the net and into the ground at an angle so clean that the sound of its landing resounds within your ribcage. It rebounds over the railing of the second floor and barely misses the doorway of the examination room you just emerged from.

Hyunjin drops lightly back onto his feet, following the ball’s tumultuous trajectory with proud eyes. A leftover breeze tosses a strand of hair over the bridge of your nose, and time starts moving again.

“Oi, this isn’t your backyard! Go pick that up!” Their coach booms, though his words lack their usual bitterness after what he just witnessed his ace hitter do.

Hyunjin swivels towards Seungmin first. “Crazy bitch. What the fuck was that?”

“Lower and faster. Further from the net too,” Seungmin returns. “How’d it feel?”

The grin on Hyunjin’s face reminds you of a wildfire, untamed and all-consuming and frightening in its fervor. “Like we just won everything.”

He tousles your hair as he jogs past you and back up the stairs to fetch the volleyball. Seungmin waves at you with one hand and palms another ball into his other. His face is warm and bare, his slim build flattered by his volleyball gear. You’ve witnessed few people so nice to look at and even fewer things as elegant as his setting form. But you are still thinking about Hyunjin—and you can’t move.

It is debilitating, watching somebody do the very thing they were destined for.

A little less than a week later, Hyunjin is approaching hour three of spewing hot garbage into a Word document when he decides to give up and call you.

“Hello?” He immediately starts laughing. “Where the fuck are you?”

You poke the top of your head into the shot of your ceiling, gesturing to your headband. “My face is preoccupied at the moment.”

“Oh, you have to show me. Please.”

You flip your phone up for no more than half a second. A camera shutter goes off, followed by a shriek so loud that it peaks your mic.

“Motherfucker!”

He basically sprints to his camera roll. His prize: you with your face slathered in cleanser, hair pinned back by a Miffy headband, looking like the abominable snowman if he liked cute merchandise.

“Thank you,” he says earnestly. “I’ll treasure this forever.”

“You’ll be punished, Hwang.”

“Don’t threaten me with a good time.”

You brandish your middle finger at him in response. He props his phone up against his computer screen with a chuckle.

“Aaanyways, I have a thesis statement to run by you.”

The first thing you did as Hyunjin’s tutor was help draft an email to Professor Kim, begging her to let him resubmit the two essays he royally botched. She replied with a lengthy quotation from her syllabus, specifically the section that talked about (and prohibited) resubmissions, but ended up making an exception for Hyunjin on account of the “truly piteous timbre” of his email. You fell out of your chair laughing when he read you her response.

“You should’ve opened with that.”

“I tried, hello? Someone distracted me!”

“Read. It. Before I change my mind.”

You spend a few minutes at most on the thesis itself, advising him to avoid passive voice, answer the prompt, establish a refutable argument, the works. Then he asks you a question about the research topic itself, allusions to the afterlife in Ancient Egyptian artwork, and the tutoring session takes a turn into what feels like a podcast episode.

You talk about the God of Death, Anubis, and his connections to the underworld; the elaborate, lavish funerary rituals intended to ensure the souls of the dead traveled safely; the vibrant murals that flanked their final resting spots as pictorial requests for divine protection. And you talk about them all with such confidence, such eloquence, that it’s as if you’re leading him through a history museum rather than talking to your phone as you do your skincare. He could listen to you for hours. He does, actually.

Around 1 A.M., Hyunjin stops typing mid-sentence when you come into frame for the first time, collapsing into your bed with a sigh of relief. Your eyes are soft and sleepy as they blink at your screen, strands of damp hair clinging to your cheeks. He feels his heart physically shift inside his ribcage when your mouth stretches into a yawn. It is the same sensation as the time you shot him a smile over your shoulder and he couldn’t move for ten minutes.

With that, his attention span has run its course.

“Baby,” he interrupts gently. “Let’s stop here, okay? You seem tired.”

You open your mouth as if to protest, only to yawn again.

“I suppose I am. Will you keep working tonight?”

“I think so. I hit my stride.”

“Text me if you have questions, then. I’ll respond when I wake up.”

“Okay.”

Your lips curve into the smallest of smiles. It copies onto Hyunjin’s face incurably quickly.

“I had my doubts about this tutoring thing, you know.”

“Why is that?”

“Well, you told me this class was the closest thing to daily naptime you’d experienced since preschool.”

“It really is.”

“You also told me you would rather slam your tongue in a car door than read more than three sentences in one sitting.”

“I really would.”

“And you once referred to academia as ‘Virgin Village.’”

“Didn’t you come up with that?”

“No, hello? I live in that village.”

He grins. “I know. I just wanted to hear you admit it.”

“Fuck you.”

“Ah, don’t threaten me with a good—”

“What I’m trying to say is that I didn’t think you would take this seriously, but I’m happy to be proven wrong.”

Hyunjin leans back. “Well, turns out I might give a fuck about anthropology after all.”

“Really?”

“No.”

You pretend to punch him through the screen. It’s so cute that he forgets to think before he opens his mouth next.

“But I do give a fuck about you.”

There’s nothing crazy about the statement. You’re friends, sort of. You manage his team. It would be strange if he didn’t. But the seconds that follow are terrible, a silent prophecy of something disastrous, like a cloud of rubble before an avalanche, the standstill during a star’s final breath. And Hyunjin’s heartbeat is hounding against his ears like a performance of traditional taiko.

He says good night in a haste. The call ends. He stares at the wall of his bedroom in a muddled haze for who knows how long.

Then he opens his texts.

Hyunjin: We have team bonding tomorrow btw Hyunjin: Don’t forget Y/N: i forgot. Y/N: pick me up at 6:45? Hyunjin: 🫡

He picks you up at 7:53.

You approach his car with your fists balled and your eyebrows knitted together like a mean old curmudgeon and he’s walking too close to your lawn.

“His fault,” Hyunjin says before you start yelling.

Minho simpers at you through his open window. “Hey, you! So glad you could join us!”

You fix the man with a judgmental glare as you slide into the backseat. “Aren’t you the captain? Why are you this late?”

“Whoa, okay. I would’ve scheduled this for earlier if I knew right now was honesty hour.”

“You did schedule it for earlier,” you say. “You scheduled it for way earlier.”

“Yeah, well, you’re fired.”

“You can’t fire me, Minho.”

“I can too. Tell ‘em, Hwang.”

“I want nothing to do with this.”

When you step through the doors of the arcade, you’re met with a surge of sensory input that you haven’t experienced in years. The air hangs thick with the smells of greasy concessions; everywhere you look are flashing screens and neon signs, stuffed animals and fading posters; clamoring against your ears are the sounds of games being won or lost, of balls being pocketed or launched, and of a horde of fully grown men spectating a match of Dance Dance Revolution so passionately (and loudly) that they’ve scared everyone away from that side of the room. You recognize the current competitors as Changbin and Jeongin.

“I’ll go pay,” Hyunjin says. “How much time do we want?”

“Infinity,” Minho answers. Hyunjin doesn’t move. “Two hours.”

He flashes him a thumbs-up. “And you?”

“I’m okay, I think.”

“No you’re not,” the two men answer in perfect unison.

You glance between them warily. “I don’t mind watching, seriously. I don’t even know how most of these games work—”

“There’s Tetris,” Hyunjin cuts in.

You purchase an hour.

One would imagine the point of the evening is to break the SNU men’s volleyball team, not to bond them. You’ve never seen so many strained blood vessels in your life. Nor have you heard of half the insults they spew at each other as the night goes on. Felix has to pay a fee for lodging an air hockey puck in the side of the MarioKart machine. Changbin loses at skee-ball and has to down an XL slushie like it’s a shot. It’s a scary amount of boyishness expressed in scary ways.

But they’re happy. You’ve picked up on it when they’re on the court, noticed the raw elation they emanate just from playing together. Yet, their closeness has never been more evident to you than tonight. The men are either laughing or making someone else laugh, arms draped over each other at all times, equally happy to celebrate victories as they’re eager to punish losses. It dawns on you at some point that you’re glad to be here with them, grateful to be a part of something so special—especially because there’s Tetris.

“Have you ever considered going pro?” Hyunjin asks over your shoulder.

You waited until most of the team was distracted to slink off to your beloved machine. Hyunjin tagged along, undoubtedly with the intention of making fun of you, only to be rendered speechless by your mastery. He’s been watching in a state of stupor, forearms propped against the back of your chair.

You don’t respond for a while, too focused on a precarious patch to even blink, let alone partake in conversation.

“I already did,” you finally answer.

“Sorry, what? You played professional Tetris?”

“In middle school. Then I got bored and switched to backgammon.” You pause. “Then I got bored again and switched to chess.”

“How do you look like this with these hobbies?”

Your run ends a few minutes later with a somber sound effect. You turn around in your seat with an anguished groan. “I think I’m washed.”

He looks at you like you’ve lost your mind. “You just set a new record by three hundred thousand points.”

“It’s a small pond,” you say, and an idea occurs to you. “Do you wanna try?”

“I get the feeling I don’t have a choice.”

“Then you’re smarter than you look.”

“Well, you look—”

His eyes move between your shoes and your face, and then his voice is an inaudible mutter as he sinks into your seat. You think you hear something along the lines of unfair.

“What was that?”

“Ugly. I said you look ugly.” He cracks his knuckles. “Now let’s break some fuckin' blocks.”

When Hyunjin learns that the pieces can be rotated (so six or seven attempts later), a man walks into the arcade.

He has hair the color of dark chocolate, the face of a fairy prince—and he’s with someone. The two of them appear arm in arm, laughing at something he said. He looks at this person the way astronomers do to the sky.

Something shatters inside you like old porcelain.

Your hands loosen around the back of Hyunjin’s chair. You can’t watch. You can’t think. You can only feel a void of disappointment rip open, stretch over you like an elongating shadow.

“Seung!” That’s Jisung, you think. “You made it!”

“Yo, sorry we’re late.” That’s Seungmin. That is undoubtedly Seungmin. “Dinner took longer than I thought.”

“Min, are you sure I’m allowed to be here?” You don’t know who this voice belongs to and you’re not sure you want to. “I feel like I’m intruding—”

“Hwang,” you say suddenly. “I have to go.”

He turns around, confused. An unattended block falls into a terrible spot on the screen behind him. ”Already?”

“I forgot I had an important call to make.” You turn away, training your eyes on the patterned carpet. “Sorry. I’ll see you around.”

You have touched Hyunjin’s hands many times. He’s asked you to tape his fingers every day since the first; he likes the way you cut off his circulation, says it helps him hit harder. But you never hold his hand so much as you examine it, the act stiff and unfeeling, cordoned within the professional pretense of athletic treatment.

Now, Hyunjin catches your hand like a gardener repotting their favorite flower: delicately, careful of leaving its roots intact and petals untouched, but firmly, securely, so the flower continues to stand tall even when it’s been extracted from the soil, not even a speck of dirt slipping through the cracks between their fingers. That is the image you conjure when he slips his between yours, his metal rings cold where his fingertips are warm.

He says your name. There is a pinch of pain in the word, and you know that he knows.

“Do you want to be alone?”

You have never been asked such a thing—you have never asked to be asked such a thing—but, for some reason, the question brings tears to your eyes.

“Yes, please,” you whisper, and you pull your hand away.

When you stalk past him, you hear Jisung notice you, call out to you, a note of worry in his question. You also count three pairs of eyes on your back: one concerned, the next confused, and the last you are wholly incapable of meeting.

Unknown to you is the fourth pair fixed upon the top of the Tetris machine, where you’ve left your phone.

You emerge into the parking lot. The frigid air stills your mind for a fraction of a second, the last moment of mental quietude you will allow yourself that night.

Hyunjin’s right; the team manager doesn’t have to do much.

Coach Bang allows you to come to whichever practices and games you feel like, during which you might at most lug around a ballbag or fill someone’s waterbottle before holing up somewhere to do your own thing. But you like the people you work for too much to do so little for them, so you attend everything your schedule allows.

Last week, you could be found helping Minho put up the volleyball nets before practice, your laughter echoing throughout the spacious gym as he complained to you about his biochemistry professor’s distinct “cabbage scent.” Or running to grab materials for Changbin as he treated his teammates’ injuries like you were assisting an orthodontist giving someone a root canal. The dinner invitations you extended to Seungmin were always turned down, but his teammates were more than happy to assist you and Hyunjin in your quest to establish the best kimbap joint in the area once and for all. You even had a heart-to-heart with Coach Bang during one of the team’s water breaks, in which you managed to get half a smile out of the guy; Hyunjin was convinced that was his way of asking you to elope. You spent more time in the gymnasium those ten days than you had your entire college career.

Then came the arcade.

Five days have come and gone. You haven’t attended practice since, but you still see Hyunjin every morning at anthropology. The two of you sit in uncharacteristic silence for most of the lectures. You’ve taken the best notes of your life. He doesn’t mention the previous weekend; he doesn’t mention much of anything.

In person, that is.

That Friday afternoon, you’re reading on the terrace of the library when you receive a text. It’s from Hyunjin, a two-minute voice note. You hesitate for a moment, stick a pencil into the gutter of your textbook to save your place, and slip your earbuds in. You listen to it.

Then you listen to it again.

And again as you wrap up your study session and go home. Again as you cook yourself dinner and load the dishwasher. Again as you shrug on a jacket and pocket your keys, setting off on the familiar trek to the gym.

As for what you plan to do there on a Friday night, long after the team has finished practice, you haven’t the slightest clue. You continue to move regardless, fueled by the feeling that there is where you need to be.

Coach Bang is leaving the building just as you’re approaching it. He halts in his footsteps and raises his eyebrows when he notices you. The man has always been difficult to read, but his face is exceptionally opaque now. Maybe it’s the shadowy landscape; more likely it’s the uneasiness that began to mount within you once you noticed the lights in the gym were still on.

“It’s been a while,” he greets.

“Coach,” you return, lowering your head. “I want to apologize for—”

“Save it,” he says, not unkindly. “There’s nothing to apologize for, alright? The team is lucky to have you.”

You manage a grateful smile. “I’ll be back starting next week.”

“I’m glad to hear it.” He starts to walk away, stops himself, and glances into the illuminated building. “I would give him some space, by the way.”

Your uneasiness morphs into anxiety as you watch his broad back retreat into the shadows. You remain outside the gym for a few minutes more, accompanied by the distant melodies of cricket chorales and the muffled squeaking of shoes against laminated hardwood, the harsh sounds of flesh meeting leather.

Briskly, you walk home, rummage around, and return to the gym ten minutes later with your textbook tucked beneath your arm. This time, you unlock and enter the building without a moment of hesitation.

Hyunjin is positioned multiple yards behind the service line, rotating a volleyball in his hands. A high toss, two resounding steps, and a collision like the crack of a whip. The previous ball has barely landed in the furthest corner of the court when he’s picking up the next, retreating to the same spot to do it all again. His tank top is the color of charcoal over his sweaty skin, his hair auburn where it’s plastered to his neck. He’s alone.

You only catch sight of Hyunjin’s face when you descend the stairs. His expression is crystalline, hardened with concentration and fortified by courage, but fragile all at once, rendered delicate by fatigue and fear, spilling from his every seam and splintering off his person like a broken vase. You recognize it as clearly as if you were looking at a picture of yourself from the worst years of your life.

“I was told to give you space,” you call out, and Hyunjin drops the volleyball he’s holding.

His lips fall apart. Nothing comes out of them. The only sounds to follow are your footsteps as you make your way towards the bleachers, a vertical wall of plastic now that they’ve been retracted for the night. You fold your legs into a criss-cross as you take a seat at their base.

“Is this enough space?”

More silence. You gesture to the volleyball nervously.

“Don’t make me go further, please. I’m not ready to die.”

Finally, this earns you a smile. It’s not much, but it loosens the nervous coils in your heart, permits your lungs to contract once more, and it remains on his face as he swipes the ball back into his hands. You open your textbook.

The rest of the night elapses in turning pages and soaring volleyballs. You don’t care for minutes or hours; you give him all the time in the world, as he did you.

The only time you glance at the clock on the wall is around midnight, when Hyunjin hobbles to the middle of the court and collapses. You’re worried at first. Then he rolls onto his back and releases a guttural groan into his hands, and your held breath comes out a laugh. You set down your book and stand up.

There’s a lake of perspiration forming around him. You pay it no mind and flop onto the floor, your eyes instantly narrowing beneath the fluorescent lights.

“How do you see under these things?”

“I don’t,” he returns. “I complained about it to Coach once.”

“And?”

“He made them brighter.” Sounds about right.

Hyunjin spends the next few minutes catching his breath, his chest rising and falling in your peripheral vision. You sift through your mind for phrases of consolation or gestures of support and come up empty. You wish you had Hyunjin’s way with words.

But you think about the way his smile reached his eyes as he thanked you for caring about him, the tenderness with which he caught your hand at the arcade, the I give a fuck about you he blurted before ending the study call. You think about the voice note. It’s not that Hyunjin has a way with words; it’s that he’s brave enough to break the silences that you can’t, like he perceives your anxiety for the aftermath, shouldering the responsibility so you won’t have to.

This cannot be his burden alone.

You inhale. “What’s on your mind?”

Hyunjin doesn’t answer right away. You give up on squinting and close your eyes. The lights are still bright enough to dance around the murky darkness.

“I don’t think I know how to put it into words.”

You nearly laugh; you know how that feels. “Don’t think, just talk. I’m here.”

The same advice you gave yourself seems to work on him as well.

“Do you remember Ishikawa Yuki?”

His role model.

“He’s currently playing for a club team in Italy called Allianz Milano.” He blows out a deep breath. “I’ve been talking to their coach, Roberto Piazza, for the last six months.”

The gears in your head creak in their effort to process the implications of these words. “Holy shit, Hwang.”

“He emailed again, this morning. Said he was coming to the tournament later this month, he’s excited to see me play in person, whatever. And it hit me, finally, that this is all real. Like, this is actually happening to me. I spent all of today freaking out and asked Coach to let me stay back after practice. Usually, it wears out my brain if I tire my body, but it only half-worked today. I couldn’t wrap my head around anything. I still can’t.

“I am who I am because of that man, and now…I have a shot at playing with him. I keep asking myself why I’m not—not happier. I should be bouncing off the fucking walls, no? If I told my past self that this would be happening to him one day, he—he would—”

You open your eyes, confused by the sudden silence.

Hyunjin is sitting up next to you, staring intensely into the bleachers. You first notice the tip of his tongue prodding into his cheek, then his shuddering breath. He lifts a hand to his face, pressing against his eyes.

You stop thinking after that.

You sit up with him. When you settle your fingers around his wrist, he allows you to pull his hand back to his side. But he turns away as if trying to hide from you; he squeezes his eyes shut as if that would obstruct your view of his pain.

You reach to cradle his face, bringing him back to you. The cuff of your sleeves wipe at the saltwater on his cheeks, push the hair off his forehead with gentle sweeps. The two of you are close, close enough that your lips would meet the space between his eyes if you so much as lost your balance. His gaze traverses to your face, but you resolve not to meet it. You know you will traipse into uncharted territory the moment you do.

“Don’t fight it.” You trace over the hill of his cheek. “Healing becomes easier if you let yourself hurt. Trust me, Hyunjin.”

His first name should feel foreign on your tongue, yet you suspect the syllables have accompanied you all your life.

“You don’t have to continue if you can’t.”

“S’okay.” Hyunjin lifts your hand away from his face, presses a kiss to the base of your palm. “I want to.”

You feel yourself stumble ungracefully into the uncharted territory from before; does he do the same?

“I used to play volleyball on this expanse of cracked blacktop, behind my primary school. It was pretty brutal on my feet—I blew through so many different pairs of sneakers my mom almost made me quit.” He smiles at the memory. “But every time I came close to quitting, I’d go home and rewatch the same USA vs. Poland match from the 2008 Summer Olympics I asked my dad to record, and I’d promise myself it would be me on some other kid’s screen someday.

“That kid would tell everyone who’d listen about how cool I am. That I’m a secret superhero. That I’m living proof humans can fly if they really, really try—just like I talked about the volleyball players I grew up watching on my TV.

“The other day, Coach told me that hope would consume me. I thought it was just some senile drivel at the time, but..I think I get what he means now. I would do anything and everything to make that kid proud—even if it meant losing myself.” He lowers his head, auburn strands falling into his eyes. “That’s what’s on my mind.”

Amidst the ensuing pause, a storm approaches. It does not come in the form of rain or snow, sleet or hail, no; it is a gathering of words unsaid and emotions unacknowledged, all emerging from the deepest chambers of your heart in synchrony. The same entities you used to scapegoat for all the times things were awkward between you and Hyunjin when you were the culprit all along. You and your blind cowardice.

The storm tears open the seam of your lips. You do not resist; it’s long overdue.

“Every time Changbin sees you, he turns into a smitten schoolgirl,” you say. “He is physically unable to contain how endearing he finds you. He told me so himself.”

Hyunjin looks at you with widened eyes. You think you can see your own reflection in them, and you are the spitting image of a lighter dropped into gasoline, unstoppable in your vehemence.

“Jeongin comes to you for advice before anyone else,” you continue, “even for things related to school—which I still find hard to believe, I’m not gonna lie. But you have his best interests in mind, and it shows in everything you do for him. Of course your opinion matters more than anything in the world.

“I know you think he can’t stand you, but you are the reason Coach Bang loves this job, why he loves this sport. It’s written all over his face every time he calls you something mean, every time he makes you run another lap, every time he looks at you. You’re like a son to him. Everyone sees it but you.”

“Then there’s me.” You pause to catch your breath. “When I think about what my life used to be, I remember a lot of things. I remember loneliness. Insecurity. I remember my books and my backgammon boards and the way I taught myself to disappear inside them so the world would never find me. I remember avoiding mirrors like a vampire because I didn’t like seeing my own reflection. I remember feeling like I had to put on someone else’s personality every time I left the house because nobody would want to know me for me. All I ever wanted was a place where I could be myself, love myself, without consequence. I have yet to find that place.

“But I found a person. Someone who wouldn’t know time and place if they kicked his dick into his body. Someone who thinks instant ramen is high in nutritional value because it comes with dried vegetables. Someone who sweats the same amount of rain the Sahara Desert receives yearly—your body is not normal, by the way.”

Hyunjin giggles; it is soft and short, a small, tearful huff into the quiet air that makes you feel like you’re flying.

“Don’t get me wrong,” you say. “Your sense of humor sucks and your taste in coffee is so boring and you are the one with no media literacy, not Professor Kim. But I love spending time with you. I love who I am when I’m around you. And none of that has to do with volleyball.”

The next time you blink, you discover that he’s not the only one with tears in his eyes. How long has that been going on?

“There’s so much about you to be proud of, Hyunjin.” You give him a watery smile. “That kid will be spoiled for choice.”

When Hyunjin pulls you into his arms, you fall into each other like going to bed after a long day. Your face burrows into the crook of his neck in your embarrassment; he is laughing and crying at the same time when he mumbles something into your shoulder: “I knew you cared about me.”

You are so happy for the comedic relief you could sob. It helps that you already are.

“How the fuck are you still sweaty?” You choke out, and you think you like his cologne after all.

Six days later, Hyunjin opens the door of his apartment.

A fun-sized flurry of black and white barrages into the hallway outside and almost runs headfirst into the figure waiting there. You fall to your knees like you’ve just been gravely wounded, emitting an ear-piercing wail to match. All it takes is a few good head scratches for Kkami to stop yipping bloody murder and start whining for attention instead.

Upon minute five of watching you and his dog cuddle in the hallway directly outside his home, Hyunjin sighs.

“Can you come inside, please? My RA will think I’m doing some freaky shit again.”

You side-eye him as you walk into his apartment, Kkami perched happily in your arms. “What, exactly, does freaky shit entail?”

He smirks as the door falls shut. “You want me to tell you or show you?”

You turn to Kkami, disgusted. “Your owner’s a bit of a pervert, my dear.”

Kkami licks you on the chin. Hyunjin’s eyes narrow to slits.

“Traitor.”

Naturally, Hyunjin’s parents chose the eve of his final anthropology exam—and the week before the tournament that will determine the trajectory of his career—to ask him to look after Kkami for a few days. He nearly canceled their plane tickets himself, but his impromptu roommate is currently ransacking your face with kisses on his couch, and he thinks your laugh complements his studio better than any decoration.

“Do you want anything to drink?” He calls from the kitchen area.

You meander over, Kkami (still) perched happily in your arms. “What do you have?”

“Alcohol.” He opens his fridge far enough so you can peer over his shoulder. “Americanos.”

He stops speaking.

“Is that all?”

“Yes. Wait—and apple juice.”

“You are about to be a professional athlete.”

“What the Italians don’t know won’t hurt them. You want apple juice, don’t you? I can see it in your eyes.”

“Maybe. Can you open it for me? My hands are full.”

Hyunjin does so with far less reluctance than he feigns. You thank him jubilantly, popping the straw into your mouth.

“Let’s get this over with.”

At 10:32 P.M., all is calm. You are sitting on the floor, your back against the side of his mattress. Hyunjin is where the universe intended: curled up in bed, both him and his laptop lying on their sides. You have studied eight out of ten units in only two and a half hours, and the night is still young. Kkami is but a fluffy, sleepy Oreo by your waist.

At 10:33 P.M., the Oreo begins to retch.

You startle a foot into the air. Hyunjin is out of bed and on his feet in the blink of an eye, the very image of a dog dad on duty. He grabs three different things off the kitchen counter with one hand and scoops up the long-haired chihuahua with the other, and then he’s kicking open the door.

Seungmin appears out of thin air carrying two heaping bags of groceries. Hyunjin nearly knocks him and a month’s worth of fresh produce down four flights of stairs.

“Hyun—Kkami?” Seungmin swivels. “Yo, what the fuck is—”

Hyunjin is already out the door.

A few minutes later, Hyunjin squats off to the side, pouring fresh water into a portable dog bowl. A little ways away, Kkami is throwing up ebulliently; a set of footsteps approaches.

“What is this thing?” Seungmin squats down next to Hyunjin, picking up the piece of patterned fabric lying on the grass.

“Kkami gets sad after throwing up,” he sighs. “His blanket makes him feel better.”

Seungmin watches the chihuahua for a few moments, a soft flinch crimping his features. “He ate too fast again?”

Hyunjin rakes a hand through his hair. “I don’t get it. Nobody’s gonna take his food from him.”

Seungmin laughs. “I didn’t even know he was on campus.”

“I picked him up last night. My parents are traveling for work—they say hi, by the way.”

“I say hi back. I miss your mom’s cooking.”

“Me too,” Hyunjin says, smiling. “She would love to cook for you again—she’s always saying you’re too skinny.”

“She really is.”

A beat passes; it is then that Hyunjin has an epiphany.

Seungmin was the one who put a volleyball in his hands for the first time. Back then, Hyunjin was the lesser troublemaker between the two of them—a concept that neither of them can wrap their heads around to this day. Seungmin suggested they use the clotheslines in Hyunjin’s backyard as a makeshift net, despite Hyunjin’s dissuading; half of Hyunjin’s father’s wardrobe caught on fire, Seungmin had a black eye for a week, and nobody knows what happened to that volleyball. The two of them have been attached at the hip ever since.

It is a crazy thing, having your best friend as a teammate; a singular flick of the wrist or a point of his shoe and Seungmin will know exactly Hyunjin wants the ball down to the net’s fraying fibers; Hyunjin will be exactly where Seungmin needs him down to the flecks of paint on the volleyball court. Hyunjin has always been Seungmin’s hitter—Seungmin, always Hyunjin’s setter. Nothing will ever change between them so long as that remains the case.

At least, that’s what Hyunjin used to think.

Learning that Seungmin was in a relationship was as much a wake-up call for Hyunjin as it was for you. At first, he was just fucking pissed; how could Seungmin be so stupid as to turn down someone like you, especially when Hyunjin had shot his mouth off about his wingman services? More importantly, how long had his best friend of eighteen years been in love, and why was he the last to know?

Only now, as they wait for his nine-year-old chihuahua to finish barfing, does Hyunjin realize that he can’t remember the last time he and Seungmin talked. Not “talked” as in a brief exchange inside the locker room or the lecture hall, about a new approach he wants to try or what Seungmin got on number four or if he wants a ride to practice—“talked” as in talked, about Hyunjin, about Seungmin, about the eighteen years they shared, about all the years yet to come.

Hyunjin sees his setter every day; he stopped looking for his friend a long time ago.

“Yeonwoo, right?”

He senses surprise in Seungmin without having to look at him. But he also senses a smile, a subtle show that Seungmin recognizes what he’s trying to do—and forgives him.

“Yeonwoo,” Seungmin affirms. “We’re in the same songwriting intensive this semester.”

“Also a singer?”

He shakes his head. “Piano player. Performed at the Carnegie Hall in the United States at, like, seven years old. I don’t think I’ve ever met someone so talented.”

“Wow, that’s—hi, old man. You done?”

Kkami walks over with his head hung low and tail between his legs, and Hyunjin hurries to drape the pup in his favorite blanket, pulling the bowl of water in front of him in tandem. Seungmin runs a hand over the top of Kkami’s head as he hydrates.

“You’ve suffered,” he tells him solemnly, and Hyunjin snorts.

“As I was saying—that’s crazy to hear, coming from the most talented person I know. You guys looked so good together.”

“Thanks. It’s weird. I’m happy.”

“You deserve it. You really do, Kim.” They exchange smiles, and Hyunjin gives Seungmin a playful nudge. “When are you introducing us?”

“The arcade wasn’t enough?”

“Don’t insult me.”

“Whenever you want, then.”

“Dinner with my mom, dinner with Yeonwoo,” Hyunjin recounts. “I’m holding you to it.”

“Bet.”

They shake on it. If Hyunjin wasn’t already reassured by Seungmin’s smile, he knows by his clasp around his hand that they’ll be okay.

“What about you?” Seungmin asks. “Are you together yet?”

Hyunjin knew this was coming. “What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean.” Seungmin strings his hands together, letting them dangle in the space between his knees. “Someone you have questions for that you’re too scared to ask. Someone who’s lived in your mind since the day you met. There’s someone like that, isn’t there?”

Hyunjin pokes his tongue into his cheek.

Ever since that night on the gym floor, Hyunjin’s been having these dreams. By the time his alarm goes off in the morning, every detail of the dream has eluded him, leaving behind only a ghost of emotion, akin to the breeze that grazes your face moments after walking past another person.

But then he’ll get out of bed, and walk to that café on the east side of campus, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. There, he’ll order a vanilla latte with extra sweetener, then turn around to see you standing five feet away, holding an Americano and trying not to laugh. And he’ll just know, with everything in him, that you are where his head goes when he’s not keeping watch.

He still addresses you by the pet names you hate. He still finds any excuse to be close to you; he still pesters you like a child with a crush. But now, he calls you his baby like one wishes on a star; his eyes drift to your lips every time you’re within two feet of each other; he makes fun of your likes and dislikes only because he’s happy to know about them at all. Ever since that night on the gym floor.

It’s impossible for nothing and everything to change at once. Two people teetering on the precipice of something cannot withstand a gust of wind so powerful. He’s already hanging off the ledge, losing his grip; where are you?

Next to him, Seungmin lets out a soft laugh. “There is.”

Hyunjin doesn’t know what to say.

“It might’ve been me, at some point,” he hums, returning his hand to scratch the back of Kkami’s ears. “But it has always been you, Hyun.”

Four floors above them and inside Hyunjin’s place, you are pacing between his fridge and his bed, nervously awaiting his and Kkami’s return.

Something catches your eye, wide and flat and hung on the wall by his bathroom door. You approach it curiously, your lips pulling into a fond smile the moment you realize all that’s in front of you.

Many of the photographs are of Hyunjin: him in his preteens, dead asleep in bed while dressed head to toe in volleyball gear, braces visible because his mouth is open; an action shot taken at what must’ve been a U21 match, the South Korean flag stitched into the shoulder of his jersey; him with half a birthday cake in front of him and the rest smeared all over his face. There are headlines, too: Underdog team earns district’s first high school volleyball state title; Hwang Hyunjin proves himself worthy of “ace spiker” label at South Korea V. Croatia U19 match; Coach Bang “Christopher” Chan leads Seoul National University to second consecutive KUL championship. There’s one—Who is Hwang Hyunjin? Meet the twenty-year-old instigant of South Korea’s imminent volleyball revolution—beside which he’s written the singular word “mouthful.” You laugh; you agree.

But pinned to the corkboard is also a photograph of Minho, surrounded by stray cats in the alleyway outside a K-BBQ restaurant; his parents cradling Kkami in an apple costume; his high school volleyball team silhouetted against a pretty sunset. Him and Seungmin as kids, covered in grime and scrapes but beaming nonetheless; him and Seungmin at age nineteen, stadium lights on their backs, unadulterated elation on their faces as they charge towards each other, beaming still. Changbin piggybacking Felix through the hallways of the gym, neither of them wearing a shirt; Jisung offering Coach Bang a beer while the latter looks direly unamused (you make a mental note to ask about that one later); what looks like a Rock Lee cosplayer grimacing in the middle of your anthropology classroom.

You rush forward as if decreed by gravitational force. Not too far away is another picture of you, in which you boast a Miffy headband and a face full of foaming cleanser. Then another, your eyes narrowed like that of a sniper taking aim as you’re playing Tetris; you with so many volleyballs piled into your arms that you can’t see your own face; your cheeks squished by a bandaged hand after you lost a bet about pandas (they can swim); you clutching your stomach on the library floor, brought to hysterical tears by Professor Kim’s email. You, you, you.

You bring your pointer finger to this last image, tracing it over the curve of your own cheek. You see a dimple on your face you didn’t know you had. You realize it only comes out for him.

It has always been him.

The front door opens. A man with telephone poles for legs and a long-haired chihuahua in his arms appears behind it. You sense in him that something has changed since you last saw each other. The two of you lock eyes.

It’s not awkward this time.

Multiple yards behind the service line, Hyunjin is rotating a volleyball in his hands. It feels solid and sentient, an extension of himself held in cotton-clad fingers. He knows how this story will end.

He moves his eyes to his best friend’s back. Four fingers flash back at him twice, signaling a high lob set to the left, the very play they’ve practiced tirelessly for the last five weeks. The breath Hyunjin blows out of his cheeks seems to crystallize in the air, almost solid in all its exhilaration.

He bends low and throws high. His arms drop behind his body like a spread of feathered wings; his feet fall into place below him like a meteor shower, two consecutive strikes against the earth that fissure its mantle. The lights overhead are bright. His palm pulls taut when it slams into leather. He knows how this story will end.

The volleyball tears towards the ground. It trembles as if scared by all that it holds: the guarantee of a flawless denouement, the catalyst of a radiant future. Hyunjin’s heart is beating hard enough to crack his ribs when he lands back on the ground, when the volleyball lands in the furthest corner of the court. He’s not scared at all.

He balls his fingers into fists.

“JUST LIKE LAST YEAR, BACK TO BACK ON AN ACE—”

An arm seizes Hyunjin’s neck; another drags him onto the floor. His head thuds onto the hardwood with a sound he hears over the whole world detonating. His vision fills with the faces of the people he cares for most, some covered in tears and others rivaling the ceiling with their blinding smiles. He can’t feel most of his body; his sweat drips into his mouth. He doesn’t care. He doesn’t care.

“—DEFENDING THEIR TITLE FOR THE THIRD CONSECUTIVE YEAR—”

His eyes find Seungmin’s among the fray. Their hands clap together with such force that Hyunjin cusses at the impact. Seungmin’s gaze burns into his with a ferocity that Hyunjin plans to take to his grave. His setter. His best friend.

He says something inaudible, but Hyunjin reads the words off his lips, and his eyes fill with tears: we win everything.

“—YOUR NATIONAL CHAMPIONS: SEOUL NATIONAL UNIVERSITY!”

Hyunjin’s post-game interview is a lawless affair. He is allowed at most half an answer before a new teammate is barreling over with an animalistic screech or a new friend is screaming congratulations from out of frame.

The reporter is visibly agitated by her final question, unpursing her lips to ask: “Is there anyone you’d like to thank?”

Hyunjin exhales. “You want the short answer or the long—”

Changbin seizes him by the head. Hyunjin bursts into a peal of high-pitched laughter as the libero litters kisses all over his face, nearly crumpling to the floor in his attempt to escape.

“Love you,” he yells before hurrying off.

“Love you too, Bin.”

Hyunjin turns a sheepish smile to the reporter.

“The short answer,” she deadpans.

He starts counting off his fingers. He thanks his family—his first and last teammates, his eternal anchors. His other family, his actual teammates, the best boys he’s ever known. His coach, who will let him call him Chris someday. His best friend and setter, Kim Seungmin, who set a clothesline on fire once and changed his life forever.

In the distance, a figure emerges from the locker rooms. There’s a navy blue SNU banner draped over your shoulders, two overflowing duffel bags in your hands. Jisung and Jeongin run over to take them from you, and the smile you give them is wide and flushed, a remnant of the elation you shared from afar. The three of you start walking out of the gym.

Hyunjin thanks you.

You didn’t ask for the position, he tells the reporter, but some idiot roped you into it, and they’re all so grateful that you decided to stick around. You know the team better than they know themselves—it’s hard to believe you’ve been with them for five weeks instead of five years.

What are you like? What aren’t you like, is the better question. You’re caring, smart, strong; you see so much goodness in the people around you, all while unaware that it is your warmth that brings it out of them. Flowers only bloom in the sun’s doting radius, and so did he.

You have the sort of soul that incurs the scorn of the stars. They are the only ones to deserve you, they'd argue; you’re wasting your potential among humans when you belong to the sky, and they’d be right.

Hyunjin pokes his tongue into his cheek, suddenly annoyed.

“Why the fuck am I still talking to you?”

“Pardon?” The reporter returns, but Hyunjin is already vaulting over the bleachers, making a mad dash for the exit. She gives her cameraman an affronted glare. He shrugs.

He explodes onto the concrete, looking around in a frantic haze. He finds the blue banner heading toward the team bus and flanked by his teammates with ease.

He calls out to you.

You glance backwards. Your smile is purely effulgent, your laugh but a faint sigh against the area’s busy thrum. His heart is pounding against his ribs like a battering ram again, but he’s used to this feeling by now. Jeongin and Jisung make themselves scarce.

You’re beautiful. God, you’re fucking beautiful. That was the first thought to enter his mind when he spilled an iced Americano on your lap all those months ago and you looked at him like he hailed from another planet. And it is the first thought to enter his mind now, when he runs up to you and cradles your face in his hands, his touch infinitely, impossibly gentle, and you look at him like he’s everything that has ever existed, everything that ever will.

Tendrils of your body spray reach him from here, floral and light like a tropical coastline. He could’ve counted your eyelashes—if he didn’t have something far better to do.

“Tell me now if you don’t want me to do this,” he whispers.

A stupid smile crosses the face of the smartest person he knows. “My lips are sealed.”

Hyunjin kisses you. He kisses you until the banner around your shoulders is wrinkled under his touch, until your hands are tangled in his hair and aching his scalp, until the breaths you take are breaths you share, passed between your mouths like a puff of smoke before they’re colliding again.

He kisses you until he’s crying, again, until he’s no longer tasting your lips but your grin, and he kisses you only harder when those scornful stars start to dance before him, for you are his, not theirs, and he’s really won everything, now.

“Hwang, I need you in my office.”

Six months later, Hyunjin sees Coach Bang standing a few yards away with a grim air about him. He stops in his footsteps and glances at his captain, confused.

“I know nothing,” Seungmin says, walking away. “Good luck!”

“Thanks, cap.” Hyunjin swears he’s had this exact exchange before.

Head volleyball coach Christopher Bang’s workspace still reminds Hyunjin of a morgue. But there are two picture frames on his desk now: one of his family in front of the Sydney Opera House, the other of a band of boys clad in navy blue, draped over one another in exhausted bliss. The latter lends the room a much-needed sense of vitality. Too bad it still houses a rusty cyborg.

Hyunjin closes the door and takes a seat. Bang taps a knuckle against the tempered glass of his monitor. “Read.”

From: Nicola Daldello «[email protected]» To: Bang “Christopher” Chan «[email protected]» Subject: Re: Allianz Milano V. Pallavolo Perugia practice game Christopher, Allow me to apologize for my delayed response as I shared your request with Chairman Piazza. It is my great pleasure to inform you that we would love for Mr. Hwang Hyunjin to participate in our practice game versus Pallavolo Perugia. The match is scheduled for Monday, October 7th, 5-7 P.M. CET in the Giurati Sports Centre in Milan. Mr. Hwang will be playing for Allianz Milano as an outside hitter alongside Mr. Matey Kaziyski, Mr. Osniel Mergarejo, and Mr. Ishikawa Yuki. Please let me know of your availability to call regarding Mr. Hwang’s travel logistics. His transportation and lodging costs will be paid for by the club. I’m looking forward to speaking with you and welcoming Mr. Hwang to Italy once and for all. Yours, Nicola Daldello Assistant Coach, Allianz Milano

“I told you, some opportunities just present themselves,” Bang says, turning his monitor back around. “As for next steps, I need a holistic calendar view of your entire month of October, including social ev—Hwang, is that foam coming out of your mo—NOT ON MY CARPET! HWANG!”

In a park about a ten minute walk away, a small crowd of elderly people are scattered across a few stone tables, hunched over the fading chess boards painted into the granite surfaces. Mrs. Choi whisks away Mrs. Baek’s king with a triumphant yelp.

“I knew it, I knew it, I knew it! That opening is unbeatable!” She swivels towards you, shaking a fist threateningly. “You! Get over here. Your reign is over.”

You are sitting cross-legged in the shade of a broad magnolia tree, clearing out your storage. You tried to take a picture of a particularly rotund pigeon to send to Hyunjin earlier and couldn’t even do that. It was then you decided you couldn't live like this anymore.

“As excited as I am to beat you again, Mrs. Choi, I need ten more minutes,” you call back.

She presents you with an unpleasant hand gesture. You turn your attention back to your phone, grinning. Two new notifications sit at the top of your lock screen.

Hyunjin: Omw now. Sorry had to talk to Chris Hyunjin: Same park? Y/N: yes Hyunjin: Who’s our opponent today Y/N: mrs. choi Hyunjin: Not that bitch again Y/N: ?

He’ll be here in eight minutes.

You return to the task at hand. You’ve already cleared out your apps, your documents, and videos; all that’s left is the audio files. You conduct a quick mental review. Surely you’ll live without your downloaded music and accidental voice memos.

Instead of hitting the “delete” button, you extract a pair of tangled earphones from your jacket pocket.

You go back to your texts with Hyunjin, open the shared attachments tab, and scroll for a long time before you find the voice note he sent you seven months ago.

He finds you a sobbing mess.

“Hey, hey, whoa.” He’s on his knees in an instant, gathering your hands into his, a world of concern in the brown of his eyes. Your earbuds fall out and clatter onto the cement below. “Baby, what’s happening? Are you okay?”

“Yes,” you say in a flustered haste. “Yes, I’m okay. I don’t—I don’t really know what’s happening.”

“Did that hag do this to you?” He asks this question so seriously. “I’ll beat up a senior citizen, I don’t give a fuck—”

“No!” You let out an ugly laugh through your tears. “No, no. Leave Mrs. Choi alone.”

“Then what is it? What’s wrong?”

Eventually, your vision clears enough for you to look at the man kneeling in front of you. His roots grow out longer every day, his hair by now nearly equal parts gold and black. A spot of sunlight infiltrates the magnolia leaves and lands on his left eye, turning it the hue of melted bronze.

Your fingers drift to the sides of his beautiful face as you lean in close; he smells like a combination of smoky rose and tropical coastlines.

“I’ll tell you later,” you murmur, pressing a kiss to his hairline.

He is dissatisfied with this, hooking a pointer finger beneath your chin, guiding your face back to his. He laves the saltwater from your lips, your tongue, and then you’re smiling again, barely able to remember why you cried in the first place.

You rest your foreheads together. “Have I told you that you look like a bumblebee these days?”

He smiles. “Does that make you my flower, then?”

“Because you’re irresistably drawn to me?”

“No, because I wanna put my pollen in—”

You shove him away. “You are grotesque.”

He returns in a flash. “You love me.”

You kiss him again. And again. And one more time for good measure, during which you mumble I do against his lips, and then you remember something.

“Why did Coach hold you back, by the way?” You pull away, tuck a strand of hair behind his ear. “Are you in trouble again?”

“No, no. The opposite, actually.”

Your brow furrows. “The opposite? What—”

“In this lifetime, please,” Mrs. Choi hollers from the chess tables. You roll your eyes. Hyunjin smiles helplessly.

“Duty calls, my love.”

“Tell me your thing later too?”

“Of course.”

You dust yourself off and stand up, making your way to the battleground. But not before you whisper to Hyunjin, “now watch me beat up a senior citizen.”

He laughs with his whole body, his eyes the shape of crescent moons, his mouth a little rectangle.

“Hypocrite.”

Hyunjin: [1 Audio Message]

This is my seventh take and I’m not recording an eighth. What you get is what you get. I don’t care anymore.

I understand if you don’t wanna talk about what happened at the arcade. I wouldn’t, either. I just wanted to say that you don’t have to do this tutoring thing anymore. I won’t be able to fulfill my end of our deal, so…yeah, it wouldn’t be fair to you. You’ve already done so much for us. For me.

As for team manager, you’ll have to talk to Minho and Coach Bang if you wanna quit. Doesn’t sound like a fun conversation, I know—but if that’s what you decide, I’ll have your back. They don’t scare me. Well, they do. Sometimes.

You’ve been…distant, this week. I’ve known peace and quiet for the first time since we met, and I fucking hate it. I realized I couldn’t care less if you’re my tutor or my team manager or whatever—I just don’t want you to be a stranger. Maybe that’s selfish of me to say, but I’m tired of pretending the idea of losing you doesn’t terrify me. It does. It truly fucking does.

I’m gonna end this here, because I almost just stopped recording on accident and I would’ve committed first degree murder if I had to do this all over again. Sorry that this got so long, and…I’m sorry about everything. You deserve better.

Come back to me whenever you’re ready, okay? I’ll be waiting.

🔖 (send an ask to be added)・@astraystayyh・@like-a-diamondinthesky・@fire-08・@starsandrqindrops・@txtxlz・@laylasbunbunny・@strayghibli・@nuronhe・@seungminsapuppy・@vivisoni・@moon0fthenight・@sweetpickledjins・@svintsandghosts・@nhyunn ・@ur-boyfiend・@liknws・@hotgorloikawa・@randomwimp・@automaticpersonabatpaper・@aceofvernons・@linos-kitten・@newhope8・@weedforthoughtz・@hyunverse

2K notes · View notes

lyneira · 1 year

Text

♡ reuniting with him ♡

-> how would the blue lock guys greet you after being away from each other for a long time?

Simply hugs you

ISAGI, Chigiri, Reo, Yukimiya, Tokimitsu, Ness

They moment they see you, they're pulling you into their embrace. However, don't underestimate the force and resolve that was put behind it.

Through the way they'd hug you, it said a lot. The way he held you so close and so tightly that you could feel his heart beating out of his chest said, "I'm not letting you go again". And indeed, he wouldn't be letting you out of his embrace anytime soon.

Kisses your lips immediately

Sae, Kunigami, Aiku, Kaiser, Raichi, Karasu

They wouldn't care who was looking, he was going to give you the deepest kiss you've ever had when you two reunite. An uncharacteristically desperate kiss from him, one that claimed you his, and reclaimed you, over and over again. Lord, he missed your taste so much. He missed you so much.

Picks you up and spins you around

BACHIRA, Shidou, Hiori, Nanase, Aryu

He'd be too overwhelmed with excitement to stay still. If you don't come running up to him, he'll be the one running up to you. He'll swoop you into his arms and spin you around, and the long-awaited laugh he had yearned to hear for so long would bless his ears at last.

He'd want this moment to last forever if only it didn't make either of you so dizzy, hehe

Leans their forehead against yours and gazes deeply into your eyes

Nagi, Barou, RIN, Noa, Niko, Eita, Gagamaru

These would be the type of people who wouldn't express much affection, especially in public. Their affection is rather quiet, more subtle, and intimate, meant to be shown only to you.

And when you're finally right there in front of him, he's finding himself cupping the sides of your face and leaning his forehead against yours, so close that your noses were barely touching.

"...I've missed you", he'd whisper, and if that wasn't evident from the intensity of his tone, then it was evident in his eyes, full of longing and adoration.

He'll leave a kiss on your forehead if he's quick enough ♡

a/n: imma be honest, I still haven't gotten so far in the manga, so I actually don't know much about characters like Kaiser, Ness, and Oliver. Though, based on the previews I've been seeing of them on my dash, I feel like this would suit them? but again, they might be ooc, idk 🥲 Maybe I'll update this post once I've read and gotten to know more about em 😭

5K notes · View notes

asimpforyagami · 7 days

Text

🇸 🇵 🇦 🇳 🇰 !

BSD MEN REACTING TO YOU SPANKING THEM.

↷ A/N ─ as usual please leave likes and reblogs to show support :D i love spoiling you guys !! now please tell me to go study i need some motivation :(

★ FT. ─ dazai , chuuya , ranpo , akutagawa , fyodor

!! TAGS ─ spanking, mentions of smut

MATURE THEMES, 16+, MENTIONS OF AND IMPLIED SMUT

*spanks*

ᴅᴀᴢᴀɪ.

momentarily surprised but quickly recovers

smiles and turns to you

it's like you just gave him a treat :D you can almost see his tail wagging as if he's a dog (he hates dogs btw grrr)

he believes that you spanking his ass gives HIM permission to do the same to YOU :( how mean of him

so he catches you off guard by spanking your ass

and you two end up chasing each other down to take turns spanking each other. whoever loses does the dishes tonight

"You've been very good today; you even completed your punishment for provoking me," he says, engulfing you in a cuddle after you returned from doing the dishes.

ᴄʜᴜᴜʏᴀ.

chokes on air this time (yes chuuya chokes in every single scenario of mine but he's the one choking you at night so its ok !! :D)

he's surprised because wtf?? he's the one supposed to be doing that conventionally????

defo spanks you back but tries to be as soft as possible because he's a gentleman

i think this is already an hc but he's an ass guy so once you've spanked him don't think he's gonna leave u at all

i did say his spanks are gonna be as soft as he can make them be but i never said how many 🤪😇

"Count," he hisses. It's midnight, and you're at his mercy. After his long and hard day at work, he needs something to relieve his stress.

ʀᴀɴᴘᴏ.

stops your hand mid-air because duh he already knew about what you were gonna do

twists and turns and ends up holding your ass and squeezing it

all the while you're like wtf is wrong with you

his eyes make it look like he's enjoying it sm :( such a kitty cat

im still mad they didn't give us a whole separate scene for his ass :< anyone who's read the manga, any pics you wanna share? 👁

"You need to buy me extra candy for putting up with your stupidity," he rolls his eyes, pinching your cheek.

ᴀᴋᴜᴛᴀɢᴀᴡᴀ.

his reflexes immediately act and you see rashomon from the back of his coat

but then he realizes its you...

and he FLUSHES. YOU'VE NEVER SEEN THIS MAN BLUSH

well now you have :D his poor virgin ass

not a virgin anymore once he started dating you u horny ass mf /lh

he has literally no idea how to reply to that

he just shrugs cluelessly

"I guess I should return the favour?" he tries to sound confident but ends up delivering the lightest, most gentle spank. He doesn't want to hurt you. He loves you.

ꜰʏᴏᴅᴏʀ.

DISGUSTED™

one, because he's another virgin (virgin slander less gaurr 💪🏻 even tho im one myself; its the self burn guys !!)

and two, for the last time STOP. MESSING. WITH. HIS. RELIGIOUS. SELF.

you're SATAN in his eyes, trying to distract him and make him sin (as if he isn't a murderer and a terrorist cough cough)

if we're being delusional enough he'll leave the room with a faint pink on his cheeks 🤡

definitely returns the favour at night 🤭🤭 (only if you're married tho!!)

"My sole undivided attention is all yours now," he hits your ass again. "Anything to say? Hm? Why not? You were all for giggling at my face today. What's wrong now?"

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

404 notes · View notes

millenialfanfictionaddiction · 3 months

Text

Being Team Japan’s Manager:

The Team Crushes on Their Manager

Team Japan x GN! reader

Warnings: fluff, swearing

AN: this was due approx. 570 of you ago but nevertheless, here we go 🎉

Where do I even start?

Probably from the beginning because that’s when it ALL started

It was your first day as Team Japan’s new manager

No other job prospects huh Yn?

You were filled with hope and a renewed sense of purpose 🤩

You’d always loved Volleyball whether you played it, watched it or read a very specific manga surrounding it 👀

It was safe to say you were a fan!

The job seemed relatively straightforward

You’d come to work, take care of a bunch of world class athletes, clock out and repeat

Easy right?

Sure….

You walked into the building on your first day and it started almost immediately

There is no easing into this job YN 😌

“Well hello there gorgeous,” a very untoned blonde who seriously needed his roots retouched whistled

“Umm hi! I was wondering if you could-” you started to say before being unfortunately interrupted 🙄

“You want my autograph don’t ya sweetheart?” The blonde smirked, conveniently pulling out a sharpie that seemed to manifest from thin air

“Oh no, I’m looking for-” you try to say again before again being interrupted

“ATSUMU!” A voice shouted as you saw a rather angry looking man with black spiky hair marching up to you and the blonde, “what did I tell you about harassing guests?”

“I wasn’t harassing ‘em!” The blonde, known as Atsumu shouted back

Meanwhile you are just standing there like 🧍

“If you weren’t harassing them, then why do they look like they wanna run for their lives?” Another tall man with curly black hair replied, approaching from behind you

“SHUT YER TRAP SAKUSA!” Atsumu yelled again as the spiky haired man spoke

“If you both don’t get your asses back into that gym right now!”

Atsumu rolled his eyes before responding, “yes Iwaizumi” and turning to leave

But not before shooting a very unsolicited wink in your direction 🙄

“Stop making people feel so uncomfortable,” Sakusa berated as he and Atsumu argued back to the gym

“I’m so sorry about that. You must be Yn?” Iwaizumi asked turning to you as you smiled back widely

“That’s me!” You giggled as Iwaizumi’s eyes widened and his face turned pink at your sheer adorableness

Iwaizumi is just happy that you seem excited

He’s tired Yn, help him please

Iwaizumi begins showing you around the gym while various, rather large men walk past you

You excitedly ask questions, smiling and laughing

The guys are all like 👀👀👀👀👀

They’d heard about a new prospective manager starting but dang, you were way cuter than they imagined

After the tour you made your way to the gym with Iwaizumi to finally meet the team

As you stood there, adorable and bubbly, they all just stared at you like a bunch of creeps 😅

You remember in Season 2 when Yachi joined Karasuno and Suga had to tell Noya and Tanaka to stop staring…

Yeah that’s exactly what’s happening right now 😂

Iwaizumi is giving everyone his death glare because there is absolutely no way he’s letting anyone ruin this for him!

Iwa rn 👉🏻 🔥 👄🔥

Of course you notice them all looking at you but you simply think it’s because you are new

Delusion is always the solution Yn

“And finally, this is Yn, our new manager. I expect nothing but respect and kindness from you guys!” Coach yells as you smile and wave a greeting

“I’m so excited to work with you all!” You say, smiling bright as your eyes sparkle with excitement

This was the first of many incidents that sealed your fate

Now some of the team members fell hard for you immediately

*cough* ATSUMU, BOKUTO, HINATA *cough*

While others took a while to warm up to you

They all thought you were cute and sweet sure but it was your actions that spoke the loudest

For example…

“Hey Sakusa, I heard you are particular about laundry and hygiene, if you could please tell me the products you prefer so I can accommodate you? Oh and I’d you’d like, I can wear a mask around you to make you more comfortable!” You excitedly spoke, standing 6 feet apart from Sakusa so as to not be right in his space

Sakusa rn 👉🏻👁️👄👁️

“Umm sure I can text you a list and you don’t have to wear a mask if you aren’t comfortable,” he responds, honestly shocked because who are you

You wave your hands and smile, “oh no it’s really ok! I’m very accommodating!”

It was safe to say you’d captured our precious Sakusa’s attention

But it doesn’t stop there

“Hey Suna, I noticed you left your arm guards in on the bench yesterday! I washed them for you last night oh and I recorded a video of Atsumu flubbing a serve and accidently hitting Kageyama. I can send it to you if you’d like?” You laughed as Suna just stared in awe

Who the heck were you and why were you so amazing!

Not only that but you provided help to Aran and Ushijima when it came to taking diligent notes about the teams progress

Made sure Kageyama had plenty to eat and got enough sleep

You measured down to the very millimeter for jump heights, making sure Hoshiumi knew exactly where he stood against the other players

You stayed late to help Komori and Yaku with their receiving practice

You came early to unlock the gym for Atsumu, Bokuto and Hinata because lord knows they can’t be out of the gym for more than 8 hours 🙄

You even made sure the guys all followed Iwaizumi’s strict training regime to ensure they all stayed healthy and in the best shape!

It was easy to see why they all had fallen for you!

Competent, pretty, kind, amazing and funny? A perfect combination!

It had been about 6 months and you’d more than proven your worth as a manager

You’d even spent time outside of practice with all of them both individually as well as in groups

Surprisingly they’d all managed to keep their little crushes on you to a minimum

They respected you and didn’t want to mess up anything

When I say “they” I actually mean “most of them”…

Because, ya know, some people just can’t stop themselves 👀

It was safe to say they all knew each other had a crush on their precious manager

But for the sake of teamwork, most of them kept it to themselves

However, there is some people who can only hold it in so long

“I’m thinking about asking YN out this weekend,” Atsumu boldly and nonchalantly says

And just like that, the entire locker room halts

“Excuse me?” Yaku says, staring at Atsumu like he’s about to commit a felony

“What? YN is such a cutie and so awesome! Is it really a surprise that I’d ask them out?” Atsumu replies

All eyes narrow on the setter as he looks back confused

“And what makes you think YN even likes you?” Suna jokes as the rest of the team nods

“Awe come on! It’s pretty safe to say Yn has a crush on me, look at all the stuff they do for me,” Atsumu continues

“So? YN does that for all of us. Plus, maybe another one of us wants to ask them out?” Sakusa adds as Atsumu narrows his eyes

“Ok then, who wants to ask YN out?”

Literally all hands shoot up as the guys look around at each other, eyes wide as the realization sinks in

Soon the shock wears off and they narrow their eyes at each other like a duel in the Ok corral is about to go down 😑

“Well there’s no way all of us asking out YN would be a good idea. We’d probably scare them away!” Komori mentioned

“Nah, if Atsumu hasn’t scared them yet, pretty sure we’re safe,” Aran remarked as Atsumu looked at his friend, offended by his remarks

“What if we draw lots?” Hyakuzawa questioned

“That’s not really far to YN tho, what if they have a particular interest in a member?” Yaku answered

“First one to ask Yn out then?” Hakuba remarked

“Oh yeah, just a bunch of grown ass men running up to YN screaming ‘YN GO OUT WITH ME!’ That sounds like nightmare fuel!” Hoshiumi replied

“Ok so then we let Yn decide,” Iwa added, coming through the doors having just listened to the conversation, “we do our best to win YN’s affections and we let them decide.”

The team all nodded in agreement, ready for the challenge of winning their precious YN’s heart

The next morning, the gym felt different

You could tell immediately the moment you stepped in

“Good morning YN, I bought you coffee!” Iwaizumi smiled, handing you a cup of your favorite pick me up

“Thanks Hajime! I really needed this!”

“Hey Yn, I thought maybe you’d wanna have lunch with me today? My treat,” Yaku interrupted

“That would be awesome Mori!”

“Here Yn, I know how much you love these flowers so I got up early to go to the market to get some,” Sakusa flushed, pushing the flowers in your direction

“Wow thanks Kiyoomi! They are beautiful!”

Were these boys being weird? Sure

Were you gonna fight it? Absolutely not

Now these shenanigans continued for a few weeks and at first they were innocent

But then bringing you coffee, flowers or the occasional chocolate morphed into full blown outings

“Hey YN, I’m going to the art museum this weekend? You wanna come?” Komori asked as your eyes lit up

You loved art!!

“Hey YN, I’m gonna grab sushi tonight after practice, you wanna come?” Gao would ask as your mouth salivated

You loved sushi!

“Hey YN, I’m planning on going to the dog park with Hirugami tonight, you wanna come?” Hoshiumi would ask

Dogs? Say less!

“Hey YN, there’s a new cat cafe that just opened up, you wanna go with me?” Suna would declare

Cats? ABSOLUTELY

It took you a while to catch on that there was something strange going on with these guys

While the putting seemed innocent, their motives definitely were not

After a while, you’d finally gotten sick of it all and just asked

It was after practice, the gym was quiet

And there you were

“What is up with you guys taking me on all these dates for?”

… there to ruin it

Their amount of wide-eyed staring and red faces gave them away quicker than a smoking volcano

You sighed, knowing you had to tell them the truth

“Listen guys, I like you all but only as friends and coworkers ok?”

They all collectively sighed, having all been rejected at the same time

You felt bad but at the same time, they needed to know your feelings for them were platonic

“Hey we can still go out and have fun but it’ll only be as friends ok? Plus I have a boyfriend already.”

Their eyes all shot up at you, wondering who exactly it would be

“Wait you had a boyfriend this whole time?” Atsumu questioned

Yep :D

“Like before you even started working with us?” Yaku asked

Yep : D

“Ok then how come we’ve never met him before?” Sakusa demanded as you smiled

“Oh you have, he talks about you guys all the time!” You respond as everyone but Iwaizumi looks confused

“YN you’re not dating him, please YN anyone but him!” Iwa shouts, running up to you and shaking you as your grin devilishly

It seems to finally hit the others as their eyes go from shocked to horrified in a matter of seconds.

Before they can even process his name, they hear a “yoohoo Yn-Chan” radiate throughout the gym

Surprise an Oikawa ending 😅 if you didn’t see it coming, do you even know who I am? I will always work that man into everything possible!

633 notes · View notes

atinysunbaby · 3 months

Text

Request from : @ateezluvv

⌛Ateez Maknae line having a crush on you⌛

Hyung line

🖤Choi San🖤

You have been working at KQ for a few months now, as a songwriter and you were assigned a personal space with a desk, computer and everything needed for the process of your job. During the first few weeks, the manager wanted to test your capacities and see how well you work in a group project. He sent you through days of endless work and you managed all the pressure quite well.

Your coworkers helped in making your integration easier by being nice and friendly and you adapted better than you would've expected, and the atmosphere in the workplace is always pleasant. Up till now you've participated in the writing of a few songs and small projects for both ateez and xikers, meeting ateez only briefly during a meeting.

You're first impression is that they are polite and hardworking boys and although you were aware of their beauty, you weren't ready to be hit by such powerful visuals.

Later, you were told about a project coming up and you were proposed to work with San on his solo. You meet for the first time in your studio, San's dimple popping out and greeting you early in the morning and it instantly warms your insides.

"Good morning~ I brought you a coffee, I don't know if that's alright?" He asks, sleep lingering in his voice, you can tell by the deep and raspy tone that makes goosebumps rise on your skin the moment it hits your eardrums. "Oh yes that's perfect! Thank you, really."

Your answer seems to please him, as his teeth make an appearance and his eyes almost close from the strain. He sits next to you on the extra chair you bought a few days beforehand, preparing for this day and maybe future tasks. "Let's begin!"

Now over two weeks working together with San and you can't help but feel a bit sad that the song is almost ready, having spent a lot of alone time with him made you grow attached to the kind hearted and endlessly charming man. "I think we might be done."

Those words hit you harder than you thought, it feels like a train ran you over. You don't like the way your heart aches, but it is what it is. "I enjoyed working with you San, thank you."

He smiles for the nth time, but something's different about this one, it doesn't reach ihs eyes and the dimples aren't as defined. "Yeah, uhm.. me too! I hope we can do this again in the future."

The next few minutes are filled with a tense atmosphere, the only sound heard being the shuffling around as you both clean up and gather your things. "Actually."

You almost jump at the unpredicted sound of his voice, turning your full attention to him and it shocks you to find him fumbling with his lyrics sheets, ears and cheeks red, lips pressing together making his cute dimple face unresistible. "I was wondering if you'd be interested t-to go on a date with.. me?"

You freeze for a second, being surprised and absolutely pleased from the unexpected request. "I'd be happy to, of course San."

💚Song Mingi💚

The boys decided to go out tonight and blow off some steam, drinking and dancing through the night. Mingi wasn't really up for it at first, his perfect night would have consisted of reading mangas or watching animes while eating some snacks before going to bed early, but the others convinced him and he ended up not regretting listening to them.

He's been watching you for a while now, having caught his eye almost immediately after he sat down in one of the booths, telling the others he would start the night by staying back for a bit. Now he has the perfect excuse to analyse every single details about you and he finds you absolutely stunning, you might just be the most beautiful girl he's ever seen.

He notices your smile first, so bright and full of grace, it makes his heart flutter uncontrollably and he loves it. Then his gaze trails over all of your features, your lightly made-up eyes sparkling under the dimmed lights and the way they hold so many emotions at the same time, your adorable button nose that moves whenever you talk and your lips, round and plumpy with a coat of rosy gloss for an even more seducing appearance.

He swears your hair probably smells like heaven and he wants to run his fingers through it, massaging your scalp to feel you relax under is touch. "Yo Mingi! Min- Guys we lost him, poor dude."

Your black lacy bustier, revealing just the right amount of skin to leave more to the imagination, your cropped blazer hugging your frame perfectly, the short leather skirt with a small slit on the left side, tight around your juicy thighs making him lose his mind and cute little boots to contradict the rest of your sexy look.

"What the hell dude, what even is this?" Wooyoung shrieks in disgust, elbowing San in the ribs while watching one of his best friend drooling over some bartender he's never met before. "I don't know, might wanna wake him out of his fantasies though."

"Yeah, that shit's on another level of creepiness." Yeosang states while bitting his nails in concern, his eyebrows scrunched and a judgy stare directed at Mingi. "You troublemakers leave Mingi alone, it looks like he just fell in love."

"Seonghwa. If Mingi wasn't handsome, everybody would find it creepy and don't try to deny it." Seonghwa looks at Yeosang, defeated. "Yeah, maybe you're right."

"Ok enough of this." Yunho grabs his friend by the shoulders and briskly shakes him out of his daze. Said boy looks puzzled for a minute, no clue as to why he's being disturbed. "What?"

"Are you serious? You have no idea why I had to intervene from whatever delusion was going on inside your head, like you haven't been checking that girl out for the last hour?" Mingi instantly flushes red, his thoughts having cut out most of his rationality and he had no idea it had been that long. "Just go talk to her."

"No. I can't." Mingi refuses without a second thought, feeling anxiety creep up inside of him and being powerless against it, his limbs paralyzed with fear. There's nothing he wants more than to run over to you and strike a conversation to hear your most likely angelic voice and be blessed by your beauty up close, but unfortunately for him, his body had another plan. "Hello there~ Did you guys need anything?"

"Oh yes! I think my friend here had something he wanted to ask you?" Said friend being Mingi, is ogling you and seems to have lost all of his brain cells. You're even more perfect than he imagined, your features are enhanced and the aura that surrounds you is enough to enlight his senses. The distance between you both is so short that he can smell your sweet, fruity perfume and it calms his nerves a little bit. "Umm yeah. Hi I'm Mingi."

"Y/N~" You say with a smile, waiting for him to continue with intrigue. With a sudden boost of confidence, Mingi speaks up in hopes to be rewarded for his effort. "You're absolutely gorgeous and seem nice so I'd like to take you out on a date sometime- if you want to of course! Would you mind if I gave you my number?"

❤️Jung Wooyoung❤️

"I don't mean to tell you how to do your job, but I think this step is wrong." Wooyoung speaks up with uncertainty in his voice, it looks like he doesn't want to offend you, which is not the case. You've been teaching him a choreography for a new dance cover and have been at it all day, somehow you're tiredness must have taken control over your body, because you're usually fully focused. "Yeah you're right sorry."

"No that's ok, don't worry about it. Hey do you need a break- or we can stop for the day?" He's genuinely so sweet, you're supposed to be the one taking care of him, but he's taken that part very seriously. Making sure you stay hydrated every once in a while, getting you some snacks in order for you to have enough energy, checking the time to make sure you take breaks over the span of a few hours and whenever there's a slightly sudden movement in the routine, he checks up on you through the mirror, making sure you didn't hurt yourself. "No need, all good- Well, do you want us to stop though?"

You turn around, facing away from your reflexion to look at the boy, only to find his concerned stare already on you, searching for any sign of discomfort through your features. "We can keep going for a bit, but let's finish up soon."

"Alright then, let's start from here." You press play on your phone, the music coming through the speakers and you immediately get to dancing, Wooyoung following suit.

He did notice how exhausted you look and it doesn't help that he 'accidentally' heard the conversation you had with your best friend over the phone while on your lunch pause. You were whispering, but he couldn't help being nosy as usual and found out that you've had a bad recent break up, barely sleeping and eating, your nerves hard to control at times.

For the rest of the day, he felt a foreign sentiment in the pit of his stomach, there's also a familiar anger. One thing he's sure of, it's that he wants to pay a visit to the person who hurt you this badly and do much worse to them. "Wooyoung? Hey, are you ok?"

You wave your hand in front of his face, heart beating rapidly because of fear and worry, he's been standing still for over a minute, eyes fixed on the floor and filled with an emotion you can't quite make out. "Wooyoung!"

You try to step back, as he suddenly grabs your wrist. You seen to have woken him up, out of his weird trance, but you end up almost bringing the both of you on the hard ground as a result. "Shit! Are you alright?"

You can't focus on any word he's saying, the muscular arm that's wrapped around your waist and the feeling of his strong fingers squeezing your hip making you feel a bit dizzy. "Y/N?"

You look up at the soft call of your name, liking the way it came out of his mouth. For the following moment, you just look into each other's eyes, no words needing to be said, until Wooyoung breaks the silence. "Can I kiss you?"

🧡Choi Jongho🧡

"Cut! Jongho you need to look into her eyes, got it?" Jongho nods his head in agreement, saying a soft 'understood' to further show his understanding, but from next to him you can easily make out the faint blush spreading from the tip of his nose, all the way to his ears and the side of his neck.

For this scene, his character has to gaze into your eyes while confessing and keep a confident front, but Jongho keeps failing, not being able to keep eye contact with you for more than a few seconds. "Don't be nervous, just look at me and you'll be fine."

You try reassuring him, ignorant to the fact that you just made him even more of a nervous wreck and no matter how much he wants to be able to calm down from the sound of your voice, he can't. The truth is that he's started to develop the biggest crush on you and it's the first time he can't hide his feelings.

Everybody knows how good of an actor Jongho is, ense the reason why the staff and even you, are pretty surprise at his lack of self-control. "Why don't you guys take a ten minutes break? Maybe, go over a few lines together."

"Thank you!" You bow to the director and grab your co-actor's hand, unconsciously interlacing your fingers and the boy follows without fussing. With no doubts, he cherishes the moment, especially as you're the one who initiated the skin contact. Although he knows there isn't any another motive behind it, other than bringing him with you to a specific destination.

You find a quiet and slightly closed space, in hopes to make him feel more comfortable, but he actually appears to have the opposite reaction. Having for mission to keep a big distance between you two, Jongho almost rams into the wall behind him when you step forward to start a conversation.

His heart aches the moment he has a glimpse of the hurt expression on your face, you're quick to mask it, but it's already too late. You glance at him through your lashes when you hear a deep sigh coming out of him, followed by a nervous laugh with a hint of pain in it.

You watch curiously as he runs his hands over his face and he straight up looks at you without flinching away this time. "I like you. I did for a while now, but it's too much for me to keep hiding my feeling anymore."

"Wow you did it! I knew you could, but you know that's not exactly your line right? You're supposed-" He gasps like a fish out of water, trying to comprehend the situation. Only to painfully realise that you thought this was him acting and he suddenly feels like throwing himself off a building. "N- No wait that's not- I wasn't practicing.."

"Oh.." You immediately shut your rambling mouth, confused more than anything, but eventually, grasping the seriousness in his demeanor and hoping to make the poor guy's life a little easier, you speak up. And he's almost on the verge of imploding at the time your voice rings in his awaiting ears. "Well then, you probably wouldn't mind practicing the kiss scene?"

625 notes · View notes

slutforitoshi · 11 months

Text

mikage reo - star student *:･ﾟ✧

ft. reo x f!reader, 18+ minors dni

cw: CORRUPTION KINK, virgin!mc, praise, oral m!receiving and f!receiving, fingering

synopsis: your dear upperclassman teaches you a few new tricks

wc: 1.85k

A/N: confession i was a reo anti until i read the manga LOL

mikage reo is the poster boy for model upperclassman. smart, athletic, and breathtakingly handsome. unlike other seniors he didn’t seem to view the younger years with distaste. after all, he was one of them just a few semesters ago. his generosity knew no bounds, from comped meals to private tutoring lessons. and you happened to be one of those pupils; a sprout eager to learn from the best.

initially you sought out reo’s help since you happened to hear that he was the first in your school’s history to ace all the physics exams, a subject you were dreadful at. you expected the relationship to be cordial, professional even, but reo’s welcoming disposition made it hard to stay away.

before you knew it he was assisting you with much more than physics, guiding you even in your personal life. that’s why it didn’t even occur to you as strange to blurt out, “i think i’m finally going to lose my virginity this weekend”

reo’s pencil that was currently scribbling away at his planner grinds to a halt, leaving only the slight hum of your ceiling fan to break the silence.

shit. you’ve made things awkward.

“oh my god i’m so sorry i don’t know why i said that,” you apologize immediately, realizing the vulgarity of your words. reo was your senior, and while he has helped you with relationship problems before, you should’ve known this was a leap further than that.

reo turns to you with a light smile though, relieving the regret you felt in your stomach.

“what’s there to be sorry about? i’m glad you trust me to talk about it” he reassures you, in classic reo fashion.

“are you sure? i don’t want to make you uncomfortable…” your voice trails off, but reo’s eyes don’t waver. his dear underclassman has a concern, and who else but him to help?

“well…ok. i’ve just been feeling left behind recently in that whole category. all my friends keep talking about their recent hookups, and it’s lame that i haven’t done anything past kissing”

reo’s eyebrows furrow in concern, “don’t tell me you want to have sex because of peer pressure.”

“no no it’s nothing like that” you quickly shut down his unease, “i just feel like i’m ready for it. i want to join my friends.”

he slowly nods his head, taking in your true thoughts.

“so how are you gonna do it? are you seeing anyone?”

“nah i was just gonna go to a party and find some semi-cute guy” you shrugged, and it’s clear by his expression that this was the worst idea he’s ever heard.

“you’re gonna settle for some random guy at a party, who will probably be mediocre at best in bed?” he spat, eyes narrowing at the prospect.

you’ve never seen reo like this, almost bitter at your proposed idea.

“i don’t see any other good options” you murmured. there probably were, but those other options included waiting, and you’ve had enough of that.

reo presses his fingertips to his temples, closing his eyes for a moment.

“you think physics is the only thing i can help you with?”

he opens his eyes, turning towards you with such a piercing stare that it sends shivers down your spine.

“n-no, of course not. you’ve helped me with loads of things before like math, biology-” you ramble, trying to ignore the quickening pace of your heartbeat. sure you were a virgin, but you weren’t naive.

“i won’t force you. i’m just expanding your options” his eyes don’t leave you, and as much as you want to hide from his directness, you can’t seem to look away. as much as you wanted to run away, to say no, the growing heat in your abdomen has already made the decision for you.

“p-please reo, i’m all yours”

“that’s my good girl.”

he places his right hand at the nape of your neck, then pulling you into his lips. gentle, you noted. his kisses showed no sign of aggression or neediness like you’ve experienced from the select few boys you’ve made out with before, but that’s not to say it wasn’t passionate.

you break the kiss first, leaving your chair to kneel down before his.

“can i?” you ask, looking intently at the bulge peaking through reo’s pants.

“eager aren’t we” he smirks, pulling down his waistband to reveal your first cock. and it’s impressive. your eyes widen at the length before you, mouth watering. you look up eagerly, lunging forward to envelop the head around your lips as reo gives an encouraging nod.

“f-fuckk” he gasps, taking in the warmth of your mouth. it’s heavenly.

you push your limits, inch by inch, until you feel him hit the back of your throat, and the sensation launches you off suddenly.

“you alright?” reo sits forward, caressing your back as you cough through the result of your eagerness. you nod though, pushing him back into the chair.

“wanna try again” you murmur, eyes fixated on your conquest. you wrap your lips around him again, taking note of the ache the girth inflicts on your jaw. it’s not an unpleasant feeling, and the view of reo’s eyes rolled back makes it all worth it.

this time you don’t recoil from the hit, and start your trek up, then down, then up.

“focus on the tip, it’s sensitive there” he instructs, and you oblige, intensifying the bobbing motion near his ridge.

“circle your tongue around it” reo barely finishes his thought before you’re complying to his demands.

reo’s fingers are digging into chair’s arms, leaving crescent shaped imprints. he couldn’t tell what was more pleasurable: the feeling of your tongue against his tip, or how fucking obedient you were.

“such a good girl for me, learning so fast”

you hum in content at his praise, sending vibrations that nearly push reo to the edge. that’s enough he thinks, it’s time for the next lesson.

he sits up suddenly, and his cock leaves you with a ‘pop’. you try to object at the sudden emptiness, but he’s already pulling you up, guiding you to the bed.

“sit back for me, and keep your legs spread” he instructs, tying his purple strands back to keep away from the mess that will surely follow.

you do as he says, revealing the growing damp spot on the panties underneath your skirt. he dives in, wrapping his arms around your thighs to pull you forward abruptly until his face is hovered above your heat.

“r-reo-” your eyes widen at the sudden movement, but your voice morphs into a moan as he licks a long stripe above the cloth.

“let me show you what you deserve” he peels off the drenched panties off your legs, marveling at your glistening folds.

he makes haste, lunging forward to bury himself between your thighs. the sensation of the soft muscle of his tongue immediately makes you buck your hips forward.

“f-fuck!” you splutter out, mind blanking as he circles your clit. he had you wondering why on earth you waited so long. strands of purple leaked through your knuckles as you held his head in place.

a familiar coil builds, one that you’ve only felt through from your own efforts before.

“you’re close aren’t you?” he smirks briefly before diving in again to chase after your high.

stars dance across your half closed lids once he adds a finger into your entrance. it’s a stretch you’ve never felt before, but the feeling was more than welcome. then the addition of a second finger has your head falling back against the backboard.

“your virgin pussy’s so tight” he remarks, noticing how cramped the hole was with only two digits in. his vulgar words brought a blush to your face; who knew the mikage reo could talk so dirty?

the curling of his fingers is what brings you over the edge, until you’re thrashing against the sheets while reo uses his free arm to hold your hips down.

“how was that for your first orgasm?”

“so…so good” you manage through your pants. it left you breathless, but he wasn’t finished with you yet.

reo briefly gets up to roll a condom on while you recover. shit, it’s happening. you were about to kiss your virginity goodbye.

“i’m gonna go nice and slow okay?” he says, positioning himself above you. a light kiss is placed on your forehead before you feel the tip nudge at your entrance. and then he pushes.

your eyes squeeze shut at the intrusion, nails raking at reo’s back to offset the pain.

“deep breaths, it’s almost all the way in” he whispers, trying not to cum himself from the absolute bliss that your pussy gives him.

you both let out a sigh as he bottoms out, and he stills himself, waiting for confirmation to move.

“please reo” you whine, “make me feel good”

his eyes darken at your pleads, and a flash of possessiveness passes his mind. you were so fragile, and yet here you were begging him to ruin you.

he builds his pace gradually, knowing the stretch must still cause you discomfort. but by the third thrust, your loud moans were a clear indicator of the pleasure wracking your body.

“r-reo, feels amazing”

he responds to your praise with a firm grip on your waist, pulling you in deeper against him, “yeah? don’t you ever settle for anything less than this”

you almost yelp as he scoops one arm around your back to flip you. you’re on your knees now as he’s laid back against the mattress, still buried completely within you.

“want to learn how to ride?” he suggests, lip twitching upwards in a suggestive smile. the challenge was daunting, but a star student like you wouldn’t back down.

you place your palms against his taut chest, shakily raising yourself up before crashing back down.

“fuck, you’re a natural” he groans as you sink down again.

the new position has his tip kissing your cervix, and it’s not long before your thighs are giving out.

“looks like you need some help” he teases before his hands are supporting your hips, guiding you up and down his length. by the way your walls were fluttering, he could tell you were reaching another high. reo decides to add even more assistance by taking a free hand towards your clit, rubbing circles onto the sensitive bud.

your body goes slack at the sudden onset of pleasure, but reo has no problem making up for your efforts to ride, still thrusting upwards at impressive speeds.

“c-cumming again!” you exclaim again before clamping hard against his cock. your pulsating walls are enough for him to unload as well, thrusting erratically to maximize both your orgasms.

you collapse against his chest, limbs completely drained of energy. he laughs lightly at the state he left you in before wrapping his arms around your back and laying another kiss to the side of your temples.

“reo how am i supposed to fuck anyone else after this” you whine, “you set the bar too high”

“who said we were done? you still have much more to learn”

#holy shit i finally finished it #posting twice in one day crazy ik #reo #reo mikage #reo x reader #reo smut #reo mikage smut #blue lock #blue lock smut #bllk #bllk smut #blue lock imagines #reo mikage x reader #reo mikage imagines

1K notes · View notes

melonminnie · 1 year

Note

HI HI <3

I'M SORRY FOR REQUESTING ALOT BUT PLS TAKE UR TIME IN DOING ANY OF MY REQUESTS <3

SO CAN U PLS DO YANDERE AQUAMARINE X READER WHERE READER WAS HIS WIFE IN HIS PAST LIFE AND GOT KILLED BY AI STALKER BCS SHE WAS CLOSE TO AI WHEN SHE WAS A PATIENT OF AQUAMARINE , BUT WHEN SHE WOKE UP SHE FOUND HERSELF AS AN ACTORS DAUGHTER , SO SHE MET AQUA WHEN AI WAS ACTING IN A FILM BCS HER MOTHER WAS ACTING IN THE SAME FILM SO THEY KNEW EACH OTHER IMMEDIATELY , BUT BCS HE WENT THROUGH HER DEATH IN HIS PAST LIFE HE BECAME SO PROTECTIVE OF HER AND IT BECAME WORSE AFTER AI DEATH

THAT'S ALL, LOVE YA<3

Well go ahead - Yan! Aqua x fem reader

- I read the entire manga for this enjoy!! (Ps you don’t annoy me you make me rlly happy when I see my inbox <3)

“Sarina your legs are giving out you don’t need to practice this much” the woman sighed in disbelief staring at the 12 year old girl.

In return Sarina glared at y/n, “I can try though! I’m getting better promise!” She replied pumping one of her fists into the air.

Y/n gazed towards her trembling legs in worry, “You really should overwork yourself” she sighed once again in disbelief walking forward to hold the girl up right.

“B-but I didn’t even fall this time! I could go on for longer” she interjected, “Sarina your body clearly can’t handle this your legs are giving out!” She pointed walking her to her room.

“Sense I would’ve understood” she pouted, “How about I get you pudding would that make you feel better?” The woman tried lightening up the mood after placing the girl in her bed.

“Really! You’d do that for me?” She questioned beaming this time, “Of course just don’t move out of your room I’ll call goro to stay with you” The woman replied standing up before grabbing her phone to dial her husbands number.

“He should arrive soon okay? I’ll be back before you know it!” She winked with a smile before leaving the room.

“Y/n!” Goro came rushing in, “What’s this about me needing to look after the patient I was on my lunch-”

“I promised her I’d buy her pudding plus you’d do it for your wife right?” She smiled leaving.

After a few weeks the girl ended passing away due to her illness, it was expected.

but what wasn’t expected?, your husband Turing into a complete idol fan after her passing.

“Ahh ai is so cute right y/n~” he gushed staring at the small tv screen, “Mhm I guess so you have a patient coming in soon so act professional please” the woman begged her husband, he’d already screwed up a million times by watching said idol in their room.

Or he’d completely go overboard and talk about ai instead of what was wrong with the patient.

“Promise” he complied Turing off the tv, “Want anything from the convenience store?” She asked quickly, “Soda” he replied walking out of the room with her.

When y/n returned, The shock was written all across her face at the person infront of her, it was no other than hoshino Ai.

the 16 year old idol that her husband has taken a liking too ever sense sarina has died. As quickly as she was shocked she smiled at the idol.

“Hello!ma'am” she greeted closing the door behind her as she smiled, “Oh hello” she smiled waving her hand her star like eyes shining brightly.

After they were finished, your husband practically leaped out of his chair and went into a frantic panic, “Y/n you saw her right! That’s Ai right right?” He questioned as if he was out of his mind.

“Mhm that is now here’s your drink I’m going to go have my lunch break” she muttered leaving the room. “Hello!” The purple head greeted from the side, “Oh Ai is something wrong” y/n questioned the girl.

“No I was just wondering..” she fidgeted with her arms for a while, “I figured out your married to goro sense I correct?” She hesitated, “yes I am!” She answered.

“And sense the two of you are married and probably have a kid or two was your pregnancy difficult?” She questioned smiling.

For a minute or two there was silence, y/n for the first time in a while was speechless, “Ai.. I’m really sorry but I don’t have any kids” she replied awkwardly.

The idols face quickly turned red, “I’m sorry for assuming!!” She apologized, “It’s okay..” Y/n stared into space, “How long have you and sensei been married?” She questioned.

“2 years” she muttered, “Oooohhh” the 16 year old said.

After a day or two, Ai seemed to adapt to the atmosphere quickly often hanging around you or your husband.

“Goro! I’m going to store need anything?” Y/n hummed, “Soda” he mumbled loud enough for her to hear, “typical.” She thought walking off.

After 5 minutes or so she exited the store with a bag of food.

“Excuse me miss” Someone called out to her she turned her head towards the voice, meeting a young man who’s features weren’t seen.

“Yes?” She questioned in confusion, “do you know where the hospital is?” He questioned, “Ah yes it just around the corner” she pointed.

“I’m bad with directions..can you lead me there?” He questioned once more, for a minute the woman hesitated, it was night time there wasn’t anyone around only the two of them.

“S-sure” she replied a drop of sweat falling down her face, Y/n lead the mysterious man to the hospital.

“Here there it i-” The boy covered the woman’s mouth with cloth a dagger aligned with her chest, as he dragged her body to the forest.

“This is what you get for helping my Ai with giving birth” He aligned the dagger before piercing it into the girls heart, he repeatedly stabbed her over and over and over and over again.

he didn’t stop even when she was confirmed not to be breathing.

Then before she knew it she was staring at a set of the most attractive people she’d seen in her life.

“My daughter looks so cute~!” The woman cooed staring at the baby in her arms. “I don’t disagree” the man agreed looking at the baby with fondness in his eyes.

It didn’t take long for you to find out you were reincarnated, it took you a few weeks as your mind couldn’t concentrate and you’d fall asleep whenever you’d open your eyes. But you managed.

It didn’t take long for people to find out that your mother had given birth, For a short while people were out raged.but it soon stopped, your parents still being successful actors.

The woman smiled, her heels making a slightly loud noise as she walked to her child’s room.

“Y/n!” She smiled staring at you playing on the floor, “What are you doing?” She asked kneeling on the floor. “Coloring..” the girl muttered slightly nervous. Even though a few years had passed sense you’d been born.

there was still this slight fear that someone would find out your a 20 year old in a toddlers body.

“Y/n..I have to go somewhere for the rest of the day and the maids aren’t coming today..so will you be willing to come with me?” She asked, it wasn’t a surprise or her of how shy you were around everyone.

The woman’s eyes light up as she saw you nod at her request.

Soon you had arrived at the location. To say it was suffocating would be an understatement. There were people running back and forth from all directions.

focused on camera, lighting, acting etc. from the corner of your eye you spotted a familiar girl with purple hair and eyes that shined like stars.

she had two kids with her, twins..a boy and a girl. The boy had blonde hair his eyes blue shining brightly. The girl resembled her brother blonde hair but pink eyes.

from her expression she was clearly very excited for some reason. The actress caught her daughter staring at the two children. She smiled before opening her mouth.

“Wanna go talk to them?” She questioned, her eyes focused on her child’s expression. She hesitated before nodding her head.

(Couldn’t think of a name for the mom so)

—- held onto y/ns hand before walking over to the girl and her children, AI’s eyes light up as she saw the two of you walking over she walked over herself beckoning her children to follow her.

—- stared at her daughter before whispering something into her ear and leaving with the purple head to have a conversation.

The two siblings stared at y/n as if she was an alien. Ruby quickly spoke up stepping forward with a smile.

“hellooo, what’s your name? Your hairs really pretty” she pointed out shaking the girls hand aggressively.

Y/n answered quickly, Rubys aggressive hand shake turns into somewhat of a hug, “I’m ruby” she announced her eyes drifting to her brother before pointing at him.

“That’s my brother..his name is aquamarine..but you can call him aqua” she said her tone somehow lowering her excitement.

There was an awkward silence as you and ruby stared at the boy waiting for him to speak, “Anyway!, y/n isn’t my mama so cool!!” Ruby gushed.

The conversation soon faded as the girl ran towards her mom once she was able to.

"Your sister really likes your mom, huh?" Y/n tried to strike up a conversation with the blonde-haired boy.

"I guess so," he responded, staring at the girl. "Do you always look like this?" he questioned in a condescending way.

"What do you mean?" she asked, nervousness seeping in. "Do you always look like you're hiding something you don't want anyone to know about?" he questioned once more, making his question clear.

She didn't answer, only staring straight ahead. "Even if I'm hiding anything, it doesn't matter, does it?" she replied. "You remind me of someone I used to talk to," he confessed. "You do too," she responded.

"Ruby, Aqua," the teenager called out to her two children, her hand reaching for the glass.

"I love you," she cried. "Those words were definitely not lies," she said weakly, tears flooding her eyes.

And with that, Idol Hoshino Ai was declared dead, leaving her two children, whom the world didn't know about, behind.

"Aqua, Ruby!" The girl waved her hands in the air as she saw the twins entering through the school gate.

At the sound of her voice, Ruby could swear that her brother was walking faster now. "Don't attract attention," he said, dragging the girl with him.

Ruby moved her feet to catch up to her brother. "Hey Y/N! I recently got scouted to be an idol!" she spoke proudly.

"So that means you can become an actress like our promise, remember?" Ruby added. A few years ago, Ruby and Y/N had promised each other that if Ruby ever became an idol, she'd either become one too or become an actress.

"Yeah, I remember. Don't worry, I won't ever forget it...I have good memorization skills," she winked, waving goodbye as she entered her classroom with Aqua.

The boy didn't say much, aside from his face as he heard his sister speak about becoming an idol.

As Aqua had promised himself, that Ruby would never become an idol till he died, he'd made the promise that you'd never become one either.

This is so bad I’m sorry but it’s been sitting im my drafts for a huge while

#-Azuwritess #oshi no ko #oshi no ko x reader #aqua x reader #aquamarine hoshino #ruby hoshino #onk #aqua hoshino #ai hoshino #oshi no ko fanfic #aqua hoshino x reader

1K notes · View notes

asdfghjklmals · 6 months

Text

THE HONORED ONE✩༶‧˚

GENRE + T/W: sfw, angst. hurt and comfort. mentions of blood and injury. WORD COUNT: 4.1k words. TAGS: satoru gojo x fem!oc. high school lovers.

SYNOPSIS: oc gojo girlfriend thought that satoru gojo's infinity was impenetrable... oc gojo girlfriend tries her best to heal satoru after a grueling fight, but will her best be enough? AUTHOR'S NOTE: this fic follows 'fated to love you' click here to read. i cut toji and satoru's fight scenes pretty short beause i really don't do well writing fight scenes. would it really be a mals angst without ending on a somewhat good note? literally oc gojo girlfriend's au is me inputting her into the actual jjk manga where i can. 😂 REMINDER: if you want to imagine yourself in oc gojo girlfriend's character descriptions instead, please do!

tokyo jujutsu high school: oc gojo girlfriend's pov

“have you heard from idiot #1 and idiot #2?” shoko asked as you twiddled with your pencil. you were spending the afternoon studying with your bestfriend while satoru and suguru were on a mission.

you frowned, realizing that you actually haven't heard from satoru since he left. all he sent you was a good morning text saying that he made coffee for you in the dining hall before he left for his mission.

“no… yaga-sensei sent them off on a really important mission regarding the star plasma vessel for master tengen, but that’s all i know about it.”

“the last i heard from satoru was that they were going to okinawa to kill time. why don’t we try calling them?” shoko suggested.

you smiled back at her, "it’s okay, i’ll call satoru later. i try not to bug him while he’s on missions."

deep down, you really just wanted to know if he was okay. suguru had mentioned to you earlier this morning that satoru hadn’t slept yet. he had kept his infinity on ever since they left and it hasn’t been turned off. he was probably exhausted.

okinawa aquarium: satoru's pov

“are you going to get a souvenir for (y/n)? you know she loves aquariums.” suguru reminded satoru as they watched riko gaze at the large tank full of exotic fish.

“i already did. it was the first thing i did when i got here.” satoru smiled softly. it was the one thing he was actually looking forward to doing during this mission instead of babysitting a middle schooler.

“what did you get her?” suguru asked curiously.

satoru smiled cheekily, “i got her a small glass full of sand and seashells from the gift shop.”

suguru started to laugh at the mention of the bottle of sand, “you’re not going to put a love note in there again are you?”

“for the millionth time, it wasn’t a love note!” satoru defended himself. (read ‘souvenirs’ here)

"hey! bangs!" riko called out to suguru, "can we go to the reptile exhibit?!"

suguru closed his eyes and sighed heavily, "i wish she wouldn't call me that."

satoru patted suguru on the back and laughed. he was glad that suguru was here with him on this mission.

later that night: oc gojo girlfriend's pov

after a long day of studying, you laid in satoru’s bed. whenever he was gone for an overnight mission, you would sleep in his dorm room.

it totally wasn’t because you missed him immensely when he’s gone, but because you looked forward to how he would always greet you in the morning by plopping down on top of you and hugging you so tightly to the point you couldn't breathe. and not to mention, he never failed to pepper kisses on your forehead in the mornings. it was a very wholesome way to be woken up.

‘i wonder what he’s doing right now’, you thought to yourself. hesitating to press the call button on your flip phone. you laid there, flipping your phone shut, opening it back up, and flipping it shut again.

“i’ll just call him to say goodnight…” you mumbled, dialing satoru’s phone number. he answered immediately after the first ring.

“are you okay?” you heard him ask you. he sounded worried but tired, you could hear it in his voice.

“wow, not even a ‘hi sweetheart’ to your girlfriend? i should be asking you that mr. no-sleep-and-infinity-always-on.”

satoru sighed, “suguru told you, huh? he’s such a snitch.”

"he's not a snitch." you muttered, "he cares about you, just like i do. why don’t you get some sleep, babe?"

“i have to stay up to protect everyone, sweetheart.”

you bit back, “someone else can be on star plasma vessel protection duty while you sleep.”

satoru laughed at your statement, “who’s gonna protect me when i’m the strongest?”

“i will.” you said confidently, “—or suguru will. he promised me he would take care of you for me.”

“oh, my sweet little girlfriend is going to come all the way to okinawa to protect me?” he teased.

you grumbled, and rolled over onto your stomach. “you know i would if you wanted me to…”

satoru was quiet for a moment. you could hear his breathing through the receiver before he let out another loud sigh. “it’s late, sweetheart. you should get some sleep. we’ll be back tomorrow at 3pm.”

“promise me you’ll rest when you come home?”

“yes, i promise. maybe i’ll nap in your room.” satoru said.

you giggled because you knew he would end up sleeping in your room. that was a given after every mission. it was a hot shower first, then cuddles later. that was satoru's post mission routine.

“goodnight, satoru. i love you.”

“i love you too, (y/n).”

the next day: tokyo jujutsu high 3pm

you felt satoru’s presence enter the jujutsu high barrier. you sighed in relief. there was no way you couldn't detect his cursed energy because it was so strong, and his residuals felt like they were a part of you. you could sense that guy anywhere.

you called out to shoko, “shoko! i’m going to head out to the gates to see satoru and suguru.”

“okay, i’ll catch up with you guys later!” she waved as you left the classroom.

you walked slowly, appreciating the warm spring air and the smell of fresh cut grass. while you were on the way to the courtyard, you heard loud demolition sounds almost as if a building was being torn to pieces. heavy gusts of wind started to pick up, quickly.

you sensed a very familiar cursed energy, it was satoru’s cursed technique lapse: blue… but it was maximum output. you jumped up onto the roofs of the jujutsu high buildings, dashing towards the courtyard's front gates.

‘what the hell is happening? why is he using maximum output here?’, you thought as you sprinted and jumped from building to building. you had a horizontal view of the school, debris was floating in the air. as you were running, you saw suguru running the opposite way towards master tengen’s location. he was with two girls. ‘was that the star plasma vessel?’

“(y/n)!” suguru called out to you, “don’t get any closer to satoru! the opponent he’s facing is dangerous! he doesn’t have any cursed energy! he has a heavenly pact! you won’t be able to sense him!”

“—but i can help satoru!” you yelled back.

“trust me, satoru wouldn’t want you to get hurt. just stay hidden.”

you pursed your lips in hesitation. you wanted to help satoru, but you knew suguru wouldn’t have warned you if he didn’t think the situation was dangerous. and you would probably get in satoru’s way… you were always satoru’s achilles’ heel.

satoru gojo fought at his very best when he was alone. he could go all out and not have to worry about anyone getting caught in his techniques or in his domain expansion. any other sorcerer next to him would be a hindrance to him, even you.

“fine, i’ll stay hidden.” you called out to him, “—hurry and get to master tengen.”

you watched as suguru nodded back at you. he and the two girls started running again. you picked up the pace to get closer to where satoru was, until you saw a swarm of fly heads circling around the center of the courtyard. ‘where did those fly heads come from…?’

you stopped running. it was at that moment where your heart dropped. you couldn’t sense satoru’s cursed energy anymore.

you didn’t know whether or not the threat was still present or if satoru was masking his cursed energy using some sort of barrier technique.

there was no way something happened to him... right?

he was untouchable with infinity… right?

he was the strongest… right?

you jumped down onto the cobblestone pathway and hid behind one of the buildings several meters away. a man with dark hair in a black shirt, white pants, and a scar on his face started walking towards suguru's location.

you looked over to where the fly heads were. you quickly put your hands over your mouth to stop from screaming out satoru's name.

satoru’s body was sprawled on the concrete, blood and debris pooled around him. you summoned a protective barrier of water around satoru and sent a large pressured tidal wave towards all the fly heads, exorcising all of them at once.

“satoru!!!” you screamed, “—satoru, oh my god…”

you ran to his side, throwing ice shards at the remaining fly heads crawling all over his body. he had stab wounds on his head, his neck, multiple gashes on his right thigh, and a large slash through his chest all the way down to and through his abdomen.

a small ripple of cursed energy from his hand danced across his pool of blood. was that the last of satoru’s cursed energy? how could this happen to the untouchable satoru gojo? never in your life would you believe satoru could be defeated like this. there was just no way. he was the strongest.

"babe, please wake up!" you screamed as you shakily lifted his lifeless body onto your lap. you had to get it together if you wanted to heal him your with reversed cursed energy… and you had to do it fast. you focused all of your reversed cursed energy onto his largest wound, his chest. water left your hand to surround his wound, but it didn’t heal him at all. you wished your reversed cursed technique was more refined at this moment. you had been working so hard with shoko to master this healing technique of yours...

“damn it!” you screamed in frustration, tears streaming down your face. your vision was blurred by all the tears. you were so distraught that you couldn’t even focus. were you really so weak that you couldn’t even focus to heal the person you loved most?

you tried it again. water surrounded his wound, but stayed stagnant. you started to break down. catching your sobbing breaths, you hiccuped as you held satoru’s body in your arms. his blood drenched your uniform, but you didn’t care. you were about to lose the love of your life and you couldn't do anything about it. you cradled his head, moving his stray hairs out of his face. if this was the last time he would be in your arms, then so be it.

“please, just let me heal him…” you cried to yourself, begging to all the gods you could, with a small sliver of hope that you could maintain control of your cursed energy for even just a second to heal him.

as you held him, you noticed that satoru’s wounds were starting to slowly heal… but it wasn’t from your reversed cursed technique.

you closed your eyes, thanking all gods above for whatever it was that was healing him.

“satoru… please come back to me. you promised you wouldn’t leave me here alone… you promised to protect me.” you sobbed as you held him closer to you. your tears drenching his cheek.

“wow, (y/n) (l/n) crying over silly ol’ me?” a weak and quiet voice said in awe, “—i never thought i’d live to see the day.”

you wiped your tears with your sleeve. you couldn’t believe what you were seeing… or hearing. satoru gave you a meek smile.

“how are you even talking to me right now?” you scoffed as you continued to cry. “you are literally dead in my arms.”

satoru groaned, “reversed cursed technique, babe.”

“but i thought you didn’t know how to do that yet…”

you held him tighter. refusing to let go of him in fear that he’d disappear from your arms. this must be your imagination. you probably went insane after satoru died. and now you were starting to see and hear things.

as much as satoru would have loved to stay in your embrace forever, he sat up and pushed your arms away from him, “that’s another conversation for later. i have to take care of something.”

you snapped out of it and panicked when he tried to leave your side, “no! don’t go! i don't want to lose you again…” you clung onto his arm, shaking your head to wake you up from this nightmare. you knew he was going to go back and try to dispose of the man who did this to him. the man you saw earlier.

“you’re not going to lose me.” satoru reassured you. “—i’m the strongest, remember?”

tears streamed down your cheek as you sobbed. it was satoru’s turn to comfort you now. he held your frantically shaking body, using his thumb to brush away tears from your cheek.

“i’ll come back to you.” satoru said confidently, “(y/n), i promise that i’m going to be the strongest jujutsu sorcerer. i told you that i was going to protect you. i love you, you know that?”

you tried to catch your breath through your sobbing, “y-you pinky promise?”

“i pinky promise.” satoru said as he intertwined your pinkies before pressing a kiss on your quivering lips. “i have to go. can't have the man who made my baby cry roam free, can i now?”

he teleported off before he could hear you weakly say, “i love you, satoru…”

satoru gojo vs. toji fushiguro round 2

enlightenment. the action or state of attaining knowledge or insight.

satoru. a masculine japanese name meaning ‘to know’ or ‘to understand’. if you write satoru’s name in a different way, it could mean ‘to be spiritually awakened’.

and in that moment, on the verge of death, satoru gojo had finally understood the core of cursed energy.

he felt the positive cursed energy from his reversed cursed technique flow into limitless.

cursed technique reversal: red.

it was the first time that satoru had successfully unleashed red. and it was right into the man who spiritually awakened him, toji fushiguro.

“heh, what a monster.” toji muttered as he got up from the rubbish and debris around him after being hit by satoru's cursed technique.

‘sorry, amanai…’ satoru thought to himself, ‘i’m not angry about your death anymore, nor do i feel any resentment towards anyone. right now, everything just feels right.’

“throughout heaven and earth, i alone am the honored one.”

satoru swiftly dodged all of toji’s attempted attacks with the inverted spear of heaven as the sorcerer killer kept his strikes coming.

toji was from the zen'nin clan. growing up, he was taught about the gojo clan's techniques such as limitless, blue, and red. but the cursed technique that satoru was about to attempt for the first time, was only known to a select few people of the gojo clan. (read ‘meet the gojos’ here)

motion and reversal. positive and negative. born by combining both infinities of blue and red. a powerful, imaginary mass that rushes forward, obliterating all matter in it's path… one of the strongest techniques in the gojo clan.

hollow purple.

"so, any last words?" satoru asked the sorcerer killer as he bled from his torso. an entire chunk of his body and arm was gone from the hit from hollow purple.

"nope... in two or three years, my kid will be sold off to the zen'nin clan. do what you will with that information." toji told the white haired sorcerer as he fell to the ground.

inside the star plasma vessel association hideout

"you're late, suguru." satoru called out to his bestfriend without any emotion in his voice. his tone was flat. it was like he was lifeless, yet he was still alive.

"satoru?! what happened to you?" suguru asked, surprised to see satoru standing in front of him with riko’s dead body in his arms.

satoru ignored him, noticing that suguru was healed up. he sensed yours and shoko’s residuals. "looks like you saw (y/n) and shoko."

"yeah, they fixed me up." suguru started to say, he saw riko's hand fall from her deceased body. "actually... it doesn't matter if i'm fine. i—"

satoru interrupted him, "it's not your fault, suguru. i'm the one that messed up and let my guard down."

suguru took a moment to read the room before he waved towards satoru, "let's get out of here."

"suguru... do you... want to… kill them all...?" satoru asked his bestfriend coldly, referring to all the people applauding the death of the star plasma vessel, "—the me right now probably wouldn't even feel a thing if we killed them."

suguru knew that nothing good would happen if he were to kill all of these people who had different ideals than him and satoru. he shut his eyes and sighed, "forget it. it's pointless and pointless killing is futile. plus, what would (y/n) think of you?"

satoru stayed quiet for a moment before scoffing. "pointless, huh? does there need to be a reason to kill these people?"

"of course. it's important to have a reason. especially as jujutsu sorcerers. jujutsu sorcerers exists to protect non-jujutsu sorcerers."

suguru geto was and always will be satoru gojo's moral compass. adding onto his morality, an image of you appeared in satoru's newly enlightened mind.

'what would (y/n) think of me if she could see me right now?' satoru thought to himself. he had to be better than this, he knew he was better than this. you always saw the good in satoru, he couldn't disappoint you today, not now, not tomorrow, not ever.

"okay then, let's go home." satoru motioned. he paused after a thought, “actually, you head back with amanai first. there’s something i need to do.”

suguru took riko’s body from him as he watched satoru teleport off.

before returning to jujutsu high, satoru gojo went to dispose of the inverted spear of heaven. he didn't give a damn about the history of this tool and where it came from. there was no way a cursed tool that could nullify his cursed technique was going to stay on this earth. there was no way he was going to take his chances of dying again. and there was no way he was going to let that cursed tool exist given the possibility of losing you.

later that night

after a very long and hot shower, satoru laid in your bed, absentmindedly staring at the popcorn ceiling above. his fingers subconsciously rubbing soft circles into your lower back. it was a habit of his that he picked up ever since he started sleeping in your dorm room.

you couldn’t help but think about how you weren’t able to help satoru earlier today when he was bleeding out in your arms. were you really that weak and not in control of your own powers? you hated yourself for not being able to get your cursed energy under control. you couldn’t even save the one person you loved most in this god forsaken world. you couldn’t imagine your life without satoru and you almost lost him... and you couldn’t do a damn thing.

you felt satoru’s arm dive under your torso, pulling you closer to him. you closed your eyes and pursed your lips, afraid you might start crying in front of him. you didn’t have the heart to face him.

“what’s on your mind?” he asked, peppering soft kisses on your temple.

you scoffed in disbelief, “i should be asking you that. you’re the one that almost died. what happened to you, satoru? who that hell was that man?”

“i got caught slipping,” satoru sighed, “remember that tool that went missing when we went to visit your family?”

you remembered the uproar it caused when you went back with satoru to visit your clan. the inverted spear of heaven was stolen from your clan’s collection of cursed objects that day. that tool came from the last known water cursed technique user from your clan and the six eyes user from the gojo clan 400 years ago. (read ‘fated to love you’ here)

it hurt you to ask, “did that man use that tool on you…?”

“yeah. it broke through infinity.”

tears started to form in your eyes. guilt filling every ounce of your body. a cursed tool from your clan’s collection that the gojo clan entrusted to your clan ended up being the reason why satoru almost died.

“it’s funny, don’t you think?” satoru started to say, “a six eyes gojo ancestor gave that cursed tool to the love of their life, a (l/n) water cursed technique user to keep safe so that no one could ever use it against the gojo clan... and the tool almost killed me. my ancestor would be rolling in her grave right now.”

you wiped your tears with the sleeve of your pajama shirt, “it’s not funny, satoru. i don’t care what the legend has to say. i’m not losing you. not in this lifetime.”

satoru wished things could go back to normal... before this whole mess with the star plasma vessel, before the inverted spear of heaven was stolen. today was life changing for satoru, as he was sure it was for you too. he unlocked a side of him that he didn’t know existed. after tapping into the core of cursed energy, everything inside him changed. he felt a new high that he thought would never go away. would he be able to live his life freely with these new abilities?

“well, i’m still here kicking and breathing. someone has to be the strongest and live to protect the weak.” he said sarcastically, trying to lighten the mood. “—but really though, what’re you thinking about?”

“i’m thinking about how i almost lost the love of my life.” frowning at the nightmare you experienced today. "and this life for us was just getting started..."

you thought back to yours and satoru's visit to your clan's estate. the memory of you and him confirming your feelings for one another at the lily pad pagoda. you wanted to be with him in this lifetime, and all the lifetimes after that. satoru was end game for you.

he grinned, whispering in your ear, “damn, this guy named satoru gojo must be lucky to have a girlfriend like you.”

“satoruuu—” you whined, hitting his chest softly with your tiny fist, “i was so scared seeing you like that. and i couldn’t even get my shit together to heal you.” tears started to form on your dark eyelashes again, the guilt was still eating you up inside.

satoru cupped your cheek with his hand, wiping your tears away with his thumb just like he did earlier today. the palm of his hand on your cheek was a perfect fit. it was like he was made just for you, to hold and to love for the rest of your life.

“it’s okay, babe. you did everything you could.” he whispered.

“and it wasn’t enough, satoru! i couldn’t even protect you like i promised...” you cried as more tears streamed down your cheek. satoru's thumb wiping away the tears again.

“it's not your job to protect me.” satoru said sternly.

“then what is my job?”

“just to sit here and look pretty for me.” satoru joked as you glared at him through damp tears.

before you could interject with another whine, he hushed you by putting his index finger on your lips, “—your job, babe, is to love this guy named satoru gojo for the rest of your life.”

“now that… i think i can do.” you hiccuped, “—don’t ever scare me like that again, satoru gojo.”

there was a silence between the two of you after you said that. satoru knew he probably couldn’t promise you that something like this wouldn’t happen again, but he knew that he could promise you that he would do everything in his power to protect you for the rest of your lives. it was the very same promise he gave to you, your brother, and the both of your grandparents.

two eyes as blue as the ocean yearned for you to tell him the three words he’s been waiting to hear all day. he stared into your eyes as you gently stroked his cheek with your hand.

“i love you, satoru gojo. so much.” you leaned into him, kissing him with a little more need than usual. satoru tilted his head back, admiring the view of the beautiful you before he leaned back down press a kiss on your forehead.

“i love you too, (y/n). it’s an honor to be loved by you...”

DIVIDERS PROVIDED BY @/ANLIAN-AISHANG

607 notes · View notes

yumeka-sxf · 9 days

Text

I try to stay away from negative topics, but after hearing talk on social media yesterday and seeing this post from @such-a-downer, I just had to give my two cents about the complaints regarding yesterday's chapter being "another short mission" and that Endo is somehow being "lazy" or whatever.

I honestly don't understand this mentality of criticizing manga-ka, or any artists really, because they aren't delivering by whatever standards you personally think are appropriate. To me, it just seems like entitlement because Endo has no obligation to cater to any specific fan's wants. This is his story to tell the way he wants, and his characters to develop at the pace he deems fit. This isn't a business contract where we're paying him to deliver content we want every two weeks without fail. If I'm consuming the fruits of someone's creative labor for free, I certainly feel no right to complain if sometimes their content isn't what I wanted or expected. I'm fine with that because 1) I know it's what they (the creator) wanted/needed at the time, and 2) even if a particular chapter wasn't my cup of tea, I know other fellow fans out there somewhere are enjoying the heck out of it, and that's cool!

We also have to remember that SxF is basically a one-man show. If Endo is busy or sick or whatever, it's not like he can have someone fill in for him to write and draw the series. That's what a hiatus is for, that's what making a short chapter instead of a longer one is for...that's how artists should be treated so they don't get burned out and stressed. Plus, art shouldn't be rushed. Any artist knows that there are times when you have trouble coming up with ideas and maybe need a little extra time to develop a more complex section of the story. To immediately jump to conclusions that he's lazy or doesn't know what he's doing is ridiculous. Maybe he didn't feel good for a few days, maybe he's been busy with other SxF events, maybe he just needed more time to get a particular future arc developed, or maybe he just has basic IRL obligations to take care of like we all do...you don't know what's going on in his life, so don't make assumptions.

Another thing to keep in mind is that it's literally impossible to please every fan. One of the comments I read for example, someone was ready to drop the series because we haven't seen much of Yor in "a while." All I could think of was "didn't she just have a pretty big role only four chapters ago when they went to the ski resort?" Plus she was the star of chapter 91, which was less than ten chapters ago. So according to this person's standards, four chapters without seeing a particular character is "too long"? What if it was only three chapters, would that be acceptable? It's not right to push our own personal standards of a series' pacing as the "correct" way: some people want to see more of character X while someone else wants to see more of subplot Y, so should both complain that the manga-ka isn't doing right whenever they focus on something else? I'm not saying you shouldn't make criticisms of a manga-ka's work, but the criticisms should come from within the narrative itself, not superficial things like chapters focusing on subplots/characters you don't want to see or not having enough "plot-advancing" content when it's not a plot-focused series.

People who have read SxF up to this point should know the general flow of the chapters: mostly slice-of-life episodic, with more plot-heavy, intense arcs once in a while, like the cruise arc and bus arc. It's an ensemble series that spends most of its chapters focused on at least one of the Forgers, but occasionally other characters here and there. That's how the series has been for years and will likely continue to be. So if you keep complaining because you only like the dramatic story arcs and not the "nothing happens" episodic chapters, then maybe the series just isn't for you. It's totally fine if that's the case, but don't act like Endo is doing something wrong because he's not providing the particular thing you want in his story.

To summarize, Endo has no obligation to cater to particular fans' standards, just as we have no obligation to keep reading his work if we don't like it. But being a fan to me means respecting the creator's pace and vision even if it's not always what I personally want. I can find something to enjoy in every chapter because I'm a fan of SxF, not a fan of one particular aspect of it. But I also will not complain every time my tastes aren't being catered to and will simply occupy myself with other things while I wait. What's the big hurry, after all? I'm in no rush for SxF to wrap up its plot and I'm glad Endo isn't rushing either.

And that's all I'm gonna say about this topic, lol. On a happier note, I'm going to finally see Code White on Thursday! 😁 More to come later~

#spy x family #sxf #spy family #spyxfamily #sxf manga #sxf manga spoilers #sxf spoilers

181 notes · View notes

suyacho · 3 months

Text

midnight love ft. kakucho

when a knock on your door at midnight leads to you taking care of your ex

content warnings: minors/ageless blogs dni - gn!reader - ex!bf kakucho - blood & wounds mentions, reader patches kakucho up (i’m no pro) - soft to sexual tension ig - cursing - fight mentions - 1,7k words

i thought a had a writer’s block and then this happened, plus it was supposed to focused more on the sexual tension but i just wanna post this LMAOO

Quiet nights with the sound of rain pouring while you caught up with your favorite manga was all you ever needed to be at peace. Yet something was missing, someone was missing and the fact that you were reading romance didn’t help the lonely feeling.

Months had passed since you and Kakucho broke things off, still he lingered on your mind. How could you ever forget him when he meant so much to you? The dates, the late nights, the sex, the cooking together, the chaotic days and most importantly, the way he loved.

Why did you two let some silly arguments and stressful moments ruin the beautiful thing you once had?

A sigh left your lips as you closed your manga, tears welling up in your eyes as you got up. “I should sleep.” you mumbled to yourself at checking the time, how was it 01:32 already?

You made your way into your once shared bedroom, freezing in your steps once you heard a knock on the door when you were about to flick the lights on. Nervously swallowing a breath you didn’t know you were holding.

It’s okay, I’ll just pretend I’m asleep, you thought to yourself, goosebumps running up your spine. Who in his right mind would be knocking at your door at this time?

Once again one more knock was heard and you swallowed yet another breath, grabbing scissors from your desk and clutching onto your phone. Slowly making your way over to the door, making sure to not make a single sound.

“Please be home.” A voice mumbled quietly from the other side, too quiet for you to identify who it was. Your hands were shaking as you looked through the peephole, dropping both the scissors and your phone once you noticed who the person knocking was.

What the actual fuck? Talk about coincidence.

You watched as the person was about to knock once more, speaking up before he could. “What do you want, Kakucho?” you sighed, the man you had been thinking about, drenched and covered in blood, standing in front of your door.

Relief almost immediately washed over Kakucho as he heard your voice, letting his hand fall down, his other hand putting pressure onto presumably a wound. “I’m so sorry, I know this is asking too much but could you please let me in?”

Hesitantly you opened the door, moving aside so he could make his way in. He sounded desperate so he must’ve had a proper reason to come here.

“Why are you here?” you questioned bluntly, crossing your arms as you looked at him, noticing how exhausted he looked.

“I got fucked up in a fight nearby and this was the closest place that I could think of.” Kakucho answers, letting out the small fact that it was because this was the one place that felt like home, something he already lost once before. Your once shared apartment was also the one place where he felt safe.

“Go to the bathroom and wait for me.” you sighed, not daring to look him in the eyes as you went and grabbed the emergency kit, something that you purchased pretty quickly into you guys dating.

“They really fucked you up.” you chuckled, grabbing everything you need, having learned how to treat proper wounds, even going as far as knowing how to do basic stitches. “Thanks for pointing out the obvious.” he laughed, ending quickly as he winced in pain.

The way he winced made you worry considering he wasn’t in pain easily. “Go rinse off and call me when you’re done.” you told him after turning the shower on, making your way out of the bathroom, only to be stopped by him.

“Hey, thank you.” he smiled, sincerity lingered in his tone and you just nodded, pulling your hand away, ignoring the burning feeling the touch made you feel, tension rising in the air, oh how you had missed his touch.

Just what was going on? Who in their right mind would let their ex come in but then again, were you supposed to leave him like that? A deep sigh left your lips as you massage your temples, your feelings being all over the place.

Without overthinking it more, you walked over into the guestroom aka the place you stored all his stuff he left at yours. You grabbed a clean set of clothes and a towel before walking towards the bathroom again.

“I’m coming in.” you warned him after knocking, making your way into the bathroom, your eyes falling on the necklace and ring, one you got for him and the other was something you two bought matching. Why was he still wearing those?

“Thank you, l-” Kakucho stopped himself before he let the nickname slip, glancing over at you with those loving eyes, a smile plastered on his face. One you didn’t notice because you didn’t dare to look up.

You didn’t say anything as you put the clothes down, fighting back the urge to check him out. It wasn’t something you hadn’t seen before, it was a view alright, but you couldn’t do it. Not when you were in this situation, no matter how you missed seeing him like that because you knew your thoughts would only go further, thinking about his body and the times you spent together in the shower.

Just as you were about to walk out, you were once again stopped by a hand, this one a wet and warm one, making your heart skip a bit. “I’m done.” Kakucho taunted, a playful tone lingered in his tone and you could swear you felt him smirking.

“Then get dried up.” you mumbled, throwing the towel at him, the room growing warmer and the air getting thicker with each passing second. You shouldn't feel like this, not with your ex. He's an ex for a reason.

“Alright, sorry– I’m done.” Kakucho told you, sitting on the counter with just a towel wrapped around him. “This might sting.” you mumbled, putting the rubbing alcohol on a cotton pad and turning around, being taken aback in from the view. He was so fine, he always had been.

You swallowed a breath as you moved closer to him, starting with disinfecting the wounds on his hands. Carefully cleaning it up as you held his big hand, the big hand that used to fit perfectly in yours, the one that always touched you all over and knew all the right spots. “I think that should be good now, right?” Kakucho asked as you tapped the cotton pad on a clean spot, chuckling lightly.

“Oh– sorry.” you mumbled, putting it aside as you grabbed a bandage, wrapping it around his hand gently. Kakucho watched you with every move, how gentle you were with him like he was the most fragile thing ever, the sweet touches with care, the ones that only made him fall for you deeper.

A silence fell as you did the same to his arms, it was a perfect balance between peaceful and awkward and his eyes were still glued on you. However, something was much more different compared to the moment he stepped into your apartment, both in the tension and in you two as individuals, it was like you were unintentionally yearning for each other.

“Hey…” Kakucho started, making you pause in your movements and look him in the eyes for the first time tonight, making you realize how close you actually were to one another as your heart skipped a beat.

“Yes..?” Hesitation was vibrant in your voice as you caught yourself staring at his lips and then back at his eyes, missing the way he would kiss you or place kisses all over your body.

Kakucho didn’t say anything yet he moved closer to you, your lips being centimeters away to the point where you could feel his breath ghosting over yours.

The rational part in you was screaming at you, telling you to pull back and just focus on patching up. The other part was somehow yearning for his touch, like your body was moving on its own.

You shook your head, taking a few steps back as you gave him a bittersweet smile. “We shouldn’t do this, Kakucho.”

Kakucho, no longer Kaku or love, something he’d wished was different.

“Yeah, you’re right, sorry.” he apologized and you shrugged it off, cleaning up the supplies hurriedly. “Are you not fixing this one?” Kakucho asked awkwardly, moving back a bit so you could see it better.

It was the worst wound yet somehow you wanted it to be over. The way the towel was wrapped around his hips, just enough to hide it but still show his v-line and happy trail, it was almost like he did it on purpose.

“This might sting a little.” you warned him again, disinfecting the wound on his lower abdomen, Kakucho groaning slightly at the feeling, trying to keep his mind from wandering further as you touched him close to where he wanted you to.

Kakucho was way too quiet compared to earlier but you didn’t say anything as you wrapped the bandage around it. Your hand ghosted right over the towel and you could swear you felt him tense up.

“All done.” you smiled proudly, fixing up the last thing and looking him in the eyes once again, knowing those dark eyes better than anyone.

“Are you sure..? Don’t you need to check a little further down.” Kakucho questioned, having you closer to him with one swift move as you let out a shaky breath.

“Kaku..” you mumbled, praying he didn’t hear your heart beating like crazy or notice the way you’ve been rubbing your legs together the past few minutes.

Although Kakucho knew you better than anyone and noticed it before you even realized. “Sorry, you can curse me all you want later.” he apologized, his hands now being on your sides.

This wasn’t like him but it had been too long, too long since he last was with you. On top of that, he had so much pent up sexual frustration considering Kakucho didn’t sleep with anyone else, even if months had passed, his heart belonged to you, the one he let get away.

“Please…” you mumbled, moving his hand down while one of yours was placed on his chest. You didn’t say more, your body language told him all he needed to know and frankly, he didn’t know how much longer he could hold back.

Maybe he should thank those guys for beating him up.

#kakucho x reader #kakucho #tokyo revengers kakucho #tokyo rev x reader #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers #snow writes; fluff

214 notes · View notes

bishoptheboy · 9 months

Text

NARUTO Shinobi days: Coming home to a surprise guest (?) Part 6

(Mini Comic: ⚠️ 4 parts *a little long scroll*)

"It does get to me..."

Sasuke never got to drink his water in the end.

<I am currently re-reading Naruto and I just love Sasuke's inner thoughts about Naruto. It is always profound and deep. I immediately got struck with inspiration, and I thought it is best to deliver it through a little comic. Planning it was the tough one, it ain't easy at all (kudos to all comic artists out there), and I ain't no writer so I had to discuss with my brother on certain things.

It end up kinda long (?) But I hope it turned out at least decent! And also, at the end of the manga when Sasuke cries, that could've been the perfect time to kiss him (but well they can't even move lol). AND ALSO, I just want to draw them cuddling. So, this is just indulging myself..

(also...hopefully people will notice the line "it does get to me" is a ref from something 👀)

Thank you for reading! 🙇

Edit: please ignore the left arm manifestation bec I am an idiot>

410 notes · View notes

anikaluv · 9 months

Text

BAN KOSA !!!

I wanted to bring peoples attention to this since NO ONE has been talking about it.

In just 4 days, Congress will vote on a crucial bill known as KOSA, which poses a serious threat to the anime and manga community in the United States. Alongside the EARN IT act, this legislation has the potential to result in a complete ban on anime, manga, fanfics, and any mature content due to the vague classification of "gore and violence."

While the bill is being presented as a measure to protect minors, it is essential to understand that its implications go far beyond that. In reality, KOSA could lead to a blanket ban for all individuals, regardless of age. The bill claims to offer a way for adults to access content by confirming their age, but upon closer examination, it becomes evident that adult viewers will be at risk of having the content flagged and taken down.

This is an alarming development that requires immediate attention and action from the anime community. We cannot allow this bill to pass unnoticed, as it will undoubtedly have severe consequences for the freedom of expression and creativity within our community.

To make a difference, we urge you to take action and voice your opposition to KOSA. You can start by visiting the link provided: https://www.badinternetbills.com/. This website allows you to email your state representatives directly. Moreover, if you provide your phone number, you will receive a call that will conveniently connect you to all your representatives' offices. They will provide you with a script to read from, making it easy for you to express your concerns effectively.

It is crucial that we all unite and stand up against this threat. Last year, we narrowly escaped the passage of this bill, but it seems that Congress is making another attempt this year. By speaking up and making our voices heard, we can ensure that our rights to enjoy anime, manga, and creative works are protected.

PLEASE VOTE ON IT, it will take two seconds and it'll help. Thank you ya'll <3

If you can't vote, likes, reblogs, shares, ALL ARE APPRECIATED

@kxixstars @breeandhermunches @hearts4hobie @spidrstar @eliiilamar @blkshoyo @q2ie @dolliied @axeoverblade @zalayni @spiderheartzz @sheluvv-jen @milesmolasses @moodysunflowerbaby @crxss01

#fanfic #ban kosa #stop kosa

412 notes · View notes

Last Seen Blogs

stilesedit

Stiles Edits

vega-tyan

@vega_tyan

kingsdaleemporio

The Kings Closet...

appsapk2-blog

AppsApk

unearthlydust

I've been slain by Sebastian Stan